The Rokkaia Chronicles

by Rhys Thomas

  It read:

  Identification title: Inheritor.

  Race: Human*

  True name: Error assignment case- 41275f6g97kphhyun3op7#q.

  Alias: (Jonathan Marcs, Alaric Rosen.)

  Height: 6’7ft

  Weight: 88kg

  Soul-bound: Marisa Thal’lor Rokkaia.

  Marital relations, accolades and benefits: None.

  Present Power gage: -14%*

  Power Proficiency: 3%*

  Stamina: Abnormality*

  Strength: Abnormality*

  ^e8T#3r1{^^4N19uLaT10~

  “Okay… Where do I even begin?” I mumbled, running a hand over my face. “What does true name mean?” I asked Ra’al.

  “It mean’s exactly that. A True Name is the sum of your being thus granted a name. If another knows that name, they’ll hold power and sway over you.” He looked at the screen and shook his head. “Yours Is either unique because we, you and the system couldn’t find it. Or there was error with my system. Which is why I assigned a case number.”

  “The Alias?” I asked.

  “Is both in-case your name Jon Marcs is your - in fact - true name and the system just messed up. It hasn’t really been used in like never so,” he gave a shrug. “Or Jonathan Marcs isn’t your true name. Do you want to take that possibility? I wouldn’t that’s for sure.

  “The second name then?” I prompted.

  “So, Mari and I came up with Alaric Rosen as a contingency, Mari chose the name Alaric from Earthly histories; something about kings,” he waved a hand dismissively. “Rosen because… Well because your friend gave himself for you. To carry his name forth; we believed it would- should honour him.”

  So, my name was to be Alaric Rosen from now on. I quite liked the name in-fact, it sounded regal and civilised.

  “Going down the list,” Ra’al counted off. “Height, weight. Race, now this is unique. The Asterisk next to it means you’re something more. What?” he shrugged. “No idea.”

  “Soul-bond we know. Not married, yet. Now the important bit, power. Now Power gage and proficiency are different as you can see. Your gage,” He said and poked the word then slid his finger along to the-14%.

  “Is high actually considering my sister’s domain lack’s proper Ley-lines, you’ve got a high gage for a might-be-human created from nothing. Most in such a deficient area are at a gage of -100%. So, you’re 86% higher than average which is good, great even, the best we could ask for considering what you went through. Your gage in power is natural to you as an individual, nothing to do with me and this situation I assure you. It should also rise now that your here. Now your Proficiency is from me and other factors. I can emplace up to 3% power as of now within you. Which is what that is for.” He gestured with a wave at the portal of vertical molten fire. “We’ll inscribe runes throughout your body and allow access to the 3% immediately. Marisa will be tutoring you on control. As for your strength and stamina, I- I don’t rightly know. Guess you’ll need to test your limits,” he offered with a sharp toothed grin and a wink.

  Frowning, I felt Marisa’s smooth yet foreign presence worming in the back of my mind, I could somehow tell she was intrigued about the readings of my strength and stamina.

  “Alright let’s get to it then,” Ra’al said cracking his fingers.

  I was still moderately confused about how exactly Ra’al got these readings. But I knew better than to ask as questions seemed to lead only to more questions. I focused in on the last line, the garbled series of letters and numbers and wondered why Ra’al hadn’t mentioned them. But as I looked the words unravelled them. They looked at first like some child’s idea of a cool gamer tag name—like KL-Sniper-6969—except that every other letter was a number or symbol. Then they were clear, and I saw that it now read Aetheric manipulator, instead now. then the screen was moved away from me and I was hustled to stand before the portal. Transfixed.

  “Now in order to start the process you’ll need to extend your hands within the portal,” He explained and I my raised eyebrow.

  “It’s not. You know, going to melt my arms off when I do is it?” I asked him jokingly, but the severe expression that followed and silence he gave me. Made me uncertain.

  “Okay, do it now! Push your hands through till you’re just below your elbow!” He was shouting now, and I realised suddenly that a high pitch whirring sound was drowning all else out.

  I did as instructed before I could hesitate any longer. The fire from the portal was cool and my hands and arms ease through like it was made of custard.

  “Why the fuck am I doing this?” I hissed aloud, though no one answered me. Eventually after a few moments of blessed peace. The sound grew deafening It became something else, a shrieking painful noise. The more it grew my body began to shake and my teeth chattered, and my jaw ached. I tried to withdraw my hands to clutch my ears, but they wouldn’t budge. I turned my head but all that greeted me was darkness, I felt fluid leak from my nose; unsure if it was blood or snot I couldn’t tell, couldn’t even wipe the blasted thing. Then I could distantly make out Ra’als yelling voice, “just bear with it Alaric,” he shouted, using my new name. “Your body may begin to feel incredibly itchy which is most definitely normal… I think.” More noise and pain, the itchiness came and then burnt through my veins, flesh, nerves and bones.

  “That’ll just be runes appearing. All perfectly normal.” Unseen to me, runic script was burnt into my flesh and bones, carving an artistic set of symbols and glyphs. The burn spread throughout my whole body. Starting from my hands and palms, encompassing them fully. Then to my forearms and up through my shoulders. They spread like webbing across my chest and wings over my back, then covering my neck and behind my ears. My nose popped and a gush of metallic fluid seeped down and into my mouth. The burn arched up from behind my ears and over into my eyes, I couldn’t see, and I doubted that even after the fiery poker prodding my eyeballs I ever would again.

  The runes burned through my legs and feet, burned my ass, cock and balls. Worse. Fucking. Sunbed. Ever—was my first coherent retort, my second was a set of mental curses at my stupid self for being so fucking gullible.

  But then the intruder in my mind had a voice now, the skittering sensations I felt with Marisa was a permanent thing, a thick cord of thoughts from me to her. It’s difficult to describe the feeling of a voice that isn’t yours speaking in your head.

  At first it was intrusive, and I didn’t want any part of its insanity, as pain rack and burned it’s mark once again on my body. My mind tumbling chaotically.

  The worming between my temples eased and became a swell of calming waves, pressure I hadn’t even notice being built in my head drained in an instant, most of it gushing out through my nose. Leaving me and her with a room devoid of clutter in my mind. I knew it intuitively like I did my with my pocket dimension-thing. I’d have to figure out a name eventually.

  *Or you call it an inventory, my love,* came the not-so intrusive thought of Marisa’s. If I was going from game-logic, my ‘dimension plane’ was basically an inventory storage or just a massive bag of holding. So, inventory was a better and simpler term for it. Another game-logic I pulled up internally was that Marisa was basically my familiar.

  *I wouldn’t say that, but it is a close description, I guess. Now that you mention it, my size will definitely be smaller. You’ll not be having sex with your goddess for some time I’m afraid,* she thought to me wryly.

  I could feel a slight disappointment spark between us at that little piece of news. The burning from the runes were decreasing now, as they cooled throughout my body.

  The places I could still feel them burning most intently though was my arms, hands, eyes and ears. *Wait you’ll be smaller?* I queried and received a mental nod in return.

  *yes. Remember when I explained about expending my power to find you?* I nodded mentally, unable to physically as my body spasm with the lingering pain. *Well I’ll be expending more following you down to Viria, do not wo
rry for me love. I will not be without you again. Once you’ve mastered better control of your power, you’ll be able to begin channelling a portion of that energy into me. Eventually I’ll regain my size and return to my less... bestial state.*

  *I don’t; know, you could still be quite the animal,* I managed just as my body tilted forward and I felt myself being suctioned through into the custard portal. Panic seized my brain and a bit of pee escape me soaking my dress-skirt-thing.

  Marisa’s voice dialled into my mind once again, *fear not. You’re just transitioning through to Viria. I’ll be seconds behind you my love.*

  *Well a little a fucking forewarning would’ve been nice,* I mentally shouted back. *Wait! Didn’t Ra’al mention something about falling into Viria?*

  Whatever reply or advice Marisa could’ve passed to me was soundly cut off when I slumped through the portal and out into the open night sky of another world.

  A giant silvery moon lit up the sky with an ethereal white glow, far off behind that were several other moons or planets resting like dull orbs of light. It was a rather beautiful sight to see. Then gravity was course correcting me and my body began to plummet down to the earth.

  I tried to see beneath me, to gage the distance of my fall but the wind whipped my face so ferociously that I swear my eyes actually bled and I forced them shut.

  My arms and legs flailed about as I panicked and attempted to swim but the movement knocked me into a spin and my whole body rotated around so that I now fell ass end first.

  “Fuuuuck!” I screamed.

  I also realised that I still wore that stupid skirt Marisa had given me and nothing else. So, there I was falling from about 800-metres—or maybe less—the wind pressure whipping my bare ass blue, dick swinging about, screaming, “oh, fuck-fuck me. Fuck, oh Fuuuuck!” My arms stretched out above me and I saw a set of glinting pale green runes proceeding from my palms and the back of hands and out to where they circled my forearms and ended there.

  The script was the same runic-like language that I couldn’t read and eventually I got a little bored of falling.

  “Why is this taking so long? Just fucking get it over with,” I shouted, flailing about.

  “Marisa?” I screamed desperately as I felt the familiar worming within my mind. Far off above me a bright but brief flash filled the sky and a shimmering slit opened to split the air. Then a small form burst through the opening and circled twice in the sky, hovered briefly then dove towards me.

  *Mari that better fucking be you! I swear-*

  *Yes! It’s me Al, and do not cursed at me,* she interrupted with a huff in my head.

  “Okay… Well how about a hand I seem to be falling out of option right about now,” I said wincing. “Uh, I hate myself.”

  *My idiot. Have you chanced a look behind you at all?* she asked me, sighing exaggeratedly as she did so. I tried to spin about, but each movement threw me off and I had to thrust my hips upwards and then rotate my lower half to be able to see. Now that she mentioned it, something was off and different. My speed had decreased drastically over the past few seconds.

  The howling winds that had drowned out my curses fell, gradually receding. I was now 20-feet from ground-level, or sea-level. As all I could glimpse beneath me was the reflection of the big-ass-moon stretching across a flat surface like glass or stilled water.

  The thing that really bit my cookie was the orange half-bubble cradling me, the rim of the half-bubble danced and flickered with fire.

  I realised why it had been so difficult for me to move about, as I was confound to the semi-bubble.

  *Oh,* I sent intelligently to Marisa and received the mental equivalent of a smirk. A minute later, I set down smoothly on my wind-beaten ass, the surface I took for water was pitch-black cold and slimy. I grimaced and shivered picking through it, the moon provided enough light for me to see it flex and relax like putty in my hand, yet it moved and rippled like the surface of a body of water.

  *Jon! You need to Move! Something is near you—move now!*

  Before I could ask for clarification, a section of the sludgy water shifted higher, then higher and higher. At first, I thought I was looking at a zombie, till a weird lobster-humanoid breached through the surface. It’s elongated shadow cast by the moon; passed over me, engulfing my existence and chilling me to the bone.

  It stood about 7-foot tall and an unearthly moan; one more like hunger than pleasure slipped out of it. Its pincers clacked as it shuffled forward on silent claws.

  *There are other’s approaching from behind you as well, not like this one. People, and they don’t look friendly either.* I nodded at Marisa words. I still hadn’t seen her primordial-form and had been looking forward it.

  *Let’s wait and see what they do. In the meantime, any advice for our fishy friend?* I thought at her.

  Seconds passed before she replied. *They track by detecting and tracking sound through the sludge within their veil. They’re a Shi’en creation, you’re actually stewing in their so called ‘cultivation material’ right now. So please wash your hands before you give me a rub-down later.*

  I sighed audibly and then shut my mouth slowly as the lobster-thing spilled forward quickly. The three sets of legs protruding from its slim shelled body clacked and clicked as it skittered over a few feet.

  I was strangely thankful for the darkness, knowing that seeing this creature in broad daylight, wasn’t something I’d enjoy. It’s upper torso rotated, and it shifted It’s huge clawed pincers back and forth.

  It froze half a second later in front of me and I held my breath as It’s moaning ceased abruptly, listening.

  Now I could make out small tales of whispering speech winding up from behind me. The moon must’ve rose a fraction and it coated the thing in its pale light, giving me a better view much to my own dismay.

  For one, it was entirely plastered in the sludge, either that or it was actually made of the substance. As for the sludge or cultivation fluid as Marisa called it, was in constant motion around the creature body. It’s lower half was actually segmented, each segment housing a set of narrow sharp inky spike-like legs ending in bristles.

  It’s upper torso was armoured in a thin carapace much-like a chest plate. It’ face was mostly featureless and human shaped, if not for wide maw of small razor teeth stretching the expanse of its head. Sludge dripped and oozed from its maw. The whispering grew closer and clearer, and I held my breath.

  A few feet from me the lobster-creature crouched deeply; going low, it’s claws easing open and shut in anticipation.

  “I’m telling you Darrick. I saw a fire out this way,” said a man’s voice, faintly Australian.

  “Why da’ hell would some’em start a fire, let alone start one at the barrier of the sludge. Just askin’ ta go crazy or git eaten,” grumped a rougher southern-hick voice. I couldn’t see anything but hear their voices, and their footfall grew ever louder. A low unceasing moan filled the air like a chilling breeze.

  “You hear tha?” asked the hick and I could just imagine him spitting into a spittoon followed by the sound of a coin dropping. *Marisa, any idea why I’m no seeing anything less than a few feet away from me.* I thought at her and got the impression that she was circling above my location.

  *I want you to try something for me love. But you need to remain calm and still, can you do that for me hon?* She asked me, and I sighed mentally, feeling drained and unfortunately married.

  *Yes,* I send back and a moment later she replied with instructions. *Blink your left twice and then close it on the third blink.* I did as instructed, and a moment later half of my vision swam; and I suddenly felt disorientated.

  My right eye still tracked the small shifting movements of Lobster-thing, whereas my left eye was looking out at the night-sky from an aerial perspective.

  I noticed now what I’d missed in my panicked fall.

  There was a village-town-city? I wasn’t sure. *More of a town,* Marisa informed me. *Bastion, I believe they call it.
A group of escaped slaves from the south fled to the elves; only to be forced away from them and found their own settlement here.*

  *Wait, what’s that?* I inquired as Marisa banked to her right, circling. A mass of climbing towers and structures, some even crawling up ceaselessly into the cloudy sky. They differed in height and I guess that the city, if it was, had a ringed wall for each sector, the further in a sector the taller and more prestigious the buildings and quarters.

  The sight was ghostly to me, and the cold emptiness the spires exhumed, chilled me more than the lobster.

  “Crack a damn flare Darrick,” I heard the Aussie sounding one hiss, I couldn’t hear through Marisa, but her head tilted down and I saw myself maybe 50-60-feet below, spread-eagle in the muck.

  The lobstrosity, was difficult to make out. I watched three men approaching towards my location. They were armed, one a crude-rusted-spear, that kept looking at the fellows in front of him and hissing irritably. At the front of their inverse-triangle the left man kept spitting to his right; I wasn’t sure if he was moisturising his friend or spitting on his shoes. He was armed with a rifle that looked to be a musket of all things with a knife attachment at end of his barrel.

  The right man had a chipped sword in his left and a dirtied pistol in his right that practically screamed early periods.

  I didn’t really know the difference between flintlock and matchlock weapons, but I was certain it had to do with one having a slow-burning fuse and the other basically being a cigarette-lighter. Righty’s weapon was either of those, he kept reaching back to itch his ass with the butt of his pistol.

  They all wore dirty farmer clothing, and each was rough and line-faced, wispy hairs fanned out of their heads unwashed.

  I took a slow even breath, Marisa vision was astonishing. But what caught my attention was that as lefty pulled what only could be a home-made flare, shook it, twisted the dark leather cap and cracked it off with a snap.

  The sudden hissing combustion of pyrotechnics igniting, bloomed a fogging cloud of red and orange smoke which was then pierced by a prick of intense sputtering red light.