Chapter 56: Black Gem

The moment the door finished closing, the High Elder began to pace the room, walking around Charon in a lazy circle. "I wish to speak to you regarding a... complication we had in Islys. It was brought to my attention that an item has disappeared from beneath the former palace. This item is of great importance to us for a multitude of reasons." Twisting his head to keep the man in view, Charon noted the predatory look in the High Elder’s eyes. ’I was right, they were after the Colossus. Now that it’s gone, he suspects the only two people in the area are the ones at fault. The other Elders aren’t here, so I have a chance to lie my way out of it.’ Knitting his eyebrows in mock confusion, he rubbed his chin and spoke. "I don’t know anything about an item. When Emerius and I blew up the palace, we ran into the basement to hide, which turned out to be a bunker. When we went inside, it was empty, so we left. Was there supposed to be something there?" The Elder gave him an appraising look, his gait slowing before he stopped in front of the fireplace, the flames casting sharp shadows around the study. "I had thought as much. The item in question is quite large; it would have been impossible for you to move it without significant help." Nodding as if to convince himself, the man spun and reached directly into the fire, causing Charon to gasp and step back. ’He is going to burn himself alive!’ Instead of his sleeves burning, the flames moved to dance inches away, avoiding the limb as if it were the plague. Fiddling with something set into the stone wall behind the blaze, the High Elder grunted and pulled a box free, dust and pebbles coming with it. He brought it up to his mouth and blew, sending the gray powder flying into the air. The box was shaped like a cube and matte black, with no light piercing its shell. Smooth and sleek, it looked like a piece of the midnight sky, cut and refined until it was perfectly crafted. Gently placing it on the coffee table next to his chair, the High Elder explained while he pressed on specific points. "When you first arrived, I considered you a small investment. Unlikely to provide results. Were you to have passed during the battle, I would be no different tomorrow than yesterday. That was, of course, operating under the assumption that you were normal." A click came from the box, and some internal mechanism began to rotate. "Your performance, however, has changed my expectations. Despite what the others believe, I know that your coming here is no accident." He looked up, his eyes finding Charon’s for a moment before turning back to the task at hand. "With both the potential you bring and the competence you have displayed so far, I feel justified in providing you a special boon. Something that will make your future endeavors easier." The box began to click faster, like a pendulum increasing in tempo, "Due to the rarity of death mages in the River Acheron, I have never used this artifact. You being here allows me to change that. I give this with no small consideration, and I anticipate great results." The clicking continued to speed up, eventually becoming so fast that each beat was unidentifiable, mixed with thousands of others. Charon watched as the top of the box began to ascend, soon followed by the sides separating. The pieces floated in the air, suspended by nothing except magic. In the center of where the cube used to be now sat a purple pillow. Silver thread was embroidered on its surface to create an intricate pattern of runes that Charon couldn’t understand. Resting on top of the pillow was an onyx stone with jagged edges. No flash of light, palpable aura, or otherworldly effects followed. The jewel just lay there, unmoving. Seeing that Charon wasn’t moving, the High Elder prompted him, raising his hand towards the item. "Take it. Its purpose will reveal itself." Giving it a wayward glance, Charon cautiously approached and reached down, grabbing the gem and lifting it to his eyes. It was cool to the touch, a soothing chill that put him at ease. As he held it, the jewel began to melt, turning into a black sludge that pooled in his hands. It never dripped, instead choosing to climb along his arm, making a beeline for his neck. Beginning to panic, Charon tried to shake his arm to dislodge the substance, but it stubbornly clung to him, refusing to budge even when he tried to pull it off with his other hand. ’What the gods is this stuff?’ Once it reached his neck, it raced up to his face, extending itself into three tendrils that dug into his eyes and mouth. Attempting to scream, he found his voice muted as something else took hold. Everything went dark, his senses fading away for the second time that day. When they returned, he felt himself lying on a black floor, a spiderweb of cracks leading off into every direction, his sight fading just a few yards away. Struggling to push himself up, he found his thoughts heavy, as if something was fighting his ability to think. Hoping to hit his head to jar his brain, he discovered his limbs were just as restricted as his mind, his appendage weakly rising just to fall. A dark voice echoed from all around him, calling to him like a lost friend. "Champion... You... have returned..." It was full of mirth and cruelty, disdain and love, order and chaos. An avalanche of contradictions that were difficult to conceive, let alone understand. The instinctual attempt to do so left Charon’s mind bruised, a headache rapidly building behind his eyes. A ball of black mist shot by him, missing him by a breath. The shockwave of the motion still sent him falling onto his back, more cracks shooting out from the point of impact, despite no pain being felt. The motion seemed to force his mind into action, however, as his ability to think returned. Pressing himself up, he pulled his knees beneath himself and whipped his head around to identify whatever hit him, the action little more than a waste of energy in the lightless space. ’And I was just complaining I’d never see darkness again.’ The joke was of little value in his situation, but he was unable to stop himself, utterly lost in all of the mind-boggling events he was going through. He flapped his gums without result for a second before forming proper sentences, the words slurred. "What do you want with me now?" He had, of course, recognized the location and ball of mist on sight. It was the same place he had been sent to during his element trial, and the creature was the one who had made him witness three horrifying visions of his destroyed home. He had thought he was going to die there until he awoke in the hospital afterwards with a mark on his chest. The memories surged into his mind, everything he experienced coming back in visceral detail. It was an unrelenting tsunami of information and emotions, hammering into his skull like nails, each swing bringing more and more trauma. The voice cackled from the shadows. "You... came... to... me... Champion..." Grimacing, Charon remembered the stone the High Elder had given him. "The gem sent me here?" No response followed, and yet he felt the creature confirming his thoughts all the same. It was an invasive feeling, like his mind wasn’t his own anymore; something else had perverted it. Shivering, Charon wrapped his heavy arms around himself and screamed at the darkness. "Then send me back! I didn’t want to be here, and still don’t!" The ball rushed into view, pausing just in front of him. "Are... you... now... afraid?" The question resonated with something deep inside Charon, the resistance he had shown to the creature the first time around. How, even when it was crushing his head into paste, he refused to surrender, choosing to fight until the bitter end. Gritting his teeth, he barked out at the unknown monster, putting as much anger and defiance into his tone as he could muster. "Never, I will never give in to you!" The ball floated up and down before laughing some more. "Then... you... are... still... worthy..." Without any further delays, it shot into Charon, striking him where his mark lay hidden. His feet left the ground, a wave of numbing frost coating his flesh as his ability to feel returned, bringing with it a new type of agony. For what felt like hours, he struggled while suspended in the air, convulsing like he was having a seizure. Foam bubbled up and spilled from his mouth, his eyes rolling back into his head. And then it all faded.