Victor of Tucson

When Victor stepped out of Florent’s strange, crackling black portal, he felt the mountain before he saw it. It was like being a little kid and standing in the shadow of a giant. The presence was heavy, though Iron Mountain was just passively being; it wasn’t trying to crush him with the weight of its aura, nor was it filled with any palpable rage like the volcano under Hector’s base had been. Still, Victor hadn’t felt that sense of insignificance since he’d been to the Ivid world to meet their queen.

As he adjusted to the weight of the mountain’s presence, he looked around and got his bearings. His palace and the town of Iron Mountain were north of the mountain’s slopes, and, turning to look that way, he could see a long, wide road leading away into the thick forest canopy; he wasn’t high enough on the slope to see beyond the trees. Victor turned to see the road continue into the mountain’s foothills, branching off to the east and west several times before winding out of sight behind craggy ridges.

The mountain rose into the sky, further than he could see, the peak lost to the hazy mists of the upper atmosphere. From his palace, he hadn’t realized how the foothills of Iron Mountain were, in reality, mountains themselves. Even standing among them, well aware of their size, they seemed tiny simply because of the enormous, craggy gray peak that loomed over them. Still, now that they were close, Victor realized they had a good deal of hiking to do if they wanted to get onto the mountain proper.

“Gods!” Feist said, taking his helmet off to get a better view. “Never seen the place up close. That’s a hell of a mountain!”

“Calm yourself, Feist,” Bryn sighed. She looked at Victor and shrugged sheepishly. “Apologies for my squire’s boisterous nature, milord.”

“You kidding me? I don’t mind; he’s right!”

With a crackling woosh, Florent stepped through his portal, and it snapped shut, disappearing in a wave of sizzling silver sparks. He looked at Victor and then gestured to the cobbled roadway. “I chose this location because, according to my guide at the time, the branching roads lead to different mine entrances, but if you stay on this main path, you’ll eventually come to the Temple of the Elements.”

“That’s where the fire and earth Elementalists live?” Bryn asked, saving Victor the trouble.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Does that go for me too,” Feist asked, and Bryn cuffed him on the back of the head.

“Don’t embarrass yourself!”

Victor chuckled but didn’t comment. He turned up the road and started hiking. The grade was steep, but his long Quinametzin strides devoured it. As he went, he reached into his pathways and severed the connection to his Alter Self spell, expanding to his true height. It took Bryn a few minutes before she gave him a double-take. “Did you grow?”

“Yeah,” Victor chuckled. “The egg brought out more of my bloodline.” He glanced up and down the quiet road, watching Feist and Florent bring up the rear. When they were close, he asked, “Where’s the railway?”

Florent responded, “For the ore? A dozen tracks meander through these canyons and up the slopes to the various mines. They converge near the base and take a parallel course to this road further down near the forest.”

Bryn looked at Victor, and he could tell she was wondering about his plan. “Should we stop at one of the outposts and get a guide?”

Victor shook his head. “I know it seems strange, but I’m, uh, following a feeling. I can tell the mountain wants something from me.”

“I imagined we’d go to the temple and ask the Order for guidance.”

Victor shook his head. “I don’t think they can help me.” He turned and started walking again.

Bryn kept pace beside him, her armor clanking as she walked. “Why?”

“It’s just a feeling.” Victor laughed at her frustrated scowl. “I know, it’s irritating. I don’t know how to explain it. I’m just going to follow my instincts ‘cause something is pulling or pushing me toward…something in this mountain.” 𝑅�

Bryn just nodded and put her head down, digging into the steep upward climb. Victor could hear Florent and Feist behind him, and though Florent wasn’t the sturdiest-looking man he’d ever seen, Victor knew there was no way a guy past level one hundred could possibly struggle with any sort of hike. As the minutes ticked by and they climbed hundreds of feet in elevation, Victor often thought about summoning Guapo and making quick work of the ascent, at least until they came to trails or tunnels that made it impractical. Something about having the mountain under his feet was satisfying, though, and he rather enjoyed the vigorous exercise in the mountain air.

He didn’t doubt that the others could summon mounts or other means of quick travel, but they didn’t mention it, which gave Victor another sort of satisfaction—these three were following his lead and doing so without any real question or objection. It was something he’d taken for granted lately, likely ever since the campaign for the Untamed Marches. He’d become accustomed to leading to the point where it didn’t faze him.

They passed many iron signposts denoting different shafts or other locales on the mountain, from outposts to an occasional homestead. After passing a sign next to a rocky trail that read “Yarrow Keep,” Bryn commented, “I didn’t know anyone lived up here.”

“Nor I,” Florent huffed from behind them.

Victor shrugged. “I’ll ask about it back at the palace, but I imagine there have been land grants up here over the years. We’re talking a hell of a lot of acreage surrounding this peak.”

After a few grunts of agreement, they walked in silence for a while, their huffing breaths accompanied by the sounds of nature—birds singing, canines yipping in the distance, and the occasional yowl of a big cat. When they came to a crossroad on the main trail with a narrow path leading off to the right at a downward slope and another to the left that seemed to climb a sheer cliff face carved into the stone by some Elementalist in the distant past, Victor felt a change in the mountain’s pull.

When he stopped, Bryn took a few steps and then turned back to face him. “Resting?”

“No. I think we need to go that way.” Victor pointed to the trail that climbed the rocky face to the left.

“Narrow,” Florent grunted, leaning on his slender black staff. He scanned the cliff and pointed, directing Victor’s gaze upward. “It switchbacks a dozen times before it curves out of sight up there. I could shorten our climb by portaling us to the top.”

Victor’s eyes widened. “You can do that?”

“Of course! If I can see it, I can make a portal to it. It’s a costly spell with a long cooldown, but it’s different from the one that I used to bring us to the mountain. That one requires me to create an anchor, meaning I have to physically be at the location before I can create a portal to it in the future.”

“Well, shit. I don’t see why we can’t cheat a little; there’s nowhere to get off that trail, so l don’t think we’ll miss anything.”

Florent nodded, then, gazing up toward the distant, faint track of the cliffside trail, he thumped his staff on the hard, cobbled roadway. Victor felt a surge of potent Energy, and then, with a sizzling, tearing sound, a black portal opened in the air before him. “Go,” Florent grunted.

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Victor stepped through first, and just as when he’d taken the portal from his palace to the mountain, he felt a brief sensation of coldness. Then, he stepped out onto the narrow, stony pathway. He took a few steps, making room for the others, then took a moment to look down at his ant-like companions on the roadway below. “That saved some time,” he muttered as Bryn emerged from the portal and hurried toward him.

Everyone was on the new path a few seconds later, and Victor led the way around the stony escarpment. The drop to his left was dizzying, but it didn’t bother him much; Victor figured he’d probably be able to land on his feet by activating Titanic Leap, and even if he couldn’t, he didn’t think a fall would kill him, even thousands of feet down onto rough, jagged boulders. There was a lot to be said for having an epic-tier vitality and a titanic constitution.

The trail, carved out of the stone of the cliffside, continued deep into a narrow canyon between the side of Iron Mountain and a nearby “foothill,” which was larger than any of the mountains Victor had visited around Tucson. They followed it for hours, steadily climbing higher, and when it wound around again, heading straight up a new canyon—a natural split in Iron Mountain’s shoulder—the sky had grown dark, and the sun was a distant memory.

Before climbing into the new canyon, Victor gestured to the relatively flat, stony area on which they stood and asked, “Does anyone need to rest?”

Florent stepped forward, his face a little flushed but his breathing regular and unstrained. “Unless you intend to make camp, I would rather press on. No sense delaying the inevitable.”

“I’m fine,” Feist added.

Victor looked at Bryn, and she simply gestured with her hand, pointing toward the trail. He nodded, grinning, and continued to hike. The moon and stars provided plenty of light for Victor’s eyes, and he led them deep into the canyon, always following the ever-present tug at his Core or his heart or his spirit—he didn’t know exactly what part of him was being pulled, but he felt it. By midnight, they’d passed two forks in the path, climbed another thousand feet, and traversed two rocky ridgelines.

When they crossed the second one, Victor stood and looked back to the north, over the vast, dark sea of the forest, and sure enough, he could see the distant lights of the town. Bryn stood beside him and sighed, wiping some sweat from her brow. “We’re pretty damn high, Your Grace.”

Victor clapped her on the shoulder. “I like the way you talk, Bryn.”

“Thank you for not insisting I be polite.”

Victor had to laugh at the idea and, shaking his head, turned and continued to climb. Two hours later, Florent called out, “I see a cave!”

Victor had a habit of watching the trail in front of his feet, looking for stones to step on and ensuring he didn’t slip on loose scree. When Florent called out, he looked back to see where the man pointed, and sure enough, about a mile up the canyon and on the other side, he saw the oblong crescent of pitch-black darkness that stood out among the starlit boulders. When his eyes settled on the opening, Victor felt the pull with renewed intensity, and he simply knew that was where he was meant to go. “That’s it,” he grunted.

“Shall I create a portal, or would you like to progress on this trail?”

Victor let his gaze drift back to the stony path, following it up the canyon with his eyes. He could see that it probably wrapped around the canyon to the far side further up, but if they could skip that hike, it would save them hours. “Portal,” he grunted.

Florent nodded, then moved past Victor so he had more open space before him. He slammed his staff on the ground, and Victor felt a surge of Energy, and once again, Florent’s dark, crackling portal appeared. “After you, Your Grace.”

Victor brushed past him and stepped into the void hanging in the air. His foot came down on gray stone, and he stepped into the opening of a dark, dusty cave. While he waited for the others, he peered into the deep shadows, his Quinametzin eyes straining to pierce the dark. It looked like it went deep and descended rapidly. Standing there in the cave opening, he could feel something calling to him even more intensely.

There weren’t words or coherent thoughts associated with the call, but Victor was more and more sure that it was the mountain and not some other being. Perhaps his ancestors were aiding the call, allowing it to affect him more profoundly, but Victor felt like it was something in his blood—a kinship the mountain recognized. He couldn’t get any sense of emotion from the pull; it didn’t seem desperate or angry or hopeful. It was just a pull that said come, and something in Victor wanted to answer.

The sizzling crackle of Florent’s portal fading brought Victor’s mind back to the present, and he looked at his companions. “Anyone need rest?”

“Not I, Your Grace.” Feist thumped his breastplate with his gloved fist.

Victor chuckled at his enthusiasm but looked at Florent. “You’re good?”

“Fine, if a bit bored.”

“Well, maybe things will get more interesting in this cave.” Victor gathered some inspiration-attuned Energy and summoned his coyotes. As the shimmering silvery mist gathered on the cave floor and his five companions sprang into existence with yips and yowls, Victor laughed to see Bryn take a step back, her hand reaching for her sword. As he squatted to pet the cheerful canines, they swarmed him, licking and slobbering all over his face and neck. “All right, all right!”

“You’re a summoner?” Bryn asked, eyes wide. “You never used your pets in battle—”

Victor stood, and his cheerful demeanor turned into a glower as he stared at Bryn, Florent, and Feist. “You might see me do a few things in here that I’d rather the rest of Ruhn wasn’t aware of. Consider this mission and anything you witness to be a secret between us. Agreed?”

“Yes, milord!” Again Feist slammed his fist to his chest, and this time Bryn joined him, nodding and saluting.

Florent chuckled and nodded. “I’ve no one to share such things with, milord, but rest assured, you’ll have my secrecy.”

Victor nodded, then turned to his coyotes and clicked his tongue, jerking his thumb toward the tunnel. They cried and yowled in excitement as they took off, eager to be the first to discover something interesting for him. “They’ll scout,” he explained. As he started after the coyotes, Victor summoned a Globe of Insight, charging it until it blazed like a star in the air over his head. With that brilliant illumination, his eyes pierced the depths of the tunnel for a hundred feet or more, and he could see that it wound slightly to the right.

“Were those wolves, Lord Victor,” Feist asked from behind Bryn as they walked. “I’ve never heard such funny cries. It almost seems they were trying to talk.”

“Coyotes. They’re related to wolves but usually smaller. Mine are quite a bit bigger than natural ones. Coyotes are clever and brave, and they rely on each other to survive.” Victor could feel his companion spirits deep below them, racing ahead. He couldn’t see through their eyes but could get general sensations and emotions from them. It seemed they were still together; the tunnel hadn’t branched yet.

As they descended, the cave grew larger rather than smaller, and Victor found himself able to stand upright and take comfortable strides. He imagined that the people who’d carved the trail into the stony cliffs leading to the cave had probably been prospecting—looking for mineral deposits and whatnot—but this cave seemed natural, and Victor didn’t see any evidence of mining. “There wasn’t a sign by the trailhead leading here, was there?”

“No, milord,” Feist replied. Victor was starting to like the guy; he was quick-witted and eager.

“Doesn’t seem like any mining operation reached this tunnel, does it?” He looked over his shoulder, addressing the question to all three of his companions.

Florent shook his head. “I think not, milord.”

“Strange, don’t you think? That trail in the cliff face couldn’t have been easy to make.”

“On the contrary, milord,” Florent replied again, “for a powerful Earth Elementalist, it would be a few days' work at most. I’d say it's likely a noble in times past wanted to explore this cave and sought an easier route for his hired hands.”

“Hmm.” Victor stopped, pausing to better concentrate on his coyotes. They were fast when they had room to run, and it felt like they were very distant, like they’d covered miles. “My coyotes are way ahead of us. They haven’t run into anything—” Victor gasped, choking off his words, as he felt a surge of panic mingled with excitement. His coyotes had come upon something. He got an impression of a vast space, heat, and the undeniable danger sensation from all five of them. Then, they were gone.

“Are you all right?” Bryn grabbed his shoulder, and Victor shook his head, trying to banish the startled panic and fear his companions had sent his way.

“Something just killed my coyotes.”

“Gods!” Feist cried, “I’m sorry, milord!”

Florent saved Victor the trouble of explaining. “Those were spirit totems, Feist. They aren’t dead forever.” He looked at Victor, “Isn’t that correct, milord?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Still, something killed them in about two seconds flat.” He glared at the three of them. “Maybe you all should wait here.”

Florent shook his head. “I have strict orders to accompany you, milord.”

“I’m not letting you go down there alone!” Bryn looked horrified at the thought.

“I’m with you, Your Grace!” Feist announced.

Victor smiled at Feist, nodding as he locked eyes with the young man. “I appreciate your bravery.” He turned to Florent, “But if I tell you to run, you better have a portal ready.”

“I always have an escape portal ready, milord! How else do you think I can feign such bravery?” He grinned lopsidedly and winked, getting a few hearty chuckles out of Feist.

“Fair enough.” Victor looked up at his Globe of Insight, then canceled it, reclaiming his Energy. As the tunnel was thrown into darkness, Florent’s black staff began to glow with silvery light.

“Shall I extinguish this, milord?”

“Up to you,” Victor said, casting Banner of the Champion, blasting the tunnel with its blazing golden light.

“Gods! I feel that!” Feist cheered, pounding his chest with his fist. Even Florent stood taller, the wan pallor of his flesh perking up with some color.

Bryn was beaming ear-to-ear as she peered up at the bloody sun on Victor’s floating, magical standard. “I’m learning a lot about you today, Your Grace.”

“C’mon.” Victor started down the tunnel, his lengthy strides forcing the others to half-jog to keep up. “You’re probably going to learn a lot more.”