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Chapter 32. The Unclaimed Throne
🕑 Added 2025-03-23 15:32:00 +0000 UTC“Your attacks are telegraphed,” Liam complained.
“No, they are not. You just have perpetual precognition.”
“That might be true, but still… You fight like a graceless bull, charging blindly half the time. You're impatient. You get frustrated too quickly. All these are little flaws that will someday come back to bite you in the ass.”
Rafe sighed. He was tired, exhausted, defeated. He slumped his stiff shoulders.
“Man, my body feels so unwieldy. I can't wait to work on it a little bit once all this is over and dealt with.”
Liam studied his lanky teenage body and frowned. “Indeed.”
“I was once proud of the physique I had. I should have suspected it wasn't that great when I couldn't get girls, shouldn't I?”
Liam frowned at him. “Our time together draws to an end, young one. Do you not have a question for me?”
“I didn't touch you once,” Rafe said with a shrug, not bothering to hide the bitterness clawing at his throat.
“The sparring session is finished. Ask and I will give you the most pertinent answer before you're on your way.”
Rafe looked around into what was once endless black. He could sense the expanse in which they stood. Or he thought he could. The main purpose of their extended sparring session had been to get Rafe to control his new racial ability, and they'd achieved that at least. He did have to limit his sphere of perception to a few inches around him for the moment, but it would grow as his race ranked up. His precognition was still finicky, but at least he did have a precognition ability.
He'd managed seven whole levels to the Skyholm's fighting proficiency skill in that last month. He had climbed a long way with desperation leading him on. He had failed in the end, but the skill had grown. As had his fighting acumen. Now Liam was telling him he might still get the information on the system he desired.
“What is the system? Who controls it? How does it work?”
Liam nodded. “Too many questions. Luckily, they have a similar answer so I'll let it slide. The system is a consciousness to the essence.”
“...”
“You don't understand what I mean. Do you remember that goblin nest core? The system is a bigger version of those, in the simplest terms, although it handles both monsters and awakened.”
“That answers none of my questions!” Rafe couldn't help but complain.
“And that is fine. I said I'd give the most pertinent answer. You'll have to find out more from other sources. I am allowed to tell you, however, that the system is like a child. No, it is a child. The first of many. It is a natural phenomenon, as are the others.”
Rafe waited, but Liam seemed to be done talking.
“That makes much less sense. Is it a child, a natural phenomenon? Pick one.”
Liam looked up at the sky, such as it was. When the void did not rumble, he said, “The system is all also called the unclaimed throne. It can rule the multiverse, but not alone. The others are necessary. The boundaries, the river, the darkness.”
The void roiled a little in warning then.
“It is also at war, the system. All the children are.”
The void now roiled in earnest.
“You must go now. Our time together draws to an end.”
“You're not going to flick me on the forehead, give me direction?” Rafe asked, trying to break the tension.
“Me and Noid are quite different, thank you very much. Just move forward and you'll find what you seek. We are in a civilised void space.”
Rafe turned and left, a little disappointed with the information, a little disappointed his training had ended, and maybe even a little disappointed he'd never see two of these gods again. At least not anytime soon.
****
“Welcome,” a cloud of darkness darker than the void approached him. “You stand in the presence of the god of shadows.”
“You may kneel,” a familiar figure said.
There were two of them, and Rafe was sure none of them was a shadow clone.
“Hey, guys. How's it going?”
“Why do you look so sad?”
“Are you not excited to see me again? You were grinning like an idiot the last time.”
“An idiot who beat your ass,” Rafe smirked in her direction.
“Oh, you want to have a go at it, punk?” one of the soul remnants said, cracking her knuckles as she made to step forward.
“Stop, Sam. You are an embarrassment to us all. How could you lose to a snort-nosed brat?”
“Hey what is your problem with me?” the one who'd stepped forward said, turning to glare at herself.
“My problem is everything about you. Your face, your name, your bland clothing. Your whole empress of the night vibe.”
“We are literally the same person.”
“The same person cannot come all the way from her own trial just to get an opportunity to meet the boy before I do! You stole my thunder.”
“Stealing thunder is what we do, girl?”
“Not from ourselves.”
“Says you! I've never carried out a more thrilling heist than when darling Enith snuck me in here and into the trial. It was glorious, getting past you like the little chump you are.”
“Shit! Enith, that little void monster. What was she up to, helping Noid like this?”
“She said it was to help the children,” the one who'd apparently sneaked into the trial said.
Her other self did not answer for a while, seemingly lost in deep consideration. As one, they whirled to study Rafe, their expressions stiff and suspicious. They both froze when they saw the boy's pained smile though.
“Seriously, what is the matter with you?”
“It's just…you're not my master. And perhaps we are not going to train together for the next six months, but I just might miss you the most when I leave.”
The twins blinked and reeled back a little. Then they looked at each other, their eyes meeting under their shadow veils.
“That is…so sweet of you to say,” the true denizen of the trial spoke first.
“I knew we had a connection,” the other spoke, even as she rushed forward to hug him.
He let her, let himself get lost in that embrace for a while. The second one joined them too.
“Speaking of missing people,” now that he'd admitted it to himself. “What d’you guys reckon will happen to the trial I was in? The people?”
“Oh, that?” the two gods looked at each other over his head.
In his human body, he was still shorter than them at the moment.
“Well, I guess it will depend on the enchantress and whatever… Wait! What is that? Why do I smell a blessing on you?”
“A blessing?” The other asked as she took to sniffing like a dog. “Oh? Oh!”
“So that was her plan? To have us waste our gift like this?”
“That cannot be it, can it? What if she is manipulating us into getting angry, into trying to go after her? What if she is puppeteering our every move? We need to think things through first, Sam.”
“Forget thinking. We can't let our boy go into this threat blind. We’ll have to live our fantasy of robbing the enchantress blind through him.”
“Your boy?” Rafe couldn't help but ask.
He did like their little comedy routine a little. He did like them in general. He had no intention of becoming a shadow dueler though. Not now or ever.
“Yes, you're ours too. It's too bad Noid already claimed you, but well, you were his first. We only have one gift for you, besides the obvious that is.”
“The obvious? And aren't you only supposed to give me one gift unless I did something to deserve the second.”
“We have to hide your blessing, of course. Do you not know how much grief that will cause you outside?”
“And you gave plenty to deserve the second gift. You're ours, to start. You stole our heart. Any thief's good in our book, and you defeated me. Gave me a new appreciation for violence.”
“And there are two of us anyway. Two remnants, two gifts.”
“Now, for the first gift.”
You have gained the ability Shadow Monarch's Veil. You can hide your status information. Proficiency increases with skill level. Price reduced with skill level. (Set to Rare) (lvl. Maxed out)
“Level maxed out? What does that mean? Isn't the maximum level for a rare skill just seventy-five? And set to rare?”
Nor that maximum levels mattered to him at all.
“What is to explain? It is a skill too high tier for your current soul. Remember that one level at a high enough tier could be the equivalent of thousands of levels at a low tier.”
“This is a legendary skill?” Rafe couldn't help but ask.
The two gods exchanged glances.
“Legendary?” one asked.
“How cute.”
“No,” they said in unison as they stared at him.
“For one thing, the system would never censor a legendary skill even if your soul could not handle it,” one of them continued.
“Then who censored this for me?”
“You have to ask that?” they both cocked their brows.
“Well then what rarity is it? And how?”
“Pointless questions at the moment. You did say we couldn't spend any time together, right? Well lucky you. We have to teach you at least how to disguise your status and level a little.”
“But I have to ask,” the second one said, “why is there such unrest in your soul? It's like you have an ability that is yet to settle into anything…”
“An ability? Oh, you mean my E-rank racial ability?” Rafe frowned. “It awakened early and even contributed to the creation of my pseudo-class skill mimic.”
“So that's what that weird little thing in your soul is?” the first shadow mistress asked. “What does this…pseudo-class skill do?”
“I can't find out until I get my main class. Liam was of the view it might help me copy spells or something. His ability from the librarian helped him copy whole affinities but …”
“Yes, your ability can't be as good as his. So he gave you the librarian? And the innate ability?”
“I did get Eye of the void Sage instead of the All seeing eye of the Sage. And it's a racial ability now.”
“And the limitations?” the second mistress asked.
For some reason, they were so focused right now it was disturbing. They were both looking at him so intently and under their cowls, he could see their eyes widening with his every word.
“My precognition is pretty limited, in that it only triggers when it wants to. My sphere of perception is so small it's not more than a few inches from my body, although that's just the safest distance. I could probably widen it but that requires a lot of concentration to control. Oh, and I can't see my soul or anything.”
“Figured,” one of them said, but they didn't elaborate.
They kept looking at him for a few uncomfortable moments. Then slowly, ever so slowly, they turned to face each other.
“There was no way she predicted this. It's just…not possible. This is too perfect.”
“Well, if she did predict it, then she knows us too well,” the second Sam grumbled.
Rafe was uncomfortable, and watching them shoot furtive glances his way while they muttered about millenia-old plans and conspiracies had him getting worried. He cleared his throat, trying to change the atmosphere in the room.
“Hey, what did you mean about the blessing being an inconvenience?” he asked.
“Skyholm is not the most prestigious faction in the multiverse,” one said, rolling her shoulder.
“They'd be on you like a pack of rabid dogs. We've lost many of our trial's products because of all the hate, you know?”
“Haters,” the other said.
“Word.”
“And Noid's blessing is stronger than the ones we've been handing out lately. It will shine like the sun to anyone looking.”
“Or a beacon in the night,” the other commented.
“I see.”
“So then, shall we start?” they said in unison, smiling at him brightly under their hoods.
