Sworded Affair

Chapter 72 : Praise the Sun

Astrid smiled widely as she materialised back in her true home; a modest three bedroom house in Kiruna, the northernmost city in Sweden. With a population of less than twenty thousand and isolated to the extreme, courtesy of being ninety miles north of the arctic circle, Kiruna had weathered the terminus well. The people were hardy, storing food was the norm amidst the harsh winters, and gun ownership was high; that, alongside some magical assistance had kept casualties to a minimum. Some concessions had to be made for the times, of course; a night-time curfew was in effect and a few food items were being rationed, but by and large the city had stood up to the test incredibly well. High above, the midnight sun greeted her in all its brilliance, unbothered by the turmoil below. This far to the north, the sun never set as summer approached. In keeping with tradition, Astrid stared straight at the sun through the rooftop window, until her eyes began to burn, welcoming its warmth.

[Astrid Rosén - Level 12 Warrior of Light]

Only then did she look away and start tending to herself. With a snap of her fingers, her regal red dress and associated jewellery faded into nothing; all except for a singular ring upon her finger, the source of all her magic and the one item that had made her part in the performance possible.

[Don't Be a Stranger: Take on the mask and powers of a fallen ancestor (Princess Astaroth). Whilst you wear this ring, all who gaze upon you shall perceive only the mask.]

"Did I do well?"

[You did. Everyone truly believed you were Astaroth, or at least played along well enough to meet my objective. I have my suspicions about Paradox, but she wouldn't expose me over this, not when she too stands to benefit from my success.]

"About that," Astrid mentioned as she worked the kettle; whilst vintage wines and exotic cocktails were nice once in a while, her one true love among drinks was coffee. "Why did we need this whole performance, anyway? Don't get me wrong, it was nice meeting Emma and having a chance to teach our history to someone completely new to it all, but couldn't one of the instructors have replaced Astaroth for the trial after she got herself killed in Stockholm?"

[That would have been fine, if the objective was just for Emma to pass; Astaroth was needed for her to excel. None of the substitutes on hand had the right magic for it.]

"But I didn't teach her any magic," Astrid's brow furrowed. "That would've been next week, if you didn't tell me to take a dive to those assassins. You also told me to avoid using any Water magic, instead relying on the weaker Death aspect of her class."

[That's the tricky part, you see. Astaroth had to be there to serve as a catalyst, but she couldn't stay for the main event itself lest she overpower the test. You'll understand, when you meet Emma again. For now though, your reward, as promised.]

High in the heavens above, the Sun shone the tiniest bit brighter, as a spark of its radiance descended for mortal hands to grasp.

---

[Quest - Align in the Sand updated!

(Bonus) Objective: Complete the Trial with the Princess alive (FAILED)

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Note: The Princess is alive in reality, but has activated a fail-safe removing her from Scholomance. For the purposes of this trial, she counts as dead.

Rewards updated!

Objective: Complete the Trial of Crowns.

(Bonus) Objective: Complete the Trial without changing Alignment.

Rewards: 500 EXP, Archetype (Damned Apostle)

Bonus Reward: Ability - Null and Void]

Emma froze in place, reading the declaration of Princess Astaroth's sudden departure from the trial in shock. The announcement was sparse in detail, leaving no clue as to the cause, nor did the following updates make matters any clearer.

[For defeating the second wave of invaders, 100 EXP gained.]

"I didn't even do anything!" Emma complained, hurrying to catch back up to Sir Bearington as he led the way down more flights of stairs than Emma had thought the castle held.

Thrice, they passed by the bodies of guards; lying in pools of blood with their throats expertly slit. A few twitched feebly, remnants of necromancy attempting to animate them but failing in the absence of the Princess. Eventually, the stairs came to an end, opening up into a small chamber, barely bigger than the wine cellar from before albeit far better lit, courtesy of abundant candles adorning the walls. Sir Bearington took one step into the chamber and fell over dead, tongue lolling out and his eyes rolled back into his head.

[Status condition: Poison resisted.]

Unafraid of any toxin, Emma brushed past as Sir Bearington faded from view, returning to rest within her soul. The other bodies scattered around the room, by contrast, remained exactly where they were. Two human-sized skeletons, one against the wall on either side of her, their bones charred black and hissing in pools of molten glass. A third body, far better preserved save for a massive head lay slumped at the back of the chamber. He was a study in contrasts; clad in grey robes that blended into the walls, yet his dead hands clenched around a massive war-hammer that wouldn't have looked out of place wielded by an Orcish Warchief. A necklace lay inches from the hammer, its jewelled centrepiece shattered beyond repair.

[Diamonds are Forever (Damaged): Absorbs one fatal blow on behalf of the wearer before breaking. Upon shattering, the wearer is sent to where this item was initially crafted.]

"So that's how she survived."

Emma didn't spare another glance at the remains; as interesting as the choice of equipment on display might have been, their wielders were no longer relevant to the trial, and thus far less concerning to her than the glowing purple pentagram carved into the chamber's floor. Emma was no mage, but even she could feel the overwhelming power within the construct; a mass of pressure that pulsed in time to a heartbeat that she no longer possessed. With each pulse, faint traces of movement could be seen; revealing flickers of something more ghost in man, eyes wide with horror as it mouthed a silent warning.

[Soul Prison: This ritual circle contains the sacrificed soul of the Paramour, the castle's original owner. The Princess was using it to amplify her magic; allowing her to maintain control of the castle's guards, as well as reanimate and sustain thousands of undead soldiers. With the Princess gone, the prison is beginning to destabilise. Seize control of its wayward energies before your trial comes to an explosive end.]

Emma didn't need to be told twice; immediately stepping into the pentagram and stretching out a hand to the fallen. It passed straight through the Paramour, to no obvious effect.

"Intangible?" Emma tilted her head. "Two can play that game."

Activating Ardent Ephemera, Emma reached out once more, ghost to ghost, to take the sacrificed soul's hand. For the briefest of moments; she saw him not as a faded spectre, but as the proud, strong man he once was. Then, the world faded into purest white, a blinding radiance far beyond anything the icy wasteland of the sixth floor had to offer, and Emma burned.

[Hidden Conditions met:

Reach Level 10.

Bind at least 1 soul in servitude.

Gain access to a Place of Power (Scholomance).

Gain control of a Leyline (Death Magic)

Earn the respect of a Magus of Death (Princess Astaroth).

Beginning Archetype formation.]