“No. Those are the towers of Domination and Perception. As you learn to use your powers your towers will grow and you will add new towers to your castle. Think of your mind palace like your video games. It is a representation of you, your skills, and your abilities. You will draw upon your experiences and use them as fuel to increase these.”
“Literal experience points,” Wilburn said, grinning.
“Exactly,” the voices said. “Normally, everything would be mostly built by this point had you grown up like we did. However, you only ever had the potential to transition to a higher existence. And we have not only awakened that potential but fed it in abundance. So much so that I have had to erect barriers in your mind to prevent you from being overwhelmed by it all. That is why you slept for as long as you have. It is why you are still tired even now. You are recovering, like a butterfly newly free of its cocoon.”
“I’m a butterfly, huh? Okay, so…if my memories aren’t in those towers, where do I need to go?”
The voices giggled again. “The Tower of Perception, of course.”
“I thought you said my memories aren’t in there?”
“They are not. What is in there is your heightened ability of perception. You have already begun to tap into some of the powers that it allows you for external use. Now you will turn them, inside.”
Wilburn didn’t remember actually walking across the courtyard to the tower. One moment he was on the drawbridge, the next, he stood before a heavy oak door. He knew it was oak instinctively, though he had no way of actually recognizing that. It was simply a part of this world. He was Wilburn Graves and the door was made of oak.
He opened it and found himself facing a spiral staircase. Stepping inside, he began to climb. He passed several doors, each with a heavy iron lock on the door, before coming to one that did not have a lock. Soft candle light flickered through the crack between the door and the floor.
Wilburn wanted to go in there but the voices urged him onward. “This is a room you should spend time in studying, but it will not save you now.”
He pressed on, passing several more locked doors until the voices stopped him outside of one. Looking at it, he couldn’t decipher it from any of the rest. “What’s in here?”
“Open it and find out.”
“I don’t have a key,” Wilburn protested. “How am I supposed to get inside?”
“Breathe deeply,” the voices said. “Feel that? The air outside the castle?”
He could. Which made no sense. They’d been soaring through the vacuum of space. Hell, the castle was floating in space. How was there air here at all?
“It’s not air,” the voices said. “It’s power. Real power. Let it fill you. Inhale. And exhale. Slow and steady now. Control your breathing.”
He inhaled and exhaled several times, following their instructions. On the third time he exhaled the voices said, “Now ignite it.”
Wilburn couldn’t have said what he did differently but as the air left him, he felt it combust. Flames leapt from his mouth and then coalesced into something solid, which dropped into his outstretched hand, heavy and cool to the touch. It was a heavy iron key, an old-fashioned kind that matched the lock on the door.
“Okay, what just happened?”
“We have filled you with power. The workings of our House have always been closely tied with fire. You drew upon a fraction of the power we filled you with and transformed it into a key that can unlock this door.”
“So, I could go around unlocking every door in both towers and have access to the powers in each one?” Wilburn asked, suddenly wondering if he was about to become some sort of godlike being.
“You could,” the voices said. “But then you would have very little to give to develop those powers. You grow them with your experiences, yes, but also with this fuel or energy that we have given you. Consider your videogames. You have your experience points, yes? And these experience points help you go up in levels.”
“Okay, I’m with you so far,” Wilburn said, nodding.
“Each tower is a different area you can level up.”
“Like skill trees,” Wilburn said. “Still with you. Keep going.”
“And the energy we have given you, it is like the items in your games that bypass the experience and give you an instant level up.”
Wilburn blinked. “And you gave me enough of that to create the…what, entire atmosphere?”
“We told you, we have provided you with an abundance.” The voices sounded more than a little smug. “But it is not infinite. You must choose wisely how to spend all that we have given. You will acquire more, but we doubt very much that anything you do will ever equal this gift.”
Wilburn swallowed. “I’m not entirely sure I understand everything that’s happening. But if all of that power whirling around out there making up the atmosphere in this place is energy I can use or points I can spend…then you gave me a ton. I think I owe you a thank you?”
The voices purred. “You are welcome. Now, you don’t have much time. You’re almost halfway to the ground.”
“You mean I’m still falling?”
“Yes. You had better hurry up.”
Wilburn slid the key into the lock, twisted it open with a small clink, and stepped into the room as the door swung open before him.
Chapter Four
Wilburn came to still flying backward through the air. His trajectory had carried him out and now he was nearly upside down as he arced towards the ground. For a moment, he panicked, arms flailing wildly about him before abruptly calming. He had plenty of practice falling. Not from a height like this, but in the Tower of Perception he had activated a new ability, one that allowed him to turn his focus inward and collect his memories and experiences to draw upon them. The power was called Self Reflection, and with it, the culmination of his falling experience had been carefully combed through and learned from.
Every fall from his unicycle or trip, every slip and spill he’d ever had. All of them possessed a kernel of something he could draw from and having fed the whole of them into this ability, Self Reflection had transformed the act of falling into an art. And with it, Wilburn knew just enough to throw his weight backward, transforming his momentum and curling up so that when he hit the ground, it wasn’t full on, but in a roll.
The impact jarred him as he struck, but he didn’t splatter everywhere as he’d expected he would when he was first thrown and there was no crack of bones breaking. Everything happened so fast. One moment he was striking the ground, the next he was rolling backward, and then, at last his arms and core gave out in surprise and he flopped onto his back, coming to a halt on the grass beside the pavement. A little bruised but very much alive.
For a moment, he lay there in shock. Then he sat upright, threw his arms up in the air, and gave a victorious shout. “I’m alive!”
Zuha Frost leapt from the second story and landed silently in a crouch in front of him as if it were as easy as stepping off the curb.
“Dammit,” Wilburn muttered.
She surged forward and brought a hand to his throat, claws tickling his skin. Her blue, feline eyes bored into his, her ears laid back, her fangs bared. “Who are you?”
“Wilburn Graves,” he said. “Zuha, you know me. We have Rhet. 1301 together.”
Her grip on his throat tightened. “What House are you? What game are you playing?”
Wilburn had no idea what she was talking about. Instinctively he tapped into his new Self Reflection power and analyzed from the few memories he had when he’d given a command, exactly how he’d done it. With a mental shove, he squeezed the energy from his mind and shoved it into hers.
The thrust met with resistance, like an elastic barrier. He pushed forward anyway. “Zuha, you don’t want to hurt me. We’re—we’re friends.” This wasn’t technically accurate. They were classmates and casual acquaintances, though Wilburn had sincerely hoped for more. Friendship was about all he wa
s ready to gamble on at the moment.
It wasn’t enough though. Even as he said the words he felt that barrier pushing him back his mental thrust, the command he’d instinctively given, drawing from his new Domination ability. Her blue eyes widened as they struggled and her lip curled back further, allowing a hiss to slither past her very lethal looking fangs.
Wilburn inhaled, envisioning himself back in his mind palace, his castle, in the Tower of Domination, drawing upon the energy the two voices had filled him with. He exhaled, pouring that power into leveling up his new ability. Inside his mind, the Tower shuddered, the room groaned and expanded. He hadn’t spent any real time inside of it and had no chance to look around now, but he caught a quick glimpse of bookshelves lining the walls with old tombs and the walls spreading apart to make room for a cozy hearth with a roaring fire.
The mental picture was shattered by Zuha’s expression, which had morphed from fury to fear as his mental attack swept through her suddenly feeble defenses to slam home deep inside her brain. Once inside, he sensed his command take hold—much firmer hold than any of his other previous commands and he felt that squeezing sensation again, pouring his energy into her.
She rocked back on her heels, blinking rapidly, one snowy white hand going to her face, as if she had a headache.
Wilburn gave a gasp of relief. “What on earth is going on?” he asked, rubbing at his throat. The points where her claws had pricked his skin itched.
“That’s what I’d like to know?” she said, looking at him with obvious confusion. “You’re a primus? Why on earth have you been pretending to be imus?”
“Who’s been pretending what now?” Wilburn demanded. “Look, I am beyond confused at this point. Yesterday—or, you know, when I last saw you, you suddenly turned into a cat person. Then I got kidnapped and woke up in a hospital. I’m hearing things and people are doing what I tell them—not like in a normal way but in a…like they have-to-way—and now you’re here and I ask a simple question and next thing I know you’re trying to kill me. And in the midst of that I have an existential crisis and voices are telling me to make a mind palace and now you’re not trying to kill me and my brain fucking hurts!”
When he finished, he was gasping for breath. He hadn’t realized that he was yelling until he stopped and his throat was ached.
Zuha stared at him for a moment. Then, all at once, she burst out laughing, falling over backward onto the grass and clutching her sides.
Wilburn shook his head. At least someone was finding this whole thing amusing.
“What the hell are you two doing on the ground?”
Wilburn looked up to find a dark skinned, older man in a campus police uniform. Wilburn shook his head. “I honestly have no idea.”
Zuha rolled upright, springing to her feet with feline grace—which Wilburn supposed was only appropriate—and beamed at the officer. “Sorry, Officer. We’ll get going.”
She helped Wilburn to his feet. “Come on. We can talk back at my place.” And she took him by the arm and guided him away, leaving the police officer standing over where they’d been, with his arms crossed, shaking his head and muttering something that included the word “kids.”
Wilburn started to ask her something but Zuha shushed him. “Wait until we’re back at my place, alright.”
Before they made it more than a few steps, Wilburn stopped. “My unicycle! I can’t forget it again.”
Zuha rolled her eyes. “Forget the damn unicycle, will you? I’ll buy you a new one.”
“But I put that one together myself,” he protested. “Do you have any idea how much a good off-roading unicycle costs?”
“You can control people’s minds and you seriously think money for a unicycle is going to be an issue?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Uh…hadn’t really thought about it. That whole thing is kind of…new,” he finished lamely.
Together they made their way across campus and to a parking garage. She took him all the way to the top level and to a royal blue Jaguar. Wilburn looked at the roaring feline miniature affixed to the hood mid-leap and then to Zuha with a raised eyebrow.
The fur on her face rose in what he suspected might be her equivalent of a blush. “Oh, shut up.”
He grinned at her, and at her instruction, got in the passenger seat.
Once they were out of the garage, he asked, “So when are you going to explain what’s going on. Because I’ve got to say, I’ve never done drugs before but this is feeling more and more like a bad trip.”
“It sounds like someone extolled you,” she said. “But…that can’t be right. You said, you started accessing your abilities after you got out of the kidnapping?”
He nodded. “That’s right. Why can’t that be right?”
“Because it sounds like you were already starting to see through my disguise before then. Actually—you were definitely not just imus then. You resisted Demetrius’s command to go back and study in your room. He really had to let you have it to make you go.”
“Yeah, that was a really good idea he had,” Wilburn said, then started shaking his head. “Wait…no, no it really wasn’t.” Utilizing his new Self Reflection ability he was able to piece apart the encounter and examine it more carefully. “He used Domination on me!”
Zuha laughed. “Yeah, but all he did was give you a Suggestion. If he’d dominated you, you’d still be his bitch now, just like those blondes that were with him.” She gave him a curious, sidelong look. “Are you sure you don’t know what House you belong to? It sounds like you might….”
“Might what?”
She shrugged. “Well a lot of houses breed their famulus for certain traits, including producing powerful offspring. But then you’d know all of this already, so that couldn’t be it.”
Wilburn furrowed his brow. “What do you mean, ‘breed their famulus?’ What’s a famulus?”
Zuha suddenly looked embarrassed and uncomfortable. “Forget I said anything.”
“No, tell me what you meant.”
She gave him a cutting look. “If I don’t, are you going to give me another Suggestion? I don’t doubt you could. I’ve never felt anything like what you did except from a magis and I’ve never heard of one of them who wasn’t already a House Lord.”
Wilburn sighed and sank back into his seat, his head throbbing. He felt more tired than ever. “You keep dropping weird words like I should know what they mean, but I’ve got no idea what the hell you’re talking about. Let’s start over with something simple. Why are you a cat person?”
The fur around her face rose again in another furry blush. “I’m a snow leopard.”
“Yeah, I see that. Why are you a snow leopard?”
She let out a long sigh and seemed to deflate.
“I got myself stuck,” she muttered.
At his look of confusion, she went on. “Transforming oneself into a bestial form is a really advanced ability among primuses—that’s what you and I are, by the way—and I thought I was skilled enough and strong enough to pull it off. I studied my ass off and was so sure of myself. I was so proud when I managed to transform myself…I was proud all the way until I realized I couldn’t transform back.” She let out another long sigh. “All my energy now has to go into maintaining a mental shield to keep the imuses from seeing or recording me. It’s so much effort that I can’t really do much else while I’m out. The only reason I’m able to even be in school is because of how powerful I am but…well, you saw Demetrius.” Her fur raised in embarrassment again and she couldn’t look at him.
“So…catnip?”
“We will never speak of that again,” she hissed, still not looking at him.
In spite of himself, Wilburn chuckled. “Fair enough. Consider it forgotten.”
“Good. And we’re here.” She pulled them around a corner onto a driveway that had been completely hidden from view a second ago by strategically placed trees and artful shrubbery. The en
d of the driveway was large enough to be considered a small parking and had a triple layered fountain at the center. Zuha drove around it and pulled into a four-car garage, which had a black Range Rover and a champagne Lexus already parked in it.
Beyond the garage was a three-story mansion. Artfully decorated, Wilburn couldn’t help but notice certain similarities between it and the castle he’d constructed to serve as his mind palace. He had very little doubt that this building was as much a fortress as it was a home and that it was designed with defensibility in mind.
A door at the back of the garage, presumably leading into the house, opened to reveal a blonde man and woman. He wore khaki slacks and black polo shirt but the woman wore an honest to God French maid uniform. The pair hurried out to meet them, giving Wilburn a curious glance before bowing—actually bowing—to Zuha.
“Welcome home, Lady Frostbite,” they said in unison. The man accepted the keys to the jaguar, which Zuha casually dropped into his waiting hands while the woman said, “Shall I put on a pot of tea, mistress?”
Zuha shook her head. “This is most definitely a coffee night, Belinda.” She grinned. “Extra cream, please.”
Belinda gave a giggle. “Yes, mistress. I’ll bring it up to the lounge.”
Zuha strode past them, stopping in the doorway to glance back over her shoulder at Wilburn with a smirk. He’d gotten out of the Jaguar, but hadn’t moved beyond that, more than a little taken aback at the opulent display of wealth. He’d had no idea Zuha was this well off. And what was with that odd nickname the maid had used? Giving the maid a glance, he noticed a slight bulge just below the small of her back. A quick glance at the man revealed a similar bulge on his waist.
Guns, he realized. They were both armed with guns.
“Are you coming?” Zuha asked from the doorway.
Just what kind of world had he stepped into? “Yeah, but there’s something we need to do before anything else once we’re inside,” he said.
Both of the armed help bristled but Zuha did nothing but raise her eyebrows. “Oh?”
Psychic Awakening: A Dragon Shifter LitRPG Harem Psychic Thriller (Primus Vitae Book 1) Page 3