DT4 - Chapter 19
DT4 - Chapter 19
On quiet feet, she slipped over to the door and carefully eased it open, peeking through the crack into what should have been her office. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw something else entirely. It was a wide hall with tall pillars that rose until they vanished into the mist that hung above the chamber. The ground was formed from gleaming stone that seemed to shift and change under her eyes. At one moment, it was simple flagstone, and the next, it transformed into wondrous mosaic patterns. Long banners hung between each of the pillars, their tops invisible, fluttering lightly in a breeze that Gero couldn't feel. In front of each banner was a high-backed chair, with mysterious symbols carved in the center.
"Come in," the solemn voice pulled at Gero's heart.
In a trance, she opened the door and stepped into the large hall. She counted a dozen chairs, six on each side, leading up to a dais where a twenty-five-foot-high golden throne appeared. A massive figure sat in it, whose features couldn't be distinguished, and whose every motion carried a mysterious meaning that left Gero's mind trembling. A few of the high-backed chairs also had figures in them, though each was blurry and impossible for Gero to make out. Convinced that this must be a dream, Gero looked around with wonder.
"Approach."
The next thing she knew, Gero was standing in front of the dais, looking up at the massive giant on the throne. The longer she stared, the more mysterious the figure seemed. Every shift of the giant's body caused myriad colors to spring to life and swirl around the throne, but strangely, Gero couldn't feel any sort of pressure. It was as if the figure in front of her didn't exist.
"Thank you for answering my summons," the giant said, his words echoing, filling the hall.
"Who are you?"
As soon as she asked the question, Gero blanched, but the giant didn't seem to take offense.
"I am the Dreamer on the Throne," he said, his voice solemn, "and I have come to see if you are worthy of an opportunity."
With a wave of his hand, the giant caused the mist around the chairs to pull back, allowing Gero to see their true appearance, and more importantly, who sat on them. The closer to the giant's throne, the more ornate the chairs were, and the more impressive the banners that hung behind them. Staring as she looked around, Gero's eyes narrowed when she caught sight of a number of people she recognized.
The two seats closest to the throne were empty, but the seats in the second position were both full. One was a mysterious-looking woman whose hair hung over her face, giving the wide smile revealed behind it a chilling feeling. Across from her sat Cynen, Death's Flame, who stared at Gero through the band that covered her eyes. The next set of chairs were occupied as well, and Gero recognized Garrett's figure immediately, despite the fact that he was wearing a red mask with a flower on it. The other chairs were occupied by individuals wearing that same mask, and a few of them gave Gero a familiar sense, as if able to sense the hostility that rose in her heart when she saw her enemies. The giant chuckled, his voice pulling Gero's attention back to the front of the room.
"There is a world beyond the world you see, a place where battles are fought on a scale you cannot even begin to imagine. It is here that I would invite you, to serve as one of my generals, to carry out my will in the dream."
Despite Gero's initial impulse to deny him outright, she considered the giant's words. Like every single one of the ten seat holders, Gero was ambitious. After all, how else would she have built the Ebony Association into what it was, without ambition? The giant remained silent, waiting for her to speak. And when she did, it wasn't a rejection, but instead a question.
"If I were to join you, what would I get?"
Gero got the impression that the giant was smiling at her, and his response seemed to prove it.
"One of the things I appreciate about you is your courage," the giant said, "but you would do well to add a bit of respect to your tone."
When he said the word "respect," Gero felt the room change, as an unimaginable power locked onto her soul, promising to crush her in an instant, if she did not do as she was told. The feeling was gone almost as fast as it came, but it left Gero gasping for breath, her face pale, her eyes wide.
"Do not misunderstand me," the giant continued, in the same pleasant tone. "I do not prefer to win others over through coercion. But should you deny me the respect I deserve, I will end you in an instant. Now, to the benefits. After all, any position of responsibility should come with equal reward. The first is protection. Protection from threats beyond what your mortal mind can comprehend. Protection from powers you have no way of combating."
The giant appeared to gesture a swirl of color, tracing his movement. Glancing over her shoulder, Gero saw that he was pointing at Garrett. Immediately, she understood. This was the being who had saved Garrett, bringing him safely out of the inescapable trap she had sent him into. Just this alone was enough for Gero to consider joining, as she had been secretly terrified that what she had done to Garrett, he would in return do to her. After all, the fact that he had escaped from Kabod's Maze seemed to indicate that he knew how to use the device, which had forced her to be on her guard every waking moment.
"But that isn't all," the giant continued, as if oblivious to her turmoil. "If you serve me, you will find opportunity to grow in strength, beyond what you know possible. You believe yourself to be at the top, to be unmatched in your level of power. But you have no idea of the truth of this world. Beyond the mortal coil lie powers you could never fathom, powers that can shift the very fabric of reality."
As he spoke, the giant waved his hand, and suddenly, they were no longer in the hall, but instead on a mountaintop, overlooking a vast, rugged landscape. The giant's throne sat atop the peak, as if he were the ruler of the world. Turning around, Gero stared at the wondrous view, drawing in a deep breath of cold mountain air. As she blinked, the scene changed once more, returning to the stone hall. Yet she knew that what she had seen hadn't been a figment of her imagination, as she could still feel the cold air in her lungs.
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"With reward comes responsibility," the giant said, his voice still light. "And what I offer you is true responsibility. Those I have gathered in this place serve me in various roles, and have varying degrees of influence. To you, I would offer a special role, the role of Chosen."
Turning around to face the giant once more, Gero saw him flick his finger, and something flew up from one of the empty chairs nearest to the throne. It was a golden mask, completely smooth, save for two holes for her eyes. Marked on it was a five-petaled flower, dyed in the colors of the rainbow.
"A chosen is a direct representative, imbued with a fraction of the power I wield."
The mask was cool to her touch, and as Gero stared down at it, she could feel a faint sense of weight, almost as if the mask contained a bit of that pressure she had felt a few minutes earlier.
"If I accept this position," Gero said, after a moment of thought, "will I be under them?"
Seeing her gesture to Cynen and Garret, the giant chuckled, his voice causing the banners to shake.
"No, the chosen bear a special position, but likewise, you will not be over them. Those who serve me are under but one, and over the uncountable mass. Each has their own role to play."
"Everyone has their own tasks, and while you may occasionally be asked to assist, you will not be under anyone save me." Truthfully, Gero didn't know what to think about all of this. She had never encountered anything like this in her life, and the thought of gaining access to greater power was appealing. At the same time, it would mean joining her enemies, which would come with a loss of face and the weakening of her gang.
As soon as the thought appeared, she realized that there would be a significant problem. After all, even if she accepted this mysterious figure's offer, it was unlikely that all of her men would be willing to follow her as well. They were currently geared up for a war against the Klein family, and potentially even the Grave Walker gang.
"I am not an unreasonable ruler," the giant said, giving Gero the impression that she had been seen through, "and so I will give you a demonstration of my power. Should you wish to accept my offer, simply place the mask on your face. I will give you a week. If you have not made your decision by then, I will make your decision for you."
With those ominous words, the dream ended, and Gero sat up in her bed, a lingering pressure causing her lungs to constrict. It was dark in the room, and as she fumbled for her swords, her hand touched something cool and smooth, causing her to freeze. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she gazed down and caught sight of a faint golden gleam. The mask the mysterious figure had given her in the dream was now sitting next to her on the bed.
What she couldn't see was Garrett standing next to her bed in the dream, just out of arm's reach. This was the second step in Garrett's plan, and one that was a huge gamble. Ever since he had gained the dream ruler class, he had been given the opportunity to appoint two Chosen. These were beings who would gain a fraction of his power, growing with him as he grew, and in return, with the authority the position granted, they would have some control over his forces, making it possible for him to delegate tasks and have them carry them out on his behalf.
Additionally, the Chosen could act as his eyes and ears, and he could communicate with them across any distance. In reality, Garrett didn't actually need the positions, as next to all of the benefits that such a position brought could be replicated via the dream flowers. The problem was that he wasn't yet strong enough to plant dream seeds in Shaper Stage Awakened. He would have much preferred simply taking Gero over with dream flowers, ensuring her undying loyalty. But in lieu of that, this was his next best option, attempting to lure her in to work for him, promising her benefits, and aligning her interests with his.
Garrett wasn't naive enough to believe that the sight of the mask in the waking world would be enough to convince her, which is why it was time to begin Stage 3. As he doubted Gero would get any more sleep that night, Garrett left, leaving Isabelle to lurk nearby as he returned to the inn. Constructing the dream and all of the characters in it had taken a tremendous toll on Garrett, and when he finally made it back to his room, he collapsed into bed, quickly falling asleep.
He was so exhausted, he didn't wake until well after breakfast, when Ryn knocked on his door to check on him. It was clear from the look on her face that she wasn't actually concerned about him, but instead was bursting with excitement and really wanted to share some news that she had heard.
"Garrett, you would not believe this," she said, pacing back and forth as he blinked at her sleepily from his bed. "Do you know that swamp rot epidemic that has been going around? Well, it just got worse, way worse. There have been four hot spots in our district, but there are rumors that it's even hit the nobles."
Slowly, Garrett pulled himself into a sitting position and gestured towards his dresser. Without missing a beat, Ryn opened the drawers and grabbed him a shirt, even as she continued to talk.
"They tried to hush it up, but apparently it's just been getting worse and worse. It got so bad that they had to call in the exorcists to investigate, fearing that it was some sort of curse. You would never believe what they found. It's not a curse at all. There's something wrong with..."
Ryn suddenly paused, her excited expression transforming through half a dozen emotions in rapid succession before settling into complete shock as she lifted a trembling finger to point at Garrett.
"There's something wrong with Parrow's soap," Garrett finished helpfully as he shrugged out of his nightgown and slipped on his shirt. "Is that what you were going to say?"
"You, how did, oooh..." Even as she asked the questions, Ryn's mind put together all of the pieces, finally understanding what the giant pit Garrett had constantly been talking about actually was.
"You know, it's not hard to make soap," Garrett said, "but one does have to be careful about what they put into the mixture."
Sliding himself into his chair, Garrett had Ryn, who was still in complete shock, wheel him into his office. Once there, he got out a slip of paper and handed it to her.
"This is a recipe. Please bring it to Carraway and have him begin producing soap as fast as possible using it."
Reaching over the desk, Ryn took the note, glancing at it, and then shaking her head. "This was why we went to visit all those alchemists, right? When you were asking about swamp rot."
"Correct. When Parrow took our production methods, he also took our material. Material that has a specific component that I wanted to test to see if it would work for improving the texture and lather of the soap. Unfortunately, Avernus weed extract reacts poorly with tobacco and a number of other things. The result being that anyone who uses Parrow's fine soap will likely find themselves breaking out with swamp rot, no matter how many times they go to the healers. Thankfully, there's a neutralizing agent, which is in the recipe you're holding. It is of vital importance that you have Carraway personally take samples of the soap to all of those who are suffering from swamp rot. A few days of use should eliminate the oil from the Avernus weed from their skin, after which it'll only be a matter of days until they heal."
"Won't Parrow guess what we did?" Ryn asked, her eyes bright.
"He can guess all he wants," Garrett said, a slow smile creeping across his face. "But when we went to warn him that what we were producing in his factory wasn't actually tested, he refused to see us."
"I'm glad I'm on this side," Ryn said abruptly. And then, with a laugh, she ran out of the room, clearly excited to deliver the recipe to Carraway.
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