Love's Labors, Part 21


You float in that lightless void, alone now that the Incubus King is once again slumbering within you. Your palm aches, the Brand feeling like it is splitting apart from the strain that the recent struggle has placed on it.

Looking down at your hand, you see the familiar glowing red runes. But you can also see fractures in the intricate spellwork. Damage to its structure. Places where power is leaking across the carefully-constructed magical formula, the energies intermingling to unknown effect.

But before you can think further on this, you feel the memories that you claimed from your enemy start to take hold. The void fades away, replaced by the first memory that you claimed. It gives you your first sight of the Incubus King, not as a malignant spiritual tumor infecting your soul, but as he was when he was alive.

You can see all the signs of corruption you noticed in the incubus you and Ceriss faced. Except here they are even more pronounced. His eyes are sunken and bloodshot, his body withered to the point where he seems almost skeletal. His skin is not the usual vibrant red, but rather looks as though much of his body had been burned.

And yet, despite his outward appearance, the supernatural strength he radiates is terrifying. Both in its scale, and also in how violent and volatile it feels, like it might lash out at any moment. He drums his fingers impatiently on the table at which he sits, watching the only other figure in that small, secluded study. Another incubus, who is even now in the process of spreading out parchments across the table for the Demon Lord to observe.

This incubus is tall and thin, with a piercing gaze, black hair, and a well-trimmed, sharp looking beard. He wears long, ornate robes, marking him as one of the very, very few demons who can cast magic themselves, instead of relying on their innate demonic powers. In fact, though the signs are subtle, you can tell that he wasn't spawned from the Abyss like you were. Rather, he's one of the mortals who, instead of eventually reincarnating, attained a demonic nature themselves during their period of damnation.

There's also something about his quiet, intense bearing that makes you uneasy. Though you can't quite put your finger on why.

"Well, Zethuriel?" demands the Incubus King. "Have you finally been able to deliver what I required of you?"

You suck in a quick, quiet breath. Zethuriel. You recognize that name. It's the same name as the demon that the fake "General Raxien" was about to summon into this world, before you and Ceriss stopped him. You take a second look with this information, taking stock of the demon that the corrupted incubi look to as their leader.

Interestingly, unlike both the Incubus King and the incubus you and Ceriss fought... Zethuriel shows no sign of that maddening corruption whatsoever.

"Yes, my lord," the incubus says placidly, gesturing to the parchment. "The principles are sound, and the prototype design is as you see before you. Of course, finding the proper spell formula is only the first step. Much like our previous endeavors together, to actually achieve something of this magnitude I will require your direct assistance. But if I can make use of your power and your inherent connection to the Abyss, what you desire should be possible."

Your fist clenches. They're talking blasphemy of the highest order. A demon—any demon—attempting to impose their will on the Abyss itself. The eternal wellspring of your kind. The very foundation of the Nine Hells.

Intellectually, of course, you knew they must have done something like that, just based on what you've already seen. Still, to hear them talk about it so casually, like it was nothing at all...

"Good," the Incubus King continues, his fingers continuing to drum as his sunken eyes shift moodily back and forth. "I must have this backup. Just in case something goes wrong. I can't let them get the better of me. There's not a single one of them I can trust. Not the palace staff. Not the royal guard. And not—" He suddenly clenches his fist in a flash of emotion, forcibly breaking off that line of thought. "They'd... they'd all betray me if they could. I know it. I need to be prepared, if it happens. So they don't get away with it."

The erratic paranoia is unnerving to watch, especially knowing the raw power that lies behind it. But Zethuriel simply continues to spread out his parchments, looking altogether unperturbed. The Incubus King leans forward with anxious urgency, studying the countless arcane diagrams scrawled across the countless parchments. And what he sees, you see.

You've studied your Brand before. But those times, the only thing you had to examine was the end result. This... this is a breakdown of all the theory behind it. An analysis of each individual layer that went into the casting, and what purpose they all served. Even from your first glance, you start to pick up on subtleties you never realized, your enhanced intelligence allowing you to devour the information on each page.

Already, you can think of new ways to improve the Seal that is holding the Incubus King in check. Without this knowledge, even if you were to apply the third and final level of the Seal, you estimate that you'd have been struggling hard against the Demon Lord by the last few runes. But knowing what you know now, you're confident that the final improvements should shield you from his influence entirely.

All the way up to the final rune.

When that final unique rune does activate, however, that will be the true test. At that point the Brand will fully activate, and you will have no choice but to face the corrupted Demon Lord head-on. Not in the weakened, incomplete state of only five runes active, but at his true, full power.

However... there may be something more you can do to prepare for the battle. Looking at Zethuriel's research notes, an idea slowly begins to form. When you faced the Incubus King in your most recent confrontation, it was your memories that allowed you to anchor yourself against the assault on your psyche. And now that you see how the Brand was designed to attack your will, it makes perfect sense why that was so.

But perhaps you could use what you've learned from these parchments to design an outright counter to Zethuriel's techniques. An enchantment of your own, one that could aid you in the final battle. A direct crystallization of your most potent memories. A spiritual weapon forged out of your very essence, to empower your soul against the corrosion of the Incubus King's undying spite.

Even as the memories of Zethuriel and the Incubus King work out the finer points of the Brand, the current you is furiously studying their work, trying to thwart those very efforts. A deadly contest of intellect between you and them, carried out across a gap of countless centuries... yet also carried out in direct parallel, through this twist of recollection.

Time blurs in strange ways here. That's true of the time as it passes in the memory, with one scene of study bleeding into the next. And it's also true of your experience of time, as you watch it happen. It's impossible to say for sure how long you spend locked in that struggle. Watching them hone and perfect the curse that would eventually afflict you, even as you plan out your own desperate defense against it.

The more you study his work, the more obvious it becomes that Zethuriel is a mage of unparalleled brilliance. Even with your own increased intellect, you have difficulty finding any weaknesses in his designs. But this memory is a significant edge, giving you unguarded insights that he certainly never intended the Brand's victim to have.

Finally, you settle on the outlines of a plan. It will doubtless need a lot of tuning, and you'll probably want to run it by Nevati for a second pair of eyes. But you're confident that the theory is sound. The ritual for creating this dream-weapon would be long and complex, with many expensive spell components that would be used up in the process.

Still, there are only a handful that you expect would be difficult for an agent of the Witch Queen to requisition. A pearl that is at least a thousand years old. A feather from a phoenix. And an object that you've owned for at least a decade.

The last one, while it wouldn't usually considered one of the difficult ones, may actually be the most difficult at present. Seeing as you came here naked, you'll have quite a difficult time fulfilling that requirement. Unless you can either persuade the succubi to cooperate... or find the right people to orchestrate a heist on the Second Circle of Hell itself.

Even as you consider the possibilities, you notice that the memory is fading. You still hold it in the depths of your mind, however, and you know that you can call it up again should the need arise. Seeing no need to linger, you dive immediately into the second memory you stole from your foe.

This memory opens with the Incubus King and Zethuriel standing in a desolate, rocky part of the Second Circle, a tall cliff that overlooks the Abyss itself, far below. The wind whips around them, as they gaze out across the Primordial Void. You look as well, staring into the depths of its shifting textures of Chaos and Formlessness, crackling with the raw, untamable power of the bottomless potential from which all Creation sprang.

Its roiling expanse is at once dark ocean and utter emptiness. It exemplifies both, even in ways that are contradictory. The Abyss confounds reason, responding only to the most primal realities of existence. Lusts. Desires. Sins.

Turning away from the transcendent view, the two demons step down into a small cleft in the rock, revealing an even smaller tunnel. It's cramped enough that they are forced to hunch as they enter it. They descend a steep, cramped stone staircase, neither of them breaking the silence.

After what seems like hours, they finally emerge into a tiny room that has been hewn into the stone. The entire room is absolutely covered with wards. You can see sigils carved into practically every inch of the rock walls. Anti-diviniation spells of a truly astonishing scale, designed to shield this place from any and all magic that might try to locate or observe it.

The reason for that can be seen at the room's far end. The tunnel was dug into the cliff so that this tiny chamber actually hung out over Abyss itself, the churning depths churning visible through a small hole drilled into the floor.

And levitating above that hole is a small, slowly rotating cube made of gold and onyx. Even just at a glance you know that it is an artifact of immense power. The closest comparison its magic brings to mind is to the spells of a lich's phylactery... though the similarities are only superficial, and this magic is not even technically necromancy at all. Even with the knowledge you've gained from the Brand, this is something beyond your experience.

"Is it finished?" asks the Incubus King.

"I completed the final tests yesterday," Zethuriel assures him. "This is the final piece, my lord. Once we activate it—and I collapse the tunnel and conceal the entrance—you may rest secure that you are beyond any chance of permanent defeat."

With a satisfied grunt, the Incubus King walks over the small cube. "It will truly secure my soul upon death? And attach my Brand to the next incubus to be spawned from the Abyss? As many times as it takes?"

"It will... likely not be immediate," admits Zethuriel. "The host must be capable of bearing your mark. Only demons with a high degree of inherent potential will be capable of withstanding the transformation. And such demons will likely be rare. But sooner or later, such demons will be born. And when they are, you will be waiting."

Raising his hand, the Incubus King makes a small incision on his thumb, allowing a few drops of blood to fall down onto the cube's golden face. Immediately the cube pulses with a sickly green light, a pulse that is echoed from the Demon Lord's chest. He stumbles, wobbling in place, but soon recovers himself. Then, as both demons watch, the cube itself begins to bleed, releasing a steady trickle of sludge-like ichor down into the Abyss below.

You shudder in revulsion, seeing for yourself the long-ago moment when you were condemned to this fate, your spawning tainted by this foul sorcery, centuries later. But with this knowledge, you have another powerful weapon in the battle against your enemy. If the cube could be found and destroyed, you would be the final incubus that the old king could ever afflict with this Brand.

You're quite confident that the succubi would also be desperate to know this secret. It could be a powerful bargaining chip in any negotiations... or perhaps, if offered freely, an equally-powerful show of good faith.

Even as you ponder this, the second memory fades into nothingness. Only one memory is left, the final memory that you tore free. And while the first two were mostly recollections of useful facts... you can tell even without experiencing it that this memory has a festering coil of intense, conflicting emotions attached to it. Emotions that far exceed anything in the first two.

Before diving into that final memory, you look down once more at your Brand as you hang there in that inner void.

ᚡ ᛤ ᚡ ᛤ ᛠ ᛤ ᚡ ᛤ ᚡ ᛥ

With the newfound knowledge of the first memory, you're able to interpret it with much more certainty than before. Some things you've already experienced, such as how each rune unlocks a power, while alternating runes also increase the more fundamental capacity of your body and mind. And you sense that—as before—a power has unlocked with this rune as well.

If it were merely following the alternating pattern, that would be the end of it. But there's more this time. As you noticed before looking into the first memory, the battle with the Incubus King has damaged the Brand. The power that courses through it is melding in unpredictable ways, flowing and blending together along cracks in the spellwork, resulting in unpredictable synergies.

One such pathway has just opened up, linking two of your already-activated runes. And—though it hasn't happened yet—you can estimate by studying the cracks in the Brand that similar links will form when the seventh and ninth runes activate.

Finally, in addition to those two changes, you sense a new power swelling up deep within you. Not one of the more common powers... but an ability that could only be gained from one of the unique runes.

The rush is exhilarating, as you search within yourself to learn what abilities you've gained this time. And you suspect that this rune in particular will strongly impact your options going forward...