Arawn751
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Arcane Apocalypse ~ 120
🕑 Added 2025-06-27 17:03:14 +0000 UTCMy writing speed has been absolutely horrendous since the start of the Summer, this 30-35 °C heat is sapping my energy like nothing else. I'm managing for now, but I don't know whether I'll be able to keep up the 2 chapters per week release schedule, especially with me also having to write another 2 chapters per week for my other story over at Scribble Hub. Since that one is closer to reaching its end, I decided I would focus on that one if it became too much, so you guys should prepare to get only one chapter per week of Arcane Apocalypse.
If I do this, I'll also cut down my Patreon Sub's cost from 10$ to 7$. Or idk yet, not decided on that one, but I'll reduce the price if I reduce the stuff I give in return, that's for sure.
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https://docs.google.com/document/d/1CBqMzGus1eW0xfwo9rNsAUPhZDA9E_lORgWWOeiPgus/edit?usp=sharing
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Helene experienced a sudden bout of nausea as an extreme sense of dissonance slammed into her. She was in two places at once, yet felt like she was in neither, not truly. It was a strange sensation, one only made worse by the mana burning in her veins.
The mana thrummed to the beat of her heart, thundering in her ears and flooding her senses for a moment that seemed to stretch into infinity.
“Your Call has been heard, Supplicant.” An impossibly powerful voice rumbled, and Helene heard it not with her ears, but with her Spirit. It sounded ancient, prideful, aloof and curious at once. “Your world is of some interest to us, your mana is pure, your bloodline familiar, your ancestors a friend to the Storms. Speak, little Human, tell us what it is you desire.”
Helene, still dazed and not quite clear in the head, took a moment to calm down and attempted to clear her head. Faint recollections of instructions from a Sorcerer’s Guidebook tickled her memories, and she latched onto them.
Bow. Low enough to show deference and respect, but never low enough to show submission. Never grovel. Never show weakness.
Helene bowed at the waist, forty-five degrees and placed her right hand at her heart, clenched into a fist. That should be a universal gesture, or at least understandable to anyone aware of humans. Hopefully.
“I desire to form a Bond with a Spirit of the mighty Storms,” Helene said, honestly surprised at how level she’d managed to keep her voice. Maybe her mind was still too dazed to flood her body with anxiety.
“Why?” The voice asked, curious and demanding.
Helene finally glanced up and took stock of her surroundings, only to gasp. She had read the descriptions, but it still shocked her to the core to see a world so … alien.
They stood on a small flat surface atop a gigantic hill made of a single monolith of dark grey stone. All around, there were hundreds of similar mountains over the horizon, piercing upwards from the void below and up towards the ocean of dark clouds covering the heavens. Lightning struck a thousand times every second, giving a yellowish light to the grey world as it reached down from the clouds and struck the tops of the many mountains.
Before her was the Spirit, a creature shaped vaguely like a human with a pair of arms and a pair of legs, plus a head, but that was where the similarities ended. Its skin was grey as the stones around it, but cracked and leaking vibrant yellow power from underneath. Its face held no mouth or nose, only a pair of glowing yellow orbs for eyes that hid miniature storms in them.
“I’m a Sorceress,” Helene said, swallowing. Why else would she want to form a Bond? Was it a trick question? Or wa-
“You misunderstand,” the voice rumbled, and Helene was struck by a vision of gathering storms bolting out the sun. “Why should I fulfil your desire? Why should I care? Why should a child of the Storms bind themselves to you?”
I should have known. Helene thought with dread bubbling in her heart. She’d read about this, the test of resolve and heart, the books had written about how the Storm Spirits tested their would-be Bonds and how not all of them survived or came away unscathed. What to say … what would convince them … what would a creature like this want? No, that’s the wrong way to look at it. I have nothing they could want. What is it that they would respect?
She ran through everything she knew of Storm Spirits, every recorded interaction and recall of Sorcerers successfully forming contracts with them. A young mother to a murdered son beseeching a Spirit King to grant her the strength to bring about her vengeance, the ambitious leader of a rebellion seeking to contract the Spirit of Kings to overthrow the King of his plane, and … Helene could vaguely remember a third recollection, which was the weirdest of the bunch. It spoke of an explorer, one heading into the most dangerous parts of the Mystic Realm, exploring newly found planes and fighting the ancient horrors crawling around in them.
What was the common denominator between those three tales? What would they have told the Storm Spirits to earn their favour when they were asked the question she’d just been?
That they appealed to the Spirits’ pride and arrogance? Helene wondered, then dismissed the idea. The creature standing before her, or rather sort of hovering mid-air, did indeed seem prideful, but not vain. If she started praising it, it might just treat it as an admission of weakness from her, as grovelling. No. I need respect, not pity. It’ll not reward weakness, only … strength. That’s it! I need power and am weak, but what I can show is the strength of my will. The strength of my convictions.
But that by itself wouldn’t be enough, Helene instantly understood that as she stared into that pair of imperious ‘eyes’. The Spirit would not allow its lesser kin to go with anyone it found unworthy or uninteresting. The Storm Spirits considered themselves to be the apex of their kind; they would not serve a common innkeeper, no matter what convictions that innkeeper held or how much they impressed the Spirits.
Well. Helping to save the world from ending should be a worthy enough cause. Helene thought, though she felt her gut clenching at the thought. What she truly wanted was for her daughters to be safe; she’d pity the rest if they died, but would not bleed for them herself. They weren’t worth dying for. There will be no going back if I get a Bonded Storm Spirit. If I say I want to help free our world of danger, I’ll have to mean it, or the Spirit will know.
However … would she actually mean it? Could Helene make it her personal goal to use her powers to free Earth of its monster infestation?
Probably not.
That sent her for another spin, thinking, reconsidering her choice and what she wanted out of this meeting. Truth. Either the truth is enough or it isn’t. If it’s not enough for this Spirit, then it can go fuck itself.
“I need power to protect my family,” Helene said finally, staring straight into the Spirit’s eyes as defiance roared in her chest like a wildfire. Would the Spirit dare call that an unworthy goal? “Our world is on the brink of collapse, invaded by monsters, our civilisation is in ruins, and an alien Kingdom is already encroaching on our lands, wanting to take from us what is ours. I need power to carve a place out of this world for myself and my family.”
“Family,” the Spirit spoke, and was that a hint of admiration in its tone? It was too faint and gone too fast to be sure. “A worthy enough cause for a mortal. For a Spirit of the Storms? Less so. You say you need power, so tell me, Human, what would you do if I denied you the power you desire? If I found you unworthy of being one of my children’s Bond?”
While the previous question propped long seconds of thought and careful consideration to construct an answer, Helene had no problem answering this one in a heartbeat. “I’ll find a way. I’m sure there are ways to change classes, or perhaps other Spirits to ask for a Bond. I’ll find a way to get the power I need.”
I won’t let my daughters down … not again. Helene felt her eyes misting as she remembered the last time she’d seen her oldest, Sophie. So absorbed had she been in her own grief and misery, she didn’t even notice it as her little girl grew into a woman. She had enough time to rectify her mistakes with Mia and Gabriel, but never with Sophie. The girl probably hated her, or worse, just … forgot about her and moved on.
Maybe she was dead already, killed by monsters or some lunatic drunk on their newfound magical power. Dead. Helene hoped otherwise, but with all the death and suffering she’d seen these last few days so close at home, she knew the odds weren’t in Sophie’s favour. It was likely she was already dead. Like Gabriel.
Closing her eyes, Helene took a shuddering breath, trying to stop herself from crying. This was not the time to throw a pity party for herself. She might have outlived two of her children, but Mia was still alive, the girl still needed her mother and Helene would be damned if she was found wanting again.
This power would be hers, or she’d find another to fill its place, and then she’d use it to protect her daughter. If she could get her hands on true Storm Sorcery, maybe even travelling over the monster-infested Atlantic and looking for Sophie wasn’t out of the question either.
“Irksome as it is to think you beseeching one of my peers for help, your dedication is admirable,” the Spirit said in an even tone, its featureless face and steady voice making it impossible to tell whether his words were meant as praise or derision. Perhaps it was a bit of both, perhaps it was neither. Spirits were alien things, unknowable and magical to the core, never meant to be truly understood by humans. “There will be no need for that. Family is core to our principles, and we find your convictions resonate with our Storms within. There is just one more thing, one thing you must agree to for our contract to be done.”
“What is it?” Helene asked breathlessly, eyes widening in shock at the Spirit’s words.
“You wish for a Bond, to have one of my children bound to you until that day you breathe your last. I can grant you that, I am sure more than one of my progeny would be both willing and able to do just that.” The Spirit loomed, its presence growing impossibly was and towering. It swallowed Helene up; she was but a tiny pinprick of light within a storm so vast it could engulf entire worlds. Suddenly, she understood the creature before her was nothing more than an avatar, a manifestation. When the creature next spoke, its words rumbled down from the heavens, the dark storms covering the heavens resonating with each syllable. “A Bond is a connection, a binding, a promise, a shackle. As the Spirit is Bound to the Sorcerer, so is the Sorcerer Bound to the Spirit. Your convictions have power, we have judged them worthy, but the Storms are greedy and our numbers are never enough.”
Helene felt each word in her bones as they crashed into the veil of reality, hammering away at it as it bent and whimpered. Her mana sang in joy, and she almost feel it, the vast ocean of power this realm was drenched in, singing in turn. Her mana was just a single voice in the choir, a single, pitiful voice compared to the mighty war drums and thundering beats of others. As the song reached a crescendo, the System dumped a notification in her face, a window buzzing at the edges with a familiar yellow light.
[The Spirit King Veldrith, Lord of Storms and Master of the Grey Waste, wishes to form a Contract with you.]
[The Spirit King will allow any of its progeny who are willing to form a Bond with Sorceress Helene Vexley.]
[From this day forth, the Sorceress Helene Vexley must hold true to her convictions. In addition, she is to be Bound to the Storms. Any creature borne of the Storm is to be considered Family and treated as such.]
[Should the Sorceress Helene Vexley break the Contract, her Bond will be annulled and will earn the eternal wrath of the Spirit King.]
[Do you accept the Contract?]
[ YES / NO ]
“What?” Helene asked no one in particular, a heavy frown creasing her face. Was this … was the Contract thing telling her the Spirit she’d been speaking of wanted her to treat it as part of her Family? It and every one of its myriad children? Why? Perhaps she had missed a part in one of the books, because she was entirely sure none of them mentioned anything like this, or that making a Bond with a Spirit was akin to marrying into its Family. Her eyes narrowed; there was something that’d been nagging at her, and she finally found out what. “Even if I were to accept this and … attempt to think of you as family, that’s … not how it works. It goes both ways. I’m not going to consider you or your kin as anything close to family if you think of me as a pet or a … weapon you can throw at your enemies.”
The clouds above rumbled in what might have been a chuckle, but it was impossible to tell over the din of constant thunder shaking the air. The Spirit before her reformed, and Helene startled at the realisation that she never even noticed it being gone; it just disappeared one moment, and the thundering clouds snatched up her attention the next.
“Very true,” the Spirit spoke, its voice back to being as close to human as it had ever been. “I agree. Forgive the mistake, it goes without saying. If one of my children is Bound to you, you are almost as much a child of mine as they are. I see your confusion, your books have not written of this, have they? Few have ever been allowed a glimpse at how the Court of Storms functions; they only see our power, our marks on history written in blood and deeds that are sung about for centuries to come. Any who’s been allowed that glimpse wisely kept it to themselves.”
“Is- “ Helene swallowed, feeling the intense gaze of the Spirit bore into her face, then she glanced back at the System window still floating in front of her face. Faintly, she recalled folktales of fae and daemons, how they tricked foolish humans with wordplay and deceit. She wanted to trust the Spirits words, because doubting them would for sure draw its ire, but … “Could you put that into the contract?”
She feared the answer, half-expecting to be struck down for her question. The Spirit seemed to truly take the question of family and what it meant seriously, but none of her books ever hinted at it. True, the Spirit said that was on purpose, that he had just been so good at concealing his values that no one ever found out … but Helene’s future depended on this.
Anything short of him smiting her on the spot was worth it in her eyes if she could get him to add what he’d said into the contract. She desperately wanted that reassurance; she couldn’t accept being made into a puppet to this alien being when she just wanted to be there for Mia, not run around doing God only knows what to a distant master.
The silence stretched uncomfortably as the thunder above ceased for a dreadful second, lightning and clouds freezing in place, as if the whole realm was holding its breath.
“Done.” The Spirit said stiffly, its voice giving nothing away.
[The Spirit King Veldrith modified the proposed Contract.]
[The Spirit King Veldrith, Lord of Storms and Master of the Grey Waste, wishes to form a Contract with you.]
[The Spirit King will allow any of its progeny who are willing to form a Bond with Sorceress Helene Vexley. Furthermore, he and his progeny will consider the Sorceress Helene Vexley a member of their family, proportionate to the Sorceress’ own feelings.]
[From this day forth, the Sorceress Helene Vexley must hold true to her convictions. In addition, she is to be Bound to the Storms. Any creature borne of the Storm is to be considered Family and treated as such.]
[Should the Sorceress Helene Vexley break the Contract, her Bond will be annulled and will earn the eternal wrath of the Spirit King.]
[Do you accept the Contract?]
[ YES / NO ]
The Spirit King just stared at her, inscrutable, perhaps holding back a dreadful rage threatening to boil over, perhaps serene as a still lake. Helene would never know. She didn’t dare push him further.
‘Yes.’
[Contract sealed]
[You now wear the mark of the Lord of Storms, other Spirits will feel your allegiance to the Court of Storms.]
[You have gained the Title ‘Mark of Veldrith, Lord of Storms’]
Honestly, Helene expected something worse. All in all, she would be coming out of this ‘contract’ far better than the Spirit King was. A part of her wondered why he even bothered talking to her, to someone so far below him, but the rest of her didn’t care one bit. The System never lied, that was a known fact in the rest of the Realms and one that Mia’s blue-haired friend also confirmed. The contract was sealed, and she would have the power she needed, maybe something even better, too.
She didn’t know what being considered family by a being like the Spirit King would mean for her, but she assumed some help was at least a given. Maybe advice too, especially on her magic and Class.
“It is done,” the Spirit spoke again, a hint of warmth and almost-friendliness seeping into his tone. “Come, children.”
Tiny pinpricks of light, scattered like stars across her vision, appeared and darted towards her. There had to be dozens, hundreds, maybe more than a thousand. As Helene was quickly growing rather worried, something zapped her feet and she let out an undignified squeal.
A strange sensation in the depths of what she knew to be her own spirit — her soul, she didn’t know why the attribute itself wasn’t called soul when that was obviously what it referred to — like parts of herself were vibrating, resonating with something. Curiosity, pride, a thirst for power. All emotions she felt within herself, but neither was all that great and then the strange sensation suddenly came to a stop with an echo of disappointment.
Looking down, she found a tiny lightning bolt in the vague shape of a human standing on her shoes. Some primal instinct in her wanted to kick it away with a shriek, but by some miracle, she managed to hold herself back. It hopped away, looking … dejected?
It was a Spirit, though a small one. A Sprite, probably, their equivalent of a child. The first of many, as its siblings and other kin gathered around her, all closing in and buzzing excitedly.
There were many kinds, some looked like clay figurines made of ash, wreathed in yellow cracks like the Spirit King, while others were closer to the living lightning bolt, the small one that sat on her foot appeared as. Small grey clouds the size of her head floated around, pairs of eyes glowing in their depth.
Some poked at her, zapping her either because they couldn’t control themselves or didn’t care to. Still, she knew the reason. In those moments, she felt them, a faint echo of their emotions resonating within her. They were checking whether her soul resonated with them, or something of the like, so she bore with it.
Amusement, curiosity and hope were the predominant emotions she caught from the Spirits, but there was also a fair amount of mischief, disinterest and even some disdain.
Again and again, they wandered over and then ambled or floated away with an air of disappointment, somehow strangely evident in their demeanour. The resonance she felt with each varied, but she had the feeling none were all that great and all spirits left with hints of disappointment or what she took for huffs of derision.
‘I knew you weren't the one for me, you’re not good enough’ was the second most common reaction the spirits had to touching her. They didn’t even attempt to hide it, and Helene had to tell herself they were just children to keep her temper in check. The constant zapping didn’t help with her irritation either.
Her soul quivered, nearly the whole of it, as familiar feelings reverberated through her being. Family, dedication, nurturing, protecting. The overall emotion was like a warm blanket around her soul, but underneath it, she could feel a familiar yearning for power. One couldn’t protect without power, and the family was vulnerable if one didn’t have the power to protect it. Worse, you were a weakness to the family if you were weak.
Helene blinked, still dazed as her soul sang and danced in tandem with the spirit of another. Her eyes found a pair of crackling amber orbs hidden behind a mist of grey. One of the little floating cloud-like spirits was before her and had a tiny tendril of cloud-stuff extended to poke her shoulder. She saw understanding and a burgeoning joy in those eyes, and she felt herself smile.
It seems she had found a Bond at last. Her smile widened as that feeling resonated in the little Spirit. It was just as happy and glad to form a Bond as she was.
{Stormborne Sorceress} Class effect triggered!
[Do you wish to propose a Bond to the Storm Sprite ‘Thaldris’?]
It wasn’t even a question, and her proposal was accepted before she could even properly think about whether she was being hasty. She felt the Bond form, a channel and link between herself and the little Spirit and knew instinctively it would allow them to transmit thoughts and emotions just as easily as mana and magic.
[Your Class Skill ‘Storm Sorcery’ gained the sub-skill ‘Spirit Bond: Thaldris’]
[You have gained the Trait ‘Spirit Bound’]
Two separate beings, but with the ability to freely share most of their power and energy among themselves. Already, Helene felt the dozens of spells Thaldris had at his disposal and knew they were a thought away. Likewise, she felt a small drain on her mana pool and knew it was flowing towards the spirit, nourishing it.
“The Bond is formed, eternal and sacred, two souls in need found what they had been missing in each other.” The Spirit King spoke once more, but Helene was faintly aware it wasn’t directed at her. Her new Bond whispered into her ear, sending impressions of its Greater kin lingering just out of sight. “Go on now, children, conquer, protect and destroy to your heart's content. Know the Grey Wastes will be a home to you till the day it sinks into the Void. Farewell.”
Helene turned to the enigmatic being and gave a slight bow. The sovereign nodded and, with a wave-like gesture, sent her tumbling. Nausea and intense dissonance slammed into her, but then she snapped back to herself.
She was wet, dressed in damp clothes under the shadowy canopy of a forest made of metal. Small rays of sunlight pierced the thick crown of leaves. She was back in the Rift, and the storm had come to an end.
Comments
P3t1
I don’t think I could function at all in that kind of weather. I’m made for 20-25 celsius.
Spike
lol it’s 101°F (38°C) today where I am I’d love it if it was 86 (30) all day.
Lisfer
I can commiserate. Heat over 30 °C is equivalent to being drunk at least to some extent (I read it somewhere, so don't quote me *g*). Have at it. And don't pressure yourself (too much). Thanks for the chapter!
