Bab 107: Reward
The last time he'd been in this grand hall, Lucian was shocked at it's size. The roof was as tall as the sky and the room's walls were so distant he needed to circulate power to reach the other end in seconds.
Yet now, beneath the faint light of a single candle, he could barely make out walls not too distant from the center of the room. Perhaps the hall now was no larger than those back in the Clarke Estate.
He did not consider this point for long, however. Even as his eyes readjusted from the omnipresent light he'd grown so used to in the labyrinth, he stared at that candle in the center of the hall, and at the man holding it.
With slow steps forward, he probed the hall for hidden threats. He could sense nothing living or undead within but did take note of a variety of marble pillars that had not existed in the larger version of this hall.
Even as his lifesense was sweeping about, his eyes remained glued on the man in the center of the hall.
He was a tall and skinny man, even anorexic looking, but his features were completely obscured. He seemed no more than a black silhouette.
'No sign of life.'
"Who are you?" Lucian demanded flatly, and the silhouette moved. The thin man bent down, lowering the plate which held the only candle onto the ground in slow and methodical movements.
The lower the man bent, the taller and thinner he seemed, his features still shrouded by darkness.
"Did you hear me?" The man's actions were too unhurried, and Lucian was struggling to gauge the distance between them.
He picked up the pace of his stride, trying to close in on the figure while gathering blood beneath the skin to form armor and weapons at a moment's notice. The man straightened slowly, in movements so smooth and unhurried that they appeared unsettling with his tall and thin frame, and Lucian's eyes went wide
Tall could not begin to describe the fellow. Though his features were completely obscured, appearing only as a silhouette, he was so much taller than Lucian had expected, and impossibly skinny.
'A silhouette? But he is standing behind the candle.'
Hairs stood on end as a sense of wrongness crept into his mind. The kind of wrongness one feels when witnessing something the subconscious knows is not normal or possible.
'Why does he have no features?'
The tall man reached a hand for Lucian almost invitingly, and as it elongated to an impossible degree, Lucian went with his gut and conjured a long arm, the poleaxe, delivering a sweeping chop at the man, hoping to force answers from his response.
But his weapon cut nothing. The man was not there. It was not even a man to begin with, but a shadow on the distant wall, cast by the lopsided burning of the candle and made to look so close only by a trick of the light.
Yet as it's hand still gestured as if reaching for him, Lucian felt it's pointed, claw-like fingertip touch his chest.
With a start, he shot backward, sweeping his poleaxe in front of himself once more and again cutting nothing.
The sensation of a clawed finger pressing against his chest remained no matter the distance he put between himself and that distant wall, cold to the touch in a way temperature could not describe.
"Enough!" He roared, as the Light of Dusk flared in his open left palm, filling the room with white light in an instant. So overpowering was the light cast from his hand that the lit candle looked extinguished under its presence, and the shadow man vanished completely.
But the Light of Dusk was harsh, and long black shadows loomed behind the pillars that somehow seemed more numerous now.
"I'm not here to play games with you. Show yourself!" Despite his words, he held little hope that the Daoist behind the shadow man would show himself. Or was it a Daoist at all? This was a strange place within The Maelstrom, a place where time and space could be whatever was needed to test every comer.
The Light of Dusk flickered in his hand, growing unstable as his control of it reached its limit.
And when it vanished, darkness replaced it, and the shadow man returned.
It reached for him once more, still a two dimensional being bound to the distant wall, still reaching beyond itself in ways Lucian could not understand. It's flat image mimicked depth as it's body blurred and the hand reached further than would be possible with real anatomy, and once again he felt clawed fingers press against his chest.
Pressing hard.
Recoiling from the touch, he almost conjured the Light of Dusk on instinct, but suppressed his unease and saved the energy. Instead, it was a golden fire that erupted in his left hand. He hoped that by putting light between he and the shadow man, it could not reach him, but was swiftly proven wrong.
The clawed fingers pushed harder, contesting his steel-like body until almost drawing blood when Lucian turned his head to gauge the surroundings for clues or opportunities.
The claws vanished.
'What?'
His head spun back to the shadow man, and the sensation of cold claws was felt again, this time actually drawing blood as they pressed harder than ever.
'Is it…?!' He turned to put the shadow man out of sight, and the sensation vanished.
'It's perception! He gets you through perception!'
With that it would be easy he thought. Shifting his gaze, he tried to look elsewhere, but everywhere he looked held shadows. And wherever there were shadows, the man appeared.
Left, right, up. Eventually, he looked down and conjured a ring of golden fire to rid the floor below him of shadows.
And then he waited.
One second, another, another still. Nothing happened. For a moment, he flicked his gaze up to the shadows and was horrified by the sight of dozens of shadow men, standing, waiting for him. He knew they must be on the walls and floors, but they looked so close, like they were standing just outside the small ring of fire.
His eyes flicked back down to the ground before they could strike.
'I cant just sit here like a coward and wait forever. I need to find a way out.' His lifesense still did not detect the shadow men. But there were doors. Two sets of closed doors within the hall, neither of which he had entered through.
'Release the light.' A stray thought fluttered through his mind.
'Lower your walls, and face it'
The thought stood out in his mind. It was not too different from other, similar thoughts floating about, but there was an intent in it that clearly labeled it different.
It was not his.
'Do not cower. Face it, conquer it.'
The image of a forest at night flickered in Lucian's mind, of men and women huddled around a campfire, burning resources to seek refuge from the dark.
'Do not cower.'
Of grand walls separating men from the dark.
'Face it.'
Of the things that lurked in the dark, free and unbound.
'Conquer it.'
Not his thoughts. Shaking his head, Lucian focused, and the golden fires that had dimmed to small tongues of flame burnt brightly once more.
'Easy to say, but how?' He thought in exasperation. The labyrinth had never projected stray thoughts onto him, and that gave him an idea. Perhaps this wasn't a trial. Perhaps it was something far more important.
His eyes flicked up again and an army of featureless shadow men could be seen.
Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, he let the fires go, and darkness reigned.
Only the lopsided candle in the center of the room still gave light, and at the edge of the hall, Lucian was met with battle.
Spears stabbed at him and sabres cut him, but he could not defend. No matter where he looked, he would see a two-dimensional shadow on the distant walls, cast by pillars or the lopsided half of the torch. And so long as he could see them, they could mimic reality and act beyond their own dimensions.
Like a flat image drawn to impersonate a man stabbing at the viewer, but the stabs were as real as any other, and Lucian received two cuts and a puncture before his heavy bloodplate armor could manifest.
'Stop fearing. Let it go'
The stray thought echoed once more. He thought he knew the intent of the thought, what it meant by its words, but didn't dare consider it as he desperately defended from the impossible attacks.
He tried throwing fire about to disperse the shadows, but every time he did he simply created more. The golden fire was not enough to purge the world of shadows. Perhaps with the Light of dawn he could, but for how long?
'Accept it. Lay down your handicap.'
He looked down once more, conjuring a small fire in his hand and refusing to look at those shadows any longer.
"What do you mean?" He called with no small amount of anger.
"What handicap?"
'You cower in ignorance. You are exposed.'
A piercing pain ran through his chest, as if a spear had passed through him completely, but his armor was fine, his skin unbroken, and blood unshed.
A long, gruesome cut ran down his back, but he was sure there was nothing there.
Spinning his head, his eyes blazed angrily with a hint of worry. They shouldn't be able to harm him if he doesn't look at them. If he doesn't look, they are bound to the walls! So what was…
Then he saw it.
His own shadow, bound to the walls, stabbed and cut at by the surrounding shadow men. Defenseless while he stared at the ground and hid.
Another spear was being stabbed at his shadow on the wall, and in reaction, he tried to defend himself. There was nothing to defend himself against, no attacker existed in his dimension, but as he raised his poleaxe in a defensive manner, so too did his shadow on the wall.
For a moment, he thought he could hear the clashing of steel as his shadow defended against the other.
'So that's it.' If I Look at them, they can act beyond themselves, cut me directly. But even if I don't, they can strike my shadow.'
Watching the shadows on the wall, he began to dance a solitary storm of movements, trying to make his shadow defend against the others.
'Wrong.' The stray thought entered his mind so unannounced he almost missed a step in his performance.
'Wrong. You still cling to your ways. Let go.'
He fought on still.
'Let go.'
The shadows never died or ended, it was a constant onslaught, and Lucian was sure he would fail to defend against it forever.
'Let go.'
He grit his teeth in hesitation.
For a minute longer he continued to fight on, hesitating, until finally, he did it. With a pinch of his will, the candle extinguished, and he closed his eyes.
Complete darkness. No light, no distinction between the world of shadows and reality. Things moved in the darkness, but he no longer worried for his shadow's safety. He was his shadow now.
'Reach for it.'
Letting the thoughts guide him, Lucian reached for his surroundings, for the world of shadows. It was a strange experience, similar in a way to his perception of the planes back in the Valley of Mist, but distinctly different.
He was standing in reality, but the darkness, the absence of light, acted as something akin to a window or a door. Like the other side of a mirror, he felt the presence of the world of shadow, and with a sudden reversal of his surroundings, he was there. Here, nothing could be seen with the eyes, and yet he could see it all. There was no light and no color, but he knew his surroundings.
Knew the man that stood ahead of him. A single will inhabiting the world of shadow here, the same will that had manifest so many shadow men prior, the same will that had projected thoughts to his mind.
'Welcome. You finally let go.'
The man was no longer featureless, but his face was distorted, and cracks ran through his frame. Consternation filled Lucian's eyes as he looked at the man and the inviting hand stretched out in his direction.
This was a man who had died in The Maelstrom. A broken soul and fragmented will, pieced together with the intent of The Maelstrom, left only with memories deemed important. A man once, nothing but a horrific memory now, an inheritance pieced together from what remained of the man after his death.
'Come, accept it.'
Lucian stepped forward through the world of shadow and took the hand of the broken soul.
Immediately a flood of information racked his brain, techniques, methods, broken knowledge, and fragmented comprehension. The broken soul made a pained face as if screaming out, but no sound emerged from its lips as it fell apart piece by piece, like broken glass, until only Lucian was left standing.
He was right. This place was not a trial. It was his reward for passing the labyrinth, an inheritance of one who died here.
Wanting to leave this place, the world of shadows reversed again and he found himself back in reality. The hall was still shrouded in dark, but even without his lifesense, he knew his surroundings.
The Shadowwalker art had been planted within him, all he needed now was to accept it, and cultivate it. But it was not the art that caught his thoughts.
'That man. That broken soul.'
His face was a grimace.
'I'll be damned if I let this place make me into one of its legacies.'
Striding forward, the two large doors opened wide by themselves, one to the outside world, to the seas where the wind blew and the sun blazed. The other, to a mountain valley with red skies, and three sets of stone stairs.
Needless to say, he never looked at the former.
Hadiah
-- Hadiah diterima Status Power Mingguan
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Power 
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