Victor of Tucson-Chapter 25Book 10: : A Fortuitous Encounter

25 – A Fortuitous Encounter

“Well? What sort of scales are those?” Arona asked, watching Victor hold the glittering, black-scaled pants out in front of himself.

“Let’s see here.” Victor sent a tiny current of Energy from his Core into the pants, and a System message appeared before him:

***Umbral Greaves of the Hollow: Fashioned from the blackened scales of the Ashen Maw, an elder drake that once hunted the souls of fallen demigods, these greaves were first worn by Vrak the Hollow, a warlord who ruled through terror. The Umbral Artificers of Direhold tempered the scales with abyssal ichor and bound them with the sinew of forgotten horrors, ensuring the armor would endure where flesh and steel would fail. These greaves are nearly indestructible, their scales capable of absorbing even the mightiest blows without so much as a crack. Yet their true power lies in the unseen—the dread that seeps from their very essence. The bearer of the Umbral Greaves will find their terror- or fear-attuned spells enhanced, their whispers carrying farther, their shadows stretching deeper. In the presence of these greaves, darkness lingers longer, and the air grows heavy with unseen dread.***

“Damn, Du! He outdid himself again!” Victor chuckled, turning the supple, scaled greaves in his hands again, looking at them with more appreciation. When he realized Arona was staring at him, waiting for more, he added, “Seems like they’re another ancient artifact, and they’re a perfect match for me—durable and attuned to fear.”

“I’m pleased that he came through for you. I was feeling rather guilty about my scepter, afraid that when I opened the chest, I stole your opportunity for something unique.” She wrinkled her nose, watching as Victor continued to examine his new greaves. “They are unsettling, even inert in your hands. I find myself wanting to look away from them.”

Victor arched an eyebrow. “Huh. Really?”

She nodded, then gestured to the chest. “You should collect your tokens.”

“Right.” Victor sent the greaves into storage and then bent to scoop out the stack of little golden tokens. Du hadn’t skimped—there were more than twenty of them. As he lifted them from the chest, a crackling, sizzling portal of flames appeared behind him.

Arona asked, “Ready to leave?”

“Not just yet.” Victor summoned a large, extremely sharp knife from his storage ring and nodded toward the corpse of the lava king. “I need to collect their hearts.” Frowning, he remembered the haunch he still had in storage from the first lava king he’d slain. “I should get some of their meat, too.”

“Do you know a recipe?” The way she asked the question—utterly matter-of-fact—made Victor chuckle again as he approached the first of the dead lava kings.

“Yeah, fire-roasted.” He wondered if his instinct would tell him that this heart wasn’t a fitting prize, considering Arona had slain it. Nothing stirred in his gut, though, and when he carved into its chest and pulled the still-warm organ from the cavity, his mouth salivated hungrily. Perhaps it was because they’d worked as a team that his innate “ritual” still considered the heart “worthy.”

Sending the heart into storage, he went to work, carving several hundreds of pounds of flesh from the creature. While he worked, Arona sat on a camp chair she summoned from her storage ring and idly studied her crystalline scepter. When he’d stored away the butchered portions of the lava king's corpse, Victor focused on the island where he’d slain the lava queen and— “No, that’s not right.”

“What?” Arona looked up.

“The one I killed isn’t a lava queen; it’s an ash queen.”

“Oh? You’ve studied these creatures?”

“I had a vision. I, um, experienced life as a lava king for a little while, and I remember being very proud of my ‘ash queens.’ Heh, it's very strange to hear myself say that.” He nodded toward the distant corpse. “Be right back.” He teleported to the island he’d created by freezing the lava and got to work, butchering the ash queen like he had the other corpse. Some of the meat was unpalatable—frozen by his glacial touch and then thawed by the scorching environment, and he left it where it lay.

While he worked, Arona surprised him by teleporting to his little island and asking, “Can you tell me about what you do with the hearts? While I watched your duel, the people in Kynna’s box were speculating about it; apparently, you’ve claimed a number of them from your defeated foes.”

Victor straightened from his bloody task and regarded her. He could trust her, couldn’t he? He wanted to, but he also recognized the need to protect himself; if she were taken and tortured or if, for some reason, she ever turned on him… He frowned, remembering that Ranish Dar knew his secret. How many people knew? How many had he revealed his strange ability to? He searched his memories, but as far as he could remember, only Tes, Valla, and Ranish Dar knew the details of what he did with those hearts.

“If it’s not something you want me to know—”

Victor shook his head. “It's not that. My mind just wandered off on a tangent. I collect the hearts of my strongest foes because, as a titan, I can gain some shreds of their strength by consuming them. You can imagine how knowledge of that secret could be dangerous, right?”

Arona nodded. “I struggle to see how, but there are old masters who might try to steal this ability from you.” She shook her head. “That’s not entirely accurate. I’ve seen Vesavo steal a man’s body because he craved his bloodline.”

Victor hadn’t thought of that. He knew the Warlord had been working on a way to steal bloodlines, but a Death Caster could, theoretically, drive the spirit from a person’s “vessel” and inhabit it using their weird phylactery magic. That made two different avenues for someone with power to try to take advantage of his ability. If he’d learned of two, there were probably more, perhaps many. “So, never tell anyone about this, all right?”

Arona stood up straight and bowed deeply to him. “I will give my life before I divulge your secret.”

Victor studied her as she bowed, and he could feel her sincerity. His instincts weren’t warning him about anything, so he grunted his acceptance of her promise and turned back to his work, butchering the ash queen. When he finished, and his storage ring held another few hundred pounds of meat, the two of them exited the dungeon, finding themselves back in the deep, fiery cavern at the heart of Mount Ember.

Du’s portal still floated there, but when Victor attempted to enter it again, for no other reason than to see if he could, a System message appeared:

***The entrance to this dungeon is locked to those of your tier for another 96 hours.***

“Four days to recharge, I guess.”

Arona smiled, tapping her nails on the crystalline ball of her scepter. “A short time to wait if we can gain another level with each run.”

Victor rubbed his chin, nodding. She made an excellent point. If they were able to gain even one level per run, he could be tier nine in a couple of weeks. He and Arona could be steel seekers in a couple of months. “How long do you think we were in there?”

“With the rests we took between some of the more arduous, lengthy battles, I’d say it was less than two days. Here—” She reached into her robes and pulled out a beautifully ornate silver pocket watch. “—if I’m right about the days, then we were only in that dungeon for thirty-five hours and seventeen minutes.”

Victor sat on a boulder and summoned the Farscribe book he shared with Kynna. The only update was a short note asking him how he fared. He knew she was afraid his curse was advancing faster than he’d let on, and she probably was wondering if he was dead already. He replied with a quick note, saying he was doing well and asking if she had an update on his next duel.

When he finished, he looked at Arona as he closed the book. “I need to maximize my time between trips through that dungeon. I’m going to find Gorro and drag him out here so he knows exactly where to build the keep to guard this dungeon. I also want to make sure nobody enters it until you and I are done with it. I can’t afford swarms of tier-four and five adventurers burning up Du’s Energy.”

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Arona nodded, but her face was pensive. After a moment, she asked, “Do you really think gaining levels will help your curse? So far, it hasn’t seemed to slow its growth.”

“The levels in my current Class aren’t helping, but that’s because I’m not gaining any will. When I hit tier nine, I’ll hopefully get an option for a Class that improves that attribute.” Victor sighed and stretched, hating how the burning pain in his chest seemed to expand with the movement. “I also gained two potent hearts in there. I’m hoping they’ll help, at least indirectly. Who knows what other treasures Du might send our way?”

“I see. And between dungeon runs? What will you do to enhance your growth?”

“Cultivate, eat natural treasures, and win duels if I have to.”

“Then we should keep moving. Shall I assemble the array?” She gestured to the stony cavern floor.

Victor stood and began pulling the teleportation array components out of storage. “Yeah. And, Arona, thank you for going through this with me. It helps to have someone who understands what I’m doing.”

“I will be by your side as you battle this curse, Victor. You won’t face it alone. I just wish I could help more. Are you certain increasing your will is the path to victory?”

Victor frowned as he set down the crystals for the array. “I’m not certain about anything. All I know is that the reason I have this curse is because that pendejo, Chenasta, had a stronger will than mine. The spell took root because I failed to resist it. Ranish Dar says I need to go to the spirit plane to battle against the curse, but he said it would be dangerous and that I’d need to build my strength—basically, the curse will be even harder to get rid of than it was to resist. If I failed the first time…” Victor trailed off, shrugging.

Arona picked up the crystals and began placing them in the correct positions. “I understand. You must build your strength before you attempt it. You must build your will.”

“Yeah. My will is the big piece, but I think every bit of strength helps. I need to improve my bloodline, gain levels, rank up my Cores—everything.”

“Understood.” She stepped back, and they watched as the crystals pulsed, gathering Energy. “Will we return to your home in this world? Will Gorro still be there?”

Victor thought about the question. It had been less than two days since he left Gorro. He doubted the governor could have gathered a construction crew suitable for building castles and bridges in such a short amount of time. “Yeah, I think so. We’ll go there, then open a new portal to the top of this caldera again and bring him through so we can show him what I want him to build. In fact, we’ll bring through a unit of my household guard. They can make sure no one wanders down into the lava tubes before Gorro has time to complete the construction.”

“And after that?”

“What time is it?”

“Early morning.”

“So, after we get Gorro straightened out, I’ll spend a few hours visiting with Cora, my ward, and then you and I can return to Iron Mountain.” He grinned, exposing his teeth. “I’ll have a feast, and then we can see if Bryn’s made any progress with my cultivation chamber.” As he finished speaking, the crystals flashed, fully charged, and Victor summoned the destination orb from his storage ring. “Here we go,” he said, picturing the garden behind his “hermitage” again.

###

When Victor ate the first of his two hearts, he once again glimpsed the fiery domain of the powerful fiery reptile. He had visions of basking with his brood on hot stones, consuming strange subterranean, fire-attuned creatures, and, of course, soaring through the hot gas-filled thermal updrafts of the massive caverns. It seemed a shorter vision than usual, and when he awoke, he was disappointed to find he hadn’t gained any new abilities like the flaming wings he’d taken away from the first heart.

Nevertheless, his Breath Core gained a full rank, which would have taken him a month or more of cultivation, at least based on the speed with which he and Lesh were gaining Energy back on Sojourn. When he checked the clock on the wall of his parlor, he saw that he’d only been out for an hour, so, with nothing else to do in the middle of the night, he took the ash queen’s heart out of storage.

He might have wondered if he’d be hungry enough to consume another raw heart, but he began to salivate as soon as he laid his eyes on it. Lifedrinker leaned against the couch where he lay, still gleaming with the red-gold light of his Imbue Spirit spell. He’d been reluctant to store her away after their little ordeal in the dungeon, and it gave him comfort to know she’d be there, while his visions consumed him. He summoned a bottle of sweet, honeyed mead and drank it down, quenching his thirst before lifting the heart to his lips and tearing a third of it off in a massive bite.

The flesh was sweet to him, sweet and tender, and it melted in his mouth as he crunched the juices out of it. He took another bite, and then the third, and his eyes watered with delicious satisfaction. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he swallowed the last bite, and he leaned back, feeling the warm lump in his gut, utterly satisfied. As he closed his eyes, a wave of warmth rolled over him, a sensation of well-being that was far too uncommon in his life as of late.

***

“What a weary one you are!” a soft voice said in his ear—soft but depthless with profound power that echoed through the hollows of Victor’s bones. He snapped his eyes open to see a woman leaning over him. A woman he both knew and didn’t know—she was tall and lithe with red-gold skin and raven hair that hung past her shoulders, interwoven with gleaming metallic black feathers. Her eyes shone so brightly they were like little golden suns, and when she smiled, Victor thought his heart would rip to shreds from her beauty.

He didn’t have to ask her name. “Chantico.”

“It’s good that you know me, brave one.” She sat beside him, and Victor realized he wasn’t in his parlor or lying on a couch, he was on a warm, grassy slope, basking in the warmth of the smoldering yellow sun.

He looked at her again, shielding his eyes from the sun. “I thought you were gone—I mean, from this plane or universe or something.”

“Perhaps, but part of me is in here.” She tapped his chest, and Victor could feel the potential behind that fingertip, like she could melt him down to his component atoms with a thought. “It creates a bridge. Hmm—” She took that same finger and rubbed her chin, grinning with a touch of chagrin. “I wonder if I’ll remember this meeting when I wake. My dreams often take me to distant reaches and I don’t always recall each step of my journey. Still, I’ve heard you calling to me more than once. I’ve felt your threads tugging through the ether. Didn’t I send you my fire once?”

“Yes!” Victor leaned forward earnestly. “You saved me!”

Her smile widened, exposing white teeth, and surprisingly large, sharp canines. “You must have deserved it. A one-sided battle perhaps? A repayment for gifts you sent my way? Perhaps both?” She winked, and Victor knew he didn’t have to answer. “Why are we meeting in our dreams, though?” She moved her gaze from his face, scanning the length of him. Her smile faded and she sighed heavily. “I cannot save you from the curse that defiles your spirit.”

“I…I didn’t expect you to.”

She nodded. “I can see the truth of those words.” Suddenly her frown lifted and she smiled again. “You consumed something potent—something to stir your bloodline! My dreams had me close, and so we met! How fortuitous!” She lifted her palm and brought it close to Victor’s chest, but he shrank back.

“It’ll hurt you.”

Her smile only grew broader as she pressed her palm against the painful sore on his chest. “Let’s take advantage of this lucky meeting, young warrior. I cannot lift this curse, but I can offer some guidance.”

“Thank you,” Victor said, looking down his nose at her hand, wondering why she didn’t pull her hand back.

“This curse cannot touch me because I make myself into a fortress. My spirit will not allow such corruption. I can see you’ve begun to understand that concept. You’ve a touch of the natural resistance of our people. You’ve learned that the flesh of the Quinametzin is laced with pride—how dare a poison think to corrupt our veins! Yes?”

“Yes,” Victor agreed, remembering his vision of the young Quinametzin who’d been poisoned.

“Well, flesh is but a part of your whole, Victor. Your mind and spirit are equally important. As you’ve embraced the Quinametzin command of the flesh—the insistence that your very blood must drive out corruption—you must learn to do the same with your mind and then your spirit. I can feel your Spirit Core, young warrior. You’re closer than you think to solving this riddle. You’re right to cultivate your will, but remember, the entity that enslaves you will also limit you. Don’t look to it for the answer.”

Victor’s eyes widened. Was she talking about the System? He opened his mouth to ask, but she held up her hand, interrupting him.

“Gah! I’m not good at this! I’m losing track of the issue at hand.” She pressed her palm to his chest again, and Victor could feel the currents of power in her, stirring his blood, speeding the flows of Energy in his pathways, causing his Core to flare. “You’ll need a breakthrough. Push your Core, young warrior. The answer to your curse is inward, not outward. What makes you strong? What makes you unbreakable? Answer those questions, and this curse will not be able to touch you.”

“What makes—” He began to ask, but then her touch was gone, and so was she. He was alone, staring at the blazing sun. He squinted, looking down the grassy slope toward the thick jungle growth that stretched as far as he could see. Something huge moved through the trees, and he stood, reaching for his axe. When his fingers closed on something soft made of fabric, he blinked and looked down. He was on a couch.

***

Victor yawned and stretched, realizing he’d awakened. The morning sun was shining through his balcony doors and, for a moment, he thought his strange vision had simply been a dream, but then he saw a System message awaiting him:

***Congratulations! Your Breath Core has reached Advanced 9.***

It seemed the ash queen's heart had also ranked up his breath core. Two ranks in one evening—no one could complain about that. After he looked at the message, he tried to remember the vision he’d had, but it was foggy and dreamlike. A vague impression of a grassy hill and a woman’s voice echoed in his mind. He didn’t usually struggle to remember visions that had to do with consuming natural treasures. Well, he didn’t think he did, but he supposed he’d struggle to describe the first few he’d had.

“A woman… It wasn’t a lava king memory. It was something else…” Hadn’t she been beautiful? Did he dream of Tes or Valla? No, that didn’t feel right. As he struggled to picture the woman’s face or hear her words, a faint echo came to him, and he focused on it, clinging to the shred of a memory, until he heard the words again. He repeated them, determined not to forget, “What makes you unbreakable…”

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