Athar slumped against the wall, exhausted from the last sparring session of the day with Irun. Sweat poured from his head as he caught his breath, leaning against the edge of the training room. "Gods above and below, Irun, you're incredibly fast," he said between gasps. "Thanks, but you're actually getting better at sword-casting. I'm impressed with your progress the past few months," Irun replied, a few beads of sweat falling off his chin.
"Yeah, but there's still a limit on how much mana I can pull, it seems," Athar said, feeling a little down. "Don't worry about how much mana you can pull, it's about what you do with it," Irun replied. "I know, I know. It's just… frustrating. Like I'm about to learn to fly, but get my wings clipped by something I can't, or don't know how to, control," he said, mentally kicking himself.
That's kind of how I felt, Irun thought, recognizing these emotions as if they had been his own.
"Well, what if we asked him? To… uh, you know… help?" Irun asked, trying to offer a solution to his adopted older brother's plight. "I don't know if he would help, but we can at least try," he said, pondering the offer briefly. "I mean, he's helped me a lot the past few months after having done something to my core. It's like he's holding me back on purpose," he said, not realizing the weight of his words.
"What do you mean holding you back? Not even my old master would do that if the student were gifted enough. Can you explain why you think that?" Irun asked, his curiosity peaked.
"I don't know how to explain it, exactly. It was like he dug around in both my brain and my core at the same time, like he was looking for something," Athar replied, his long, dark hair being swept back, flicking a few specks of sweat onto the wall behind him. "That's a weird way of putting it, but I'll trust you on it," Irun replied, his face twisted with confusion.
The Masked One can do that? Shit, this might be worse than I thought. I wonder if he looked into mine at some point and I just didn't know it, Irun thought, thinking back on his past encounters with his new master.
"So, do you want to give it a try, or are we just going to sit here and wallow in self-pity?" Irun asked after a few beats of silence had passed. "Yeah, I just hope he's not busy," Athar said noncommittally. After gathering their gear, they made their way down the many halls of Valdis searching for the Masked One. However, after about thirty minutes, there was no sight of him.
"Only one place he could be, and I'm not sure I want to fuck around and find out if he's in there," Athar said, caution ruling his voice. "Where would that be?" Irun asked. "In the summoning chamber where he communes with the Undergod," Athar said, a chill running up his spine as he recalled the last time he was in Volzuk's presence.
The pair made their way down to the chamber quickly and quietly, just in case he really was in a meeting. Without any warning, they were both stopped in their tracks as if they had hit a wall. In truth they had, but not a physical wall, rather one of pure mana. "Holy shit, do you feel that?" Irun asked, pressing his hand against the air. "How could I not? I never realized mana could become this dense," Athar replied, poking the translucent wall in front of him.
Come, the Masked One sent to their minds.
The pair lurched forward, and were met with the sight of the Volzuk, the Undergod. Athar, who had already seen him before, wasn't quite as taken aback this time around, though still stunned by the smell of rotting flesh and sulfuric gas. Irun, on the other hand, nearly pissed himself. The loose flaps of skin and exposed bones hither and thither didn't help Irun realize that he was in the presence of a god.
"You have a new slave, I see," Volzuk's voice boomed inside the summoning chamber, the runes on the floor flickering slightly as he spoke. Shit, he's not moving, Athar thought. He grabbed the motionless body of Irun by the nape, kicked his foot out from under him, and forced him to kneel.
"My apologies, Lord of the Underworld. He has not yet been accustomed to your presence," Athar said, trying to keep himself from releasing his bowels as well. "That much is evident, but who is he? Why is he not speaking? I don't even hear any of his thoughts," Volzuk said, peering curiously at Irun. "Great one, he is known as Irun Mothac, once a synner of Codrean, he has since betrayed them and joined our cause," Athar continued.
"I see," Volzuk said unceremoniously. "He's the one who brought you information on the Gwynnleaf's location, mage? Sad that you needed to resort to such tactics, as I'm sure your power would've been more than sufficient to destroy their fortress in the first place," the Undergod continued. The Masked One sucked in a sharp breath, as if he were about to say something, but kept his composure.
"Was that a hint of defiance I felt just now? Mind your thoughts, mage, lest I tear out your core," Volzuk said, not even bothering to acknowledge the situation further.
Tear out his fucking what? Irun finally thought, snapping out of his daze.
"Ah, I was beginning to wonder whether you were just some mindless, reanimated corpse," Volzuk said, hearing his thoughts. "It surprises me to know that your former master did not cut out your tongue with that sort of language, though I'm sure he had his reasons," the Undergod said, giving Irun a questioning glance. "It would seem you think I've made a mistake in choosing this boy," Ardrin finally spoke up, his tone calm and composed.
Athar, knowing both of these two, powerful overlords could hear his thoughts, tried his best to not think, breathe, or say anything at all. "Oh? And what do you suppose would have happened if another had been chosen? Would you still have him under your control after having done so many horrible things towards his former comrades?" Volzuk asked, bending down a little to peer into the Masked One's eye-slits.
The Masked One said nothing in return, merely flicking his head to the side. "Not likely. You needed someone subservient and innocuous, exempting them from any sort of suspicion," the Undergod continued. "You know why I chose him. His proximity to Thoma Fayren was just sufficient enough to not rouse too much suspicion. Thoma, being so close with Irun's former master, was a well of information I couldn't ignore," Ardrin replied.
Irun's thoughts swam with all of this information, trying to process it all at once, but failing miserably. "Regardless of your reasons, we got the information and resources we needed to begin the next phase of our plan," Volzuk said, his brows furrowing in mild frustration. "In any case, we will continue our conversation at a later time. Return to the Underworld when you are done with your… underlings," Volzuk commanded, releasing the summoning spell and leaving a cloud of death and sulfur-smelling smoke in his wake.
Ardrin turned in a fury. "Nothing? You couldn't even say your own name? You made me look like a fool for choosing you, little shit," he said, not even bothering to hide his anger by flaring his mana around him. The palpable aura knocked Irun face first into the ground, breaking his nose.
It's like a royal ochelon is sitting on my back, Irun thought, struggling to breathe under the sudden change in his weight.