The Years of Apocalypse - A Time Loop Progression Fantasy

Turning her back on the greater horror took effort. It was large and vicious, and her mind could picture all sorts of ways it could mutilate her. When she heard its horrible hissing scream, it took a lot of effort not to turn to face it again. She just had to trust that the team would handle it. Professor Viridian had never mentioned them in his class, so she wasn’t at all sure how to go about even fighting one. Beatrice, Grimald and Cediri were the experts; she’d make sure their backs were covered.

The labyrinthine horrors coming from behind had thinned out, though. Mirian was finding it easy to pick them off; unlike human opponents, they didn’t try to take cover, and they certainly weren’t shooting back with spells or firearms. She kept glancing back to see how the battle behind her was going.

Grimald was swinging his warhammer around, but the greater horror was keeping its distance and only attacking with its spined tendrils. He was trying to strike moving whips, and so his hammer kept hitting air, and Cediri’s force aegis spell was taking a beating. The venom coating the tendrils seemed to be eroding the spell, causing cracks of light to appear on what should have been a barrier of pure force.

The tendrils of the beast were glowing, too. Mirian realized she was witnessing what Arenthia had termed ‘soul redistribution,’ something she knew Akanan auramancers did, but that she hadn’t realized myrvites could do. That meant the beast knew it was fighting arcane magic, and was using a trick of soul resistance to cut into their spells. Beatrice was sending out rays of fire, but the greater horror didn’t even seem to notice as the beams scored its carapace.

Mirian finished incinerating three more lesser horrors. No more came through the door.

She turned again to see how the others were doing. Grimald was breathing hard, sweat drenching his brow. Cediri’s shield was cracking apart, and the mage was struggling to hold it.

The creature must have sensed the weakness, because it charged forward, body slamming into Grimald so that he was flung back like a doll. Cediri’s aegis shattered and he let out a yelp, clutching his head and stumbling backward, trying to recover from the shock of having a spell broken.

Beatrice let out a blade wall spell, trying to force the beast back and cut the tendrils, but the writhing whips intensified their glow as the force blades failed to cut them.

Then those tendrils descended on Beatrice, coiling around her right leg and torso, snatching her up into the air. Beatrice didn’t scream, she just tried to let off another spell, but if the venom could crack open spells, it was probably stripping her aura bare, so nothing happened.

Then the eyeball-encrusted torso of the beast cracked open down the middle, revealing rows and rows of spiny teeth.

A jolt of fear ran through Mirian, and it overwhelmed her. The rational part of her brain knew this wouldn’t be permanent, that even if the greater horror ate Beatrice, she’d see her again, but the instinctual part just saw her best friend’s sister about to go to her gruesome death. Suddenly, her entire body was suffused with single-minded purpose. She didn’t even remember turning to her greater lightning page, didn’t remember thinking about the shaper glyphs or the intensify enhancement glyphs, and didn’t remember ending her light spell so that she could draw more mana. She didn’t remember moving past a stunned Grimald and Cediri as she stepped right up to the labyrinthine horror. She only knew that she was screaming “Beatrice!” and channeling every ounce of mana she had into her spell.

The lightning bolt erupted from her raised hand like a solid cylinder of electricity, roaring through the air so that it eclipsed every other sound. The shadows on the wall danced madly with its light as it slammed directly into the spiny mouth of the beast.

The horror reared back, tendrils suddenly flailing in all directions, falling back onto its rear legs. Maybe it screamed, but she would have never heard it. Maybe it tried to close its mouth, but was paralyzed by the electricity. For Mirian, there was just her, the spell, and the target. She could feel it concentrating its spell resistance in its torso now. She fed more mana into the intensify runes, and felt her aura sweeping around her like a whirlpool as it sped into her spellbook, then out her hand.

The beast stumbled back, letting go of Beatrice so that she crumpled to the ground. Mirian walked forward as the beast retreated, keeping the beam of lightning steady on it.

Then was a ripping sound as carapace all over its abdomen split apart, erupting with flames. Some sort of black tarry substance gushed out of it, and this time she did hear the beast scream, but she shouted right back at it. Then it shuddered once more and collapsed onto the ground, body hissing as smoke coiled around it, then was still.

Mirian let the spell go, then gasped for breath. Her whole body was trembling with adrenaline.

She turned, and saw that all three of her companions were lying on the ground staring at her.

“Who are you?” Beatrice finally said. “How do you know me?”

Mirian looked at her and felt a pang of sorrow. There was no hiding that she did know Beatrice, the way she’d shouted her name. “I can’t tell you. For both our sakes. I need to know Frostland’s Gate is safe, first.”

Cediri let out a hysterical laugh. “Safe? What in the five hells do you mean? And if you can do that—!”

Grimald muttered, “Pull yourself together.” He stood and started dusting himself off.

“I mean safe from Akanan spies. Safe from Deeps agents. Safe from impostors and corrupt officials who might be lurking in the shadows. I can’t hide that I’m not who I seem, but I’d ask that you keep my secret.”

Beatrice stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Torrviol is currently infested with dozens of Akanan spies, and a turncoat Deeps agent who killed her cell. The guards have all been bribed. Whatever conspiracy they’re part of extends through Cairnmouth all the way to Palendurio—at least—and across the Rift Sea to Akana. I need to make sure that conspiracy isn’t here, too, or someone… might come hunting for me.”

“Lily—!” Beatrice started, but Mirian said, “This doesn’t end until your sister’s safe. I’ve already promised that.” Which was true, but not in the way they thought. “Have you heard of a man going by the name ‘Sulvorath’? Perhaps promising gold for information?”

“No,” said Grimald, then Cediri echoed the same answer.

“If you do, let me know, and I’ll beat whatever his price is for information. The same is true for any of the royal agencies. They can’t be trusted. They’re being manipulated.”

“Why?” Beatrice asked. “What’s happening?”

“An… impending disaster. I’m trying to stop it. Save as many lives as I can. But I need more information.”

“On the leylines?”

“That, and the Labyrinth. The problem isn’t going to be solved by our current understanding of magic. I need to break new ground. So as I said in the tavern, I’d appreciate any help you can give me.” She sighed. “Let’s keep heading to the surface. I can’t manage that again if there’s another one of those things down here.”

“Yeah, let’s get out of here. That was way too close a call,” Cediri said. “I just want quick samples of the greater horror. If we leave it here, it’ll be gone by the time anyone returns. Elsadorra will buy them if no one else does.”

“Those tendrils sapped most of my mana,” Beatrice admitted.

“Then let’s go,” Grimald said.

Mirian helped Cediri load up two vials with the black ichor, then stuffed one of the packs with other pieces of it. Then they left.

***

It was Cediri who found her the next day, after they’d made it back to the surface and had time to rest. She was in her room when he knocked. “May I come in?” he asked. “Business proposition. Wow, you’ve really warded up the place.”

“Sure,” Mirian said. Cediri took off his cloak and hung it on a peg by the door. They sat across from each other, a small wooden table between them. She was silent while she waited for his offer.

Cediri glanced back at her workshop, then said, “Beatrice still doesn’t trust you, but mostly because she doesn’t know what to make of you. I think if you wished us harm, you had the perfect opportunity. And you seem like the type that can keep a secret. So I’m willing to trade for information.”

“Coin?”

“Or things that can be easily translated into coin. Distilled magichemicals. Myrvite parts. I’m not too picky, but I would like to retire in a few years.”

Cediri’s behavior the past few days clicked into place for Mirian. “You’re Ravantha’s contact up here,” she said.

Cediri’s eyes went wide, and his mouth opened and closed like a fish’s for a moment. “I work at the Great Cairn Academy. I need the myrvite parts for the studies, and I get a bonus for good work.”

“And sometimes the parts go missing? Listen, I don’t actually care. She actually recommended I go up here because Numo wants to try his antimagic device, and you’re the best bet the Syndicate has for finding the material that will make it actually work. So that’s two things I want from you. Sounds like you could charge a real premium.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “You’re way to blase about money, you know that? Makes a man worry.”

“When you get enough of it, you stop worrying,” Mirian said.

“Absolutely false. Getting more of it just means you worry more. I once met a business magnate from the Palamas family. All his factories were bringing in record profits, and he has the backing of his uncle, the Gods’ damned King. Yet I’ve never seen a man who fret more about coin. Kept talking about all the people that were coming for him—the Allards, the legislature, the proles, the Mercanton industrialists, even his aunts—all circling him like vultures.”

“That’s stupid,” Mirian said.

“Sure, but just because it’s stupid doesn’t mean it’s not true.” He tapped a finger on the table. “First thing’s first. Tradition in Frostland’s Gate is that you always offer tea to guests. Clearly, you don’t have any.”

“I’ll remember that next time.”

“Second, I can tell you about basically everyone in town, but more importantly, I do watch the soldiers, and I know who can be bribed and who can’t be. And I watch the couriers, and I know the merchants. Since you saved my life, I’m not even going to drive a hard bargain.”

Mirian slid him a gold doubloon. “Tell me everything,” she said.

Cediri gave a short laugh. “Well, you really do know the way to a man’s heart. Let’s begin!”

***

Mirian spent her time checking over the information Cediri had given her while the group recovered. Grimald had been cut up badly, and the priest who healed him seemed to have taken from his own soul energy, making him lethargic and tired for three full days. Which seemed stupid to Mirian; she thought about offering to help build the local priest a soul-repository. They certainly butchered enough woolly pigs and yaks that it could stay charged. Or maybe he had one, and just hadn’t bothered to use it, which reeked of incompetence.

Beatrice had gotten a nasty blow when the greater horror had dropped her, but only took two days to recover after her healing. When questioned about it at the tavern, she just told everyone, “It was a hell of a fight,” which scared the crap out of her audience because they knew that she usually liked to joke about her fights the minute they were done.

Elsadorra was happy to buy the labyrinthine horror pieces they’d brought up, and told them she’d let them know what she discovered. The team was heavily reliant on her as a material science expert.

Cediri eventually convinced Beatrice to let Mirian take a peek at their research notes. Cediri’s notes were meticulous and organized. Beatrice’s notes were as sloppy and chaotic as Lily’s, which made Mirian smile.

Mirian managed to telekinetically place her eavesdropping device in several different places. First, inside the Royal Courier’s office, taking advantage of an uncharged ward by the second story window. Then, she moved it to the inside of the soldier’s barracks, which was embarrassingly under-protected, and was immediately disgusted by how many rude sexual jokes they made when they thought no one was listening. All she discovered was at least one soldier having an affair with a local man, which she could have gone without knowing.

Frostland’s Gate didn’t have a mayor, just a council of elders (which was just the name for them; these days, they were elected, and generally not that old). Spying on them resulted in learning about the incredibly boring minutiae that was involved in running the village. Half of the meeting time seemed to be taken up by herders arguing about yak grazing rights, made worse by the property lines being constantly in dispute due to snowstorms covering all markings. Another meeting involved reviewing the year’s budget, which nearly put Mirian to sleep as she listened to it.

She spent another night watching for suspicious movement around town, then the next day scanning for magical anomalies or suspicious warding systems. By the end of the 19th of Solem, she’d taken notes on every building in town (there just weren’t that many of them) and was fairly sure Cediri had been honest with her.

By then, they’d started planning their next expedition into the Labyrinth. Aelius’s team, the other one trying to investigate the Vault, had just returned reporting minimal encounters with myrvites on the second level and had expanded Cediri’s map.

Though it seemed Frostland’s Gate was safe, she wasn’t going to take any chances until she’d brought a focus up to check the town for soul magic. The prospect of that seemed daunting, though. She’d have to go down to Cairnmouth, then back up to Frostland’s Gate, taking her right through Torrviol.

“We should do a sweep of the second level around the area,” Cediri said. “Finish mapping. That way we’re sure there’s no ambushes by another horde lying in wait. Go room by room, here and here. And take samples. Niluri detected a spike in arcane energy before the incursion. One of those side rooms might have some answers. Like where the labyrinthine horrors come from, or where they go when they die.”

This was his ploy for increasing the chances they’d find an antimagic room for Mirian. The Syndicate would also be paying him a finder’s fee, though Mirian doubted it would make it up to them by the time the apocalypse came.

“A sweep would take too much time,” Beatrice said. “We still need more data on the vault. Our funding gets cut for sure if what we have is all we can show.”

“Maybe we can get better data by putting our devices on the outside,” Cediri said. “You know? Surround the thing with detectors.”

“Sure, and lose them all to the next shift in the Labyrinth,” Grimald said.

“Better than losing them to Scrappy again,” Cediri replied.

The team sat around the table in silence. Mirian didn’t particularly care what they did, as long as they went down there again. “You’ve tried x-ray and soundwaves to map passages from outside the level, I assume?”

Cediri sighed. “Yup. The outer layers of the Labyrinth block any attempts at divination. That elevator shaft leading to the Labyrinth? Drilled to try and access that outer wall and study it. But the Labyrinth moved out from under the drill hole.”

She’d always thought of the Labyrinth as a random thing, but that struck Mirian as suspiciously intelligent. Funnily enough, she did know what the outer layers of the Labyrinth looked like. She’d seen the otherworldly material when part of the structure was dislodged by a leyline eruption. If she did need to study it, she could always return to that doomed train.

“Fine,” Beatrice said. “Cediri’s plan. Put the devices on the second floor, but retrieve them after five days. I know,” she said, raising her hand to stop Grimald’s objection, “it’s not enough data, and we’ll have too much ambient noise to sort through, but it’s the best we can do. We don’t have the materials to make new devices, so we can’t lose them in a shift.”

Grimald made a noncommittal grunt. Both his teammates looked at him. Cediri raised an eyebrow. Beatrice waggled both her eyebrows. “Oh alright!” Grimald said. “I want one right by the door to the Vault, though. I still want to know if Scrappy is patrolling randomly or in some sort of pattern.”

They started mapping out where they planned to leave devices and where they’d like Mirian and Cediri take samples.

That was when they heard a bell ringing in the distance.

It took Mirian a moment to remember what that meant. Then more bells joined in, clanging with incessant urgency.

Grimald stood so fast he knocked his chair over, and reached for his warhammer. “Myrvite incursion,” he said.

“This early in the season?” Cediri complained.

Beatrice was already on her feet too. “Grab your spellbook and let’s go.” To the tavern, she shouted, “To arms! Prepare to defend Frostland’s Gate!”