Chapter 52

All ignored the Dark Lord as he made his way through the grounds where cadets were being taught various manoeuvres both on foot and on horseback. This was due to the casting of a spell, as the Dark Lord had realised his sister Serulon had become suspicious of certain events and was likely checking for any with his likeness. Not that the Dark Lord looked the same as he had in Thennaron, it was just that another god would see his aura and recognise just who he was ... and then wonder how he had done it.

“A word with you, sir,” the Dark Lord finally said to a middle-aged man exiting a classroom.

“And who might you be?” came a reply in suspicious tones.

“Someone with a cure for your boredom.”

“And how would you know about that?”

“You think your god wouldn’t notice?” the Dark Lord answered, making the man pause.

“You don’t look like any god I’d take notice of.”

“Nevertheless, I speak for him and would offer you some advice.”

“Just what I need, someone claiming to be representing Colanthus,” the man sighed. “In case you hadn’t noticed, becoming one of his champions is a likely death sentence these days.”

“I don’t represent Colanthus, I represent the Dark One.”

“Well, that’s different, but the answer’s still no.”

“You aren’t interested in becoming the supreme ruler of Tsurok?”

“Bloody freezing country filled with lunatic entitled psychopaths fighting over the same mountains day in, day out,” the man retorted. “What do you think?”

“With my guidance, you’d reach the top easily.”

“I’d rather be bored and alive.”

“I can guarantee you’ll succeed,” the Dark Lord countered.

“The answer’s still no, now be on your way,” the man replied before walking off, never looking back.

The Dark Lord remained where he was, ignored by all, pondering his failure. He had been certain of his powers of persuasion and that he could have meddled with the narrative by sending the man to Tsurok to do his bidding. Yet it was the first time he’d encountered anyone happy being bored. What the Dark Lord had missed, however, was the man’s history, where many of his friends had died in the numerous petty skirmishes that Tsurok fought over the Gold Mountains and their bounty. This had equated in the man’s mindset as boredom means being alive, and not struggling to survive in a freezing land where everyone was out to kill you.

“I will just have to find something else,” the Dark Lord murmured, then left the academy grounds.

The greater Erren pondered a slight divergence in the narrative that had inadvertently corrected itself in Kursalle. She was pretty sure her brother had attempted to meddle and had been plotting an intervention when the situation resolved itself as if it had never happened.

‘I doubt it has finished there, but it does appear his powers of persuasion are not the be-all and end-all he thought they were, ’ Erren mentally mused.

Erren’s avatar was experimenting, though Darras was unaware of this, and he did not know that a potential task for him had disappeared. Erren had, after the conversation with Casal, finally got a measure of how to interact with the dreamland. The methodology she was using was experimental, though promising, in that her avatar could interact with the dreamland, whereas the greater Erren couldn’t sense it at all. Nor was she aware that her methodology differed from her brother’s in that it was unforced, in that she only needed to focus on an outcome, not drive her will to make that outcome happen.

Darras was practising his archery and hadn’t noticed Erren’s multitasking. That was until she faded out of his sight, only to reappear at the other side of the range in the same instant. She then did the same, moving from site to site until, at last, she appeared next to Darras with a happy smile.

“Yes, it is possible to move through the dreamland and not set off any alarms in the spiritual realm,” Erren informed Darras.

“Is that what you were doing?”

“Yes, this avatar can ... feel the boundary, whereas my other self can’t.”

“I thought the other you was you ... in a manner of speaking?” Darras queried.

“It is, but this body dreams, my other self doesn’t, as it doesn’t sleep.”

“So, potentially you could visit the world?”

“Potentially, yes, though I won’t, not until this business with my brother is resolved,” Erren smiled.

“Ah, yes,” Darras nodded. “No doubt Serulon will be on alert.”

“She is, though she apparently missed my brother’s attempt at interference in Kursalle.”

“Attempt?”

“As in whatever he tried didn’t work,” Erren giggled.

“That must have been frustrating for him,” Darras chuckled.

“Seems likely, though no doubt he will be looking elsewhere.”

“And when he does, I’ll stop him,” Darras nodded.

“I know you will, my love,” Erren smiled.

The Dark Lord stepped through the veil of the dreamland into the city of Timun in Asul. After the disappointment of Kursalle, he felt that the chances of success here were far greater, if not as likely to cause as much disruption. The man he was looking for was a seasoned adventurer who led expeditions into the Deadlands. All the Dark Lord needed to do was guide the man to a specific artefact and allow it to possess him. This also entailed ensuring it didn’t kill the man, which was the normal outcome for any who discovered it.

Denner Vosok was a veteran of the Adventurers Guild in Timun, a designation given to anyone who was still alive after their first year. It was possible to make a reasonable living exploring the various ruins in the Deadlands, but it often meant the death of any who was inexperienced. Denner frequently supplemented his income by permitting inexperienced adventurers to join him on his expeditions, a few of whom went on to become veterans themselves. He would also take on commissions from wealthy clients seeking specific magical artefacts. Therefore, Denner was not surprised when a stranger approached him in the guild, asking him to search out what was described as a magical sceptre.