The day had gone by in a seeming instant as Slate continued working on his designs - sheaves of parchment were strewn about the desk space and fell into a small pile next to him. Halfway through his work, Yvilli had returned with the children and he gave them their daily lessons before using some of the money left by Vythin to feed them all. He glanced up as there was a knock in the door and Isaac entered, looking quite refreshed with Vythin in tow, who seemed joyful, but a hint of sorrow lay in his gaze.

  "How was the day out for you two?" Slate asked.

  Isaac slumped onto a nearby couch, "It was interesting. I met another god." He looked quite relaxed.

  Slate put his writing utensil down, "You don’t say? Interesting. Anything we should be worried about?"

  Isaac shrugged, "You should ask Vythin. I don’t think it’s any of our business, but he thinks it is."

  Slate looked over and gestured. Vythin spoke, "I found my brother today." Slate leaned forward as Vythin continued, "Turns out he owns this Inn and the coffee shop next door. And he’s one of the biggest information brokers in Heimfold."

  Slate rubbed his hands together, "Perfect! Wonderful news that you found your long-lost brother and were reunited. Even better news is that he could help us."

  Vythin nodded, "And that’s where this other god comes into play. There’s a competitor across the street...turns out she is a god."

  Oh now, that could be tricky, Slate thought as Vythin continued.

  "In exchange for helping to take her down as a rival, he said he’d provide us with access to his whole intelligence network."

  Slate scoffed, "We don’t need that. If I can look at documents detailing these going-ons I will then be able to use my powers to tap into that network."

  Isaac glanced over at Vythin, "That sounds like a good idea. I’ll just warp into Orinor’s office and take all the important looking parchment."

  Vythin shook his head, "I don’t want to betray my brother. I have to repay him for my leaving and not coming back...the least I can do is help him now when his livelihood is threatened."

  Slate tented his hands, "Does Orinor know about our own godhood?"

  Vythin shook his head, "No. I did not tell him, or that you were with Isaac and myself. But I imagine he’ll put two and two together since we checked in at the same time and arrived together. And he’ll probably find out that my arrival coincided with a large influx of dreks to the lower city. He was always the smart one."

  Slate nodded slowly. It’s a dangerous game indeed. We have yet to become hostile with any other god.

  Oh, come now, my dear Slate. It would be quite enjoyable to rip the Shard from this other god’s husk and take it for your own use, his Passenger said.

  Slate was surprised, I thought you had left.

  Left? No, you can’t get rid of me, the Passenger chuckled in his mind. I simply...hid for a bit after that fellow went all bright eyed.

  "How large of a threat is this god?" Slate asked as he pushed aside his Passenger's comment.

  "I wouldn’t be too concerned. She’s a Spriten whose words seem to just mess with people’s minds and emotions. I don’t think she is a real threat," Isaac replied.

  "Well we should get a move on. We came here to find a priest that could exorcise Demons, yes?" Vythin asked as he stood and stretched.

  Slate stood and glanced over at Yvilli, who was on the side of the room with Matthew and Mary who were working on a local history assignment. "Yes, we should go and deal with that issue now. Follow me, it’s not too far to the Starfall Hall, and the passage that leads deep into the darkness under it." He strode out of the room with his two fellows in tow. Leaving the tavern they went along the main road until they were at the entrance to the Hall itself. A massive domed structure surrounded by columns that supported the sculptures around the outside. They walked into the main entrance and saw the interior of the large assembly chamber where one human man was standing, speaking to a large crowd. Slate led his companions down a flight of stairs off to the side of the main chamber, and they descended quite a distance, passing some individuals heading the opposite direction.

  Isaac spoke softly, "You sure you know where you’re going, Slate?"

  Slate nodded, "Of course. The Hall of Shadows is directly under the main assembly chamber. It’s quite a ways down, though. In the depths of the mountain this capital was built around." They continued for a few more minutes before the stairs opened up into a large chamber. A statue of the goddess herself was situated on a pedestal as two hallways went past her. They went down the right hallway meant for egress, and they came to the main chamber. A large vaulted ceiling with floating candles glowed with a purple flame; the ceiling itself painted to look like the night sky with white gemstones embedded like the stars. In the centre, dominating the design, were three overlapping circles. Slate gestured upwards, "The three moons of Umbra. Her afterlives. Each one oriented towards a specific worshipper." He pointed to the lightest colored one, "The Full Moon, which is populated by those who venerated The Dark Lady through worship and donations, but kept their desires in check." He pointed to the blue-hued circle, "That is The Twilight Moon. For those who not only worshipped The Dark Lady, but also followed their desires for much of their lives." He pointed to the last circle, a bloody crimson in colour, "And lastly, The Dark Moon. For those who followed their desires and impulses to the near-exclusion of everything else, often to the misfortune of others."

  He heard a small clapping noise and glanced sideways, seeing a woman clothed in cream colored robes with several ornate silver necklaces. "You are absolutely correct. Welcome to the Hall of Shadows. How may I assist you this evening?"

  "We want to get rid of a demon in our friend here," Isaac said.

  "And break a pact!" Vythin added.

  The woman frowned, "I’m sorry but there’s not much we can do about that. To bind ones-self to a servant of Umbra is viewed as a gift. We dare not intercede and try to void a pact. As for possession," she turned to Slate as she spoke, "That is considered an even greater blessing of the goddess."

  Hahaha! Told you, you can’t get rid of me, the Passenger taunted.

  Slate shook his head, "Well, could you at least give us some information then?"

  The woman nodded, "Of course. I am happy to assist you in that task. I must ask, however, that you provide a donation." She gestured to a bowl filled with the currency of The Holy Empire and other expensive trinkets. Slate pulled out his purse and threw several dreks in. She smiled and led them to a corridor on the side of the main hall, and down another hallway dotted with doors. She went inside a room, Slate and his companions following. A small chamber with an altar and two couches facing the altar were within as the robed woman shut the door.

  "I’m Frerna; a priest of the goddess. What questions of yours can I answer?"

  "I have a Demon inside of me. However, he’s a stubborn bastard. I don’t know his name; only his desires," Slate said.

  Bastard, eh? Love you too, buddy, the Passenger said sarcastically.

  "We cannot provide the name of your possessor. If they did not reveal their name to you, we dare not interfere with their intents," Frerna replied.

  "What can you tell us about Arglenaut?" Vythin asked.

  Frerna closed her eyes for a moment before replying, "Arglenaut is a Demon Prince of The Dark Moon. Or the ruler, when Umbra is elsewhere."

  "What business would Arglenaut have with children?" Isaac asked.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Frerna smiled, "Ah, we can only guess at the intentions and whims of the Dark Lady’s most powerful servants."

  "Where would one go to learn more about Demon possession?" Slate asked.

  "We do have an archive here that is open to those who donate. We also require that a guide go with you to ensure the safety of the collection," Frerna said.

  Slate’s eyes lit with anticipation, "I’d be most interested in that." He looked back at Isaac and Vythin, "Why don’t the two of you head back to the Inn? I’ll do some research tonight and find out what we can do."

  Isaac nodded, "Come on, let’s leave him to it." Isaac stood and Vythin followed him out.

  Slate turned to Frerna, "Please, lead the way to this archive." She nodded and led him out of the room, back to the main central chamber where Slate glimpsed his two companions leaving the Hall and crossed over to the other side. They went down another set of stairs and arrived in a foyer with a large desk with three workers behind it. Beyond was a sight that made Slate’s mouth salivate. A high chamber with three stories filled to the brim with books; large reading desks arranged in the center of the room in cubicles much like the academy he attended once so many years ago. The room was long as well - easily tens-of-thousands books, tomes and grimoires neatly arranged. Surprisingly, the library seemed rather empty.

  Frerna seemed to notice and turned to Slate, "Unfortunately several of Umbra’s worshippers do not value knowledge as much as following their passions. You will need to check in here at the desk, and you will be provided with a guide. We ask that you donate for each hour you are here. Ten dreks per hour is the appropriate donation, but feel free to be more generous."

  Slate thanked her and she left. He approached the desk.

  One of the workers looked up. An Ogo - the shorter, twin race to the Gori that were exclusively female. She smiled, brushing her auburn hair behind her pointed ear. "Welcome to the Night Archives. How may we assist you?"

  Slate pulled out several dreks and placed them on the counter, "I’m seeking information about Demonic possessions."

  The woman smiled, "Of course, and thank you for your donation. We will be happy to provide you with a-" she stopped speaking for a moment and appeared to flush fully red, bowing her head.

  Slate tilted his head before hearing an "Ahem," prompting him to turn around. "Possessions, eh?" A figure asked Slate in a soft voice. He was dressed in deep blue robes with a hood that masked all of his features. A large tome hung from a shoulder-strap across his back, and he held a large black staff topped with a white opal in his hand.

  Slate nodded, "Yes, that’s correct. And you are?"

  The figure responded, "Kalinor." He looked past Slate to the desk to the still reverent Ogo, "Do you mind if I escort this seeker of knowledge?" The woman nodded and turned away, going about other business. Kalinor waved to Slate, "Come then, follow me."

  Slate followed, and as he did so he channeled the heat in him and asked a question of his domain - who is Kalinor? His body followed this man seemingly of its own accord as Slate’s mind received the knowledge. Images in his mind’s eye flashed by rapidly. A child, crippled and mute, begging outside of a tower that extended up to the skies above. The Archrune Spire, the largest mage college in Heimfold. The vision continued to rapidly flash. The child was taken in by a...shape of a woman whose features were indistinct. Curious. I should be able to make out her features, yet I cannot. The vision continued as the shadowy woman flashed with a deep blue shroud of light, and the young man began to walk and talk. The vision shifted through his youth and young adulthood, coming to a close as Slate saw the man graduating from a mage college and being awarded his staff, the same shadowy figure standing next to him, a hand on his shoulder.

  "We’re here," Kalinor said as Slate shook himself from his reverie. They had walked far to the back of the Archive on the lower level. The man swept back his hood and Slate got a good look at his face for the first time. A human. Medium length, jet black hair swept back from a youthful visage. His blue eyes sparkled with multi-colored flecks - a signature of any mage that identified them to others upon close enough inspection. He rested his staff against a table and pulled out several books from the shelves, setting them down.

  "Thank you, Kalinor. May I ask why you chose to assist me?" Slate asked.

  The man took a seat and began leafing through the pages of one tome, "There’s something off about you. You triggered one of my proximity warning spells."

  Slate sat down next to the mage and began leafing through the book at a very rapid pace - his power granting him instantaneous comprehension and memorization of the contents. He glanced sideways as the young man looked at him quizzically.

  "Why do you wish to learn about Demonic possession?" Kalinor asked.

  Slate chuckled, "Well, that’s a long story. I don’t want to bore you."

  Kalinor shifted his chair and leaned back, looking at Slate with a stern but curious expression, "I’m always interested in a good story."

  Slate sighed and set the book down, "I’ve recently learned that an inner voice is a Demon who is quite annoying. I am looking for a way to get rid of him."

  Kalinor smirked, "That’s considered blasphemy by those who worship Umbra, you know. Quite a dangerous act." He scratched his head, "I think I can help you out though. An extraction is all you need?"

  Slate shrugged, "Extraction? As in just removing it?"

  Kalinor nodded, "Of course. No Demon can be killed, unless you killed them on one of the moons. Their essence goes back to one of Umbra’s afterlives and is reconstituted unless you destroy it at the source."

  Slate smiled, "That’s good to know. What do you need to do to extract it?"

  Kalinor stood and fished around in a satchel that hung from his hip, pulling out a gemstone about the size of a strawberry as trails of black, viscous liquid seeped from it before falling and fading into nothingness. It seemed to suck the light from the surrounding environment. "You need an appropriate vessel. A gemstone - diamonds are preferred - that has been exposed to one of the elements of creation itself. You’d need to take the gem to The Shadow Isle and dip it into The Penumbra, a pool of pure shadow left over from The Creation. Unfortunately for you, none but those who are blessed by Umbra can see whilst on the island, and the dangers that lurk there are quite nasty."

  "Couldn’t you just use that gemstone then?" Slate asked.

  Kalinor put the gem back in his satchel as he replied, "Depends on the abilities of the demon. How long has the Demon been with you?"

  Slate replied, "Since I was a child. It’s been able to take control of my actions, but not for a while now."

  Kalinor swept his hair back, "Then it’s strong. You’d need a pretty large gemstone to contain it. I’d guess about the size of your fist." He stood up and leaned against the back of a chair, "And, my services don’t come cheap. You’re lucky, you know - it’s not every day an average person grabs the attention of an Archmage."

  Slate rubbed his beard, "Well, then I suppose I am lucky. Money isn’t an issue, I have a benefactor who can cover whatever expenses you have." Kalinor smiled as Slate held up a finger, "However, why would you want to help me? If it’s blasphemy, and you’re trusted enough by the Archive to escort a stranger - doesn’t that mean you’d be against Demon extraction?"

  Kalinor laughed heartily for a moment before regaining his composure and smiling, "Truth be told, I just know that the folks around here pay reverence to me. I’m not sure why. I am not particularly fervent in any way. It may be due to my capabilities with shadow spellcrafting..." He looked off in the distance for a moment, a look of melancholy crossing his face, "Sometimes I wonder if in a past life I was a high priest of Umbra or something. But then I’d be in her afterlife. It’s a conundrum I’m still working out."

  A mage of the highest caliber - and as young as he is, also revered by devotees of Umbra? There’s something more here.

  Perhaps the woman taking care of him in his youth was The Dark Lady herself? The Passenger asked.

  Unlikely. Why would she bother to use her precious time to deal with a cripple? Let alone raise them like a child of their own.

  Well, she does wonderful illusions.

  Why are you trying to be so helpful now?

  I’d rather stick around inside a god than be trapped in a gem. The stakes are different now...You could get rid of me. And being trapped would be so boring. More so than just being an observer in you.

  "What payment do you require?" Slate asked.

  "Two things. First, what exactly are you? The spell that you triggered only goes off in the presence of extremely powerful entities. Normally from an afterlife."

  Slate scoffed, "Couldn’t the spell have been tripped by my Demon?"

  Aww, you think of me as ‘your’ Demon? The Passenger said sardonically.

  Shut up, Slate thought back.

  Kalinor shook his head, "Normally a possessing Demon is well-hidden from spells that can detect certain creatures. That’s why they possess people; to sneak around into places they shouldn’t be. So it must be you." Kalinor stared hard at Slate, "You’re not fully human, are you?"

  What’s the harm in telling him? "I’m not fully human anymore I suppose. Do you remember The Shattering?"

  Kalinor leaned forward intently, "Yes - a little over a week ago. You’re saying that you…" He sat back and smirked, "Lucky you - one of the New Gods. That explains it."

  Slate frowned, "Yes. Although my Demon has been around prior to my ascension."

  Kalinor nodded, "In that case, the second thing I need is a favor. There’s a rival mage that I’m having issues with, and I need help dealing with them as their spells counter my own. If you can help me deal with them, then I’ll help you with your Demon extraction."

  "I plan on staying for a few hours and reading as much as I can. Do you mind?"

  Kalinor waved his hand, "Not at all. I brought my own reading." He pulled out a set of tomes and began transcribing between the two.

  Slate smiled and stood up, perusing further books and devouring the knowledge within. The esoteric and long-forgotten lore soaking into his own mind.

  Hours passed when Slate finished reading the last book in the section. He stood up and stretched before glancing sideways at Kalinor who appeared to be in a trance. Slate rapped the bookshelf with his knuckles and the mage opened his eyes, snapping onto him. "I’ve acquired all of the knowledge that I wanted regarding Demons. Fascinating creations."

  Kalinor stood and picked up his supplies, "I’m happy I was able to help out a little." He began leading the way out of the Archive.

  Slate spoke as they walked, "I’m sure I’ll be able to help out with your mage rivalry, but you should probably meet my allies as well. They may be more suited to the task."

  Kalinor glanced back as he pulled up his hood, the deep cowl hiding all of his features, "Why don’t you take us to them then? It is just after sunrise."

  Slate nodded in affirmation and led the way out of the Hall of Shadows, back up to the Starfall Hall and to the inn - the sun just cresting over the walls of the city. He came to the rooms and knocked.

  ? Tick Tock On The Clock ?

  [LitRPG Deckbuilding with Time Ticking Down]

  The hourglass breaks, the debt comes due—will fate claim you, or will you break through

  Life was stolen, time was rewound—will you rise or stay Timebound?

  What to expect:

  This story is a healthy blend of ORV, The Devil's Cage, and MTG.