Victor of Tucson-Chapter 32Book 10: : Pleasantries

32 – Pleasantries

When they were in Victor’s elevator, Bryn cleared her throat and asked, “Your Grace—” She glanced at Arona. “Victor, that didn’t sound like you.”

Victor looked at her, puzzled. “What?”

“When you said you would attempt to battle your curse.”

Arona lifted her hand to her mouth, masking a nearly inaudible snigger. Victor arched an eyebrow at Bryn. “What do you mean?”

Bryn cleared her throat again, looking to the side, and then, in a faux deep voice, growled, “I will crush this curse! How dare it soil the spirit of one such as I?” When she turned back to him, her smile was huge, her cheeks red. “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

Victor didn’t feel much like laughing. In fact, a petty part of himself reared its head and demanded he be insulted, that he remind them that he didn’t think his very possibly fatal curse was much of a laughing matter. He fought it down, though, and managed to force a weak chuckle. “All right, Bryn. You got me. Maybe it’s the duel, or maybe it’s this constant fucking agony in my chest. Maybe this curse is breaking me down, bit by bit. I’m not trying to sound pathetic. You make a good point; some confidence wouldn’t hurt.”

While he spoke, Bryn’s face fell, and Victor realized his attempt at not sounding pathetic had been pretty pathetic. “I’m sorry, Victor, I—”

“You’re fine. Come on.” Victor gave her shoulder a nudge just as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. “Forget it.” He exited first, walking with a perpetual slouch that he’d developed to keep his clothing from touching the cursed void in his chest. He went into his chambers and immediately felt the urge to go and sit in his cultivation chamber. He knew why: the Energy in there was rich, leaving little room for ambient void-attuned Energy. He wondered how much worse the curse would have been if his six-month-long vision trip had occurred outside the chamber.

Arona closed the door behind them, and he turned to see that Bryn had followed them in. He’d said, “Come on,” hadn’t he? He nodded to the sitting area. “Get comfortable if you want. I have some Farscribe books to look through.” He was relieved when both women took their seats, leaving him alone. Before tackling his correspondence as promised, he called up his status sheet, curious to see the totality of his Energy levels since expanding his Core and gaining nearly fifty intelligence:

Energy:

73105/73105

He chuckled when he realized he couldn’t remember exactly what it had been before. Somewhere around fifty thousand, he thought. It was undoubtedly an improvement. He figured he ought to be able to maintain his epic elder magic spells significantly longer. More than that, with his intelligence now at 388, his Greater Warborn Mind feat was giving him 77 points in both dexterity and agility. As far as he was concerned, taking the Warlord Class had been worthwhile, if only for that feat.

“Something’s funny?” Arona called from the sitting area.

Victor waved a hand, dismissing the question as he walked over to join them, sitting in an armchair adjacent to their couch. He dug out his Farscribe books, setting them on the table, and while Arona and Bryn had a glass of wine, he read through them, one by one.

His six-month absence hadn’t gone unnoticed by any of the many people he corresponded with, though only a handful seemed concerned. Of course, Valla and Rellia had sent him several messages asking for an update as to his well-being. Valla’s most recent message, sent nearly a week prior, was particularly desperate-sounding:

Victor – I swear, if you don’t respond soon, I will lose myself in despair. Please! Don’t make me come looking for you!

Of course, the short note had been preceded by several longer, far more detailed letters about her studies and how much she’d enjoyed seeing him again, among other topics. Victor figured he ought to reply immediately:

Valla,

I didn’t mean to leave you in the dark. I ate a natural treasure that kept me unconscious for six months. I know that sounds like madness, but it’s true. As for my health, it’s not changed much since I last spoke to you. Don’t worry about me.

Love,

Victor

It was a short, almost lazy reply, but at least it would keep her from panicking and doing something stupid. He wrote something similar to Rellia. Then, he took a while to read through notes from Edeya, Lam, Thayla, Efanie, and Gorro ap’Dommic, his governor. Everyone was well. Everyone was missing him. The keep guarding Du’s dungeon entrance had been completed nearly a month ago, and Deyni, Cora, and Chala were getting along well. Everything was…good. It brought some peace to Victor’s mind as he sat there reading through those missives.

When he set the books aside and looked up, he realized Bryn and Arona had been watching him. Far more relaxed than earlier, he offered a genuine smile. “How long was I reading those things?”

“More than an hour, but it's fine. We’ve been drinking some of your good wine.” Arona held her glass up to illustrate the point. Bryn giggled, and Victor had a feeling the wine was hitting her pretty hard. He chuckled, and, realizing they’d set a glass on the table before him, he picked it up. He held it high, leaning toward the two women.

When they hurriedly clinked their glasses against his, he said, “Here’s to you two. Thank you for putting up with me. I only woke up yesterday, and then I jumped into a duel. I haven’t heard about the toll my absence took on you.”

“I’ll drink to us!” Bryn laughed and tilted her glass back.

Arona was slightly more reserved, simply raising her glass in salute before sipping. Victor took a gulp of the impossibly smooth alcohol, then leaned back in his chair, trying to pretend his chest didn’t surge with fiery pain at the movement. “Go on then,” he said. “Tell me about what you did while I was slumbering away.” ŕ𝐚ƝꝊᛒÊs̩

They drank away the afternoon and the evening, and by the time midnight came around, even Victor was ready for some sleep, having consumed several bottles of potent wine. He’d told himself he wouldn’t sleep for a while, not after having wasted six months doing so, but after he’d said goodnight to Bryn and Arona, he felt the weight of his eyelids and was struck by powerful, wracking yawns as he shuffled into his bedroom.

As he lay down, an urge possessed him, and he summoned the special ring Tes had crafted for him before leaving. It was made of simple silver, but the band was thick and wide, meant for his thumb. She’d intricately carved hundreds of tiny runes into the metal and shaped it to hold a beautiful, ruby-red crystal. The stone was cut perfectly to capture light and disperse it in a weird, beautiful, misty glow that covered most of his hand when he wore it. It was a dream crystal, and if he wore it when he slept, so long as Tes also wore hers and slept, they’d meet on the plane of dreams.

They hadn’t made any sort of schedule, and Victor had slept with the ring on his thumb several times with no result, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t like the idea of a schedule, and Tes agreed—she was, at heart, a romantic like him. She’d said that if they were meant to meet, fate would arrange things. He’d loved the idea of those words, but, in practice, it wasn’t so satisfying when fate had, thus far, not seen fit to bring them together. Would that night be different? Drunk Victor was hopeful.

He put the ring on his thumb and flopped onto his pillow. He had to lie on his back; his curse was too painful in other positions. Usually, that restriction made it hard for him to fall asleep, but that night, he was soundly slumbering almost as soon as his eyes closed. Unfortunately, rather than a meeting with Tes on the plane of dreams, he had fitful, disquieting dreams about things he only remembered in fleeting glimpses and feelings—someone was missing or lost, he was stuck trying to complete something futile, and strangest of all, he was trying to prepare dinner, and the food was badly overcooked.

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When he dressed and emerged from his room, he found Bryn and Arona sitting at his dining table, eating a breakfast served by two of his household staff. “Thought you’d be sleeping in late, Bryn,” he said by way of greeting.

“I feel fantastic, Your Grace.”

Victor sat down, and one of the servants placed a platter before him. It was stacked high with scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and three different types of tart. The kitchen staff had grown accustomed to him having a near-bottomless appetite. Sadly, despite his long slumber with nothing to sustain him other than Energy, he just didn’t feel all that hungry. While Bryn and Arona chatted, he listened and picked at his food.

After a while, Arona set her steaming tea down and asked, “Are you not hungry, Victor?”

He shook his head. “No. When you’re finished, let’s set up the portal array.”

She took her napkin from her lap and primly dabbed at the corners of her mouth. “I’m ready now.”

“Are you leaving, Victor?” Bryn asked, willing to be informal now that the staff had left.

“Yeah, but just for a few days. I’m close to a level, and I want to go and earn it before I…” He looked up from his plate and locked eyes with her, grinning. “Before I kick this curse’s ass.”

She smiled, pushing her chair away from the table. “I’ll be sure to let the queen know. Is there anything you want me to work on while you’re away?”

Victor shook his head. “No thanks, Bryn. Just keep things running smoothly as you have been. I appreciate your hard work.”

With that, Bryn departed, and Victor and Arona went to his study, where they set up his portal array. Just a few minutes later, they emerged into the deep cavern at the heart of Mount Ember near the crackling, fiery portal to Du’s dungeon. However, things had changed: Du was no longer in a vast cavern but in a small, stone-lined room. The walls and ceiling had clearly been built around the portal, locking it behind a massive, rune-inscribed door constructed of a dense, dark gray steel alloy.

Victor approached the door and rested a hand on it, assessing the depths of Energy in the metal. It was certainly impressive, but nothing like amber ore. He was confident he could rip it from the hinges if he wanted to. Even so, it must have cost Rellia—and him—a pretty penny to install such a barrier on Fanwath. “I guess Rellia’s taking security seriously.”

“Should we visit the keep and the custodians?”

Victor nodded. “I suppose that would be the right thing to do.” He looked at the door again. “One problem.”

Arona laughed. “You don’t have a key.”

Victor laughed along with her as he set up the array again, and they waited a few minutes for the crystals to charge. Not long after that, they stepped through the weird magenta hole in the universe into the caldera proper. Things had changed a great deal atop Mount Ember. Victor had used the destination orb to choose a spot he remembered well—the slope overlooking the caldera from the old roadway before it had been ruined. Now, however, a new road had appeared, paved with meticulously fitted cobbles, featuring raised berms and proper masonry culverts.

Behind them, a guard station had been built at the top of the rise—a small keep in itself. When Victor turned to regard the construction, horns blared, the door at the base of the little keep flew open, and several soldiers in Rellia’s livery charged out with polearms ready. Victor waved dismissively, content to let them approach at their pace, and turned to regard the caldera.

The road ran at a gentle grade down toward the center, where a large, gray stone keep squatted. It was a square building with a central tower and a wide parapet, from which Victor could see soldiers patrolling. The portcullis and gates were open, invitingly, though, and Victor saw a dozen or so outbuildings, including more than one inn and a separate tavern. It seemed Rellia was intent on making prospective dungeon-goers comfortable.

More than the road and the buildings, it looked like she had Earth Casters hard at work revitalizing the grounds within the high cliffs that encircled the caldera. He could see dark, rich soil sprouting with green shoots everywhere. They weren’t crops but tiny trees. Nodding, smiling at the changes, Victor inhaled deeply, sampling the air. Magma Energy was still prevalent, but it was far more subdued than before. That was to be expected, however; Victor knew that Du would siphon off most of the volcano’s rage-filled fire. It made the place more pleasant—more…stable.

“Sir!” a gruff voice challenged from behind him. Victor didn’t have to turn; Arona was there to help.

“Calm yourself, fool. Lower your weapons. Do you not recognize the lord of these lands?”

Victor started forward, walking toward the keep, only partially listening as Arona answered a few questions from the soldiers. A moment later, she caught up to him, and he glanced at her, smiling. “Thanks for that. My patience has seen better days, and I didn’t want to chat with those men.”

“It’s nothing.”

When they reached the keep, only about a five-minute walk, a retinue had already formed in the gatehouse and, at its head, was Rellia herself. When Victor was only twenty yards distant, she abandoned decorum and ran forward, her long, crimson hair streaming behind her, her shapely, blue-tinted leg slipping through the sizable slit in her gown. She was a striking woman, Victor mused, his mind going to stranger and stranger places thanks to the dreamlike disconnect he was forced to affect to ignore the pain in his chest.

He remembered how Rellia had flirted with him after his victory over her in the arena back in Gelica. He wondered how his life might have changed had he stayed in the city and pursued her rather than wandering off to help Thayla and Deyni reach the Shadeni clan. The thought was strange, considering his relationship with Valla and Rellia’s subsequent motherly role with him, but his life was strange, so why not entertain a strange thought now and then?

He brushed the random tangent of meandering thought aside, nonetheless, and gave Rellia an appropriately chaste hug, turning his side to her slightly to avoid her pressing against his curse. “Victor!” she exclaimed, her eyes narrowed and scolding. “You should have communicated more frequently. I was worried! Oh, dear, I can tell from the dark hollows of your eyes that you’re not well.”

“I’m just the same, Rellia. Don’t worry.” Victor waved her off and gestured to the keep. “You’re doing a nice job here. It must have been costly to construct things so quickly.”

“Nonsense. We’ve plenty of resources in the Free Marches now, and your governor has been rather loose with the sizeable purse you left with him.”

“Oh yeah?” Victor chuckled. “Well, that’s good, I suppose.” He realized he’d been ignoring Arona and stepped to the side so he could look at Rellia and her together. “You remember Arona?”

“Of course. It’s lovely to see you, Milady.” Rellia took Arona’s hand.

“Likewise, Lady ap’Yensha.”

“Just Rellia, dear. Well?” She turned to Victor. “Will you join me for a meal?”

Victor grinned, clicking his tongue and peering up at the keep. “Is Valla waiting inside to ambush me?”

“You only wish she were, brute!” Rellia slapped his shoulder. “No, she’s busy with her strange studies under the oceans of a distant world.” She sounded a little bitter, and Victor, for the first time, wondered what she really thought about Valla’s current circumstances.

“I do wish it, if I’m honest. Oh well, I’ll settle for lunch with you.” He winked, finally finding some real humor, and Rellia laughed musically, tickled by the playful jab.

She took Victor’s hand, tugging him forward. “Very well. Please follow me, and we’ll have a rustic meal in this most rustic of keeps.”

Victor allowed himself to be led into the bulky edifice, and there, he and Arona spent a lovely morning visiting with Rellia, touring the keep, and talking about all she’d accomplished with regard to the volcano and the dungeon. After a couple of hours, they sat down to a “rustic” meal consisting of grilled steaks—Victor wasn’t sure what kind of animal—stewed vegetables, and fresh bread and butter. It was good, and something about the company or the setting helped Victor’s appetite, and he cleaned his plate.

Afterward, Rellia guided them downstairs, where she’d set up offices for the managers of the dungeon. She’d hired people to create a calendar and manage the various tiers of dungeon applicants. After letting the clerk on duty know that Victor and Arona would be using the dungeon, she guided them down a long, black-marble-lined corridor that wound its way into the mountain, descending several flights of stairs along the way. “We closed up the lava tubes entirely. This is the only access to the chamber now.

When they reached the underground cavern, Victor was impressed to see dozens of enormous stone columns lining the perimeter and, from their tops, grand stone arches that spanned the entire ceiling. “That looks like it was hard work.”

“You would think so, but a few tier-four Earth Casters make short work of such tasks.” Rellia nodded to the squat stone building at the center of the cavern. “We built that around the dungeon portal. There are only three keys to that door.” She nodded to the metal door Victor had already discovered from the inside. “One that the custodians hold, one that I hold, and this one—” She held out her hand, summoning a heavy, dark gray key with a dozen intricate tines. “—which you will hold.”

Victor took the key and pocketed it. “Thanks, Rellia. I think you’ve done an outstanding job here. Tell me, though, have you tried the dungeon?”

She looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “You wrote to me in the Farscribe book, but now I see you didn’t read my letters to you!”

“I did, but when I awoke, I had so many—”

“That you skimmed a little?” She laughed, letting him off the hook. “To answer your question, no, I’ve been waiting to speak to you because I didn’t know if there was some hidden danger or if you’d be angry that we used the dungeon’s Energy.”

Victor nodded. “Well, I appreciate that. You can use the dungeon. Just don’t let anyone above tier six go in. I don’t think you’ll need to worry about that, as we haven’t told anyone about the dungeon here, and—”

“No one in the Free marches is beyond that tier,” she finished for him.

“Right.” Victor gestured to the door. “Well, speaking of going in.”

“Very well, Victor. Thank you for spending some time with me. I hope you’ll see me again soon, and please, will you encourage my daughter to visit more often?”

Victor laughed. “I’ll try, Rellia; I really will. Don’t count on my skills of persuasion, however.”

Rellia smiled; her crimson eyes were dark in the dimly lit cavern, but she looked genuinely happy. He was almost envious. Wouldn’t it be nice to settle in one place for a while and watch it grow and improve? “Until we meet again, then, Victor.” She turned to Arona. “Keep him out of trouble.”

Arona’s raspy voice was light with amusement as she replied, “I can only try. Thank you for the lovely meal.”

With that, Victor hugged Rellia again, and then, using his new key, he and Arona stepped into the portal chamber and re-entered the Crucible of Fire.