Flashing a broad grin at the fantastic find, I eagerly took hold of the cabinet’s small glass handle and swung the glass panel wide open. Inside sat a veritable treasure trove of alchemic potions, all resting unassumingly as if they were the most common place of objects. This would soon prove to be quite far from the truth. Though we did not yet know their individual properties, the majority of the bottles were half again as big as most others we had previously encountered meaning they would be a few steps above what we had seen thus far. Each bottle was teardrop-shaped with a flat bottom and sealed with a dark cork of some unknown wood. The more extravagant potions, those resting below the top three rows, varied wildly in shape and size. There was everything from double helix twisting vials to hourglasses, and one even shaped like a blooming black lotus. Everything was capped with hand-dipped, vibrant red wax, giving the lot a prestigious and elegant appearance.
“These are incredibly valuable, even the health, mana, and stamina potions,” Stella commented, a bit of awe leaking into her voice. “Cicero has to have some mad skills to create these.”
Thanking my luck attribute, this find was well-timed as we were actually quite low on our potion stockpile. After the dwarven ambush on Mammoth and seeing the town in desperate need of healing, we offered the guards almost our entire supply to greatly aid in the recovery of those most gravely injured during the fighting. Smiling, I crouched low before picking up and inspecting the red, blue, and green potions.
{Greater Healing Potion}. Quality: Well-crafted. Rarity: Rare. Type: Potion. Properties: Restores 25% Health upon consumption, up to the user’s current maximum.
{Greater Mana Potion}. Quality: Well-crafted. Rarity: Rare. Type: Potion. Properties: Restores 25% Mana upon consumption, up to the user’s current maximum.
{Greater Stamina Potion}. Quality: Well-crafted. Rarity: Rare. Type: Potion. Properties: Restores 25% Stamina upon consumption, up to the user’s current maximum.
“Now, these are some proper potions,” I crooned over the fantastic concoctions. One of the limiting factors with the older potions we earned through a river of sweat, blood, and tears was that everything before today restored a set amount. They were far less beneficial when compared to a single potion restoring a flat percentage. Heck, these would get even better as we grew stronger!
If I recalled correctly, a regular healing potion restored a measly fifty health points, which was a drop in the bucket against my current health pool of over four thousand hit points. The acquisition of the many vials in front of us would essentially obliviate that bottleneck with the twenty-five percent restored from a single potion. This meant they would be good today, tomorrow, and far into the future. Thankfully, there was quite a supply to be had.
Congratulations! You have received: {Greater Healing Potion} x 24, {Greater Mana Potion} x 24, {Greater Stamina Potion} x 24.
In short order all of the top row of potions were safely stored within my inventory. The massive grin on my face didn’t seem to want to diminish as worked. Before examining the shelves of more interesting potions, I walked over to where Tallos stood, waiting patiently. Withdrawing one potion at a time, the ranger swiftly had four of each type tucked away. Even though this newest set was slightly larger than those we found before coming to this spire, each could be swallowed rather quickly if you upended the bottle into your mouth.
“Are you sure I should have these?” Tallos asked, his words at first catching me off guard as he looked the precious liquid. Receiving only a questioning look back from me, he elaborated, “You said each of these restores a quarter of health, mana, or stamina. Are you sure I need these improved versions? I’d be more than happy to keep using the ones already stored away in my necklace. These bigger ones probably give you more than me since you’re a Hunter and all.
I had, of course, contemplated the same notion before definitively deciding to share with the warden anyway. Sure, each potion would grant me vastly more health or mana comparatively if I consumed them, but Tallos was a dear friend and certainly worth it. Even if this potion cupboard held half as many, I would have handed him a complete set all the same. Keeping him healthy was worth more to me than any item.
“You’re friendship is worth far more than any these potions combined,” I smiled genuinely at my ally. “We’ve been through more life-or-death struggles together than I care to admit and your safety, your life, is just as precious as my own. You’re my friend and these potions are an easy cost to bear with you by our side.”
I could see my words had the desired effect on the stoic ranger. Tallos didn’t say anything verbally in response, but his heartfelt smile told me everything I needed to know.
“Alright,” I said eagerly as I rubbed my hands together. “Let’s see what these other ones can do.”
A frown creased my features. Unfortunately, the next set of System prompts was far less helpful and, sadly, unexpected. Swiftly inspected one potion after the other, the same message flashed across my screen, to my dismay.
Notice! You currently lack the knowledge and/or proficiency to discern the properties of this item.
“Any help, Stell?” I asked hopefully. However, if my inspection couldn’t find any useful information, I feared my canine friend wouldn't be able to either.
Proving my suspicion was true, Stella barely hesitated before explaining nothing else was to be had from her Accelerator menus. “Sorry, no. I’m sure we’ll eventually come across someone who could.” She paused before lifting a shoulder, “You could, you know, drink one to find out what it does.”
“And potentially waste something amazing? Nope. No, thank you, Stell,” I chortled playfully. “Beyond the potions we’ve already put away, all these are unique. I don’t think it would be a good idea to test them, at least just yet. Plus, what if one is a deadly poison or acid? I wouldn’t fancy downing that. It’s just too risky.”
While my earlier energetic mood was lessened somewhat, the find of so many high level potions was nevertheless impressive and potentially life-saving. We would eventually figure out what each of them did. Of that, I had no doubt. Knowing there was nothing else to do about it, we moved each of the extravagant-looking potions into my bag of holding. The vials were more spread out on the bottom rows, especially compared to the side-by-side recovery potions, but it was still a good haul nonetheless.
Congratulations! You have received: Unknown Potions x 30.
“That reminds me of something I’ve been meaning to ask you, Stell,” I stated after the task was complete. Closing the cabinet, I turned to Stella sitting on a nearby table closely inspecting a bubbling beaker filled with a blueish-green liquid. The System notification informing me I lacked the required knowledge and proficiency to ascertain the potion’s properties sparked a thought I had been pushing aside for some time now. With how busy things have been, seemingly moving from conflict to conflict, the idea seemed inconsequential, so I kept putting it off. Who had time to sit down and learn a profession, after all? We certainly didn’t, at least for any time in the foreseeable future.
“There are professions in the Game, right? We’ve seen blacksmiths and leather workers, and clearly, Cicero is a talented alchemist. Is this something I can learn too? Not necessarily alchemy, mind you, though such a skill could prove useful with all the new alchemy tools we’ve just acquired, but maybe something like enchanting an example?”
In my previous life, I was a huge gamer and dabbled in nearly every MMO out there. While I didn’t take up a crafting profession in all of them, in some of the bigger games, I had become quite the high-level bone crafter, leather worker, blacksmith, and even a goldsmith at one point. Depending on the particular online game, it could take weeks, months, or even years to raise your skill to a high enough degree, and it could have a serious impact on your gameplay. Being able to afford the best gear certainly went a long way in increasing my ability to survive in the dangerous dungeons and raids I participated in. If the restoration potions we stole from Cicero had anything to say on the matter, professions in this game world could be life-altering. If I could dedicate the time, one day, I would certainly dabble in more than a few.
“There are, but without someone teaching you the fundamentals to get you started, it can be very tedious before the System grants you the appropriate skill. You had to make something noteworthy and not hobbled together. If you can find the right person, who is willing to teach you their trade, a few hours with master would be far better than spending weeks trying to figure it out yourself,” Stella replied thoughtfully. She had been tapping on the glass beaker but, seeing no reaction turned to me fully. “Learning something basic, though, like a gathering profession, is much easier on your own. Something like enchanting, as you mentioned, you’ll need some serious, and likely expensive, help to bridge the gap to reach even skill level one.”
She tapped her temple thoughtfully before continuing. “There is a chance you could get really lucky with a skill offering, though that’s barely a remote possibility at the best of times. I doubt we have the time or ability to locate a high-level individual to seriously consider picking up a profession at this point. We probably could after we’ve taken down Duke once and for all, or better yet, after we ascend to a higher world. Then, I’d say we’d have plenty of time to lock something down.”
I couldn’t argue with her reasoning. We had far more pressing matters right now than trying to hunt down a skilled professional willing to teach me their trade. While I could probably find one in Quarris or the human capital city of Allerton, it seemed a distant project. Not only that, it likely would take a long time, years perhaps, to master the trade. I would get there one day, indeed. It just wasn’t today.
Double-checking that no other cabinets were hiding anywhere out of sight within the cramped room, we grouped up next to the door Ripley had been guarding before dropping back into stealth. The next room up, the sixth we had found so far, was undoubtedly a summoning chamber. From inside the room, the walls were uncharacteristically opaque to such a degree not a lick of the darkening outside light was able to pass through. The chamber had barely any light beyond the four flickering glowing crystals hanging far overhead. The vaulted room’s floor was also unlike anything we had seen thus far, seeing how it was solid stone instead of the typical incandescent emerald. The stone was such a dark green as to be nearly black. In the center of the round hall was a ritual circle of intricately glowing runes etched into the dark stone about fifteen feet in diameter. Each arcane symbol was about a foot tall and appeared to shift slightly whenever not being looked at directly. The effect was to give the place a foreboding feeling as if the circle itself was watching us. Considering the runic script was blood red, it wasn’t a comforting sensation.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Beyond an untraceable acrid scent lingering in the somewhat stale air, nothing significant was found after a brief inspection. Not so much as an altar, cupboard, or chest was secreted away. I had hoped to find something but was left unsatisfied. Whatever Cicero did here was either completely contained within his magic, or he brought his summoning ingredients with him when he worked. Chalking the room up as a bust when it came to loot, we ascended higher into the spire always on guard for something to pop out. By this time, night had nearly fallen stealing most of the light from the outside world. The once sparkling rainbows filling the stairways disappeared and were replaced by the growing darkness. Our collective Darkvision was more than up to the task of lighting our path however, making it easy to make our way higher as we stealthily approached the next highest room.
Hearing no signs of life within, which seemed the norm at this point, we carefully crept inside with the emerald door not making the slightest sound to give away our entrance. Stepping past the crystalline threshold I was stunned as those emerald walls vanished as if they phased out of existence. It was as if the spire's pinnacle was nothing more than a flat forty-foot wide platform, allowing an easy view of the surrounding countryside. While most of it was an uninteresting desert, at our height of several hundred feet in the air, I swear I could just make out the tops of the trees from the High Thicket in the distant horizon. Stepping close to where a curving emerald wall should be, I reached out a hand and found an unmovable crystal pressing back against me. The walls hadn’t disappeared. They were clearly still there. We just couldn’t see them from the inside.
Panning my gaze, I easily spotted the emerald door off to my left. It was completely visible and appeared to be hanging in the air, as were the stairs and spire’s outer boundary wall and single stained glass visible from this angle. However, the stairs leading higher and lower disappeared as if they didn’t exist. The staircase was there, of course, but was simply hidden beyond whatever magical and wonderful properties contained within these strange transparent walls.
Leery of stepping further into the wide-open room, I continued my visual inspection of the place near the doorway. Thankfully, the invisible room was absent the gusting wind my mind promised should be there if the room didn’t have walls. In the exact center of the room stood a waist-high silver basin. Even a dozen feet away, we could see it was filled to the brim with an unusual metallic liquid that seemed to reflect light as if it were a mirror. Hanging randomly throughout the room, attached to walls we couldn’t see, were actual mirrors. Dozens of them, in fact, and all different shapes and sizes from body-length mirrors to others a scant six inches in diameter. Some were framed in gold, others in wood or silver, and others in strange murky crystal. At the far end of the platform stood a series of marble altars arranged in a semi-circle. Atop each rested innocuous-looking crystal balls with small multicolor flames dancing within.
Finally deeming it safe enough to enter, I took a deliberately careful step inside and soon reached the middle basin and its odd liquid. “It’s a scrying room,” I murmured after careful consideration. Seeing a confused look flash across Tallos' face as I traced a finger around the basin's rim, I elaborated on what I believed the room functioned as. “I’m pretty sure these tools allow Cicero to gather information and hidden truths via magical means. This liquid metal basin, these many mirrors, everything acts as a medium to see distant things magically. I wouldn’t be surprised if the damnable orc could use these to spy all the way to the High Thicket or beyond. Perhaps he even has a means for distant communications with someone with similar equipment.”
The ranger nodded his understanding after thanking me for elaborating. “Should we trash the place?” he asked after a short while. His body language made him appear just as uncomfortable as I felt with standing in such an exposed location even if there was no chance of falling over the side. “I don’t think there’s anything of value to us here, but I don’t fancy Cicero potentially spying on us if we are forced to flee his watchtower.”
My fear of heights fading to a distant memory, I walked near one of the far crystal balls and tried to lift it off its pedestal. Unfortunately, the sphere was rooted in place as if the pair were welded together. Withdrawing Frostrend from my inventory, I discovered I couldn’t so much as mar its pristine and glassy surface. It was certainly an impressive feat given the power properties of my axe, though maybe something like a pick axe would do better than an edged blade. The mirrors, too, were stuck fast to the transparent wall, though with the first one I tried, it could be shattered easily enough. With a single swing, the sound of shattering glass filled the enclosed room. Broken glass crunched under my feet as I hefted my axe, ready for another volley.
“What do you think, Stell?” I asked our knowledgeable guide. “Should we trash the lot of them?”
“Sure, why not?” she responded absently as she floated above the center basin. It was as if she was peering inside to uncover a hidden nugget of information buried beneath the rippling liquid. “Those crystal balls, though, I have no idea how to break those so that I wouldn’t bother. And I’m pretty sure this scrying pool is also beyond our means, but I would suggest we take some of the silvery liquid with us. Let’s not tarry too much longer, though.”
Before leaving, I did take a minute to fill a few of the empty potion bottles sitting uselessly in my inventory. The metallic substance was icy cold to the touch, and even after filling a half dozen bottles, the water level remained unchanged. It still appeared to run over the edge at the slightest touch, though not a drop had touched the floor while I worked. Hoping the substance could someday serve a function, perhaps it would sell well, I remained disgruntled at the System. Failing utterly, not a drop of information could be ascertained about the interesting concoction even after repeated attempts to identify the stuff. The silvery liquid reminded me of mercury, though Stella was swift to assure me it wasn’t dangerous and couldn’t be absorbed through my skin when I panicked at the sudden recollection while I worked.
Continuing our methodical grind up the tower, the eighth room turned out to be a luxurious dining area complete with a compact kitchen wedged inside a small crystalline room. In the center of the room sat a grand, intricately designed round table with twelve regal chairs and plush velvet cushions. Both the table and many chairs were made of rich, beautiful, dark mahogany. Fine china, emerald glass, and flatware were laid across a plum-colored silken tablecloth. The lavish atmosphere combined in a way that seemed fit to impress a king and his entourage of wealthy nobles.
Within the snug kitchen sat a distinctive crystalline hearth tucked against the outer wall. Within its oddly brick-like depths flickered an iridescent flame burning a variety of vibrant colors. The nearby countertop was polished marble and contained everything any professional chef could ever need. A waist-high pantry off to the side was overflowing with dried herbs, spices, vegetables, and grains. Well-preserved meats sitting atop fancy serving platters, along with an odd assortment of aromatic cheeses ranging in size from a block to a large wheel. The very bottom row contained a dozen bottles of what might have been honey mead. In all, it was truly amazing how efficiently everything was stored, given the limited space. I’m not ashamed to admit that everything, the food, alcohol, dishware, everything found its way into my bag of holding. Why let good food and expensive cutlery go to waste, right?
Approaching the door leading to the next room, I couldn’t help but wonder why we had, thus far, not seen a hint of any of Cicero’s twisted creations. Nearly the entire time we spent getting here, I would have sworn the place would have been swarming with deadly and dangerous abominations. Other than the archive guardians, which was the furthest thing from an unholy union of two sentient beings, nothing remotely dangerous had shown itself. Knowing our luck would eventually turn for the worse, I refocused myself to avoid falling into complacency. The emerald door, like all the others, stood in our way, blocking out the mystery of whatever lay inside. Taking a moment to listen for any sign of activity within, without so much as a peep, I pushed the door inward.
As expected, the room was only slightly smaller than the previous room. Nothing living stood on guard within. What we found were four three-foot-wide marble basins spread evenly around the perimeter of the room. Each reservoir had a different-colored flame suspended a foot above crystal-clear water.
“I think the flames represent the four elements: water, earth, fire, and air. Though, I have no idea what they do,” I remarked after we made an exhausted search. Beyond the four basins, the place was otherwise empty, to my dismay.
“This room’s boring,” Stella commented, mirroring my unspoken thoughts. Heck, even the placid water within the fountains seemed mundane, nothing more special than cold spring water. The only noteworthy thing was that it seemed devoid of any detectable mana. How it related to the flames, we couldn’t fathom. The place would remain a mystery.
Closing the door behind us, we continued following the steps higher. Based on how narrow the spire was becoming, I suspected we were fast approaching the top level. “Maybe one or two floors to go,” I whispered to my friends, who all nodded back in silent agreement. Then, the long spiraling staircase we had been ascending for hours came to a sudden and abrupt end.
Instead of more stairs, a featureless emerald wall barred our path higher. To the left and leading inside what was likely the final room, stood a pair of metallic doors far wider than any we had encountered so far. The metal was perfectly smooth, impossibly so, with a simple set of opal crescent-shaped handles touching back-to-back near the middle. A quick inspection revealed no lock nor any place to insert a key. As far as we could tell, the barrier opened like any other.
Wanting Ripley to take the lead, I silently instructed her to open the double doors after motioning for the rest of us to be on guard just in case we were immediately set upon by enemies within. With a final nod of confirmation, Ripley pushed open the doors.
What lay beyond made no logical sense and had each of us standing in mute incomprehension as we tried to understand what we were seeing. Stretching far off into the darkness ahead was a solid alabaster bridge with nothing but empty air off to either side. Yet, instead of a barren desert far below or a clouded evening overhead, only impenetrable inky blackness stared back at us. It seemed to stretch on forever. Peering upward, there wasn’t as much as a single twinkle of a distant star piercing the void. It was like staring into a black hole.
With the spire as narrow as it was supposed to be at this point, there was no way this vast chasm could fit within what should have been a twenty-foot-wide room. “What the hell is this?” I questioned in a low tone as I studied the bone-white bridge.
Absent any handrails, nothing held a passerby back from falling off the edge. Its only saving grace was the bridge was as wide as the doors leading inside, leaving more than enough room for our entire group to stand shoulder to shoulder with room to spare. Still, looking at the walkway across a literal void, a nagging in the back of my skull screamed we would be in constant danger of falling off should we attempt to continue forward.
“This has to be some sort of pocket dimension,” Stella replied mechanically, her eyes as wide as mine. “I think it’s designed to keep intruders from wanting to progress further.”
“So, what happens if we fall off?” I asked inquisitively, a sense of wonder coursing through me. With a slight flex of will, the feeling of impending doom from simply looking at the bridge faded away from my mind.
“Nothing good,” Stella answered. “Let’s be sure not to take a little tumble over the side, eh?”
Turning to Tallos, I saw escalating panic growing behind his eyes. “Focus on disbelieving the feeling you’re having. It’s an illusion. As long as we’re careful, we can make it across.”
With a little additional guidance from Stella, Tallos soon stood at his full height, confidence once more in his mannerisms. Ripley was unsurprisingly unaffected, with Lowki looking a little bored. Lowki’s nonchalance brought a slight grin to my face as I gave the panther a healthy rub across his ebony fur.
“We’ve got this, and whatever, or whoever is ahead,” I proclaimed confidently.
Returning my attention to the ivory walkway extending an unknown distance, I took a few tentative steps forward. It became quickly apparent that each step forward caused the darkness a hundred yards away to recede by the same amount. With a few simple tests, the pitch-black void followed us and never allowed more than the limited sight it afforded.
“This feels ominous,” I offered after quashing another feeling of unease attempting to worm its way into my gut.
A few steps further forward proved the bridge was completely stable and had no give like I would expect from a structure without visible support. It was no different from walking on solid ground. Feeling reassured, and with nothing else for it, our band of adventures pressed forward into the literal unknown and for whatever awaited ahead.
