Sylver Seeker Chapter 234: Birds Of A Feather(1/2)

Ill talk first, my story is shorter, Edmund said, as he gestured for Sylver to take a seat on his coffin.

The sun reflected off the glass floor and burned away layer upon layer of Sylvers shadowy skin. Small pieces ca off in wisps of black and disintegrated as they fell, without ever reaching the floor.

I was born into a family of sheepherders. Normal-ish childhood, but then- the skin on Edmunds hands turned an ashy grey, with bright glowing cracks of red extending up to his elbows, -the farm got attacked. The local lord attacked the farm, killed my family, and tried to burn everything down, Edmund explained, as he made a grabbing motion towards the floor with his left hand.

A glowing square appeared on the glass underneath Sylver, and as if it was about to break apart, the edges of the square spread outwards. As the cracks lengthened, the square glowed brighter and slowly the edges rose out of the floor and began to form into a cube.

So, I have a giant hole where my left lung used to be, and then they threw into the house, where the rest of my familys corpses are. Sohow, I realize I can absorb the flas, and more importantly, I can steer them. I break out of the burning building, in a blind rage kill everyone in sight, and-

You were reborn without your mories, Sylver interrupted, just as the cube finished forming around him, and gradually began to fill with a brown-colored fla.

It was my body, but it wasnt . I appeared all at once when I turned 28, Edmund said, as the brown flas flooding the cube Sylver was sitting inside passed through his pitch-black torso and latched themselves onto the small piece of flesh inside his shiny indestructible ribcage.

Sylver leaned back and allowed himself to rest against the wall of the cube he was inside.

Thats about the age you looked when Sylver let the words trail away, but found that instead of a grief so deep he couldnt handle it, he instead felt

Nothing.

Not actually nothing, he still felt upset, sad, devastated, but it was no longer this overflowing basin of pain, it now felt like a much more manageable bottle. He could tell the glass was brittle, and the cork keeping it closed was the barest shake away from exploding, but at the very least he could look at the bottle, without imdiately being splashed with gut-wrenching aching.

Im fairly certain even the facial hair was exactly the sa, Edmund said, as the little blob of flesh that composed about 80% of Sylvers body sprouted a vein, traveled upwards, and expanded into the outline of a heart.

The heart began to beat, and with each beat, spread arteries and veins out through Sylvers shadowy body, as if it was a seed spreading roots.

Anyway The first couple of months are a bit blurry, I didnt handle what happened all that well, and the person who I replaced had steady access to a variety of won, narcotics, intoxicants, and other sorts of distractions, which I took full advantage of. I assud that my dead soul was trying to calm down, or sothing to that extent, and just went along with it, Edmund explained, as Sylver shook his head.

You never died. I an, you died back then, but your soul hasnt been dead, Sylver said.

The brown flas that had stabbed themselves into Sylvers body flickered and turned a darker shade of brown. Sylver held back a gasp as he felt bones appear inside of him and nudged them where he wanted them to be.

So, I died, but the soul of the that stands before you has never been dead Edmund asked.

Sylver rubbed his nonexistent eyes with the palms of his hands, as the brown fire continued giving him more and more bones.

I wasnt at my best during the last monts, I may be wrong about you being dead. But if that sword was enough for Aether, I dont think you If anyones bloodline magic could make sothing like this possible, it would be yours. Im going to run a few tests when we get ho, lets talk about this part then, Sylver explained.

The rule with magic was that the impossible was impossible.

Up until it wasnt.

Just because master necromancers like Sylver believed that removing the scars of death from a soul was impossible, didnt necessarily an it couldnt be done. Especially for soone like Edmund, his soul was so far above alive, that it almost made sense that the scars would heal, given enough ti.

Sylver lifted his head and nodded at Edmund to continue.

Once I cald down a little, I started asking around, surely the queen of a country would know about the Ibis, or at the absolute least heard about one of us, Edmund said, as Sylver felt his lung organ gradually appear within his chest and felt the uncomfortable feeling of having air forcibly inserted into it.

It was as if we never existed, Sylver guessed.

See, thats the really weird thing. We never existed, and yet, everything we did very much happened. The nas are different, and so of the details have been fiddled with, but the volcanos I tore open are still there, and the obelisks you created are exactly where you left them, I even found a school of healers that use the exact healing practices Adema invented, Edmund explained, with just a hint of a frown leaking into his voice.

Sylver knew what Edmund wasnt saying. What he wanted to talk about but was given a warning just for considering.

Is this a Cassato, or a Cosirius, situation? Sylver asked hopefully.

Both? Sort of. Do you have a workaround? Because I know sothing that might help, Edmund said.

Sylver felt his spinal discs snap into place and then stretched his newly ford limbs outward. The brown fire beca even darker, as muscles, internal organs, eyeballs, all the squishy parts basically, began to grow around Sylvers partially ford skeleton.

I have a plan, but its going to take a while, Sylver answered.

Cassato, and Cosirius, were exceptionally powerful clairvoyants, powerful enough that their range extended to every inch of Eira.

Cassato could manipulate information that involved him, if Sylver tried to tell Edmund that Cassato had black hair, Edmund might hear Sylver say that Cassato has blue hair, or white, or blond, or he might not hear anything at all.

The only information that couldnt be manipulated, was firsthand knowledge. If soone saw, with their own eyes, that Cassato had black hair, even if they couldnt communicate that information to anyone, Cassato couldnt stop the person from knowing.

Cosirius on the other hand locked information away.

With Cassato, you could know sothing about him, but you couldnt share it.

With Cosirius, he could plain and simple stop you from knowing sothing. It didnt even need to be sothing about him, if he was close enough, he could make a person forget how to walk, or breathe, he could even make a mage forget how to use magic.

Since their supposed defeat, the two nas have been used to an that either a person was incapable of sharing sothing that they knew, or they knew sothing, but didnt know it.

Ive t people who knew about , about you, and they- Sylver started, but was interrupted by Edmund before he could finish.

Do they have massive gaps in their mories? Or they reincarnated, spent a couple thousand years asleep, sothing like that, right? All the people who know about us have a period where they were completely unaware of their surroundings, Edmund interrupted, and Sylver could do little but nod.

Sylvers vision cleared up a bit, as his right eyeball ford, and connected to the slurry of at that was gradually turning into a brain.

There are I want to say 3, but there are 3 more that I dont know for certain. But the 3 I know in person, are exactly like you said, Lola just sort of appeared where she did, and Faust and Bruno have massive holes in their mories, Sylver explained, as his second eyeball materialized inside his upper skull.

Edmund waited for a few seconds, so Sylver could concentrate on adjusting his bone structure before the muscles started getting in the way.

How long have you been up and about? 173 isnt bad, especially considering how crippled the [Necromancer] class is, but Im going to guess 1 year. Maybe 2? Edmund guessed.

Year and a bit. I havent really kept track. But thats from my perspective, from the perspective of this realm, its been over 6 years. What level did you get to before you ended up in your coffin? Sylver asked, and Edmund seed to rember that he had been in the middle of telling a story.

I was just shy of hitting level 1,500. You cant imagine how bad the experience curve gets once you get past 500, and talk about - Edmund closed his eyes and ground his teeth for a few seconds. Oddly enough, Sylver was happy to see Edmund was hurting, as terrible as that sounded.

Lets just enjoy the fact that were both here, Sylver said, as the flas surrounding him beca darker and darker.

The two n didnt say anything for a while, as Sylver nudged Edmunds healing magic where he needed it most, and by the ti Edmund stopped grinding his teeth and cald down, Sylver was once again whole.

He was naked, but [Greater Undead Armant] provided him with a passable robe.

Edmund in turn looked like he was wearing a shirt and trousers made out of black sand. Every ti he moved; the material sparkled as if it was embroidered with extrely small gems.

While Edmund continued telling an abridged version of his story, Sylver used the ti to stretch and realign his mana channels.

His body wasnt just whole, it felt better than it ever did. The tiny pieces of tal that sotis made themselves known by scratching against his spine were gone, as were the various stitches Sylver had been using to keep his left arm attached to his torso.

It even felt like his blood was flowing better than it had before, although that part might be more to do with Sylvers current mood, as opposed to any physical changes.

Healing an undead is impossible.

Unless youre a world-class healer, that went out of his way to figure out a thod through which he could heal his undead companion.

Due to the nature of his magic, Edmund was capable of inverting his mana, which in turn ant he could cast the opposite of healing magic, which in turn translated into magic that could heal an undead.

Sadly, Eds undead healing magic, didnt work on undead other than Sylver.

Few know this or bother to learn this, but healing magic has to be adjusted for the person being healed, the adjustnt can range from minuscule to massive. Catch-all spells do exist, but their effectiveness is abysmal, to the point theyre almost useless.

In Sylvers case, the way Ed explained it, the spell he used to heal Sylver barely worked on him, and there wasnt enough space in the spells frawork to adjust it to work on anyone other than him.

It would be more correct to say that Sylver just so happened to have the right combination of soul and body, for Edmund to craft a spell that could heal him. Sylver didnt know enough about healing magic to advise Edmund on the matter, but how many undead did they even know that needed Edmunds undead healing magic?

Anyone powerful enough for Sylver to know them by na, let alone Edmund, were nigh immortal on their own, from liches to vampires, undead very rarely lived long enough to beco strong, without having a thod through which to heal themselves.

As Edmund had said, his story was rather short. He spent the majority of his life flying from one catastrophe to the next, demon lords, crazed sorcerers, cults, and so on, and so forth.

By the sound of it, Edmund was so busy playing hero, that he barely had the ti to look for mbers of the Ibis. He asked for the aid of whoever he saved, to at the very least spread his na, so soone who knows him might hear it, but neither Sylver nor Lola found so much as a ntion of Edmunds na in the history books.

But, to his credit, he did pass through the Asberg to see what had happened to the physical location where the Ibis was.

It was gone.

As if it had never been there in the first place.

I asked a few clairvoyants, seers, and various mages with analysis-related magic to help , but the answer was always the sa. Theres nothing there, Edmund said.

Sylver ran his hands through his hair and closed his eyes for a while.

He felt like crying.

Just a bit.

It wasnt as if he expected Edmund to have the answer to every single question he had, but by the sounds of it, Ed had even fewer answers than Sylver. He didnt even know why he went from an old man to a child, or why he glassed a giant piece of land.

If youre here, that ans theres a chance the others also sohow survived, Sylver said after a long and uncomfortable pause.

Unless you rember that my bloodline magic is, objectively speaking, the closest thing to man-made true immortality, and youre a man that knows more about escaping death than every necromancer who ever lived put together, Edmund said in a tone suggested his words were a complint, as opposed to a slap across Sylvers optimistic face.

I shouldnt be here, Sylver said, as he stood up from Edmunds coffin.

Why? Because you think youre such a monster that you dont deserve-

Oh, no, I ant I shouldnt be here in the sense my spell should have ended . I didnt fuck it up, I dont fuck spells of that caliber. He was a chronomancer, anything less than total annihilation would have been barely a scratch to him. Now that youre here, I at the very least know that whatever brought back wasnt a one-ti thing, Sylver explained in a rush as Edmunds mildly confused expression gradually turned into a grin.

Thats actually a good point Edmund said.

It was only now that he looked around and noticed that they were standing on top of a seemingly endless ocean of glass.

Dont worry, were in enemy territory, nobody of value died, Sylver said.

There was a small chance the Krists had living hostages, or sothing close to that, but it wasnt as if Edmund feeling bad about it was going to bring them back.

I see And them? Edmund asked, with a gesture towards the floating golden staff that was Ria.

One is a magic nullifying liquid golem, that possesses a soul, and the other is a demonic vessel that I have bonded with, Sylver explained casually. Edmunds grin grew bigger.

I cant tell you how much I missed you man, Edmund said, with a faint shake in his voice.

We do actually need to get out of here, Sylver said, while Edmund looked away for a mont, to wipe his eyes.

Give a second, Edmund answered.

Sylver gestured for Ria to float down to him, while Edmund worked on making sure he didnt look like he was about to start crying.

Is everything alright? Ria whispered into Sylvers ear, as she tried to hide in his robe, but discovered that the fabric wasnt as dense as she was used to, and she passed right through it.

Everything is fantastic. Edmund, I would like to et Ria, Sylver said, with a gesture towards his golden 3-pronged staff.

Nice to et you, Ria, Edmund said with a nod, with a relaxed and composed look.

And this is Morana, Mora for short, Sylver said with a gesture towards the small pale spider sitting on top of his head.

Nice to et you, Mora, Edmund said.

And this is Spring. He handles the shades Ive managed to accumulate, Sylver explained, as Edmund gave the materialized shade a polite nod.

Alright then. Where are we going? Edmund asked as Sylver looked up towards the sky to figure out which direction north was.

That way. I was hoping you-

Edmund brought his foot down, and a giant crack ford in the glass floor. The crack spread out in an arc and ended up forming a circle around Sylver and Eds coffin.

Edmund then proceeded to move his hands in a smooth flowing motion, as if he was playing with smoke.

Ria nearly fell away as the glass platform underneath Sylvers feet lifted into the air with a lurch, but Sylver caught her before she fell over the edge.

The glass platform rose high into the air, almost high enough to touch the clouds if they hadnt all been blown away. A mont later Edmund joined Sylver in the air.

He looked as if he was wearing a cloak made out of golden fire, with the barest shade of orange near the bottom tips. As if he had wings that he was too lazy to raise, the blazing cloak appeared almost limp, as Edmund directed the flas to push him forward.

The glass platform underneath Sylvers feet turned until it was almost perpendicular to the ground. Sylver was ready for it, but in hindsight, he should have warned Ria, because she started to scream, as Edmund exerted his magic onto the glass platform, and caused it to move with the speed of a high-powered missile.