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

by Mike Truk

  Imogen was frowning in concentration. She extended a hand, and a light blue flicker of energy coalesced before her palm before sputtering out.

  “Wards stem from a belief that you deserve to be shielded,” said Neveah. Her voice was low, without effect. “She who believes herself worthless cannot ward herself. This both rewards colossal conceit and honest self-love. It can also lead to a cascading failure - if you begin to believe you don’t deserve to defend yourself, your ward will diminish, which can further reduce your sense of self-worth, and so on.”

  “Interesting,” I said. “So a precise insult could cause a ward to go down?”

  Neveah considered me. “If you could undermine a person’s sense of self-worth, then yes.”

  “Brielle,” I said, “I hereby place you on ward-breaking duty.”

  “All right,” said Imogen, sounding just a touch impatient. “Self-love, got it. Where do we go from there?”

  “As with most magic, it is hard to put into words. However. What you need to do is project your sense of being before you. Focus on the sensation that Anahata bestowed upon you, and then extend it out around you. Your ward is in a sense your very self. Your spirit. You must harness the power of your self-esteem, your self-worth, and raise it as a shield.”

  Emma raised a hand. “I’ve no idea what that means.”

  Brielle laughed.

  “It means,” said Imogen, “that you must use your self-esteem as armor. You must evoke the feeling of love and acceptance that Anahata arouses within you, then visualize it around you like a shield. The stronger you are able to evoke that sensation and the more vividly you can imagine it around you, the better.”

  “You done this before?” asked Brielle.

  “No,” said Imogen. “I’m deducing from general principles.”

  “Show off,” said Brielle.

  “She is correct,” said Neveah. “Focus on love, then imagine it about you. Visualize as best you can. It is said that wards appear as spheres because they are the easiest to imagine, but as you refine your control and advance in your circles, you will be able to shape your ward as you see fit.”

  “Or use it judiciously,” said Imogen. “Like those people who can summon the entirety of their ward before a single blow, and not distribute it all around them in a sphere.”

  “Let’s focus on the basics,” I said. “Everybody ready?”

  Around the pool, everyone nodded. Little Meow had joined us around the pool’s perimeter. “I’ve never had much luck with this aspect of Anahata. But where I come from, it’s reserved for a select subsect of practitioners.”

  “So you’re going to give it a shot?” asked Emma.

  “Why not? That subsect and its belief system are long gone.” Little Meow adjusted her mask. “Might as well grow with the rest of you.”

  I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and focused on that sensation of love – trying to be the source of it, to feel it for myself.

  “It can help at first to think about sources of strength or pride,” said Neveah, voice soft. “Memories of your accomplishments, of loved ones.”

  I thought of my companions. Imogen smiling at me, a wicked curve to the corner of her lips, then that moment of complete euphoria in Tagimron when I’d opened Svadhisthana with her help. That moment of complete transcendental joy when we’d declared our love for each other.

  I thought of Emma saying goodbye to Michael in the manifold as she chose me, as she affirmed her love for me, for all that I was and could become.

  Of Brielle as she declared her love for me in turn, reluctantly, then with greater fervor - how her mockery and disdain had become something true and pure.

  My admiration and love for Neveah, tempered still by uncertainty and wariness, but strong enough to have allowed me to pull myself along her blade when she’d thrust it through my chest within the Manifold.

  How that had been enough to break her out of her universe-spanning curse.

  And Valeria. Valeria holding me as the babashti had come pouring down upon us, had swept us apart with their talons; how she’d believed in me, trusting me enough to lower her hand, to not insist on victory on any cost.

  Love.

  I thought of the nervous, insecure boy I’d been when first summoned to Bastion. How I’d been so ashamed when I’d pissed myself - my terror, my uncertainty.

  How long it had taken me to believe in myself.

  That I was the Savior.

  That I’d been chosen on purpose.

  That there’d been no mistake, and I was the universe’s last hope.

  How I’d finally accepted that truth, and with that knowledge, with that confidence, defeated Victor. Defeated the Enigma. And would now defeat Morgana.

  I was the Savior. I was loved. And I would fight through pain and torture, defeat and despair, to the bitter end.

  Nothing could stop me.

  Something stirred within my chest, something that felt like my heart skipping a beat; then confidence, surety, a flowering sense of self-worth blossomed within my breast and blazed forth.

  I opened my eyes. I could feel Anahata revolving deep within me, but I was now surrounded by a perfect sphere of platinum-gold light, as thin and translucent as a bubble.

  For a moment it was all I could do to stare in wonder, then I laughed with delight. The sphere’s surface warped, and the ward fell away.

  “I did it!” I shouted, punching the air with elation.

  Around me, the others were wrestling with their own wards. Neveah had summoned a dark purple sphere about herself, one just barely large enough to encompass her frame.

  Imogen was grimacing as a light blue sphere flickered into existence then disappeared, over and over again.

  Emma was surrounded by a nimbus of cool, green light, which had expanded out several yards from where she stood.

  Brielle was also wrestling with her own. A hand was extended as if to unleash a blast of fire, a sphere of the deepest crimson blazing across with swirls of yellow coalescing and faltering about her.

  I turned to Valeria with reluctance and saw that she’d had no luck. She stood, hands clenched into fists, chin lowered, brow beaded with sweat. She was breathing heavily, her whole frame tense, and nothing surrounded her.

  Not even a flicker.

  Fuck.

  “Everyone, leave the room,” I said.

  Emma’s soapstone-green ward flickered out of existence. Neveah turned to consider me without dropping hers.

  Brielle gave out a snort of frustration and blew a lock of crimson hair out of her face. “Noah, I’ve almost got it.”

  “Now,” I said, and something in my tone caught their attention.

  “When did he get so pushy?” asked Brielle, linking her arm through Emma’s as they began walking toward the bedroom, Little Meow a step behind.

  “You’d think he’s been spending time with royalty,” said Emma.

  Imogen’s glance was sharp as she looked from me to Valeria, and without a word, she left as well.

  Neveah had somehow disappeared while I was looking away.

  Valeria was the last to leave, moving with sullen defiance toward an archway, head lowered.

  “Not you,” I said, and she drew up short.

  “What?” she asked, voice low, defiant.

  “Wait.”

  I watched as the others walked away, then approached.

  “Are you going to give me an inspirational speech?” asked Valeria, pushing her shoulders back and glaring at me. “Because if so, we can skip it. I’m not in the mood.”

  “What the fuck is your problem?”

  Her head snapped back as if I’d kicked her in the teeth.

  “My problem? What the hell do you mean?”

  “Exactly what I said.” I stood before her, hands on my hips, staring hard into her eyes. I then realized that I was now physically more imposing than she was. Broader, more muscled. While I’d always been taller, I now had enough presence that I could loom over her.
“Answer the damn question.”

  “It’s not my fault I can’t summon a damn ward,” she growled. “Magic’s never been my thing. And Anahata, needing me to love myself, what rot, I am what I am, I wield a blade, I cut down anything that gets in my way, but suddenly I need to hug myself to move up the ladder?”

  “Bullshit,” I said, swiping at the air with a cutting motion. “I want to know why you’re feeling so sorry for yourself. Why you’re acting the victim.”

  Her eyes widened in outrage. “Victim? You think I’m feeling sorry for myself?”

  “I don’t think it, I know it. I can see it right before me.”

  “How dare you,” she said, voice low and lethal. “I’m doing everything I can to help you, and it’s not good enough. But you want to insult me on top of that?”

  “I’m just calling it how it is. What I want to know is, where’s the woman who stepped forward to help me in Bastion gone? The warrior who was tough as nails and twice as resolved to do whatever it took?”

  “She’s not good enough!” Valeria’s cry echoed off the walls. “Is that what you want to hear? She can cleave just about anything in two, but magic? Spells? Flight? Throwing bolts of magic? I’m out of my depth! I can’t help you, I’m not good enough, I’m holding you back, and -”

  She cut off abruptly.

  “And what?” I asked.

  She looked down and away. “Nothing.”

  “And what?” I asked again, voice hard as iron.

  Valeria looked back up to me, and her blue eyes were cold as steel. “And you don’t love me as much as the others.”

  I laughed, and she colored, her brow lowering.

  “I don’t love you as much as the others?” I shook my head. “What has gotten into you, Valeria? Where along the way did I lose track of how you were doing?”

  “You don’t,” she said, voice surly. “Anyone can tell. I’ve been wrestling with this for months now. You adore Imogen, you’ve loved Emma since you were kids, you’ve been drooling over Brielle since she first insulted you, and Neveah’s a goddess of war. Me? I’m just a brutish idiot that can swing an ax, and you’ve no use for me anymore -”

  “Enough,” I said.

  “It’s true! We’ve been over this, but no matter what you say, the fact remains! I can barely tap Muladhara, can’t even summon a ward, and now we’re going into our most lethal battles yet, where I’ll be just dead weight!”

  I shook my head slowly. “How could you be so wrong?”

  “I’m not wrong,” she growled, looking away. “And words won’t change that. Won’t change anything.”

  “You think I don’t love you?” I moved in closer, forcing her to step back. “The woman who’s saved my life countless times? Whose strength is tempered by her wisdom, whom I depend on, whom I need more than she knows?”

  Valeria eyed me uncertainly. “Words.”

  “Not words! You forget what I said to you at the end of your trial in the manifold? What I said as the babashti came pouring down to destroy us?”

  She blushed and looked away.

  “You can never forget that I love you,” I said. “That your value in our group isn’t just your ability to wield a blade, but so much more. Without you, we would not have made it this far. Without you, we would be dead. You are a part of us, Valeria. You think brute force will make it past Lilith’s forces? You think this is a question of might? No. It’s a question of love. Of faith. Of trust. You know this. It’s what’s gotten us this far.”

  “That’ll never be enough,” she said.

  “You’re wrong. They’re our only true weapons.” The truth hit me even as I spoke the words. “They’re the only things we have that Lilith can’t touch, can’t understand. I’m sure that stronger teams have been led by more lethal Saviors before us, but they all failed. I mean, do you think we hold a candle to Pelleas and his team? But we’ve made it this far. And why? Because of our ability to love each other. To be strong together. I love each of you differently, but I don’t love each of you more or less.”

  “Not true,” she said, voice muted.

  “It is true. By the Source, Valeria, you’re determined to not believe me. And I can tell you this: you were approved by the Source. We passed our first trial together back in Bastion, cementing the Source’s approval of you being with me. And if you’re not growing now, if you’re feeling left behind? It’s because you’re holding yourself back. It’s your lack of faith, not your lack of talent. You don’t believe you’re worth it, and so you’re not.”

  I reached out and took her hand.

  She pulled it away.

  “You are worth it. The Source believes it. I believe it. But you must believe it, too.”

  “I signed up to fight for you,” said Valeria. “Not put myself through some extended psychological torment.”

  “What the fuck happened to you during those last weeks on your home planet?” I asked. “What’s coming up now that’s holding you back this badly?”

  She flinched. “I - I did what I had to do to survive.”

  “Yeah, you’ve said as much. But that secret is crippling you now. So just tell me. What did you do?”

  She went pale, half-turning away.

  “Valeria?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Fuck, we’re still going to have secrets? After all we’ve been through? I’ve seen Imogen’s past, and let me tell you, that was dark. I know Brielle’s greatest secret, and in sharing it, she’s grown strong. And nothing - absolutely nothing - can compare to what happened to Neveah.”

  Valeria clenched her jaw, said nothing.

  “You don’t open up, we’re going to lose,” I said softly. “You keep harboring this resentment, this self-hatred, we’re going to lose. I can feel it, Valeria. Feel Lilith insinuating herself between us. Is that what you want? To fall to bitterness and anger? It’s not too late. We can still fix this. Talk to me, Valeria. Share what happened. Tell me what’s got you so twisted up. Trust me and help me banish this darkness.”

  She took a shuddering breath then hung her head. “Those last weeks… they were madness. We were dying by the hundreds as we fled. Torn apart by night, attacked by day. There was no hope. Nothing left to fight for. So many just laid down their weapons and walked toward the enemy.”

  “But not you,” I said.

  “Not me.” Her voice was leaden. “I couldn’t stop. Couldn’t give up. My Wraithbone armor had been destroyed. It was me and my ax and a dozen sisters. We’d lost so many to corruption. To parasites that would enter the brain and turn their victims to puppets. Who’d wait for the right moment to betray us, attacking when we were at our weakest, then erupt into spores that would infect everyone around them when stabbed.”

  I listened intently, not interrupting.

  “I woke up one morning to find a discarded shell from a parasite on our cavern floor. It had entered one of us, perhaps several of us had been infected. There was panic. Nobody knew who to trust. One or more of us was lying, had been turned, but there was no way to tell.”

  She paused, swallowed, and took another deep breath.

  “Things got ugly. Tempers snapped. One of my sisters demanded I leave the cavern and cool off. I refused. She shoved me - and I… I…”

  Tears formed in her eyes.

  “I cut her down. I wasn’t myself. Screams. My sisters drew their weapons, declared that I was infected. They came at me. I kept yelling at them to stop. To stop, to leave me alone, but they wouldn’t - they kept coming, and I cut them down, I cut them down, one after another, killed them all.”

  Silence. I waited, shocked, not knowing what to say.

  “I was feverish. Maddened. I fled. Somehow, I survived crossing the countryside by myself. I couldn’t explain it, why Lilith’s creatures allowed me to pass. I found another enclave of refugees. I gained admittance, was given food and shelter. Then… then that night, I…”

  Tears coursed down her cheeks. “I got up. I got my
ax. And I killed everyone. I didn’t know why. I felt this hatred, this overwhelming anger, everything felt so futile, so pathetic. I wanted to put people out of their misery, to end their pathetic planning, to make them accept it was all over. I killed them all. I was unstoppable. And when I was done, I fled again, driven like a hound, running ragged over the heaths, stopping only to drink from puddles in the ground.”

  Her whole body was shaking.

  “I found a third group. Tried the same ploy. Lied. Heard myself lying, couldn’t stop. They took me in but were suspicious. When I arose that night, they were ready. I still managed to kill a number of them, but they pinned me, tied me up.”

  Valeria’s eyes were wide as she stared at nothing, lost to her own memories.

  “Amongst them was a dog soldier, a healer. He removed the parasite. The process nearly killed me. It had burrowed… had burrowed into my… he took it out, crushed it. I came back to myself.”

  “Fuck,” I said. “Valeria…”

  “I lost my mind. I raved, managed to escape. Took up my ax and ran at the enemy. I wanted it to end. I wanted to die fighting. Would have died if I hadn’t met with a war party fleeing toward the Silver Caravel. They took me in, thought me war-mad, broken as almost everyone else was. They restrained me, took care of me. My anger left. I became docile. Fled with them, fought beside them. Spoke to nobody. Fought so recklessly they called me a hero. They didn’t know. Couldn’t know what I’d done.”

  Her voice had dropped to a whisper. “It didn’t matter. They all died. Everyone died. We reached the Caravel, and there made our last stand. Death. Death everywhere. Good people, dying. Cowards, dying. Screams. The screams of prisoners being tortured by the enemy just outside reach. My ax. Cutting, chopping down, again and again. Blood everywhere. Retreating up the Caravel, unable to breathe, to think. Babashti as far as the eye could see. The plain swarmed with them.

  “And then I was alone, the last one, everyone dead, everyone gone, and only I was left, who didn’t deserve to live. It was then that the Source took me, brought me to Bastion. A split second before I hurled myself off the uppermost ridge of the Caravel to dive down upon the enemy and end it all.”