Black Onyx - Phoenix Resurrection

Thalza frowned and waved her hand, dispersing the ever-present dust that swirled around them. The stuff got absolutely everywhere! It was even more insidious than sand on the beach, finding every nook and cranny to lodge itself into. It also stuck to clothes and had a sort of charred smell that was impossible to get rid of in the Lower Planes.

They slowly approached the village Gerald mentioned. It was a small settlement with scattered houses and a weirdly thin pillar in the middle. Some guy was up there, looking at them.

She squinted her eyes at the guy, unsure what his wild hand gestures meant. Probing his power, she snorted a laugh. The man was in the early stages of Golden Core, absolutely useless in terms of combat power.

She didn’t know what she expected. The highest level of power anyone had in the Lower Plane was the peak of Spirit Realm. Any sane person breaking through to the Sky realm would leave, that much was obvious. She was close to it herself, maybe a decade of hard work if she really put her mind to it. At least that’s how it was outside.

Unfortunately, Gerald was right. She lacked energy for proper Cultivation, and even with the help of a Soul Stone, a century to advance a single step wouldn’t even be that extreme. Perhaps he was even being optimistic.

She sighed. She was already over two centuries old. If she spent another century mucking about in the Lower Realm, that would already be more than half of her lifespan gone. She couldn’t accept that.

There has to be a better way to escape!

As thoughts shifted through her mind, the villagers gathered in a group at the entrance of the Echoes of the Forgotten Dawn. They tensed, swords and shields raised, ready for a fight.

She scanned the gathered crowd and couldn’t contain her smile. Only a handful were in the Spirit Realm, and those were all older men. None of them could hurt her, which allowed her to relax. Unlike the monster she was traveling with, whose every flick of his hand could obliterate her body and Soul, finally seeing normal people served to greatly lower her stress.

There is still sanity in this world.

Gerald marched on without stopping, the army of golems following his every move while she paused, waiting to see what would happen. The tension rose and then suddenly exploded.

“Monsters! Prepare to die!”

The mustachioed man at the front of the formation shouted first, his powerful voice amplified by whatever magic he was using. He ran to meet Gerald head-on, and when the two were just a few meters away, he took a combat stance, anchoring himself into the ground, threw out his hand, and blasted a torrent of energy at him.

“Haaah!” The man shouted, his roar seemingly giving him the power to keep going.

Gerald’s eyelids fluttered a bit and he squinted his eyes as the wind generated by the man’s magic assault messed up his hair and clothes. He didn’t react otherwise, simply standing there like a statue in a hurricane.

After a few seconds, the torrent diminished and then stopped, the man himself gasping for breath. As there was still no reaction from Gerald, the other warriors nervously approached, swords and spears pointing forward. Thalza could see their limbs tremble as they moved, and though she enjoyed seeing humans suffer, the sight was just too pathetic for her to remain silent.

She came up to Gerald and elbowed him in the ribs. “Why are you like this? This old guy just tried to kill you, yet you just stand there like a statue! Can you at least pretend to have felt that? Just look at the old fart, he put so much effort into it!”

The Chief looked at her wide-eyed and then at Gerald with even more confusion and fear.

Gerald leaned forward slightly as if in a bow as he loomed over the old man, chuckling. [Forgive my companion’s outburst, good sir. She’s… It’s been a long road for us all.]

“Three weeks! It’s been three weeks of constant walking, you bastard! At a snail’s pace too!” Thalza suddenly exploded.

[Don’t forget that one day when we flew for at least eight hours.] Gerald corrected her calmly.

“Hah! As if that counts! With all the dust I had to endure, and your stupid golems throwing up sand and gravel in my face, it’s a miracle I didn’t lose my mind already! And now you-!”

Gerald made a hand gesture, signaling her to shut up. At the same time Thalza felt her jaw clench, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t open it again.

“Mhhm!” She protested, unsuccessfully.

[There. That’s better. Now that all distractions were taken care of, why don’t we introduce ourselves like civilized people?] Gerald suggested with a smile, and the Chief slowly straightened his back, nodding.

His eyes glanced at the army of golems surrounding them and he sucked in a cold breath. Whatever aggression was inside him at the beginning quickly cooled down as soon as he exhausted his energy without so much as scratching the opponent despite blasting him point-blank in the face.

[I am Gerald Fireborn, the first of my kind.] Gerald introduced himself with a dignified bow and then gestured at him. [And who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?]

The Chief nervously chuckled, not mentally prepared for the conversation at all.

So, the village was called Echoes of the Forgotten Dawn. An unusual name to be sure. The residents also had a different name for the Lower Plane. They called in the Ashen Wastes, and, I had to say, it fit. Gray endless expanse. Smelled like it was burned too.

Chief was the leader of the little village, but his real name was… Well, everyone just called him Chief, so I did the same.

They were a prison colony, believe it or not. All the people present were there as punishment. They were not criminals though, not in a real sense. They were more of a gathering of political enemies, sensitive political figures, and inconvenient obstacles the outside rulers needed to quietly get rid of.

At least that’s what they told me. Apparently, the rift opened once a month or so and they received supplies from the outside world.

“What? Why would they give you supplies? That’s dumb. Why don’t they just let you starve in here?” Thalza asked after the Chief finished his explanation. Yes, I let her speak after she calmed down.

We were sitting at a table in Chief’s house where he served us some alcohol. Apparently, it was a real luxury good in the Ashen Wastes, considering nothing grew down there. Well, except for a tuft of grass here and there on a rare occasion.

Hearing Thalza’s question, Chief sighed. He looked around the room with a lowered gaze, debating whether he should tell us.

“Oh, what the hell… The secret will get out eventually anyway.” He reached into his robe and pulled out a small pendant. He lifted it in front of him and a small rift appeared in the air. He reached inside and pulled out a piece of rock, placing it on the table.

Thalza picked it up.

“A stone?” She lifted an eyebrow. I had to admit, it didn’t look like anything special. It was just like any other gray rock out there, and she confirmed that by easily crushing it between her fingers.

“It’s just a common stone, yes, but that’s not all there is.” He took the gravel and pushed it towards me. “The masters call it… Dreadstone.”

[Hmm.]

I took the rocks and my eyes began to glow with immense power as the energy I was using to examine it began to leak out. The molecular structure of the stone was revealed to me, as were the tiny fragments of something else mixed within. Both Thalza and the Chief took a few steps back.

Shortly thereafter, I returned the pebbles and placed them on the table.

[There is certainly something there, but… Do you have a more refined version?]

“That is the refined version…” The Chief chuckled awkwardly. “Thousands of tones of raw ore are required to get just a pinch of the refined material. Not that we have the facilities or the power to refine it in here.”

I looked him in the eyes. [So… What does it do?]

The man shrugged. “I don’t know. None of us here do.”

[But your masters require it?]

“Yes. We have to send it through the rift every time it opens. If we do not gather enough, the next month the resources we get will be cut.”

[Paid in advance.]

“That’s right.”

[And who are these... masters of yours?]

Once again, the Chief shrugged. “Funny thing is, none of us remember. Every time I try to remember my time outside I get… nothing. Like it didn’t even exist.”

[Huh…] I quickly took a peek inside the Chief’s mind, but as he said, there was not much in there. Whoever wiped his memory did a much more thorough job than the Drow. There weren’t even remnant memories left. All there was was the time spent in the Ashen Wastes. It was like the man spawned inside, fully developed.

“Anyway... Let me show you our mine since you are already here.” The Chief offered. We had no reason to decline, so we followed him.

“Here it is!”

The Chief proudly gestured at a small walled-off area with a bunch of holes. Scans showed tunnels leading deep underground, crisscrossing the bedrock like a spiderweb.

“That’s it?” Thalza asked, baffled.

[Huh, I expected… something different.] I looked at the Chief. [Wouldn’t an open pit mine be better? You could just remove the surface layer and get directly to the good stuff.]

The old man sighed, his mustache flicking side to side.

“We would love to, but…” He chuckled sadly while spreading his hands wide helplessly. “We don’t have the energy for it, unfortunately. They refuse to send us any Spirit Stones, so we must rely on Soul Stones to recharge, and we don’t have nearly enough of those.”

I nodded, thinking for a moment.

[You wouldn’t mind if we dig around a bit, right?]

“Be my guest. This entire place is filled with traces of Dreadstone, there is enough for all of us.” The old man chuckled. “Just don’t do it near the village, please. We have enough dust already.”

[Sure!] I smiled and then turned back to my companion. [Hey, Thalza. Remember how I said I might spend a few years exploring this place?]

“Yeah?” She slowly asked, her voice filled with suspicion.

I grinned. [I think I just found out how I want to spend my time here.]