What a dreadful sight, really. A golem counting the beads on a necklace. Not really counting them, just passing them between his clay fingers, measuring the loose space left for barely one more, if that.
Once that space was filled, it would keep going. I would keep going. Past the point of pretense.
Because all I wanted was to absorb mana.
It had dawned on me after surviving the plains of Alunra how even the mightiest, in this decayed realm, was deluding himself. So I was no exception. All submitted to that one law of survival, to get magic no matter what myths we comforted ourselves with.
Those who didn't had long passed. I was still standing.
Around me the decay was worsening. The cave had dried out, its brittle stalactites breaking by themselves. Chitinous insects had become visible again, their ghostly spells exhausted. They hung on the walls, immobile, in small clumps like wild frescoes.
A few furry worms pretended to be stone. Rapts surviving the drought. All other life had long fled this place.
I relented, got up and passed the mad writings lacerated on the walls. Ignored those torn symbols that stretched through the tunnel and only exhausted themselves at the balcony.
The flat, cold platform had roughed up into a rocky peak from which a dry desert of rock and sand stretched under eternal dusk.
Oh yeah, there was ice under my clay feet.
Just a bit of frost that encroached on the stone, giving it a light blue taint where it didn't immediately melt. A bit of life that resisted with me, that would trail and follow my movements, trace circles where I spinned.
I stopped and let it all fade again. Once more my hand came clutching the beads at my neck.
Come to me, humans!
The moment I began the ritual, dusk turned to darkness. The whole mount behind me, the whole drowned dungeon vanished. Even the rocky ground barely remained. Magic circles formed under me, glowing wild, almost alit. A small one inside and a larger one around.
Here I summoned my void armor. The heavy plates appeared from time and fixed themselves all over, coated in their appealing silver. I put the badger helmet in place myself, then opened my arms wide to the darkness.
"Come, masters of the realm! Come feed this ravenous land! Lay down your lives and offer yourselves as sacrifice!"
Human voices emerged in myriads, a maelstrom of faint rumors that I had long stopped listening to. Hundreds of tiny lights, buzzing specks filled the obscurity. Thousands, an endless sea of them.
They heckled. They complained. They mocked. They lamented.
"Monsters yearn for your taste! Let us devour you slowly, gently, piece by piece. Come and join the decay! Magic will grind you inexorably, who among you wishes to experience its touch? It is a kind, motherly caress of death."
Yes, I was rambling to my cold, stone heart's content, and it was chasing those lights away. Off-putting to those humans, surprisingly.
But in this ritual, feigned words only brought forth the craven, those who never crossed. I had done this too many times to be anything but brutally genuine. What I said mattered less than honesty. To connect, beyond meaning, with those willing to take the leap.
None would so far. It could be done in minutes or take days, all per humans' whims.
"Are you afraid? Are you scared? You the mighty, the invincible! Come and kill! Come and play! We will humor you either way until your last breath!"
"So cold..." - "They wouldn't lie!" - "Falling, falling..."
So far, it had taken a couple hours. Not that time mattered. Time was magic and magic meant little at the edge of a haven.
"Don't you want riches? Don't you want slaves? To plant, to build, to conquer! It is effortless! All the ruins are yours and all the scroungers in it! Come toy with the vermin!"
"Those eyes?" - "What do I want..."
"Come, one of you! One of you will! You always do! What kind of cattle are you to so resist the slaughterhouse?! Isn't that what you are for? Your specialty?!"
They were approaching. While the sea of lights kept receding from my words, wheezing, frantic, dozens came closer, brighter, to fly hesitantly and hover out of reach. Their voices dominated. They were full of scorn and apathy.
Of anger. Blind, sizzling anger.
My own voice was starting to echo them.
"You were meant to save us! You were supposed to be heroes to be lauded! The best of mankind imposing your will on the realm! And now look at you! Conquerors quivering in a shelter! Where has our savior gone!?"
"Always the same." - "Don't judge me!" - "My will!" - "Enough!"
"I want to help."
A half-dozen lights, like wisps, were at arm's reach but this one had come closest, face to face with my badger helmet. I nearly stepped back. It hovered confusedly.
"You want to help? Is that a joke? What can you even do against the mana drain?"
"I want to help!"
Its voice had practically crossed already. It was so close as to blind me. I knew it would be him and just kept talking, to talk because my voice more than my sight was guiding him through.
"Stop lying! All you want is fame, wealth, strength, prestige! Not a single soul cares about the realm, not even me!"
"Let me help!"
He had dashed through my helmet, through my clay head and to the other side where his silhouette was already taking shape. Darkness to light as the overwhelming tidal wave of magic surged and obliterated the ground, erased the void armor like smoke and pressed on my plates.
When reality came back, it was nighttime. The stars had not yet appeared, leaving the small moon alone in the sky.
The platform was back, lit by blue lamps on the guardrail. Its moonstone slab covered the ice under and was tied with frosty chains to the mountain. The lair's entrance had regained its arch.
And here was the human, feeling the cold, with just worn down pants and shoes on him.
A circle tattooed on his chest.
Black tan, black eyes and black hair so short as to show the skin. He had a heavy nose on his narrow face and a jaw still young, seventeen if I had to guess. A teenager whose surprise was morphing into feigned confidence.
He whistled, looked around and found the silver armor standing a few steps behind him, with a badger helmet sure to please his sight. Still as a statue.
Usually I would let humans move first, but I already had a good read on him. A straightforward approach would work best.
"Welcome to the realm, human."
"Nzinga!" He corrected.
"Welcome, Nzinga. You must have questions."
"Nah, I'm good! Let's get rolling!"
Said the teenager who tapped his arms against the cold. I was positive he had no idea where he even was.
"This is a magical land your ancestors left long ago. It is suffering from a mana drain..."
"What's your name?"
So he had questions after all.
"I am Kaele."
"Look, Kaele, how about we skip the history lesson and get down to business? I got to wake up early tomorrow."
"You are stuck here and will die within a month."
He stopped stretching, looked at me and after a few seconds, when my words finally sank enough, he put his hand behind his head.
"Is that all?!" He laughed it off. "Enough gloom, I'm freezing my butt here! You brought me here for a reason so spell it out!"
"No, that's about it. The realm is all yours, you have a month, enjoy it. Come, it's late, I will prepare a bed for you."
"Wait wait wait!" He stopped me. "Slow down, you brought me here for nothing?"
"I didn't want you to come, you chose to."
This false truth would have to do. He finally relented and let me lead him inside, through the glassy hallways and cristalline rooms. I knew the insects were still there. Those caparaces were spying, biding their time.
But for now all looked pristine and quiet. We passed through the living room where he diverted to plunge on a divan head first.
That was not a bed.
But he sprawled all over the cushions, half of his body about to fall over, and just lazed there.
"Oh yeah, I think I'm gonna love it here! You guys don't have TV? No?"
"I can improvise a puppet theater." I offered.
Of course he had just been, how to say it, marking his territory. Defiantly holding on to this new reality. But still, that theater thing sparked his interest.
So I moved my wrist and the frost started to swirl in the room.
He watched, a bit excited, as characters took shape, objects and landscapes flowing in front of his eyes. It was an improvised piece I called the end of the realm.
He watched mighty humans panic as a mana drain devoured everything. He watched them craft a sphere in which to hide and then, the realm decay without them. He watched monsters hunt monsters.
There was no sound but magic had its own way of conveying everything.
Next was a skeletal wyvern clawing at the sphere furiously, seeking to eat all inside. And a worm, a void monster that sought to sap the entire realm of all mana.
And then, there was a hero.
A human that came back and tried to save the realm. A faceless human that had left this fateful shelter and endured the drought, and fought monsters, and uncovered secrets. A single human that survived all and everything and never faltered.
And at the end of the story, the human triumphed, struck the mana drain with a sword and saved everyone. The piece ended with the human shelter opening and the hero welcoming everyone back.
The frost faded to nothing.
The human was speechless for a time, then scowled.
"What happened to the bone dragon? It was gnawing at the eight ball and then boom! Gone!"
"You will meet him soon enough."
"Meet hi- Wait a second!" He got up and pointed at the room. "This was real?! All of this happened?"
"Are you sure you don't prefer a bed?"
"Aw man!"
He approached, laughing, slapped my armored arm and then rolled his arm around my neck.
"You had me wrapped around your fingers the whole time! Ah! I must look like a little kid to you!"
Partly. His defiant insecurity was definitely childish. Still trying to keep control no matter what. But I could tell he was listening and playing the buffoon to disarm others. He was used to conflicts.
"What about the heroic part? That also happened?"
"A hero did come. Then failed. Then died."
My helmet turned away from him. He let go, confused.
"There is no stopping the mana drain. Feel free to try. I have long given up."
No one could create mana. No one could destroy it. The drain went against a core principle of magic. It was fighting the realm itself and there was nothing to stab.
Okay technically...
"Alright!" The teenager punched the palm of his hand. "I'm all pumped up now! An impossible job and thirty days to save magic land! Watch me clear this in record time!"
"... Your bed is this way."
"Oy, you're not listening! Forget sleep, it's history time! Blast me with all the details, I can take it!"
I could really not tell if he was serious or just saving face, but if that was how he desired to waste his life, I would not stop him.
As for me, I had noticed a troubling detail.
This whole time, no matter how much I had observed him, his every move, his every breath, he had not once glanced to the side. Not one distracted look at seemingly nothing. It was long past due for him to notice it and yet, nothing.
Could it be that this human had no system?