17 – Crimson Star

Victor had a long, pleasant visit with Tes, and when he woke the next day, he returned to his spirit space with new enthusiasm. As she’d suggested, he cleared his mantle and, with a notebook in hand, began to map the framework with the quasi-magical notation he’d learned for the creation of elder magic spell patterns. It was a laborious process, and as he worked, he let his mind wander, often wondering about frameworks, their relation to elder magic, and whether or not everyone’s was unique.

Was a framework impacted by one’s life, or was it a reflection of their fundamental nature, like DNA? Would someone like him, who’d experienced significant challenges and fought for his levels, have a different sort of framework on which to build his mantle than someone who gained levels through scholarly pursuits? Of course, he couldn’t know. He figured Tes would tell him whatever she knew the next time they spoke, but it seemed other veil walkers were very cagey about their discoveries in the tiers beyond the iron ranks.

Whether or not his framework was unique, Victor found it to be a convoluted structure that only very slowly took on a comprehensible shape as he drew out each prong, each hook, each arm, swoop, and curve. Eventually, just as Tes had suggested, he started to recognize shapes that were reminiscent of the elder magic patterns he’d learned. He began to see how he could run a thread from one hook to another and another, continuing until it was, indeed, twisted into a pattern that might very well function as a spell if he did the same with Energy. How would such a thing affect his mantle?

Of course, just seeing the potential was a long way from being able to craft a legendary or mythic mantle: he had to experiment to learn what those many patterns would do, and worse yet, he had to do so with countless different threads. So, as he finally finished the last page of his framework mapping, he determined to do what Tes had suggested. He’d start his work with a sturdy base—a twisted braid of three threads that gave him an advanced mantle. From there, he’d weave other threads into the elder patterns and try to influence it, pushing it toward epic and beyond.

He chose a combination of threads that he’d already worked out in the days prior to his meeting with Tes, and when he pulled the threadlock, the System confirmed he’d done what he’d wanted:

***Congratulations! You’ve formed a new mantle: The Sovereign Spark – Advanced. Fury kindled it, hope guided it, and glory gave it voice. This mantle stirs the hearts of allies and casts long shadows over your foes. It radiates the conviction of one who refuses to follow, drawing strength from purpose, pride, and the promise of triumph.***

He liked that one for a base, at least for the moment, because it seemed to capture many aspects of his nature that he was comfortable with—aspects that he could see himself cultivating. So, with a solid foundation in place, Victor pulled a thread from his skein that represented a triumphant moment for him, both in terms of accomplishment and defining his character.

The thread was red, but it had a lustrous, almost metallic sheen that he found beautiful. When he touched it, the memory came rushing back, and he had to work hard not to let it overwhelm him. It represented his battle with Rellia in the arena back on Fanwath—or more precisely, the moment when he was nearly dead and Lifedrinker gave her Energy to him, granting him the strength he needed to Berserk and win.

The rage was visceral, but so was the love he’d felt from and for Lifedrinker. And the memory didn’t end with victory; it carried on to the moment he spared Rellia. He’d been too overcome by Lifedrinker’s sacrifice—too full of her love—to kill Rellia as she lay helpless. More than that, the noblewoman had reminded him of Yrella, and his heart had overflowed with pity. Looking back, he could see how his mercy might have been foolish; some might curse and decry his tenderheartedness. But he’d done what he’d done, and that memory had carved out part of his spirit in its shape. He had no regrets.

So, Victor took that thread and brought it over to the framework, where he meticulously worked it through a long, winding, elder magic pattern over the course of hours that bled into days. He had no idea what it would do or why he chose that pattern over another, but he liked the shape of it. It reminded him a little bit of his Core Domain spell, but it was even more complicated.

He constructed the pattern so that the final connection, the final stretch of thread, would bring it into contact with the violet-hued braid that made up his current mantle. He figured that, if he was trying to expand the mantle—build on it—it made sense to ensure that each addition made contact with that original one.

He was loosely aware of the time slipping by. He knew he was missing his appointments to train his troops and confer with Kris about the logistics of their budding community, but he also knew that his people would see that he was meditating. They’d understand that he was busy when he didn’t respond to their voices. It should be obvious to them that he wasn’t dead or gone, so he didn’t think they’d worry too much. If something important happened, his raven would let him know.

When he finally made that final connection with the metallic crimson thread, he stood back and looked at his work. The center of his framework held the initial braid, but the left, upper eighth of the framework was nearly filled with the long, winding construct he’d made with the crimson thread. It was like a spider’s web, but even more complicated—hollow whorls, spires, loops, and hundreds of other connections bent it around until it began to resemble something almost like a galaxy mapped out with a glowing red line.

Recognizing how much effort he’d put into it, Victor felt a little nervous for the first time as he reached for the threadlock and gingerly pulled it into place.

***Congratulations! You’ve advanced your mantle: The Sovereign Spark has become The Crimson Star – Epic. This mantle was born in fire, tempered by mercy, and forged in triumph. It radiates a magnetic presence that stirs the wills of allies and unsettles the hearts of enemies. Fueled by memories of blood and grace, it empowers your aura with the paradox of mercy in wrath and restraint in victory. You are no mere conqueror—you are the one who decides who rises, and who falls.***

Victor stood staring at the message for several long minutes, his mind racing with the implications. Could he really have created an epic-tier mantle already? Hadn’t he heard of steel seekers frustrated at their failure to do so for decades? Centuries? Was his success due to his refusal of the System’s aid? Would it have led him down a safer, steadier path of basic to improved to advanced to epic? How long would it have strung him along that path? How many travails had he skipped by employing elder magic?

That last question got him wondering about the pattern he’d made. Was it dumb luck? Had he been inspired by his domain? If inspiration could make such a difference, wouldn’t other steel seekers pay whatever price they needed to get some of their own? How, though? A spirit caster couldn’t come into their spirit space with them… Could there be an inspiration potion? Victor recognized that his thoughts were spiraling, so he tried to refocus.

He thought again about what Tes had told him: simply making an epic mantle wouldn’t propel him into veil walker status. He needed to gain power—a nebulous term if ever there was one—until he began to glimpse the veil, whatever it was. Supposedly, he’d know how to get to it when he was ready. That said, it wasn’t like he’d suddenly finished his steel ranks by crafting this mantle. No, it was more like he’d moved himself steadily along the road.

Looking at the framework, he already had ideas for improving it. Another few threads, woven through the right elder magic patterns, would undoubtedly add to its complexity; would it also increase the potency, though? He wanted to try, but felt he’d been at it long enough. He needed a break, and his people needed checking in on.

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The big question was whether he ought to keep the threadlock in place. If he understood things correctly, his collected Energy would apply to that mantle if he left the spirit space without unlocking the lever. He glanced over to his Energy-well, staring into the bright, swirling vortex. He’d need his strength to face Fausto, wouldn’t he? The mantle was epic—there was no sense hoarding all that Energy.

As he thought about it, Victor frowned, rubbing his chin. Would future Energy also be applied to the mantle? It seemed it would. He wouldn’t be able to collect a pool of it again unless he unlocked the frame and removed the mantle. Did he care? As he contemplated things, he decided he didn’t. There wasn’t any great need to hoard Energy. He’d just remove the mantle if he found it wasn’t right for him. “Besides,” he muttered, “I’ll be improving it soon, anyway.”

With that, he stepped out of his spirit space and almost immediately exploded with a surge of Energy. It was close to the same feeling he’d had the last time he’d gained some levels—it included part of his award from the steel seekers on Ruhn, everything he’d gained from slaying Dro Vah, the dragon, and all of his kills thus far on Dark Ember. More than that, every little System award was in that pool. It was enough to blind his senses and lift him off the ground, glowing like a miniature sun as though he were trying to compete with the orb of hope-attuned light hovering over the keep.

When it was over, and he slowly floated down to rest on his tower-top’s carpet again, Victor was surprised to see several System messages awaiting him:

***Congratulations! You have advanced to level 101. Because of your current mantle, you’ve been awarded 20 strength and 20 will. Your feats have awarded you an additional 5 vitality. Finally, you’ve been awarded 20 unallocated attribute points.***

***Congratulations! You have advanced to level 102. Because of your current mantle, you’ve been awarded 20 strength and 20 will. Your feats have awarded you an additional 5 vitality. Finally, you’ve been awarded 20 unallocated attribute points.***

***Congratulations! You have advanced to level 103. Because of your current mantle, you’ve been awarded 20 strength and 20 will. Your feats have awarded you an additional 5 vitality. Finally, you’ve been awarded 20 unallocated attribute points.***

***Congratulations! You have advanced to level 104. Because of your current mantle, you’ve been awarded 20 strength and 20 will. Your feats have awarded you an additional 5 vitality. Finally, you’ve been awarded 20 unallocated attribute points.***

***Congratulations! You have advanced to level 105. Because of your current mantle, you’ve been awarded 20 strength and 20 will. Your feats have awarded you an additional 5 vitality. Finally, you’ve been awarded 20 unallocated attribute points.***

Victor contemplated the messages for a few minutes, wondering about their peculiar nature. In the past, when he’d gained more than one level, the System had simply lumped them all together. Why was it giving him five separate, but identical, messages? It also didn’t separate his five vitality for his Greater Titanic Constitution in the past; it would just add it to the list of attributes he’d gained.

It was all weird and different enough to make him wonder if he was living under a new set of rules now that he was a steel seeker. It almost made him think the System governing steel seekers was…separate somehow. Could the System be divided? Or—he cursed at the idea—maybe it had to do with the fact that he was way the hell across the universe from where he’d been. Was the System different based on location?

It was definitely food for thought, but so were the numbers still clouding up his vision. His new mantle had afforded him a generous amount of attribute points—more than he’d been getting from even his most recent, most powerful class. “And it’s only epic,” he mused, wondering if the numbers would improve with legendary status. “Or even mythic if I could pull it off.”

As for his hundred free points, he had a fairly good idea where he ought to put them. If he put them into intelligence, not only would he reap the benefits in quicker thinking, a bigger Energy pool, and all the other subtle little enhancements improved intellect would provide, but he’d also be able to apply forty percent of that number to both his agility and dexterity thanks to his Peerless Warborn Mind feat.

Of course, will was also valuable in the same way, thanks to the Sovereign Will ability, but his will was already more than double his intelligence. He felt he’d feel it more if he put the points into the latter. He couldn’t see how having a hundred unspent points was helping him, so he went ahead and applied them. That done, he took a look at his new attribute points:

“Not too bad,” he said with a grin. The smile faded, though, when he thought about the five levels he’d just earned and realized he’d gained nothing but those attribute points. “No feats, no skills, no spells,” he grunted.

He supposed it made a kind of sense. He was a steel seeker now, and he’d told the System he didn’t want help. If he wanted new skills or spells, he needed to figure out how to make them himself. Spells were easy; given enough time, he could craft just about any kind with his elder magic. What about skills, however? Feats? Something told him they had to do with his skein and the framework.

It all boiled down to the fact that he might have created an epic mantle, but it was far from complete. He needed to experiment some more. He needed to weave more threads into it, and in doing so, hopefully fill out the less-than-perfect aspects. “Later.”

He stood up and walked to the parapet of his tower, looking down into the courtyard. It looked like it was late evening, but there were still lots of activities taking place; the castle had become a busy place. Troops were training in the courtyard and drilling out on the fields, taking advantage of the bright light that hung perpetually over the keep. He stood there and observed for a while, and when his eyes fell on Kris, standing near the keep’s main entrance, he used Tactical Reposition to send himself close to the man.

He appeared behind him, and Victor cleared his throat, trying not to startle him too much, but it didn’t matter; Kris nearly jumped out of his skin. “Milord!” he finally managed to stammer out.

“Kris. How are things going? I know I’ve been unavailable for a couple of days.”

“Very good, milord. I tried to get your attention, but it seemed you were deep in your meditations.”

“What were you wanting to speak about?”

“The soldiers. We had another successful raid, and Captains Tasya and Timmet were eager to send forth another selection of squads. When you didn’t stir, they went ahead and did so. I hope that’s all right.”

Victor nodded. “It’s perfect. My coyotes went with the new units?”

“Your hounds? Yes, milord. They seemed to know what we intended. They ran off with the new squads, in any case.”

Victor nodded, giving the man a good once-over. He looked good. His clothes were clean, and he’d even gotten new boots. “How are the supplies? People seem well-fed, and I haven’t had to break out any further provisions.”

“Very good, milord. Now that tributes aren’t going north, the village folk find themselves with a surplus, and they come to market here to trade for Energy beads. The soldiers are eager to spend, and I’ve used a portion of your operating budget—as you suggested—to make purchases for the keep and military.”

“Good. We’ll be able to start earning a lot more easily when I take the city.”

“When…” He coughed, looking to the side. “Ahem, apologies, milord, but do you mind my asking when you might make your move against Fausto?”

“I was hoping to draw him out with our troops' harassment of his vampires. I figured it might take a little while, but…” Victor looked inward to his Core, admiring the brightness of it and the strength he felt radiating from his spirit. He was already much stronger than when he killed Dro Vah on Ruhn and then faced that veil walker woman, Wesper. Even then, she hadn’t been able to kill him outright.

There was a good chance she’d had a lot more unrevealed power, and just as good a chance that she wasn’t particularly strong for a veil walker, but who was to say Fausto was any stronger? Then again, who was to say he wasn’t? No, regardless of how he tried to sell it to himself, his battle with Fausto would be risky. Still, if he wanted to start making real progress on his mission to liberate Dark Ember and face Xelhuan, he’d have to make the move sooner or later.

“Ahem. But, milord?”

“But maybe I’ll attack sooner than I’d planned. I’ll want the army better prepared—more soldiers, better armor and weapons, and more levels. I want them to be able to stand on their own against any troops Fausto sends forth from the city, because I intend to hunt the vampire down. So, in the meantime, we need to step up our efforts with the hunting parties going north. Send me Tasya and Timmet. I’ll be atop my tower.”

“Immediately, milord!” Kris bowed and turned, hurrying into the keep, and Victor jumped back up to the top of his tower. He had some ideas for increasing the patrolling squad numbers beyond the five he could protect with his coyotes, and, after reviewing them with his captains, he had some experimenting to do with his framework.