Mage Tank

Once Nuralie reluctantly agreed to the strategy, I spent 3 days experimenting with my Dimensional skills. Nuralie took the time to study the threads, growing intimately familiar with their composition. She even learned to look deeper upon the thread that sought to move through an unknown spatial dimension without suffering mental trauma. Not much trauma, anyway.

Volume 4 of Dimensionalism and You was a little off with its guidance. It told me to travel ‘inward’ to find the seventh path, which I took to mean a seventh potential direction away from myself. Up, down, left, right, forward, backward, and strangeward. While the thrust of the concept allowed me to expand my focus beyond my intuitive sense of movement, when I finally latched on to something, it was clear that I wasn’t traveling ‘inward’. I would very much be traveling away from where I was, just not in any direction I could wrap my head around.

When I finally locked on to the strangeward direction, it was predictably incomprehensible. I couldn’t process the space itself, but I could attempt navigating it by using the shadow that it cast as a reference. Shadows cast by three-dimensional objects are normally two-dimensional. A sphere might cast a circular shadow against a wall, for example. The shadow cast by the space toward which strangeward took me was itself fully three-dimensional.

It would have been impossible to make any reasonable progress if the path between the two rooms had been complex. That would have been like a toddler trying to solve a Rubik's cube from its shadow alone. Thankfully, it was a straight shot. It wasn’t even that far. There was a short ‘hallway’ that connected the two rooms, although the ‘hallway’ felt infinitely larger than either of the rooms themselves. Reaching out with Shortcut exposed some kind of barrier between the two points, but it was small, insofar as anything in that space could be called small.

I was soon able to travel from the basilica to the cathedral using Reckless Shortcut. The distance was close enough that I didn’t take any backlash from the spell, and I could flick back and forth between them without trouble.

While I was in the cathedral, I did another few loops and found only more of the cathedral. Nuralie was also nowhere to be found, since she was standing in the basilica.

There was a brief moment after my teleport when Nuralie could see the spiritual thread coming to life and connecting to something, presumably following me through the brief portal that I created. After a dozen teleports, we had the timing down to a narrow window where we could both hit our respective buttons while the thread was active. We did a few trial runs where we cast a spell instead of hitting the button, then used our mana regen ticks to make sure we were properly coordinated. Finally, we were ready to give it a shot.

Nuralie stood in the basilica, eyes focused on the thread and hand hovering over the red, soul-enshrouded button. I did a countdown in my head, then cast Reckless Shortcut, appearing in the cathedral. Two quick beats later I slammed my hand down on the ice-blue button that sat before the heart-pierced statue of Deijin.

The lambent glowstones on the triangular shelves behind the statue began to extinguish. There was an invisible divide between them, and the stones on the left had started to go out just ahead of when I’d hit my button. I assumed that each half was connected to one of the buttons and that Nuralie had hit her own just ahead of mine. I held my breath, hoping that there was some grace with the timing. After all, what would have happened if there’d only been 1 of us inside the loop? There had to be some margin of error provided.

When all the stones had gone out, I heard the shuffle of moving earth and turned to peer through the narrow, bronze doorway. Hundreds of humanoid creatures were dragging themselves from the dirt throughout the field outside. They were nude, bodies pale and filthy. Their eyes were vacant, their expressions slack, but they began walking towards the cathedral with rapid strides. It was not the meandering shuffle I expected of the dead, but the steady march of people with a purpose.

I quickly identified one.

Husk: Undead, Grade 10.

As the first few Husks made their way through the door, I raised my hammer and shield, prepping for oncoming violence. I could handle a few grade 10s on my own. Of course, there were 512 of them. However, before the first ranks of the soulless dead could meet me, the walls of the cathedral rippled and shimmered.

An ethereal view of the basilica superimposed itself atop the cathedral, its warm colors and spherical chambers contrasting sharply with the dreary and geometric features of the cathedral. The mosaic floor shimmered in a combination of colors from both churches and shifted aside, revealing recesses from which figures emerged, clad in golden robes.

They were Deijinin, the loson race with bird-like attributes. Feathers ran down their heads and arms, their hands ending in talons, their eyes bright yellow, orange, or green. Wings sprouted from their backs and they lifted off the ground with a few quick flaps. As they spun to face me, the Deijinin looked upon me with marble features, bodies enveloped by a thin gray soul halo. Something about the souls felt wrong, however, artificial. I realized that they were not true Deijinin, but statues like the icon of Deijin herself. Their eyes drifted past me, fixing on Deijin. A look of fury crossed their faces and they began rushing toward her.

I turned to follow their flight as they sped around me, finding Nuralie standing close to the altar, awed by the scene. She watched the Deijinin in amazement, but a dark look crossed her face when she caught sight of the door. She stepped forward, readying her bow. I spun to follow her gaze and saw the soulless Husks streaming through the narrow door. Their progress was slowed as 16 of the Deijinin swooped forth to bar their entry with towering shields. They formed a shield wall the width of the cathedral, and the Husks began beating upon them with thick fists. The blows created deep thunks against the shields and the Deijinin shifted their footing to resist the tide of flesh that continued to pour in.

The flight of Deijinin landed on the deity’s statue, their hands grasping at the spear that bound her. Sixteen gathered and gripped the haft, then 16 more wrapped their arms around those and helped to pull back against the weapon. More of the Deijinin gripped the statue, locking it in place as the spear slowly slid out from Deijin’s heart. Once the weapon was pulled free, the statue burst to life.

Deijin stood from her throne, 10 feet tall, robes transforming from stone to cloth and billowing in a brisk wind that suddenly filled the cathedral. Her form was enveloped in a swelling soul halo, deep and powerful with a spark of the divine. It was a far cry from the power I’d sensed from the avatars or even Zura, but it was still potent and bathed the room in holy majesty, enveloping all who stood before her. Still, like the Deijinin, her soul rang hollow, as though it were carved from stone as well.

Deijin looked down at the altar where the mass of disconnected soul now sat. She reached out and touched a single finger to the orb, the light flaring and traveling up into her arm. Her multicolored wings stretched and she swept forward, the gust left in her wake strong enough that I threw an arm up to shield my watering eyes. The icon landed in front of the Deijinin shield wall and amidst the teeming mass of Husks. They reached up and gripped at her robes, pulling and tearing at them, their hollow eyes filling with pain, mouths starting to hang open in yawning, silent cries.

Deijin swept her arms and wings wide and spiritual energy poured from her in a torrent, radiant beams striking the hearts of each of the Husks. Scores of the creatures began to pull away, looks of confusion replacing despair, some holding hands to their faces as if overwhelmed. Their bodies began to transform, their features becoming defined, scales, feathers, or craggy growths sprouting on their skin.

The shield wall backed up, allowing more of the Husks to pour into the cathedral, whose hearts were quickly blessed with the essence of life. Deijin’s gift swept through them in a gale and, in time, the creatures were turned from a mindless horde to a rejoicing mass of Guelons, Hyrachins, and Deijinin. A full congregation of 512 newborn losons praised the icon of Deijin, dropping to their knees, bowing at her feet, and weeping with joy.

Nuralie stepped up beside me, eyes glistening, and we watched the spectacle together in silence. Eventually, the figure of Deijinin pulled away from her flock and glided back to us. When she landed, she looked down at us with warmth and curiosity. Half of the golden Deijinin gathered behind her like guardians, watching us with cautious eyes while the rest moved through the former Husks, gifting them new robes and baskets of food.

Deijin looked between the two of us, her false soul poking and prodding at our own. After a few moments, she smiled and spoke in a voice that made the very walls of the cathedral tremble.

“You worked toward enlightenment when you could have rested in ignorance. You exercised restraint when you could have prevailed through violence. I am thankful for your patience and your temperance. You may now quit yourselves of this prison, but I offer you these gifts to aid in your travels.”

She held out her hands, each of which held a shining ring, and offered one to me. It was clear and faceted, catching the light of the chamber and casting countless reflections. The other seemed to be made of blue mist, ever moving but fixed in its shape. She held that one out to Nuralie.

We accepted the rings and, before I became distracted by the reward, I met Deijin’s eyes and decided to ask her a burning question.

“Hi, hello,” I said. “Thanks for these. I have a question if you have a moment to answer.”

Her smile widened slightly and she inclined her head for me to continue.

“So, I understand the rooms being separated by an extra dimension, but why were there two rooms on the loop? Why did they change back and forth by random chance? I’m not sure that follows from the spatial tomfoolery that was going on. Not that I have a firm grasp of the implications of said foolery.”

Deijin listened to my words, eyes distant in contemplation afterward. She smiled down at us again, then spoke.

“You worked toward enlightenment when you could have rested in ignorance. You exercised restraint…”

So on and so forth. Nuralie frowned and leaned over to whisper to me.

“We can ask the next statue we find the same question. I am sure they will have a satisfactory answer.”

I glanced at her, eyebrow raised, and she gave me a small grin. I chuckled, heady from relief after being trapped in the loop for nearly a week. Before we had a chance to inspect the rings or further test the pseudo-inanimate object for its doctoral candidacy, the icon waved a hand and the room disappeared as we were teleported away.

The cathedral faded and the world resolved itself into an onyx chamber lit by brass lanterns. Glossy ferns filled the space, with bioluminescent mushrooms adding a subtle green glow to the soft light of the oil lamps. The space immediately around us was a small patch of low grass. A stone table was nestled at its center, covered in a variety of drinks and food. There were no entrances or exits to be seen, nor were any of our party members present. I took a glance at the table, my mouth watering as the smell of freshly grilled meats and soft bread wafted over us.

“Wait,” I said. “The statue said we could have prevailed through violence. Does that mean that we could have punched our way out?”

“I guess so.” Pause. “If we wanted to be ignorant brutes.”

“Could we have been well-educated brutes?”

“Maybe if we’d solved the puzzle and still punched our way out.”

“Missed opportunity,” I said with a sigh. “What a day. Straight from violating spatial laws and aiding the simulacrum of a deity to a lovely picnic.”

Nuralie ignored the table, instead studying the ring in her hand. I took her cue and identified my own ring.

Deijin’s Path

May her wings guide you.

Requirements: WIS 30, Dimensional Magic 30

+60% to the range of your teleports.

“Pretty damn good,” I said, taking off my gauntlet and slipping it on.

The ring adjusted size to fit my finger, then grew flat and unobtrusive when I slid my gauntlet back on over it. I’d snagged another level in Dimensional with my first 4D teleport, so the ring took my ‘safe’ teleport range up to 248 feet. If I went all out with Reckless Shortcut, the ring would take my maximum range up to 4.7 miles, which was really starting to cover some distance.

“Is your ring as busted as mine?” I asked Nuralie. She’d already equipped the item but held her hand up for me to inspect.

Deijin’s Star

May her generosity empower you.

Requirements: Intelligence 40, Spiritual Magic 20

+60% to the range of your Sense abilities.

“You can certainly take advantage of that,” I said. “Looks like the rewards were based on our main contributions to solving the puzzle.”

“Do you think there was a different reward if we solved it through punching?” she asked. “Or was this a special reward for solving it the correct way?”

“Who the fuck knows,” I said, then sat down heavily at the table. “This Delve is full of all sorts of ambiguous shit. How do we even know we solved that puzzle the ‘correct’ way? I mean, how would anyone else have solved it?”

Nuralie sat across from me and started taking in the spread of delights.

“The challenges might be tailored to us,” she said. “The Delve Core had weeks to observe us in the Training Expo. Maybe it changes things based on the Delvers.”

“Itsh poshible,” I said through a mouthful of delicious, warm brown bread. Why was it still warm? Who put it there? How high was their Baking skill? It was damn good. I swallowed and gestured at Nuralie with the half-eaten hunk. “I, for one, am turning my brain off for a bit. Oh, is this beer?” I peered into a flagon filled with an amber liquid. I smelled it, poured some out into a tankard, and took a sip. “No, it’s fruit juice. Even better!” I drained the glass and poured myself another.

“I think your questions about the loop may not have an answer you would like,” Nuralie said, filling a plate with grilled fish and root vegetables.

“Brain’s off,” I replied. I chewed on a bite of steak, then set my fork and knife down and crossed my arms. “Fine, go ahead and explain.”

“You want the puzzle to make sense from your old perspective. Earth did not have magic, and so the sciences of Earth do not consider that as a factor.” She took a sip of a light-colored wine. “Perhaps we are ignorant of the nature of higher dimensions and the puzzle’s layout makes sense on a level we can never comprehend.” Pause. “On the other hand, the puzzle was not merely one of dimensions, but also of the spirit. Many powers were at play that went beyond our expertise. I would not ascribe mundane logic to a living statue, so perhaps you should not ascribe Earth logic to a dimensional space that is, almost certainly, governed by some magical concepts.”

I leaned back and stared absently at the ceiling, working the idea through my head. My natural inclination was to reject the idea. After all, if I was willing to give up pursuing a theory because I could throw my hands up and say “magic”, it would be very easy to become intellectually lazy.

Still, the loson had a point. Despite having been given the advice several times, I tended to overlook the presence of supernatural forces when dealing with problems in Arzia. Maybe the Delve had arranged the loop to give us hints, and the shifting stairwells didn’t have an answer rooted in traditional physics. In the end, I would probably never know, but that didn’t mean I was going to give up thinking about it. It just meant that there were additional variables to consider.

“Maybe the entryways to the stairwells were tethered to an anchored dimensional space,” I began. “Since both led to the same three-dimensional location, the entryway could have been enchanted to create a random chance as to which fourth-dimensional location it revealed once observed.”

“Enchantments based on observation could be a function of Spiritual magic since it often deals with the mind,” Nuralie added. “The spaces becoming fixed once observed could also be from some kind of spiritual link to the relevant space.”

We debated the possibilities as we feasted to our heart’s content. I was glad to have gotten the opportunity to spend some extra one-on-one time with Nuralie. I could be as cerebral as I wanted, and she not only kept up but also challenged me. Not to say the rest of our crew wasn’t a smart bunch, but they weren’t always willing to partake in an hours-long debate. Varrin only had so many thoughts on the relationship between mana weaves and the tensile strengths of different metals, for instance. Eventually, he just wanted to start cutting shit into pieces to determine which magic sword he liked better.

The food was good, the environment was pleasant for a Delve, and all was well with the world until homicidal insects began crawling out of the walls.