“What have you done?” Karl exclaimed as he sat up from the gurney, his eyes staring accusingly down at his chest. “What have you done to me?”
I took a step back as the process completed its horrid transformation across the man’s body, leaving fresh healthy skin behind it. Karl’s eyes narrowed in anger as he rose from the gurney. With an audible smack, a telekinetic thread smashed against my shoulder, sending me spinning. If I’d had the energy a shield would have sprung up around me, but most of my strength had been expended in the procedure. My shoulder throbbed from where I’d been hit, but I used my telekinetic framework that kept me standing to send myself flying backwards into the air as another slash from the enraged Karl smashed the ground where I had been lying.
“What have you done to me?” Karl growled again, his voice a deep timbre and strong. Muscle tone and strength formed on his body as he stalked forward to finish me off. He may have gotten in the first strike, but I was far from helpless. My leap hadn’t exactly been one of desperation; it had placed me closer to the door and allowed me to keep the gurney between us. With a flick of my wrist I sent the gurney sliding towards him.
I didn’t wait around to see what happened. I heard Karl shout and a loud thump as I threw myself through the doorway and braced against the sturdy examination room door behind me. I needed to get out of there while I was still vulnerable.
“You can’t run from me!” Karl screamed. Several thumps slammed into the door. He was getting stronger, but that was okay – so was I.
Every second I could feel the Mana regenerating, making me more powerful. With a dry smile I raised a shield around myself and shivered as the familiar sensation wrapped around me like a second skin. There was no danger now. Karl wasn’t powerful enough to overcome my shield. The only problem that remained was how to calm him down sufficiently to find out what had gone wrong? I had somehow restored his youth and vitality. That hadn’t been the plan, and judging from the smashing against the wooden door, he wasn’t that pleased about it either.
How the hell had that happened? I was positive that I had used the same technique I had used on Gabriel. How could it function one way in one instance and the complete opposite in another instance?
With a flick of my wrist I disbarred the door and was immediately assaulted by several threads against my shield. They were painfully weak and barely registered against my defences. Karl threw himself at me, shuddering in pain as his fists smashed against my shield. I was forced to take several steps back under the weight of his assault.
“It hurts!” he howled in fury. “Make it stop!”
It hurts? Was he referring to his shoulder? No, that seemed to have healed itself. At first I was bewildered, but then I realised what was happening. The man had gone for so long without functional nerve endings and had been in state of almost complete isolation. The cold air must have felt like thousands of small stabbing needles into his flesh.
Fortunately creating a shield was beyond his skills, so there was nothing to stop my sorcery from taking effect. At first I contemplated hitting him with a disrupt effect, but I quickly discounted that idea. If the air was agony for him, then I couldn’t imagine what the pain of the disrupt effect across his nerves would be.
I grasped him around the forehead and began work. I delved my sorcery deep into his core as I sought out each of his nerve endings and numbed them. Eventually Karl stopped struggling and fighting me as each of his nerve endings were suppressed. He eventually gave a small sigh and sagged into my arms as he lost consciousness.
I gently wrapped a telekinetic thread around him, put the overturned gurney back on its feet, and placed him on it. I didn’t know how long he would remain unconscious but I was sure that I would need to have some answers when he revived. If I understood the technique from Victor’s spell book, his nerve sensitivity would restore slowly so he wouldn’t be bombarded. Hopefully his body would adapt to the unfamiliar sensation and he would be able to cope with the feeling of air on his skin. I couldn’t imagine what that must have felt like when you’re used to feeling nothing – it was probably like the worst case of pins and needles across your entire body.
I glanced down at Karl’s inert form as began my work. This time I took the precaution of looping the straps on the side of the gurney to his wrists. This precaution was most likely a waste of time, however, as the leather on the straps looked aged and probably wouldn’t be able to withstand much pressure. It was a miracle that it was even still intact – I guess that’s German engineering for you.
As I examined the thread I could see the vast differences caused by my interference. The old thread only regenerated existing cells; however, this new thread appeared to be prompting cellular growth. This would explain the vast differences in Karl’s appearance. His whole body was undergoing complete cellular rebirth.
Was this what Victor had been attempting to do? It certainly wasn’t what he had achieved. I had restored youth and vigour to Karl. Victor appeared to be locked into a state of perpetual stasis. He didn’t seem to be ageing, but he didn’t look young and healthy. If I had to place a bet, I’d say that he had remained locked into the age he had been when he had first performed the sorcery on himself.
As I followed the threads through Karl’s inert body, I couldn’t even begin to fathom where I’d gone wrong, but I was now in the same position that I had been in originally. There was no nexus point that I could strike to end the process. Any attempt to disrupt the effect would be washed away as the Mana within the man renewed itself. I somehow needed to corrupt the process to achieve a different end, but I had no idea how to do that.
At the core of things, the human body is a very well organised series of processes. Trying to destroy those processes externally wouldn’t take effect now that Karl’s body was in a state of advanced mitosis.
More in futility than anything else, I attempted to disrupt the effect – I didn’t think this would yield any valuable results, but it was worth a try. As expected, the disrupt spread through his body, but was ultimately only responsible for negating the Mana for a short time. The last time I had tried this, Karl’s body had been in such an advanced stage of decay that it had almost killed him - the Mana was literally the only thing keeping him alive. This time the effect was minimal as his body was in a much better state now. It was no different from what I would have expected had I used the same effect on myself. On Karl, the effect only caused pain and an increased difficulty to control the Mana.
I applied the numbing effects to his body once again as I considered my options. There was nothing that I could do for the man now and should I wake him I was sure he wouldn’t thank me for the experience. This really only left one option. I tied the numbing threads into his own internal Mana processes. His own Mana would now keep him inert and unconscious. This was the only small gift I could give him now while I returned to my books on Necromancy to continue my studies. I owed him that much at least.
After six hours with Victor’s damned spell books I’d still come up with nothing. It was infuriating that somehow Victor had broken one of the natural laws of biology and I couldn’t figure out a way to undo it. The natural law that everything ends should have been simple to restore, but it was strangely elusive. For all my studies and tampering, it seemed that once immortality had been granted it was impossible to remove.
This whole process hadn’t worked out the way I had hoped. I needed more information – information that I didn’t have. The spell books that Victor had left behind contained notes and results from his failures. I needed the document that detailed his success, but I didn’t think that such a document existed any longer. There was only one way that I was going to get the information I needed. I’d have to face Victor once again.
May had claimed that Victor was hunting people through the Mana, but that didn’t explain why he hadn’t come after me. He must have known I was still around – true, I wasn’t as powerful as I had been in my former glory, but I was still a thr
eat. Especially once he found out that I was following in his footsteps and learning Necromancy. I would be a target too hard to resist. So why hadn’t he come for me?
I didn’t know and that concerned me. I suppose I could ask him when I found him, but I had no idea where Victor was. The good news was that I knew someone who did.
I teleported out.
* * * * * *
“Hello, old friend,” I murmured as the light flicked on suddenly. I was blinded as I had up until now been sitting in almost complete darkness. That was okay though, I didn’t need to see the intruder to be able to tell who it was.
“Devon, I.. uhh wasn’t expecting you.” Levenon’s voice broke as he fought to gain control of himself.
“No, I would imagine not,” I replied dryly as I swung around on his office chair. I almost wished I had a white cat sitting on my lap as I spun around. It always looked so classy when the Bond villains did that. It wasn’t quite as impressive in real life.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” he continued. I could see from the look on Levenson’s face that he was buying time, contemplating something stupid. His left hand twitched near the side arm at his belt.
“I’m not here to kill you,” I murmured, casually helping myself to his private stash of whiskey.
My assurances didn’t seem to alleviate Levenson’s concerns any. “Then why are you here?”
“Can’t I visit an old friend?” I muttered as I rose from the chair. Levenson took a step back.
“Cut the bullshit, Devon,” he snarled, his hand trailing down to his holster.
“You know that won’t do you any good, even with those fancy bullets of yours,” I grunted. I gestured with my glass towards his gun. With a flick of my wrist I telekinetically poured another glass and sent it trailing over to him. “Besides, I’m just here to talk.”
“What do we have to talk about?” Levenson asked nervously. He chugged his drink in one gulp, his face twisting as the whiskey burned on the way down.
“I’m looking for Victor Whittlesea.”
“I don’t know…”
“Don’t lie to me!” I cut him off harshly. “I’m not stupid and I can see his hand in recent events.”
“How did you know?” Levenson sighed as he made his way to the bar.
“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” I replied calmly. “You’re trying to reset the board – bring everything back to the way it was. For that to happen you need my kind to disappear. You can’t kill us and you were losing the conventional war.”
Levenson nodded as he made himself another drink.
“But you and I both know that the war never really mattered.”
“We were losing,” Levenson interrupted. “It was a simple matter of numbers.”
“So you approached him?” I pressed. “What? Six months ago? A year? Two years?”
“I didn’t find him – he found me. A year ago.”
“What did he offer?”
“The old world,” Levenson explained as he sipped this drink. “Where your kind were nothing more than a myth.”
I scoffed. “You thought you could brush all this away?”
“If your kind were all dead,” Levenson murmured, “or at least those who chose to show themselves, things could return to the way they were.”
“Including those of us who helped you,” I whispered dryly.
“Everyone,” Levenson said, his voice little more than a gasp. Kristoff had been right. He had been on the wrong side. One by one, Levenson had turned on us and given our locations to Victor.
“Why you? Why now?”
“Because we were losing. He knew that we would agree to such demands. I guess he simply had to wait until there was a clear winner, and we were desperate enough to agree to it.”
It made perfect sense. Victor would preserve those among his kind who he determined deserved it, all the while convincing the rest of the world that those who had started this war had died in it. We would become nothing more than a footnote in history. It was a good plan – the only problem was that it was bullshit. We would never remain hidden; Victor would be forced to kill almost all of us, and even then that would only delay the problem. Eventually we would become numerous enough again that this process would repeat. Returning to the old ways was not a valid solution here. It was a dream – a dream of those who no longer lived in this world, but longed for a world that was no longer possible.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know,” Levenson began, until he noticed my expression. “But I know where he’s going to be tomorrow night.”
“Where?” I said suspiciously.
“There’s a dinner party.”
I raised an eyebrow. That seemed like an odd place to find him.
“He’s masquerading as a general,” Levenson explained. “He needs the legitimacy – he’ll be there. Most of the senior command will be there. It’s to celebrate our victory.”
“Are you invited?”
Levenson nodded. This might work out for the better; with so many norms around I could get close enough to Victor to do what I needed to.
“Very well, we’ll go together. You can get me in.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because if you don’t, I will kill you.”
There were several seconds of silence as Levenson acknowledged the threat. “Fine,” he sighed resignedly.
“Only one thing remains,” I whispered as I rose from Levenson’s office chair.
“What?” Levenson took several steps back.
“To ensure your loyalty,” I murmured as I flicked a wrist, closing and locking the door behind us.
In one swift motion Levenson brought his gun forward, and to my surprise he actually got off one shot before I destroyed the weapon.
“Someone will have heard the shot,” Levenson snarled as he threw the tattered weapon to the ground.
“It doesn’t matter,” I whispered with a smile as I closed in on the man.
Levenson raised his arms as if to throw a punch - I really had to admire his courage. It was useless, but a good indication of his character: continue fighting way past the point of preferred capitulation. This was why I liked him so much.
With a delicate thread sent straight into his chest, I built a Mana construct that would render him immobile. The Mana would attack his nerves and send him into a state of paralysis. It was similar to the Mana I had used on Karl, except in this instance I wanted him awake and conscious.
“I wonder if you could have possibly have predicted this,” I murmured conversationally, “when you pulled my dying body from the ruins of Melbourne.”
Levenson couldn’t talk, but I could see well enough from his expression what he wanted to say.
“You thought yourself so clever, so able to predict and manipulate the outcome you wanted,” I continued in the face of his baleful stare. “Did you see this happening? No, probably not. Self-sacrifice wouldn’t have come easy to the likes of you.”
I moved closer to the man as I began my work. For all his comments on “your kind”, Levenson had once been one of our kind, but he had burned out at a young age, which had nullified his powers. It happens occasionally to apprentices who push themselves too hard. It had happened to me, but fortunately I had recovered. Levenson had not.
As I followed the trail of electrical signals through his nerves, I could see evidence of the damage: the channels were still there, they were just twisted and scarred as his body had healed the damage. I could see trace elements of the Mana in his body from long ago. Once the process had been damaged his body, he had gone into shock and stopped producing the necessary hormones required for Mana production. The body adapted and life continued.
But it didn’t have to be that way.
I could see the fear and pain in the man’s eyes as I conducted my examination. I was gentle, but this was an invasive procedure, and I was sure that once I was finished he would be forever changed. He wouldn’t thank me for i
t, but I needed to ensure he was appropriately motivated for what was going to come next.
I couldn’t heal the damage to his Mana pathways, but new pathways could be created if the host was stimulated correctly. With surgical precision, I began the process. The production of hormones occurred almost immediately and the body went into shock as a process long forgotten began once again. I smiled with satisfaction as I saw the first small glimmers of Mana particles begin to form within the pathways. The process would intensify until full Mana production ensued within the host.
I watched as the pain intensified behind Levenson’s inert eyes, I could have nullified this pain, but I wanted him to experience it. He had tried to kill me and there needed to be a consequence. I had promised I wouldn’t kill him, and I was going to keep that promise. What I was going to do could perhaps have been considered a gift. He wouldn’t see it as such, but an argument could be made.
Levenson wouldn’t have had any idea what was going on. Eventually his eyes widened. I saw the tell-tale iris expansion that came with Mana sight. He was finally seeing me as I truly was.
“You will need to take it easy for the next few hours - the pain will be severe,” I muttered harshly as I removed my threads.
Levenson immediately staggered back and I thought he was going to fall, he caught himself on the bench and brought his hands to his head.
“What have you done?” he gasped, his fists clenched.
“You know what I’ve done,” I replied firmly. “I’ve restored your powers.”
“That’s not possible!” he shrieked. “I begged my master! He said it wasn’t possible!”
“As you can see, it is.”
“Why?” he gasped. “Why now?”
“Because with your powers returned, Victor will kill you along with the rest of us,” I answered him. “You’re going to have to work very carefully if you want to survive this.”
Mage Emergence Page 22