A single ornate door stood before me. Decorative representations of Eresin washed over it, and the gold etchings glinted in the soft candlelight of the altar. A heavy bar had been lifted in front of the door recently. I could still see the scratches along the polished black wall to either side of the door.
I destroyed the primitive lock with a crushing strike from the Demure Rebirth.
I pushed the door open, and the Immense Blades went silent at the sight.
The Hierophant sat in a meditative position in the center of a wide pool of black fluid. Green streamers of energy whirled around him in strange, eldritch shapes, and the dull roar of whispered voices filled the room at my approach.
“Unbound spirits,” Nydarth whispered.
Chapter Thirty-One
The green tendrils of unbound spirits whirled around the Hierophant in a light-show of whispering voices. I took a step forward, and the spirits leapt to my body before I could stop them. I raised my hands, activated Sunlight Ichor, and drenched my skin with it. The sap seeped over me, but the streamers of spirit energy ignored my technique and latched onto the Immense Blades. The murmur of indistinct voices cut off abruptly, and I reached out with my mind to find Yono, Nydarth, and Choshi.
All I could find was my own thoughts.
I jerked in shock, but the Hierophant suddenly shifted. The ancient monk stood in a single, fluid motion. Black liquid dripped from his red robes, but it didn’t reek of the same corruption as the Broodmother. He turned to face me. Dark circles hung under his eyes, but the smallest smile touched his face.
“Worry not, Swordslinger,” the Hierophant said. “The Immense Blades are merely in conversation at present. They are in no danger, and the spirits have seen to it that we are not interrupted. We have much to discuss.”
I grappled with the implication of his words. I’d grown so used to the Immense Blades and their voices in my mind that their absence scared the hell out of me.
The greenish lights curled away from my back and returned to the black pool in the center of the room. Darkness closed in around us for a moment, but candles flared into life a second later around the walls. I took a step back at the sight. Altars bore images of dragons, fought each other for room along the walls, and graven images of creatures I’d never seen before flickered in the dancing light of the candles.
“Did they corrupt you?” I asked quietly.
The Hierophant considered my question. “You have seen corruption before. Do I look to you to be possessed by some malevolent being?”
His eyes sparkled with clarity as he spoke. I examined him closely, but the shrieking voice, madness-filled gaze, or aftermath of hate-filled violence was nowhere to be seen. The Hierophant looked exactly as I’d seen him on my first night in the monastery.
I shook my head. “The Immense Blades told me that interrupting your meditations could unleash hell in the monastery. I figured it had something to do with possession. So, you’ll forgive my caution.”
“Wise of you to listen to their counsel,” the Hierophant observed. “And, had you decided to step into this chamber without their presence, they may very well have been right. But you are safe for the moment.” A wry look crossed his face. “You look as if you’re about to burst from questions, Swordslinger. Ask them.”
“What the hell did Tymo do to you?” I asked. “How did he manage to keep you here?”
“Time works differently on other planes,” the Hierophant said. “I fully intended to continue your training myself, but alas, the spirits had much to warn me of. And deciphering their messages can take a rather long time. Very few enjoy the privilege of easy conversation with creatures of another plane as you do. Tymo simply encouraged me to seek out possibilities in our near future.”
“Tymo is dead,” I told him.
The Hierophant sighed. “Yes. The conflict of his oath within himself was too much to bear, and I believe you were the first to challenge him. We ascetics are trained in obedience first and foremost, and the brothers he sent out didn’t pause to question his motives. Even if it proved to be their undoing.”
“Seems like a system that’s almost bound to fail,” I said.
“To you, perhaps. But it has been our way of life for centuries. I must commend you, Swordslinger. Using the principles of Physical and Environmental Augmentation after such a short period of training is unprecedented. Even among our greatest students. While Tymo may have chosen to end his own life, you survived long enough to force him to confront his own loyalties.”
“You saw that?” I asked in astonishment.
“The spirits relayed it to me, yes.”
“Did they tell you anything else that happened while you were asleep?”
“Asleep?” The Hierophant raised an eyebrow at that but didn’t say anything to counter it. “They did speak of other things, yes.”
“Jiven Wysaro,” I said instantly. “What did he want with Tymo?”
“The Orb of Void,” the Hierophant said quietly. “A dangerous object that has lingered in the Seven Realms long before our time. A Dragon Spirit. A Vigorous Zone Core. An intelligent creature imprisoned within an ancient curse.”
“I didn’t even know Void was an element,” I said.
“The forbidden element, for a number of reasons. The sheer power of it corrupts almost all who come into contact with it,” the Hierophant explained. “Even my iron-willed brothers fell prey to it. The element dismisses the more tangible forces of nature and focuses its attention on far more powerful forces. Those of space and time.”
My mind flashed back to my last day on Earth. I’d observed a Russian military leader
