Krahe allowed herself to give into the theatre of her involvement with the Lost Sun Society, making her way to the very firing range where she had demonstrated her ability as a theurge in order to gain entry. The giant, Moloch-esq target statue loomed behind a scene of smaller, much more reasonable targets, including human figures, steel plates, and even forms of viscous gel, retreating into mechanized canisters to reshape themselves after being shot. There were even a few barrier generators, protected by heavy-duty barricades, painted in bright yellow and plastered in warnings. A handful of the Society’s members were already present there, some plinking away with guns while others tested out their own respective theurgies. The red and yellow of reapers and atropals pervaded the space, and Krahe realized that even if each of her Chthonian Eels could provide more shots than most other Lesser Eidolons, her reserves just didn’t compare to the sheer stockpile that a fully dedicated theurge would inevitably build up.
Even as she put on a show of sorts, demonstrating the Schwarzfaust’s maneuverability and striking power for a small group of enthusiastic onlookers, she couldn’t help but notice that one of the theurges who had been here before her had thrown out at least a fifteen-strong barrage of atropals at the giant target demon in the back, and he wasn’t showing any signs of stopping. By the look of his atropals, they had to be an older pattern, as they had a more zigzaggier flight path and resembled scaled serpents rather than tendrils. He was somewhat disheveled, with long black hair, a pair of circular glasses with a cracked lens, short stubble and bags under his eyes. His face was young, that of a man in his 20s or at most early 30s. The means by which he cast his theurgy was a staff of black stone, hewn into a shape that looked like a branch with twisted fibers, the top being the point where it had connected to the tree. Whether it really was worked stone or some sort of petrified wood, Krahe couldn’t tell. She couldn’t actually see any kind of secondary element to his theurgy, no talismans or bullets, just the staff.
She didn’t spend very long at the firing range at all, using the excuse that she had shown them what the Schwarzfaust could do, and that it would now be up to them to make it perform. At some point during her demonstration, the incessant yellow flashes had stopped, as Krahe made her way out of the shooting range, she could see the disheveled theurge looking her way. He spoke up when she neared him, his voice throaty, almost phlegmy. She knew that sound — someone who hadn’t physically spoken in a few days, at least.
“Blackhand, a moment. Your theurgy. May I have a copy?” he asked. He looked up at her with a sullen, dissociative stare, as if the world his eyes saw was not the one in which he was truly present.
“What do you offer in exchange?” she asked.
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He met Krahe's gaze, and the blue-greyish haze that obscured his irises suddenly clarified, exposing deep-blue, becoming so dark as to almost become black near the center, yet also emitting a slight glow. The Wizard's eyes were best compared to bottomless maelstroms. Unflinchingly maintaining eye contact, he pulled out a yellow talisman. Unmistakably one of Yao Fu’s products. With a flare of yellow light, eight copies flew out from it, surrounding the two of them. A sense of isolation crept in, but Krahe could clearly hear sound from outside the circle. Of the five others still at the range, only two reacted in the expected fashion of hushed murmurs. She could make out mentions of “the Wizard.”
“Chthonian Eels, a damascened Astral Body, and a True Eidolon… Or rather, something that willingly took on the guise of one,” the Wizard listed off, leaning on his staff. “You have been there, haven’t you? The coral-tree that grows atop the spire-chimney-that-is-a-well?”
His words seemed to run together, overlapping in an unsettling manner. It reminded her of the eldritch, unearthly colours she had seen, pulling at the ears in the same way those sights pulled at the eyes. He knew. Somehow, he knew. So Krahe just decided not to bluff.
“I have been there. What of it? I can reach that place again by my own means, if you mean to offer me a way back there as your part of our exchange,” she said.
“No, no such thing. You have seen what I am capable of. In the last twenty-three minutes, I have released… Eighty-three Yellow Atropals, model of fifty-five sixteen. I am far too young to have amassed such a reserve solely through direct archetype leveling. I can sense within you the potential to attain the next step of true theurgy — were I to guess, if you continue walking the path of theurgy, your next boon will confer a Lesser Eidolon Vault and Greater Eidolon Vault each. I can help you take that step, if only you share that theurgy of yours. If you wish to walk the path of thaumaturgy instead… Well, there is nothing stopping you, but I am not a skilled thaumaturge, and so cannot discern what boon you might receive from advancement along that path.”
“The gulf is at rest. In two weeks, three days, and six hours, the Wheel will come to a halt and the waters will be thrown into disorder. The world of man will be, too, but that is none of my concern. There is a place, deep within the gulf, the path to which I have charted just in time, but now I require the aid of one such as yourself to reach it and retrieve what I require. I know much of angle-webs and of the paths through the waters… But I lack the time to make my preparations — my diving-bell was damaged during my last expedition, and I suffered an injury which would take too long to heal. You, whose Astral Body is in pristine condition, can reach that place even with a damaged diving-bell. Venture to that place for me, return, and I will freely share all I know, as well as a relic of my own making, a graft of sorts. All my cards are on the table. A simple transaction. You are doubtful, I can see that, so I will add another offer: An artifact that can house a Lesser Eidolon. I already possess one of its type, so this one is of no use to me. Hand over a copy of your Schwarzfaust, and you may have it, no strings attached, even if you choose not to take me up on my main offer.”
“How do you know all this?”
The Wizard cackled.
