The Ravens of Death (Tsun-Tsun TzimTzum Book 4)

by Mike Truk

  Oh, by the fucking Source, said Brielle. Are you trying to be pig-headed on purpose?

  No, said Valeria. I’m just trying to understand why my every effort and sacrifice hasn’t been good enough in the eyes of the Source.

  No, said Brielle, floating toward her. You’re on a pity trip. You’re playing at comparisons with something that can’t be judged like that. Each relationship stands alone. There is no better relationship here.

  Easy for you to say, said Valeria. Your fucking thread is on fire.

  Yes, it is easy for me to say, said Brielle, because I know what I’m talking about. I’ve spent my whole adult life comparing myself to my sister. Finding fault with everything I did, dreaming about how much better a job she’d have done if she were in my place. Feeling like shit no matter how large my victory, feeling like I deserved it each time I failed. I know what it means to compare yourself, especially when it’s a bullshit comparison. But I’ve learned to stop doing that. Noah showed me how in the manifold. I’ve learned to judge myself according to my own value, not some imagined, impossibly unfair scale I could never top.

  Valeria crossed her arms. Good for you.

  Wake up, Valeria! A flicker of fire leaped off Brielle’s frame. What I’m saying is, I understand what you’re feeling. Bitter, insecure, unappreciated, depressed, trapped, insufficient - all of it. And now, from the other side, I can see that it was all my own doing. My sister was never competing with me. I’m not competing with you. Nor is Emma or Imogen. Because this isn’t a competition. We’re all on the same side. And your thread will catch fire. It just means you’re walking a different path than I am. But first, you must set aside your bitterness. You must stop seeing this as a competition, or a judgment on you.

  Brielle’s words hung in the crimson light of my Muladhara-tinted magic. Valeria placed her hands on her hips and hung her head, her golden curls falling before her face.

  Nobody spoke.

  Nobody moved until Emma floated forward to wrap her arms around Valeria’s shoulders.

  It’s all right, she whispered. I’ve spent almost all of this journey feeling terrible and useless and looking up to you. Admiring you. Being amazed by your strength, your brilliance, your courage. It’s only now that I’m not feeling like a waste of space. Feeling like maybe, just maybe I have a chance of becoming your equal in some way. Please don’t feel down about yourself. You’re one of the most amazing people I have ever met.

  The tension went out of Valeria’s shoulders, and she leaned into Emma’s embrace.

  I’m sorry, she said. I just want so badly to do well.

  We all do, I said. And you have. And after what we’re about to do? You’re going to be amazed. So come over here, Valeria. To where you belong. With us.

  Yes, said Valeria, and together she and Emma rejoined our group. And I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.

  Imogen gave her a one-armed hug, while Brielle offered an encouraging nod.

  All right. The Siva Mantra. It’ll lower our defenses and enable me to entangle our sanskaras. There’s a phrase that it’s keyed to that you need to learn. Ready?

  I spoke the words of power that the Wandering Magus had taught me, then repeated them over and over again till everyone could say them perfectly, capturing not just the sounds of the words but infusing them with their very soul essence:

  The self within me sees the self within you; the self within me accepts the self within you.

  Over and over I had them repeat the words till they became a drone, the individual words losing all meaning and becoming sounds, sounds which acted as portals for emotion, a channel for our essences.

  And something wondrous happened. A sensation of awakening, as if I were exhaling and opening my eyes for the first time, just as my companions were. I felt pulses from each of them, pulses of intentionality tinctured with their essences, and even without looking I could tell which came from which.

  Walls were melting between us - natural walls, divisions between ourselves that ruled the universe: space, time, essence.

  I inhaled, and it was like breathing glory. My heart was racing, racing, but I couldn’t control it, couldn’t reach for the Vam Mantra, didn’t want to restrict the emotions burning through me.

  It was like turning on a tap. Going from a still, quiet world where you were alone, a self, undivided, to suddenly thrusting your hand into a raging river, thrusting your very soul into a waterfall of sensation and desire, love and insecurity, pride and resolve.

  I heard laughter; I didn’t know who it came from, or whether it was me laughing. My whole body was aflame with power, and I felt full and dangerous, capable of crushing worlds with an outflung hand. My companions were burning brightly around me, and the temptation to get lost in that sensation was near overwhelming. I longed to simply revel in feeling these women I loved merging with me. Their strengths, the flavor of their personality, how they fit so well with different facets of myself.

  But no.

  There was a purpose to this. A goal.

  It took an almost superhuman level of effort to wrench my mind free of that deluge of sensation and delirious joy.

  What had we been trying to accomplish?

  Oh. Right.

  I croaked out the words the Wandering Magus had spoken, a pale imitation of his incantation. A spell whose complexity had defied my comprehension at the time, but which I spoke now as if it had been a prayer I’d whispered each night since childhood.

  A declaration of devotion.

  A declaration of selflessness, and through that, abnegation, the creation of a greater whole, a community of souls, a union into something immeasurably greater.

  My companions formed a circle around me, taking up hands; my ears were filled by a rushing roar, as if we stood in the center of a conflagration, a hurricane of flame. Golden light was burning off the bodies of my companions like flares off the surface of the sun, their forms simplifying, glowing ever brighter.

  And still I spoke, still I chanted that spell, binding us closer, aligning our sanctums.

  I could see them now.

  I visualized them overlaid where each companion stood.

  Imogen’s, slick with Harmiel. Valeria’s and Emma’s, clear and without detail. Brielle’s, suffused with the force of her will. Neveah’s, a torrid mass of corruption that made me want to retch.

  I gathered each one, collecting them in the palm of my hand, and behind them all I summoned my own reservoir, wherein Manipura, Svadhisthana, and Muladhara burned.

  Power was pulsing into me in ever greater quantities. The very fabric of the universe felt malleable.

  What to do with it? How to direct that power?

  The rushing roar was everything, and I felt a bleak gaze upon me. Looking up, I saw those twin eyes staring down, predatory and cruel, watching me, waiting, waiting to see what I would do.

  Would I cleanse Imogen, wipe away her Hexenmagic?

  No.

  Instead, I turned my full attention upon Neveah, upon her corrupted sanctum.

  And with a cry, I unleashed the power that I had built up, that torrent of magical might and love, powered by each companion, and directed it at the vast foulness that swamped her so.

  Chapter 5

  Power roared forth from within me; a torrent of inchoate might that flew at once toward Neveah’s glowing form and across my reservoir to pour through her aperture, into her corrupted sanctum.

  She screamed.

  The sound was like scalding water. Despite everything we’d been through, all the traumas and tragedies, I’d never heard Neveah scream like this. A raw, panicked sound, as if a regular girl had plunged her hand deep into a bed of smoldering crimson coals.

  But I didn’t stop.

  Our power flooded her sanctum, into that morass of black ichor and oozing corruption, immediately burning away the stalactites and stalagmites that reached for each other. It burst the columns that had formed, scouring the black virulence away to reveal the
pale surface of her sanctum walls.

  But the corruption reformed, spilling forth endlessly, only to be blasted away again by the churning golden light.

  For an agonizing moment that seemed to last forever, I had no thoughts. I just leaned into the effort, drawing on my companions, on my love for Neveah, and willed the corruption to be burned away. I felt like the sun, blazing forth upon the rank rot exposed beneath a flipped-over log. I wanted to burn, to destroy, to remove so completely that there would be no sign of that corruption ever again.

  But it bubbled up endlessly, a geyser without limit, black foulness rising with ever greater force to meet my onslaught.

  I gritted my teeth, growing angry; I felt invulnerable, my might uncontestable, yet the corruption refused to give way.

  I reached deep, pulled on the channels between my companions and me, and leaned into the attack, opening myself ever wider to Neveah, pouring forth that raging torrent with even more force.

  I was a blaze of endless fire, reducing the corruption to the finest of ash, but a patina remained, regenerating without fail. The roar of our magic was tremendous, mind-shaking, and I felt my essence growing raw, fraying at the edges from the sheer volume I was channeling.

  Still, it wasn’t enough.

  Neveah had fallen to her knees, head bowed. What the fuck was going on? I was throwing enough might at her corruption to level mountains.

  I moved forward, left my companion circle behind, and flew to Neveah’s aperture. I looked within, through the furious deluge of golden fire. So much power was being forced through that the magic was being compacted, condensed into a fiery white light that was almost liquid, the pressure threatening to split the confines of her sanctum.

  I could sense it, the unity of her sphere beginning to give way. If I kept this up, I would tear her sanctum apart.

  I was losing.

  Utter refusal arose within my soul. I activated the Priyam Mantra, reducing the flow of power into her sanctum, and made my expenditure more efficient; I felt the confines of her being relax a fraction, easing back from being split apart.

  Om nashta vahkaya prim; om nashta vahkaya priyam.

  What should… the Siva Mantra.

  Yes.

  I had to double down.

  I released the Priyam Mantra and began to chant the Siva.

  The self within me sees the self within you.

  My essence doubled, superimposed over her own, and I reached forth blindly with fumbling fingers of spirit to sense what was going on.

  There she was, somehow doubled - within my reservoir on her knees, and floating within her sanctum. And there was a core of dark density that took my breath away.

  Morghothilim, plunged through her chest, piercing her through and through.

  It was a conduit. The more corruption I blasted away, the more it spewed forth.

  With a savage growl, I entered her sanctum, feeling the oppressive weight of so much condensed power. It was far more intense than even that heavenly magic the Wandering Magus had poured into my reservoir back in Tagimron; far denser than anything I’d ever created with the First Mantra.

  Eyes slit, ears deafened by the ongoing roar, I floated forward to hang before Neveah’s spirit body. She hung as if unconscious, eyes closed.

  I reached forth, the ambient magic burning away the surface of my spirit body; the very air of this realm felt acidic.

  I clutched Morghothilim by the hilt, and, summoning every ounce of strength that remained to me, began to pull.

  Neveah’s scream came from the most desolate chambers of her soul.

  Her eyes flared open, her hair rising around her like a dark corona, and as the blade pulled forth, her hand latched around my wrist.

  But it wasn’t her hand.

  It had a black chitinous exterior, heavily ridged along the backs of her fingers, where it lightened to metallic crimson with a purple sheen.

  The force of her grip nearly shattered my wrist.

  I felt a jolt of pure terror, and my sternum blazed forth with pain where she’d stabbed me before within her manifold trial.

  The roar of magic blasting away her corruption slackened.

  Then I gritted my teeth, forced myself beyond the pain that was transfixing my core, and began to pull again.

  It was as if Morghothilim was a stopper plunged into her chest, holding back a vast reservoir of evil. With each millimeter that I drew forth, black and purple liquid spewed forth.

  Neveah’s grip tightened, and I felt the spirit bones within my wrist grind together.

  Her hair had grown into a vast mane, and I saw the chitinous armor spreading across her form.

  Drawing forth Morghothilim was awakening her inner demon.

  I paused, unable to think for the pain that plunged through my core, that memory of impalement.

  The self within me accepts the self within you, I whispered, returning to the Siva Mantra.

  For a moment I was juxtaposed over Neveah, feeling our bond, unearthly and undeniable as that of one between Savior and Companion. In that moment of unity, I realized that to draw forth Morghothilim by sheer violence would tear Neveah’s soul apart.

  It would unleash so much corruption into her sanctum that it would burst.

  Despite the pain, the horror, I could only marvel at the ocean of darkness that she carried within her soul, at the sheer vastness of corruption that was bottled up by Morghothilim within her core.

  Her spirit was nearly transformed into its demonic self. She loomed above me, wings barely visible through the undulating masses of black hair, her body elongated and armored.

  Her eyes were closed, her face the only part that would remain unchanged, but a single vertical line had appeared between her eyes.

  If she opened those - if she stared at me in her demon form - would it be too late? Would it cause some permanent transformation?

  The self within me.

  My hand was an iron bond upon Morghothilim’s hilt. If I should let go, if I should give up, what would that mean for Neveah? Her fate? What would I be accepting?

  The self within you.

  Neveah lifted her face, the vertical line deepening as she grimaced. Her wings stretched as far as they could go, and her segmented tail appeared, its wicked spearpoint gleaming in the burning golden glow of my magic.

  With a cry, I released Morghothilim.

  Her grip on my wrist immediately relaxed.

  I floated back, the roar of magic dying away, and watched as the exoskeleton began to fade, her wings shrinking away, her tail withdrawing.

  It took but moments, then Neveah hovered before me once more. Slender and human, floating with her eyes still closed, Morghothilim again sinking deep into her breast.

  And from the wound streamed forth corruption, black and jaundiced yellow, bilious green and toxic purple, to slick the walls around me. It grew thick and jellied, its turgid surface forming tormented faces which distended into oblivion, only to reform once more, mouths stretched in screams.

  I backed out of her sanctum, stunned, horrified.

  Ooze stretched down, reaching for a rising stalagmite, forming the first column.

  Her aperture narrowed, nearly closed.

  Shuddering, I returned to my companions, where Neveah still knelt, one hand clasped by Emma, the other by Valeria.

  Returning to my place in the center of the circle, I hung there, trying to process what had happened.

  I’d never been so powerful. I’d felt as if I could reach into the heavens and snuff out the sun.

  But this wasn’t a question of power. I would have killed Neveah if I’d insisted.

  It was a question of… what?

  The personal nature of her curse - drawing forth the corruption would awaken her inner demon. It would unleash incalculable amounts of darkness into our reservoirs.

  I shuddered again. It was as if we floated within a tiny submarine at the bottom of the Marianna Trench, and I’d nearly managed to wrest open a porthole wi
ndow.

  Neveah was sobbing; only Emma and Valeria’s hands were keeping her from keeling over.

  Draw in, I commanded.

  And they did, closing the circle about me, pressing in tight so once more we were a tight knit cluster, heads pressed together. Golden and crimson, brown and black.

  Golden light fountained up from our core, rising to refill my reservoir, replenishing the vast amounts that I’d just burned through in moments.

  My thoughts were roiling, tormented. I closed my eyes, centering myself.

  Vam Mantra time.

  All creation in a drop of water, I thought, and my horror began to abate, my confusion and anger soothing away. All creation before me.

  We hung there together, united, until my perplexity and frustration were reduced and held at a remove. I hadn’t extinguished those terrible emotions and fear, but simply placed them somewhere else for now, allowing me to focus on the moment at hand.

  I’m sorry, I said, as my companions drew back, looking to Neveah where she hung before me.

  There was no response. Her head was bowed, shoulders still shaking.

  What happened? asked Imogen.

  I shook my head. I can’t be sure. But I don’t think Neveah’s corruption can be removed from without. This is something that’s entangled with her very core. We’re going to need a more powerful, more subtle ritual.

  Thank you, whispered Neveah, still not looking up. Thank you for trying.

  We’re not done yet, I said, feeling grim certainty. We’re not defeated. Just our first attempt, is all. We’re going to keep trying.

  No response.

  But if we want to survive long enough to give it another shot, we’re still going to need to level up.

  I gazed from face to luminous face.

  Time for my second experiment.

  Brielle’s expression was solemn. What are you going to do?

  I’m kind of making this up as I go along. But we need wards. The only one of us who has awakened Anahata is Emma. So we’re going to focus on her, and through the Siva Mantra seek to… I can’t quite put it into words. Just follow my lead.

  All nodded in determination.