M33

As Morgan descended the ancient steps, he started to get the feeling that the structure he was entering was the basement of a square tower. The steps, covered in broken deadwood and moss, were rather treacherous, but he had his Lightstone to reveal pitfalls, and his nimble footing was more than up to the task to make the descent safely. He kept feeling like something was missing, and then he realized he was missing Issa’s company. The absence of her hand on his shoulder and her soft breaths from just behind him struck him with a note of melancholy, and he resolved to make finding her village more of a priority in his life.

The descent wasn’t overly long, and after just a few winds of the square, exposed foundation, he found himself stepping onto a scree-covered limestone floor, deadwood, leaves, and rubble making progress difficult. He looked up and saw a patch of the night sky, the big, ringed moon just coming into view. He listened but didn’t hear anything stirring in the room, so he started to explore, stepping over the broken stone, rubbing his hands along the mossy walls, tapping suspicious-looking sections of the floor, and shining his light into dark corners.

He was starting to think his exploration would be fruitless, but as he got to one of the darker corners of the base, obscured by the shadow of the steps going up, he found that a rotten, fallen section of a tree was blocking an old, weathered door. He stood to one side of the damp, rotten log and kicked it. Large chunks of bark and rotten wood sloughed off. He kicked it several more times until it was a pile of decayed bark and pulpy wooden dust. With the door fully exposed, Morgan could see that it had a brass handle that had turned green in the elements. Morgan grabbed the brass handle, turned it, and pulled. The door didn’t budge. He put a foot on the stone next to the door to brace himself and pulled harder. Still, the door didn’t move, so he braced himself again and gave the handle a mighty jerk.

The door handle ripped free of the old, swollen wood, and Morgan sprawled backward onto the limestone floor, sliding through moldy leaves and rubble. He cursed, standing up and brushing himself off. The door had swollen with exposure to rain, and now the handle was gone. He wished he’d purchased some sort of prybar or even an axe before heading out. Looking through his storage pouch and the storage ring, he didn’t see anything that would work well to bash the door. He’d dropped off most of his spare weapons in the forge. Well, he wasn’t going to let an old wooden door end his exploration.

Morgan stood in front of the door, lifted a leg, and kicked the door as hard as he could. Morgans foot smashed one of the old wooden planks in half and continued through into the space beyond the door. He fell forward and had to pull his leg out of the hole he’d made. He yanked the broken board pieces away from the door and held his light up to the opening. A dusty, empty limestone corridor stretched away from him for a good twenty feet, and then Morgan could see another door. Smiling, Morgan gripped hold of the next board and yanked. The rotten wood ripped away from the nails holding it to the doorframe. He did the same with the next board and judged the opening wide enough to slip through.

The corridor was musty but dry, and dust was the only debris on the floor. The old door might have been rotten, but it had kept things out. Morgan padded quietly in his leather boots up to the next door. It was similarly designed but hadn’t been rotted by rain. The brass wasn’t gleaming, but it wasn’t green. Morgan depressed the handle and gave it a gentle pull. The door opened, creaking on its hinges. Morgan shone his light through the gap when it was about a foot wide. The pale light exposed a square limestone vault with what looked like stone sarcophagi lining each wall. Morgan, leery from his experiences in the Crucible, stood still in the doorway for a while, patiently observing the room. Nothing moved, save the shadows that jumped with each involuntary movement of his hand holding the light.

Morgan pulled the door wide and stepped into the chamber. The ceiling was a vaulted limestone dome, and Morgan could see faded paint on the stone. On closer inspection, he realized that only the walls to his left and right held sarcophagi - the far wall was dedicated to an altar with a faded, threadbare tapestry hanging above it. Morgan could just make out the faint outline of a tree and a circle of stars in a night sky. He stepped forward, looking more closely at the tapestry for any more clues about the origin of this ancient space. His boots, though soft, made echoing scuffs in the room. It was deathly silent. He held his light a bit higher and saw that more tapestries hung above each of the six sarcophagi.

They were terribly faded, but Morgan could see that the tapestries each depicted a different person. The first one he studied was a humanoid man with black plated armor. The figure wore a helm that obscured its face, so Morgan couldn’t tell what type of person he had been. He looked at the next tapestry and saw a woman with pale skin and large eyes. The threads were so faded that, at first, Morgan actually thought it was a tall, thin human woman, but then he noticed the faint outlines of gossamer wings and realized it was a Ghelli. He quickly looked at the various other tapestries and confirmed that they all depicted Ghelli. Some were men, some were women, some wore armor, and some wore silky gowns.

For a brief moment, Morgan contemplated opening up the stone coffins and seeing what sorts of treasures these people might have been buried with. The room was so quiet, and the faces of the Ghelli in the tapestries so serene that Morgan felt like it would be an ugly transgression, though. Perhaps it was because he was still feeling some guilt about how things went at the Yovashi dwelling, but he decided to leave things alone. Morgan quietly walked around the room once more then started making his way to the door. He was about to step through when he noticed a sudden chill in the air. He turned and saw a translucent, ghostly figure standing in front of the altar.

“Hello, protector. Have you come to pay your respects to the six?” The spirit was tall, thin, and wore plate armor that glinted with a silvery light. Huge, double wings spread out from his upper back, shaped like those on a dragonfly.

“Um, hello. Yes, I’d like to pay my respects, but I regret to say that I don’t know who the six are.” Morgan felt that honesty might be the best policy when dealing with a spirit.

“No? Has so much time passed? Stranger, I sense the soul of a protector in you, but I’m not familiar with your kind. Tell me, what news have you of the Azure Empire?” The spirit stepped forward, his ghostly greaves making metallic clicks on the limestone floor.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t know of the Azure Empire. My people are new to this world.” Morgan turned to face the knight fully, stepping closer. He didn’t feel any animosity from the spirit; rather, he felt an inexplicable sense of kinship with him.

“Ahh, I see it in you now: you’re as lost as I am. I know much time has passed since I was interred. Time moves strangely for a spirit, though, friend. This much, I’m sure: my kin are gone. I think I remember them moving on, but my mind plays some tricks with me. Are all of your people gone?”

“No. Not all of them. Our numbers are few on this world, though, and we are surrounded by hostility.” Morgan wasn’t sure what the ghost was getting at, but he did have worries about the humans; there were less than five thousand human souls in this massive hostile world.

“Good that you’ve chosen to be a protector, then. It is a noble path. You are young, though, just a fledgling. Do you have a strong mentor?”

“I’m afraid not. In fact, I think I’m the strongest among my people.” Morgan realized that something about the knight made him want to speak openly for the second time.

“This won’t do. What is your name, guardian?”

“Morgan Hall.”

“Morgan Hall, will you receive my Legacy? The Legacy of the Azure Paladin?” The spirit stood in front of Morgan, looking down at him, and rested its ghostly hands on Morgan’s shoulders as it spoke. Morgan didn’t pull away; he wasn’t sure he could have if he wanted to. The spirit held his gaze transfixed.

“I, uh, I…” Morgan’s mouth had gone dry, and his mind spun. It seemed like the spirit was offering him something beneficial, but he didn’t know. He didn’t know how any of this worked. He decided just to be honest. “I’m sorry, sir; I want to say yes, but I don’t exactly know what you’re offering me.”

“I have no kin, and you require training. I can pass my Legacy to you, serving us both - you will learn some of my skills, and my memory and Legacy will live on through you and your kin.” Morgan looked into the spirit’s transparent eyes and saw nothing but sincerity in them. He thought about what was being offered and couldn’t imagine something called the “Azure Paladin” could be an evil trick. His gut told him to go with it, so he complied:

“Yes, I accept your Legacy, sir.” Morgan spoke firmly, and as he finished the word “accept,” he started to feel a warm pressure in his shoulders, and then he saw a System message:

***You have been offered the Legacy of the Azure Paladin, do you accept? Y/N***

Morgan selected the yes option, and then the warm pressure in his shoulders turned into a flood of Energy, and a bright flare of brilliant blue light flared outward from the Knight. The bright light overwhelmed his vision, and Morgan’s sight went dark. He found himself kneeling alone in the vault when he could see again. There wasn’t any sign of the spirit, and he had notifications waiting for his attention:

***Congratulations! You’ve gained the feat: Legacy of the Azure Paladin***

***You’ve learned the skill: Azure Burst - Basic.***

***Legacy of the Azure Paladin: You have formed a soul bond with the one known as the Azure Paladin. Periodically, as you gain levels, you’ll be offered the opportunity to commune with the Azure Paladin to learn from him.***

***Azure Burst - Basic: A true paladin wades into the thick of the battle, fearing not the surrounding hordes. Channel your Energy to release a burst of Azure Energy, dealing fire-based damage and blinding enemies that fail to resist your will. Energy Cost: 200, Cooldown: Long***

“Holy shit. Thank you, sir Paladin!” Morgan couldn’t feel the spirit’s presence anymore, but he thought it was better to show gratitude than not. He stood, debating on whether he wanted to leave right away, and decided against it. Why stumble through the dark when he had this peaceful vault to meditate in? He stepped over to the door, closed it, and then sat down in front of the altar. He took the lotus position and proceeded to work through his Vortex cultivation drill. Over and over, he performed it, and he felt like his Energy gains were higher in this place than when he was sitting in the empty library of his tower. By the time the night was nearly over, he could tell it wouldn’t be many more sessions before his Core was ready to level again.