The Heart is a Void: Ashes to Ashes

"This says that we'd need a 'communing spiral' to carry out the instructions. What is that?"

"I saw that in a store in Sanra," Grisier replied, "I think it was a round board with with a black spiral painted on it, and a round hole in the centre. It curved lightly downwards near the centre."

"Oh, that? There's one of those on the right edge of the pews," DicingDevil replied.

"That's great, I was afraid that we'd have to go to 1800s Paris and die in order to carry out this 'communing' spell," Crucis said dryly.

The three of them walked up to the circular board, which was placed on the floor next to the pews. Kneeling down, DicingDevil covered the edge of the board with grey dust, which he had found in a small cabinet next to the mirror. He glanced into the hole in the centre.

"It says we'd need dust from a skeleton or corpse, but there's already a heap of dust in the central hole. There seems to be a net of some sort holding it in place," he said.

"Maybe someone was using that dust to commune with the dead. I guess we should try and find out whose dust it is?" Crucis replied.

"Alright. If you say this part right, apparently the dust should get absorbed into the central hole." DicingDevil handed Crucis the instructions.

"These 'spells' seem quite simple," Grisier said with a slight frown.

"They seem to be based on superstition, those are often very simple," Crucis replied. "Saying words into mirrors, walking under ladders, black cats. Simple, evocative imagery. Plus, due to the spread of disease in the court, the King and Queen might have been physically incapable of doing anything too intricate."

He placed the Queen's skull next to the board, and used [Voice Spoofing] to emulate the voice of the Queen saying, "In loss, we no longer feel the sting."

In a matter of seconds, the grey dust around the edges of the board was sucked into the central hole, making a noise like suffocation as it fell. The room was silent for a couple of seconds.

"This reminds me of the Vortex Queen from that old dolphin video game," Crucis said.

"It's strange," Grisier said. "Clearly something happened, but I don't see anything being conjured." He leaned closer to the centre of the board to investigate.

After a lull of 15 seconds, the players were surprised by the sound of a young girl's distressed scream emerging from the centre of the board.

"I guess that must have been her hole," Crucis said in jest, as Grisier staggered backwards due to the loud noise.

There was the sound of whispering from beneath the board. Crucis could make out about five young voices, probably around the ages 8-14, with two boys and three girls. Leaning closer, he couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but they seemed to occasionally mention necromancy. The voices slowly grew louder, and began speaking in a mixture of English and the local language.

"The necromancers are trying to kill us. Grasi naguor! Axi mismu!" said a proud, boisterous young male's voice.

"I don't see them, where are they, Masha?" a shaky young girl's voice replied nervously.

"They don't need to show up! They use magic!" replied the first voice, and Crucis guessed that it belonged to a boy nicknamed 'Masha.'

"Speduor solia," a nervous male voice replied.

"Naguor!" Masha replied. "We have to escape. Come, Emral."

"It's locked," replied the nervous male named Emral, "no way out. Windows shut with bar. We should give up. Look, they're casting a spell on Aliné."

The female voice which had asked about the necromancers now let out a loud moan, and then a guttural noise like somebody choking loudly. A sound like a burst of thunder exploded across the room from the board, and all three players held their hands to their ears due to the sudden, loud noise which seemed to almost make their bodies lurch backwards.

"Suras catakla! Is that a storm?" Masha's voice shouted.

"It's nigromanty. She's dead," Emral said.

"Necromancer? This storm, it reminds me of the place father took us, to the East. See? You laughed when I was scared, but I was right."

"Nigromanty, 'bad magic.' Father told me it was big evil."

"There is smoke now," said a female's voice.

"Naguor!" Masha said again, "Who is doing this? It isn't father? He has a witch bird!"

"No," of course not!" the female replied. "It must be necromancer! What do they want? We did not harm them!"

"They hate the Kingdom!" Masha replied proudly. "That must be it. Jelki! Why couldn't Aliné resist the magic? Father's Mages cast a spell to protect us from necromancy on this journey."

"The protection doesn't matter," Emral replied. "The spell is ignoring it. It was like she was a puppet on a string, helpless."

"Wait, I see a man! He is on fire! Did they use a spell on him too?" said the girl.

"There is no fire," Masha replied, "it is a weird fishman drenched in water, wearing a crown. Gastuor, miusmi! It is holding out something glowing towards you. A ring? Ha, he is not the brave prince you dreamed of!"

"No, it's a key. Gars naguor! I didn't say 'brave prince,' I said a passionate prince who will conquer Kruxol!"

"He is casting a spell! It says 'Reborn'!"

"Maybe he is trying to revive Aliné and Dexia. He is our saviour!" Emral exclaimed.

A green flame burst out from the central hole of the board, and billowed into the air. It intertwined with the high-pitched dying scream of the last female, as if the fire was burning inside her.

"This is like choking on acid!" Masha cried out. The sounds of the two boys suffocating to death rang out, and there was silence.

"Justice has been done. It cannot be undone. Turn back, summoner," said a low-pitched, rasping voice which echoed through the room. It said no more.

The scene faded away, and the room was still.

"Strange," Grisier said quietly, "it said this was for communing with spirits, but all we did was hear them die."

"Because their death was a result of the King's [Reborn] spell. It forbids having children. It seems that the person can still try to have children, but the magic which animates his new life will destroy them. His war against necromancy probably also turned this residual necromantic magic against him," Crucis said.

"But he had to fight against necromancy, because he wanted a happy family life and glory," Grisier mused. "He built his whole new life on a grave, but scorned the grave."

"Yes. Anyway, back to the 'communing.' Well, we never tried to talk to the dead, perhaps we should repeat the summoning and then see if they're chatty?"

DicingDevil nodded, and placed grey dust once more around the edge of the board. As Crucis once more repeated an invocation in the voice of the Queen, the sound of a girl's scream rose up again, along with the chatter of children.

This time, when Masha began talking about necromancers, DicingDevil spoke up. "Hello? Are you in danger?"

"Yes. Are you a necromancer?" Masha replied combatively.

"No. You can't escape?"

"I think we need to fight them!" Masha said.

"We can't, you know that," Emral replied.

The frayed sound of a flute playing wafted across the room, and the voice of the children was still. A muffled voice emerged from the circular board, sounding like the moans of a dying old man.

"You have seen the bleak house of these children," it said, "but what if their fate was changed? What if there was hope? If you wish, you may speak to them as they meet their end. If that does not content you, then you have another choice. If you place tears in the central hole of the spiral, then you may see the happy future of these children, as they safely return to court and grow to ensure the future of the Kingdom."

"Looks like we'd need tears to continue," Crucis said.

"Tears for dying royals?" DicingDevil said. "Does it think we're British?"

"I have just the thing," Grisier said while looking through his inventory. He pulled out an [Onion]. "I picked this up from some mobs when I was on my way to meet you guys. Pity to waste it here, ah well."

He leaned towards the onion, and started cutting into it with a small knife which he carried for self-defence at close range. The knife was sharper than necessary, and he was careful to avoid injuring himself, but soon he had cut enough of the onion to draw faint tears.

As Grisier cut the onion further, and prepared to catch any tears in the palm of his hand, Crucis began to consider the situation.

"It says that it will change fate, but it doesn't say how," he said. "Wouldn't it have to somehow overcome the necromancy? But that would change the strictures of the [Reborn] spell, it would change the rules of this world. Further, what mechanism would it use to save the children from the spell? It all seems absurd."

"You're right," DicingDevil said, "It would mean that the children were somehow protected from the necromancy. But it doesn't seem to work out how, it rushes through the dangers to get the ending it wants. Should we let Grisier go ahead and do this?"

"Protected? Like plot armour?" Crucis laughed. "Typically, plot armour is similar, actually. The writer is so anxious to bring about the 'correct' resolution to the story - some kind of moral idyll - that they completely ignore the situation's conflict. The character's 'plot armour' is just made up to fill the gaps, in order to keep the story on rails towards the desired moral. It is the 'triumph' of morality, in literary form. Readers may criticise it, but in truth it is common because both readers and authors find it fulfilling. Such is the price of morality in storytelling.

"That reminds me, though, perhaps the King didn't take damage for some reason like this? I remember that he had an ability named 'Blinding Fate.' Perhaps, in his blind rush towards destiny, he gained a sort of 'plot armour' protection which held us back? He barely took damage, but think of how much more resilient these children would have to be to survive the powerful, absolute effect of the necromancy that erased their existence. If his 'resilience' was similar, then perhaps there is no explanation for it. It is a supposed 'fate' written backwards onto its 'pre-history.' An absurdity."

"The King was difficult, but not impossible. But if this kind of 'armour' becomes common, then it will make things difficult. We'd have to plan around it somehow."

"Yes. We've already seen hints of that. Perhaps these children can supposedly resist necromantic powers because of their royal 'fate,' but FGRT treats this as a fighting style: he attacks freely and with little need to hold back, goes on his own adventure and ignores the obstacles. This in spite of the fact that there is no way for his defensive stats to be strong enough. His weakness, I'd guess, is that he has little perspective on normal combat in the game, and his fighting skills seem loose and one-sided. But we needed Akshel to shackle the King, and even that was difficult. If players gain powers like the King's, and can abuse them as a carte blanche to dictate the game? Then that becomes the new battlefield, but it will be difficult."

Grisier was reaching out over the board, and poured some tears from his cupped hands into the centre of the board.

"This whole ritual is like something the [Communion] Guild would have come up with. Speaking of 'come,' it's probably also how they have sex, placing tears into holes," Crucis laughed.

"I'm just showing the broad - um, board an ice time," Grisier replied in a burlesque manner.

"Alright, Mr. Freeze."

"Now let's see what cold have been."

DicingDevil slapped Grisier lightly.

As the group watched the board, they heard a tinkling sound of laughter emerge from the entrance to the room, by the river. Five young teenagers walked in, surrounded by haloes of light. Each male wore thick, formal shirts carefully ebroidered with elaborate green-and-white patterns, while the females wore long dresses which were decorated similarly. Most of their outfits were red, but one blonde female wore a slightly pink-tinted violet dress. The males wore black pants, and had small scabbards by their sides without swords.

"Thanks, Elara," said a blond, upright male whose voice Crucis recalled as Emral's, "Good luck with your wedding. This is the most peaceful our Kingdom has been, even though our father is ill."

"It's fine," replied a slightly frail-looking brunette female, "You'll succeed him. We should have peace with our neighbours, since Aliné and I are being married to them."

This resembled the female who had expressed her wish to marry a prince from Kruxol.

"Yes, but why stop at peace?" said a short, black-haired male who sounded like Masha, "Our Kingdom keeps growing. That is how it begun, that is how it should continue."

"We already have so many riches, and this grand palace! We can't find things to enjoy for ourselves?"

"If we stagnate, someone else will unite the neighbouring lands and conquer us."

"We have so much land already. Why have conquest without spoils?"

"Out of necessity."

"Are you guys really going to argue again?" sighed Aliné, a slim, blonde girl with black eyes and a mouth which almost seemed set in a sneer. "Look, some of you can be housewives, some can be conquerors. But what's amazing is how quickly this Kingdom arose, and now we'll be the ones to keep it there."

"Yes," Emral replied, "It's good for Elara to focus on pleasure, so that her husband will become attached to her. You, on the other hand, will fight, Mas."

"You told me last week that Elara was a better fighter than me, so why don't we switch places?" Masha replied angrily. "I can be a housewife, she can fight with her witchy magical sword."

Crucis rose and approached the children.

"Greetings. What are you doing here, and may I assist?" he said politely.

"Our mother told us to fetch some of her belongings. She will meet us here soon. I haven't seen you around here, did you come to visit my father?"

Crucis used [Voice Spoofing], and switched his voice to sound like the King's.

"Yes. Is he in good health?" The voice of the King, since he had been encountered as the Man-Bird, was slightly hoarse and sounded ill, but still had a strong sense of ambition to it.

"He is doing better than he has ever been."

"You sound ill yourself," Aliné said, holding her hands lightly to her heart, "Do you need anyone to help you?"

"I might have caught something here. Weren't there some plagues recently?"

"Oh, yes. The necromancers sent them, I think. But they are all going away, everything will be much better."

"Did someone find a cure? Did the gods answer your prayers?"

"This is a peaceful, safe age for our Kingdom. Even our father's illness is going away. There's no reason for it, but it happens! Isn't it wonderful?"

Crucis hid a frown.

"So are you next in line to be King?" he asked Emral.

"Yes. Unlike my brother here, I want a time of peace and prosperity for all. We will become a fountain of peace and nobility through these lands."

"As long as your father approves. Do you know where your father is right now?"

"Oh, yes! He should be in a meeting right now. Come, I can show you."

Crucis found it strange that a Prince would stoop to showing others directions, but reflected that the Prince had died years before this, and this was an illusion based on an enthusiastic, dead young child. Emulating the voice of their father may have also caused the children to feel emotionally connected to him.

Emral walked out of the doorway, towards the artificial stream. Crucis followed him.

"My noble father is down there. There are rumours that he is still ill, but you sound like you're more sick. He might know some remedies, good sir, to heal your disease," Emral said.

As Emral gestured in a direction past the white-curtained room, Crucis grabbed him by the shoulder and stabbed it with a [Stunning Dagger], which tore a deep rash.

"I am your father," Crucis said in the Man-Bird's rasping, bird-like voice. He had been impatiently waiting for an opportunity to say this line.

As the child was paralysed, Crucis used [Panoramic Strike] and stabbed firmly through Emral's left ear, using a [Dagger Twist] once his dagger had reached clearly into the child's head. This was enough to kill the young Emral, who slumped down noiselessly. Crucis knelt down, and released Emral silently into the stream, where his body slowly drifted away.

Strangely, the only drops from killing this variant of Emral were some worthless [Red Rags], and a [Fake Jewel].

He heard Aliné approaching from behind him, and slipped quickly behind the door. He was surprised to see that Aliné's shadow behind her seemed to have glowing, fiery eyes. As she saw that nobody was nearby, she walked tentatively out until she was next to the stream.

Crucis had cast [Stealth Cloak] as she approached, and now snuck carefully behind her. He grabbed her by the throat in a [Chokehold], and shoved the [Red Rags] into her mouth to keep her quiet. She couldn't scream out past the red rags and suffocation, and fell limply towards the ground as Crucis pulled her down to the side. Her slim midriff seemed to pose into an arc as she neared the ground, and her waist froze in place. This posing during a rough fall struck Crucis as seeming slightly artificial. He looked at her shadow, and was surprised as it seemed to lift a hand and grab at him.

Well, it wouldn't be a séance without ghosts.

The shadow just about missed his arm as he flinched back, and he quickly struck with a [Silent Stab] to the back of Aliné's neck, at the top of her neck. Dark blood flowed from the wound, and Aliné slumped to the ground, dead.

Crucis saw that the female still had a hopeful, if desperate, expression on her face as she died. As he pulled the dagger out from her neck, he saw that the moving shadow of her face now had white-red eyes like rubies in bright light, and was staring him down. As this shadow rose towards Crucis, he struck through Aliné's neck again. The shadow recoiled in agony, and Crucis smiled slightly.

He got up carefully, but this time the shadow did not dare to attack him as he continually threatened to stab the girl again. As Aliné's body lay dead on the ground, the shadow's eyes slowly faded away.

Aliné had dropped a [Letter], and an item named [Stars of Ember] which had no description. Black smoke was now rising across the air, from Crucis' strikes.

Returning to the room, Crucis saw that Masha had picked up a sword. Crucis wondered where Masha had got the sword from, since there were none laying around in the room and these people had empty scabbards. However, he saw that Masha was talking agitatedly with Elara, and at his instruction Elara drew another sword from his empty scabbard. Crucis grimaced. These figures were using the wish-fulfillment aspect of this summoning to their advantage. Seemingly some self-aware spirits had drawn on the children's dust and inhabited these dead children. But perhaps the spirits had always been in these children, whose story was so intertwined with the summoning and rituals of this court? And if these spirits only appeared clearly in this kind of fantasy future, then were they real or just a part of the fantasy?

Crucis drew out his sword. Masha approached him, asking angrily where his siblings were. Crucis struck venomously at Masha's right hand with a [Slash], sending the prince's sword tumbling away, and then stabbed harshly forwards with a [Lunge] to Masha's throat.

At this strike, Masha's body began to unravel. His skin fell away to leave a ragged child with deep cuts and holes across his body, and blood poured out freely.

"This is like acid!" he wailed.

However, he still seemed to lunge forwards at Crucis with one hand, as Elara angrily raised her sword to strike at Crucis. Crucis used [Dodge Step] to back out of the way, and the wretched Masha fell to the ground due to the effort of his own lunge. Crucis saw that Masha's HP was returning quickly. The other sister, Dexia, was nowhere to be seen, and had seemingly vanished.

Crucis signalled to DicingDevil and Grisier to join the fight. As Elara charged towards Crucis, she was stopped in her tracks by a [Breath of Ice] spell. Crucis smiled and held his arms out to the side in a wide shrug.

As Elara recovered and tried to charge wildly again, Crucis used [Agile Step] to move right in front of her, then struck her through the throat with a harsh [Lunge]. Her throat was delicate, and she made a faint cry as Cruxis struck. Crucis used [Chokehold], and dragged her neck raggedly across the blade until she died. Blood was pouring from her torn neck, which fell apart as she dropped to the ground.

She dropped a [Damnation Store-room Key], and a [Missing Persons List].

DicingDevil had managed to strike Masha with a firm [Mordhau], but Masha shrugged it off and charged towards Crucis again. Crucis noticed that these figures would charge rashly forwards, even though it left them open. The spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak. As Masha lunged towards Crucis, Crucis swung his blade fiercely while stepping backwards, striking Masha's arm and chest enough to end the lunge. DicingDevil walked up behind Masha and struck with an executioner-like [Wrath strike], which cleanly severed Masha's neck. Crucis dashed in and caught Masha's head as a souvenir.

"It dropped rags," DicingDevil said resignedly.

"Yes. This whole display was artificial," Crucis said. "It never happened, the children never recovered. But even these children died because they were never meant to exist. They were like dead spirits from the start. One is missing, by the way, so be careful."

They heard a loud knocking from behind a small door at the far end of the room, in front of the pews. As DicingDevil approached, seeking the final child, the wood of the door suddenly twisted into the shape of a hunchbacked, clawed man who faintly resembled the Man-Bird. It had its mouth open, and seemed to be lunging at DicingDevil, who stepped back hastily.

However, this strange figure, sculpted into the door, did not move any further. It simply remained petrified, frozen into the door.

"Wait, Elara dropped a key," Crucis said, seemingly ignoring the figure which had appeared on the door. "Perhaps it will work."

"Alright, be careful," DicingDevil replied.

With Grisier watching closely to see if anything attacked, Crucis walked up to the door and placed the [Damnation Store-room Key] into the door's lock. As he turned it, the door clicked open.

"Dexia is always elusive," Crucis said as he slowly drew the door open, "She died before we could hear much of her. Now she again is not appearing. But she can be surprising as well, look out."

As the door swung open, there was a sudden movement from behind it, that seemed to be lunging towards Crucis. However, Crucis remained calm. As the group approached the door, they saw that a shadowy, ragged figure was suspended in a tall mirror, with large, white eyes staring at Crucis and wing-like, tattered arms making as if to reach out.

As DicingDevil walked into the room, he heard some whimpering in a corner. As he tried to approach it, he found that there was nothing there.

Across the room, pieces of furniture were piled. As DicingDevil tried to rummage through them, he found that his arm was stuck. Pulling it loose, he saw that the leg of a chair had tangled itself around him.

"Nothing in there. But this is strange. Not really the dungeon romp I was expecting," DicingDevil exhaled.

A black-haired, feminine figure seemed to appear in the middle of the room, running towards the exit. However, it vanished into the air like mist. Crucis grinned. Walking to the centre of the room, he placed one of the keys of life down, then waited.

Soon, a disembodied arm appeared, reaching for the key. Crucis grabbed the arm and pulled, until Dexia's slight figure fell to the ground next to him. Savagely grabbing her by the neck, he stabbed a dagger into the back of her throat and head until she died.

She dropped only one item, a [Dungeon Key].

"She dropped a key to enter the dungeon - meaning the prisons, I'd guess. I doubt we have enough time," Crucis said.

"Yes. Those dungeons are just beside this room," DicingDevil said. "We can go there if you want to run this place again, I've never entered it before."

"Sure. I'd guess that the dungeons could be dangerous, but I think we can do this."

"I got a glimpse there from upstairs," Grisier said, "I think there was a corpse of someone level 100 in one cell. If they revived and somehow broke out, it could be a difficulty. But we'll have a look tomorrow."

"Yes, yes."

"I'm surprised that these children weren't as resilient as the King, since they should have 'plot armour,'" DicingDevil said.

"Hm. They wouldn't. But something did. The fantasy which lay beneath them, and was reviving them in spite of the necromancy. Didn't you see the man petrified on the door, the moving chair leg? There was no way to fight that. Dexia was barely alive and seemed to keep fading into another creature, and that's what kept on lunging at us. We couldn't fight it at all, if you tried to strike the door then nothing would happen, it would still attack you with the chair leg and so on.

"But it seems that it had problems with this arrangement as well. Since it had no stable physical incarnation, it was limited, and even the man in the door couldn't really 'live.' When it was tempted by the key, it had to reveal itself through Dexia to claim it, and this made it vulnerable. If that didn't happen, it could have kept us waiting for longer.

"The children were based on the dust already placed into the board. That was derived from their corpse. Of course they could be killed normally. But the children were merely the dust used as clothing. What lay beneath them was impossible to attack for a while, until Dexia finally revealed themselves. The children were still just the dust of victims of necromancy, but in the background was a bizarre fantasy which fancied that it had overcome necromancy, and even disease, producing some bizarre reality where the King had healed and the necromantic attack never succeeded. The fa- ahem, 'plot armour' is right beneath the skin."