New Eden: Live to Play, Play to Live



"But this is now why I brought you here. You are here so that I can tell you the mage's guild will no longer be causing trouble for you. The matter with Argos Thornwood is to be shelved, indefinitely. I previous accord stands and your barriers will stay under our purview," Aravelle declared, clearing his mind of the thoughts from the distant past.

Astaroth snapped out of his musings, nodding his head in satisfaction.

"And if we ever expand once more?"

Aravelle waved his hand dismissively.

"You could expand this city a hundred times. It wouldn't matter. Our help will be there as long as you don't act against us. I will ensure this personally."

This satisfied Astaroth very much.

There was no telling when the next update would come, and how long it would spell for inside New Eden. He needed to be sure that when they came back, the city still stood.

And with Aravelle's word, he had this certitude.

"Also," Aravelle started speaking again.

"I will be injecting a considerable amount of Aether into the Ley lines from underneath your palace. I believe you know from where, and I would appreciate it if no one goes near there when I am at work. The nature of power transference is a bit… unstable."

Astaroth frowned at the request.

"How will we know when we can or cannot go down?" he asked.

Aravelle smiled snidely.

"I'm sure your perfect mana sense will allow you to know. And anyone with even a slight perception of mana will feel it as well. So you best make sure someone who can tell guards the entrance to the underground commune."

Before Astaroth could argue that this was easier said than done, Aravelle snapped his fingers, and Astaroth disappeared from the room.

Aravelle looked at the empty sofa before a plume of black smoke exited from his right hand.

The smoke swirled forward, reaching the sofa, and transformed into a humanoid creature with fair skin and patches of black scales, curled horns adorning the side of his head.

"Rare of you to exit the confines of my body, Shegror. How are you faring these days?"

The humanoid dragon looked at Aravelle and smiled softly. His skin was a sickly colour, but it otherwise looked healthy.

"I'm feeling well today. The soul shard I parted with, so many centuries ago, has reconnected to me earlier today. And it seems his end of the deal is finally coming into effect. I can feel my strength already rising, if slowly."

Aravelle snickered.

"I had never thought a proud being like you would have parted with a piece of its soul, especially to someone so weak in comparison."

Shegror clicked his tongue.

"He had me in a tough spot, and I couldn't make him leave. It wasn't exactly willingly, that I parted with it. I asked for a high price in return, though. But since he wasn't from that time, I'm assuming the price was not to be paid until he returned to his own place in time."

"Yes. I am quite curious. What did you ask for?"

"I asked for one percent of his power, in constant supply, forever. He said yes. I was expecting a trickle from such an inferior being. But I felt a surge, earlier. Like he had suddenly become incredibly more powerful. But it barely lasted."

Aravelle squinted at the words. He knew exactly what moment Shegror was talking about.

"You mean to say the young man accepted to transfer one percent of his power forever? That seems like a losing deal for him. Permanently reducing your mana by one percent can lead to an astronomical portion, in the long run."

But thinking back on the kid, it did not surprise Aravelle that he had said yes.

"I doubt he even considered one percent to be enough. I'm sure you could have asked for more," he commented.

But Shegror shook his head.

"I doubt he would have accepted. I was considerably weaker than him at the moment we made the deal. He knew that. I could feel him resist the urge to kill me and take the entire soul."

Aravelle looked at Shegror with a tinge of anger.

"I wouldn't have let that happen. You know that."

"Hah! I doubt you could have done anything, at the time. You were weakened, and I could feel he was still hiding some of his strength."

Aravelle raised an eyebrow.

"You think he would have beaten me? A progenitor of magic? Even in a weakened state, that would be infinitely difficult for a person at his level. I don't believe he could have."

Shegror chuckled.

"When the soul shard reconnected with me, I saw something. A memory. Of him, taking down Mel'gaz. A Colonel of the demon army."

Aravelle became pensive.

"A Colonel, you say. I think I would have held my own against a colonel, even in that state. But how did he stand against one at all? He doesn't hold that kind of power."

"I can see inside him. He doesn't have that power directly. But his powers are very much like yours. He has allies within himself. Powerful allies. And he bears the mark of royalty."

Aravelle had always refused to take up the title of royalty, even when the elves asked for him to become their king, millennia ago. He didn't want to tie himself down back then.

He knew it came with certain advantages, but he always knew that he would reach those same advantages on his own, with time.

But for someone weak like the boy, these advantages could mean the difference between heaven and earth.

But, still. Taking down a colonel of the demon lord's army…

That was no small feat. Even with help, for a person at Astaroth's level, it was like an ant killing an elephant.

"This young man will someday become a problem for whoever is against him. I only wish he uses his power for the good of the mortal realm. One more powerful enemy to kill is not what we need right now…" Aravelle muttered.