Rune Seeker

Hiral stood alone in the absolute darkness, the sheer weight of the nothing around him pressing down from all sides. He was in a dream. He knew he was in a dream… but that didn’t stop his heart from racing. Because, this wasn’t just any dream – it was the nightmare he hadn’t been able to escape since he’d died.

Since he’d been killed. Twice.

Within that darkness, he felt his body fraying at the edges. Degrading. Decaying. Decomposing. He felt the touch of something – hundreds of somethings – crawling across him, nibbling on his skin, and burrowing inside. His organs filled with the bulge of thousands of tiny, newly laid eggs, while his blood and muscles served as nutrients for their growth.

Through it all, he was paralyzed. Everything except for his madly beating heart. Which made no sense. It pounded in his chest – faster and faster – while the rest of him rotted away. And, even all that wasn’t the worst part.

Outside of him – outside of the darkness – the world still turned. Life went on, without him. People worked and played, ate meals and solved puzzles. Things progressed and got worse, while seasons came and went. It was stupid, but the fact he knew others would continue to exist while he… simply… didn’t – it birthed an existential fear deep inside him that wouldn’t let go.

Death was an end, but he didn’t want it to end. It wasn’t like he was scared of dying, but he was terrified of death. Of being dead. Of not being able to continue learning. Testing. Exploding. It didn’t matter.

There in that darkness of nothing, he wanted to be able to do anything.

But he had no body! All that he was had been consumed by time and insects, leaving nothing but his fear of that same nothingness that held him trapped. Even his thoughts were slowing as the darkness crept in from all around, burying him deeper and deeper in the realm of the lost. The forgotten. Even Left and Right wouldn’t be able to save him here. He was alone.

So alone, for the first time since he’d gotten his class and unknowingly first used his Rune of Separation.

That’s right. He hadn’t died. Not yet. Probably. He was here because of a rune. The new one he’d just figured out on those golems.

The Rune of Dreaming.

And if he knew what it was – if he’d exploded – then that meant he had its power now. He was trapped in the dream, but he wasn’t trapped. If the rune was doing this, he could control it. Even with those coherent thoughts, the darkness crushing him receded an inch. Maybe even less, but it spawned a hope like a small candle in the night.

A light Hiral held close and nurtured while his mind pushed through the terror in search of the power of the rune. And, as it often was in normal dreams, the instant he started looking for it, he found it. Nebulous and ever changing, it tried to slip through his fingers, to change itself – or the dream – to wiggle out his grasp.

Hiral’s mind threatened to wander, and he almost let it – anything was better than the nothingness – but he pushed that instinct back. Focused on that strange power that kept trying to slip away in the corner of his vision.

No, Hiral told it, bringing all the will he’d practiced with against the Fiendish Tree to bear. For the moment, the Tree itself appeared within the darkness alongside Hiral, but he ignored it and latched on to the power. Once more it wriggled to escape, and once more Hiral shut it down – just like he had the gravity tears.

Over and over the power struggled to get free – to vanish – and each time Hiral got better at keeping it in place. Seconds turned to minutes during their silent battle, the hazy shape of the power slowly taking on a more solid form. In the background, leaves shook as branches rattled, almost like the dream-tree was cheering him on.

Rah rah, the rustling leaves seemed to say.

Minutes quickly became hours – or at least it felt like it – as Hiral’s fingers interlaced with the dozens of string-like shapes that had emerged from the power. And, then, just like that, he recognized what he was battling.

It was the Rune of Dreaming – of course it was – but not like he’d seen it etched on the golems. This was the true form of the rune – three-dimensional.

With that absolute understanding, the nothingness pressing in on Hiral vanished with a pop, forced away by his need to be out of it, and he was back in the room where it had all started.

“I got out,” he said, breathing out a sigh of relief. Except… except the Fiendish Tree was still standing there beside him. The branches even bounced a little like it was waving at him. “Or… not,” he amended. Which, didn’t make sense. He had control of the dream through the rune now. But, he was still dreaming.

“Ah, you’ve finally awakened. Sort of,” a voice said, and Hiral turned to see a familiar man stepping out of the door across the room. “That particular rune is notoriously difficult to work with, and was very experimental, according to my records. More notably, the fact you’ve managed to master it so quickly means we are – unfortunately – much further along than I’d feared.”

“Dr. Benza?” Hiral asked.

The man looked down at himself – like he was surprised what he saw – then back up at Hiral. “It appears so. Interesting you would give me this form, though I guess it makes sense.”

“That form?” Hiral asked. “Wait, are you…?”

“Stop!” Dr. Benza barked. “Don’t guess. Don’t focus. Don’t even think too deeply, or this dream will be broken.”

“I…”

“Listen. Do only that, for we don’t have long. You will truly awaken soon, now that your mind has started to make sense of things. It can’t be delayed,” Dr. Benza said, his face serious.

“I’m listening,” Hiral said while forcing his mind to stay blank. Even that conscious action made the room shudder. Leaves on the tree – previously vibrant green – yellowed and then began to fall. Within seconds, like a wind had picked up, dozens of leaves were falling, partially obscuring Dr. Benza standing next to the trunk.

“You have – unexpectedly soon – begun tapping into the true power of the runes. My original calculations did not have this occurring for at least another year, or what you call a rotation, if at all. Somehow, you’ve had more of a knack for it than projected, even accounting for the assistance I’ve provided. None before you have made it to this stage. Which brings us to a crossroads. One that may finally decide the fate of this world – and possibly this realm.”

Hiral just nodded to indicate he was listening, but forced his mind to stop forming the dozens of questions it demanded he ask.

“This is the second time I have seen this happen during my existence, but records tell of a third. There may be many more throughout history we will never know about, but they don’t matter now. All that matters is that we continue to exist. To do that, we need to fight. You and your friends need to fight.

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“Understand, the runes are a double-edged sword. They somehow want to be discovered, time and again, and allow the user – you, in this case – to peel back the layers of how reality works. Consequently, the Enemy considers those same runes to be solely theirs, and aggressively seek any who would impinge on their territory. I suspect they’ve been quite successful at that, and the lingering traces of the runes used to build our system in the world is why – I believe now – they remain.

“Constantly hunting.

“What can I…?” Hiral asked, even as a massive crack shook the room, and a split ran up the side of the fiendish tree.

Dr. Benza – or the entity pretending to be the doctor – looked at the tree like it was a clock, quickly gauging how much time was left before the dreamscape shattered. A nod, like he decided on what to say, and he continued.

“If you continue to progress at the speed you have, the Enemy will seek you out more aggressively. They normally live on a scale of time you can’t even comprehend, but your growing connection to the runes will trigger a reaction. One we aren’t prepared for yet. They will move from passively hunting, to more active measures like you saw in the Rise of Fallen Reach. Already, the unexpected awakening of one of the Fallen will provoke them into acting sooner than I would’ve liked.”

This is passive hunting? Hiral’s mind asked, and another crack split the tree.

“Dramatic as it is, the potential fate of the world hangs on your coming actions. Grow stronger as you have, and the Enemy will move before the rest of your allies have a chance to catch up. Delay your growth, and you may stagnate, preventing you from overcoming the immediate threats coming for you, or reaching the strength to do what needs to be done.”

“What needs to be done?” Hiral couldn’t stop his mouth from forming the words. The question seemed too important.

Except, that focus tore at the dream world. Pieces of the ceiling shredded like the building was caught in gale force winds, while the floor shook and bucked, the sound of it forcing Hiral’s hands to his ears. Leaves swirled around and around the room, blocking Hiral’s view of Dr. Benza.

“It’s too soon to tell you, and you don’t need to worry about it anyway,” Dr. Benza said, his voice somehow perfectly clear through the roaring storm. “You’re not strong enough to make a difference yet.”

Another rumble, and the floor split, opening a crevasse between the two. Roots from the Fiendish Tree struggled to hold on, but it wasn’t enough. Tipping while leaves swirled, the falling tree cut off Hiral’s view of the doctor.

“Follow the path I’ve laid out for you. Follow my instructions, and you have a chance of success. The future is within my grasp, and I will not waste this chance,” Dr. Benza said, though as the tree passed, the doctor had vanished, instead replaced by a cloud of solar energy.

And then it was gone. All gone. Darkness descended like a hammer, enveloping Hiral as he…

Sat bolt upright, then instantly recoiled at a pain in his forehead – and a simultaneous yelp.

“Ugh,” he groaned, putting his hand to where he’d impacted something.

“Hiral!” Seena said.

“And that’s why I told you not to get so close, Yan,” Seeyela said flatly at the same time.

“Are you okay?” they both asked.

“I…” Hiral started, but cut off as Yanily interrupted.

“What is your forehead even made of?” the spearman half-groaned, half-shouted. “Is it the tattoo? Owwww…”

“What do you mean?” Hiral asked, hand to his head as he sat up again – slowly. Seena was crouched to his left, while Yanily lay sprawled out on his right. Seeyela – of course – stood with her hands on her hips, looking down at Yanily and just shaking her head.

“He was – as he often is,” Seeyela said. “Uncomfortably close to you. Then you woke up from your little nap and proceeded to headbutt the lightning right out of him.”

“I think I have a concussion,” Yanily said. “Where’s Left? Can his drip fix this? Do you think Wule can heal them yet? Or maybe I need to be undead like Nivian?”

“Death Knights do not get concussions,” Li’l Ur informed Yanily sagely.

“They’re lucky,” Yanily grumbled, but sat up as well, his hand still rubbing a spot on his forehead. “Seriously, Hiral, your head is solid.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” Hiral replied.

“We usually use dense to describe it,” Seeyela piped in. “And just Yanily in general.”

“That’d hurt if I wasn’t already in pain here,” Yanily said flatly to Seeyela.

“Yanily’s woes aside,” Seena said, literally reaching up and grabbing Hiral’s chin to turn his face to look at her. Holding his eyes with her own, she watched him for several quiet seconds. Long enough for Seeyela to cough. “What was that?”

“I exploded?” Hiral asked, realizing his tattoos and Meridian Lines were visible on his Second-Skin of Amin Thett.

“Not… in your usual way,” Seena said slowly. “When you fell over this time, there was this… fog that filled the room.”

“Super creepy fog,” Yanily said. “Like the kind you can run into and never find the other side of. Even if you’re in a small room.”

“And there were things in the fog,” Seeyela said. “I thought I heard voices.”

“We all did,” Seena added. “I even understood some of it. Well, the words, not what they all meant together.”

“They were distorted,” Drahn said. “Some of them sounded like they came from a great distance, while others were right next to me. Echoes and silences. It was very unusual. Even for you.”

“To be fair,” Seeyela interrupted. “You haven’t been around him enough to realize that on the scale of unusual for Hiral, that’s pretty minor.”

“Can you tell us what it was all about?” Seena asked, ignoring the others as her eyes stayed locked on Hiral’s. “Was it a new rune?”

“I think it started with a new rune, but let me get Left and Right out to get their opinions,” Hiral said. “If that really happened, then we have a lot to talk about.”

At that, Seena scooted back a bit, and Hiral activated Foundational Split. Solar smoke peeled off him as usual – though he studied the depths of it for the second it took to solidify into his doubles. The solar energy isn’t the same as what I saw. Close, but not the same.

As soon as Left and Right were whole, they looked at Hiral and grimaced.

“I don’t believe it was a dream,” Left said gravely.

“Me neither,” Right said. “And I’m not thrilled about some of what got said.”

Hiral thought back to the last words that came out of Dr. Benza’s mouth – “Follow the path I’ve laid out for you. Follow my instructions, and you have a chance of success. The future is within my grasp, and I will not waste this chance.”

There it was again, that suggestion his will wasn’t his own. That he was dancing to somebody else’s tune. And that ember of anger in his chest flared, taking hold in a way he knew wouldn’t fade with a few deep breaths and a distraction. Was he any better than the golems in the dungeon, controlled by a will not… their own…?

His mind went back to the first crystal golem he’d met. The one who’d given him his class. Was that golem following its own will? Or something else’s? Was everything that had happened to him planned? Coordinated to put him right where he was now? The Runic Artificer had been the perfect class to save Fallen Reach, and while he was grateful to be able to protect the ones he loved, he’d thought he was the one who’d taken advantage of his abilities. That he had found the solution.

Thinking back, though, was that really the case? He’d been guided where he needed to be. Or, had he been guided where somebody else needed him?

Something else?

“What wasn’t a dream?” Seena asked, once again pulling Hiral out of his own thoughts. He had plenty of questions right now – and a lot of confused anger fueling them – but he needed to put it aside. Just for the moment. He wouldn’t let it falter, but there was something more pressing than his own frustration. The rest of the party needed to know what he’d just seen.

“Where to start?” Hiral mumbled to himself. “Probably at the beginning. Okay,” he took a deep breath and looked at the others. “You may want to get comfortable for this. It’ll take a minute. When I figured out the new rune, I fell into a strange dream. That’s not the important thing here, though. While I was dreaming, somebody – something – came to talk to me.”

“In the dream?” Seena asked. “Who? What?”

“I think it was the PIMP,” Hiral said. “And it had a lot to say.”