Paragon of Destruction

And finally, the mage had remained behind in the Shadow Realm, there to make a last sacrifice that none but Arran would ever know about.

As he considered Karanos’s fate, Arran could not help but wonder if the man’s life would have been happier within the Empire.

It would have been shorter without magic, but more peaceful as well. And although Karanos wouldn’t have accomplished as much without the longevity of magic, he wouldn’t have seen all his achievements fall to ruin, either.

Arran pondered the thought for a few moments, but then, he set it aside. However Karanos might have fared in the Empire, the fact of the matter was that he’d been born in the borderlands.

And in the borderlands, peace was a rare thing.

It took Arran a few minutes to find the three books among Karanos’s meager possessions, and with a quick examination, he confirmed they were the right ones. One held notes on the Shadow Realm, the second described Karanos’s insights into Shadow magic, and the third detailed the history of Amydon.

He left Karanos’s other belongings untouched. Even if it was unlikely that Karanos would ever return to this place, Arran could not bring himself to steal from the man. Not when he had risked — or perhaps already lost — his life trying to protect the world.

Instead, Arran stored the books in his void ring, then began to head back to the portal.

He had only barely stepped out of Karanos’s quarters when he felt a sudden surge of awareness from his sword. It was the first time in two weeks he’d sensed anything from the bond he shared with the weapon, and he felt an immediate sense of alarm.

Ever since passed through the portal, the Living Shadow had lain in slumber, showing not even the slightest sign of being anything other than a simple steel weapon. But now, he felt its alien presence once more, and he recalled the times it had warned him of danger in the Shadow Realm.

Yet after barely a second, he realized that this was no warning. What came from the sword wasn’t alarm but an eager interest, as if it had Sensed something that had roused its curiosity.

Rather than warning Arran of some hidden danger that lay ahead, it was urging him toward a squat building about a hundred paces in the distance.

"You want me to go there?" Arran had drawn the sword, and now he looked at its smooth steel with some suspicion.

There was an immediate response. A pleased feeling came through the bond, which Arran knew to be agreement. The sword might not understand his words, but it had clearly understood his meaning all the same.

Still, he felt some wariness at following the weapon’s guidance. He had not forgotten how ruthless it had been in slaying the arming sword, and now that he had brought it into his own world, he feared it might decide it no longer needed him.

But he could feel no malice through the connection he shared with the weapon, and he knew he would have to build a bond of trust with it sooner or later.

Without that, he would be unable to use the weapon in battle, and it would be all but useless to him.

After giving it a moment’s thought, he decided to follow the sword’s urging. The underground city should be a safe place to test its intentions — safer than most, at least. There were no enemies here, and if there were any hidden dangers, Karanos would surely have warned him of those.

Suppressing his reluctance, Arran began to walk toward the building that had caused his sword to react so eagerly, holding the weapon out in front of him to guide the way.

He stepped inside the building some moments later, and found it just as empty as the rest of the city. The bare stone chambers held bare stone furniture and nothing else, with no sign of any threat or treasure.

Yet the sword’s eagerness only grew stronger, and Arran could almost feel it pull at his arm as it guided him into a small chamber at the back of the building.

This chamber was as empty as the others had been, but when Arran stepped inside, he felt a buzz of excitement come from his sword as it drew him toward one of the walls. And this time, he realized that the pull he felt was all too real.

The sword came to a halt with its point against the wall, indicating a spot that seemed wholly unremarkable to Arran’s eyes.

But then, he Sensed it — a concealment ward within the wall, so faint as to be nearly imperceptible, yet perfectly masking what lay behind it.

Despite his sword’s obvious impatience, Arran spent some minutes examining and memorizing the ward. Although it was very different from the ones he knew, its craftsmanship was immediately obvious, and he would not let such knowledge go to waste.

When he had studied the ward enough to recreate it, he reached forward and destroyed it, using a thin sliver of Essence to sever the pattern.

The ward dissipated in an instant, revealing a large loose stone within the wall. Arran pulled it free, and when he laid eyes upon what was hidden behind it, he felt an immediate rush of excitement.

There were several pieces of fine jewelry, made from a shiny black metal he did not recognize, set with fiery red gemstones. And there was a small pile of coins, too, made from the same black metal as the jewels.

Yet what drew Arran’s attention was something else — four clear crystals, each of them large and shimmering with power.

He knew at once that these were Essence Crystals, but they were unlike any he had ever seen before. They were far larger, and the Essence they held seemed clearer — purer, somehow.

He stored the jewelry and coins in his void ring — from what he could tell, they held no magical properties — then carefully examined the four crystals.

That they were Essence Crystals was undeniable, and that they were far more potent than any Essence Crystals he’d ever seen was equally obvious. Yet although he was tempted to absorb one of the crystals right there, he felt some wariness as well.

The sword, however, had no such qualms. It emanated a strong aura of hunger, and Arran knew it wished to devour the crystals.

A frown briefly crossed his face, but then, he held one of the crystals against the sword. The crystal disappeared in an instant, and a wave of satisfaction came through the bond a moment later — immediately followed by an even stronger aura of hunger.

A second crystal disappeared just as quickly, and this time, the sword radiated pure elation. But again, it lasted only a moment, and the frenzied hunger returned a moment later.

Arran stored the remaining two crystals in his void ring, however, and when he did, the excitement in the sword disappeared in an instant. Now, the feeling it radiated was wholly different — it was frustrated, even angry.

"So you can Sense treasure, can you?"

Arran examined the sword calmly. Whether it was angry or not, he wouldn’t let himself be cowed by his own weapon.

Through the bond, he quickly confirmed that the crystals had indeed been Essence Crystals, albeit far stronger than any he’d seen before. And while they were strong, there was no apparent ill effect on the sword.

The same could not be said for the weapon’s mood, however. Another surge of anger came from the bond, more powerful this time. From the look of it, the weapon seemed intent on devouring the remaining two crystals as well.

"No," Arran said firmly. "I’m keeping the other two." Then, a small smile crossed his face, and he added, "But if there are any others within the city, you’ll get half of whatever we find."

A hesitant feeling came through the bond, but then, a few moments later, Arran felt the familiar pull. It seemed the sword had agreed to his offer.

Some minutes later, in another building, he found another cache of jewelry, coins, and crystals — five, this time.

Once more, he stored the jewelry and coins in his void ring and fed two of the crystals to the sword.

But then, as he wondered how to split the third crystal, a thought came to him. And at once, ignoring the sword’s protests, he sat down on the ground and began to absorb the crystal in his hand.

The Purified Essence within the crystal was even stronger than he had expected — easily as powerful as a thousand normal Essence Crystals, and perhaps even more so. Moreover, it was far purer than even the purest Essence Crystals Arran had used before, lacking any of the small imperfections that were normally present.

While absorbing normal Essence Crystals brought him little benefit, Arran immediately knew that fully absorbing even a single one of these would have a noticeable effect on his affinity to magic.

But instead, he did something else.

Where he would normally make the unbound Essence his own and then absorb it, now, he stopped before the second step. And then, instead of circulating the Essence through his body until he had absorbed it, he sent it into the sword.

As expected, the sword reacted excitedly, eagerly devouring the torrent of Purified Essence. And as it did, Arran felt his bond to the weapon grow stronger.

In the days that followed, Arran scoured the city for any hidden treasure it held, finding over two hundred Essence Crystals scattered across numerous hidden caches.

And each time they found another treasure, Arran stored half the crystals in his void bag, then fed the other half to his weapon — but not before binding the Essence to himself.

The sword did not appear to have any objections to this. It seemed that as long as it got fed, it was happy. And with the crystals’ Essence bound to Arran, the bond between him and his weapon rapidly grew far stronger than it had been before.

After a single day, he could already vaguely feel what his weapon was Sensing, and he was shocked to find just how sharp its Sense was. Even after untold years in the Shadow Realm, his own still paled in comparison.

Equally surprising was the weapon’s consciousness. While he could now feel hints of its intelligence, he also understood just how alien its consciousness was to its own.

Controlling it would be a difficult task, he knew, but the more he felt of its strength, the more he began to realize just how powerful a treasure the weapon truly was.

And if he could make that power his own, there would be few with the strength to resist it.