Let’s see what it will take to keep that promise, vessel.
Sylk pushed open the door that led to an immense polished marble hallway. It was reminiscent of ancient Greek architecture with vaulted ceilings and large columns spaced along the hallway.
“What are these Akashic Records?” asked Zen as he looked around in wonder.
“This hallway will lead us there,” said Sylk. “The Records are the repository of all knowledge.”
“All knowledge, really?” said Zen. “How is that even possible?”
“Yes, really. All knowledge is stored here, if I can even use the term ‘here’,” said Sylk.
The feeling was coming back into my legs, an extreme version of pins and needles. I grunted in pain as Zen put me down.
“What?” asked Zen.
“Feeling’s coming back,” I answered as I walked around.
“Are we in the mirror? Is this another plane?” I asked.
“Yes and no,” said Sylk. “The Records don’t exist in any fixed point in space or time. This place”— he swept his arm around—”is merely a construct, a placeholder, something to keep our minds from snapping at the vastness of information.
“So this is all an illusion?” I placed a hand on the very real- feeling columns that towered above us.
“No, it exists like my location in the mirror. It is in-between.”
Sylk turned to Samir who was looking at a map. The diagram on the map shifted and wavered.
“Where is it?” asked Sylk.
Samir pointed to a location on the map he held. “There, through that area for the next few hours.”
Sylk grimaced. “Of course it would be there. Anything else would be easy,” he said.
Meja stepped over to Samir and looked at the map.
“What’s wrong? Where is this place?” she said.
Sylk turned to her. “To understand that is to understand the records itself. In this manifestation, we cannot just access any information. Some information, for example knowledge of future events, is beyond us,” he said.
“Is that where this is?” she asked.
“No, the syllabist master text we need has been lost for centuries, which makes it part of the past. The difficulty arose when we arrived here seeking it. By doing so we altered its state and made it part of the present of this place.”
“And that means?”
“As part of the present, the eternal now, so to speak, it falls under the dominion of Raja, the records keeper,” said Sylk.
“What, like a librarian?” asked Zen.
Samir put the map away, folding it neatly and carefully storing it in his pocket.
“Not merely a librarian,” said Samir. “Raja is a formidable deterrent for anyone who would attempt to remove information without being granted permission to do so.”
“So what is this Raja, a beast?” said Zen. We can handle this.”
Samir tightened his lips. “It is clear you do not understand, Guardian.”
“That…is very clear indeed,” said a voice from behind them. The voice was like gravel and sandpaper, and carried through the hallway with ease. Everyone turned to face the direction of the voice.
“This is Raja,” said Sylk.
Dressed in a charcoal grey suit, Raja looked like an older executive on his way to the office. His bronze skin contrasted with his white shirt, which was unbuttoned at the top. It gave him an air of casualness. His black hair, shot through with streaks of grey, was trimmed short. Ice blue eyes gleamed from behind silver rimmed glasses, which he pushed up the bridge of his nose.
I noticed that something was not what it appeared and was about to use my inner sight.
“No,” said Raja. His voice was laced with steel. “I strongly urge you to reconsider that course of action, warrior.”
The group turned to look at me.
“I just wanted to take a closer look,” I said.
“Using your inner sight on me would cause that delicate organ you call a brain much harm, resulting in what you call a psychotic break, splintering your mind. A condition I am certain you do not desire.”
“You can use your inner sight?” asked Zen.
“Yes, can’t you?”
Zen remained silent but shook his head as he looked at me with disbelief.
“What?” I asked.
“The acquisition and use of the inner sight takes approximately fifty to sixty years of a warrior’s life,” said Raja. “Since you are not close to that chronological age, your ability to do so is an anomaly. Hence the surprise from your companions.”
I looked around, confirming Raja’s words. Even Sylk looked somewhat surprised.
“Fine then, no inner sight. Who are you in relation to this place?” I asked.
“I am not a ‘who’ but a ‘what’. I, like this place you stand in, am an embodiment to facilitate your use of the records. I am information manifest.”
“You know everything?” asked Kal.
Raja turned to face Kal. “No, Kalysta, I am not omniscient, even though the amount of knowledge I do possess surpasses all of yours by several orders of magnitude. I am the eternal present, and as such, future events are beyond my sphere of influence.”
Samir cleared his throat and stepped forward. His voice trembled slightly as he spoke. “We seek the tome of language, the master syllabist text.”
“To what purpose, syllabist?”
“I must instruct the warrior in the use of the words of power, in order to restore balance and prevent the undoing of our plane.”
Raja stood still a moment as if considering Samir’s words.
“This is an acceptable request,” said Raja.
Samir exhaled slowly.
“There is, however, one condition,” said Raja.
“Yes?” said Samir as he winced.
“Once balance is restored, the warrior must spend one cycle with me.”
“How long is a cycle?” asked Zen.
“Ten years according to your time,” said Raja.
“Ten years!” shouted Zen. Sylk looked at him and he calmed down.
“This is Dante’s choice,” Sylk said. “We all will pay a price, some more than others.” Sylk looked at his arm.
“Are these terms acceptable to you, warrior?” said Raja.
I didn’t look forward to spending ten years with Raja in this place.
“Do the years have to be spent consecutively?” I asked. Maybe I could stretch this out over time.
“A valid question and the answer is yes. It is to be ten years sequentially given in exchange for the master syllabist text.”
I took some time to consider everything that was at stake. If I didn’t get that text I wouldn’t be able to control Maelstrom. Ascendants would be killed, and I wouldn’t be able to stop Lucius from taking over and destroying everything. Ten years seemed like a small price to pay.
“Yes, I accept this condition,” I said.
“Very well. Once balance is restored and your plane is no longer under threat, you will be brought here,” said Raja with finality.
Raja turned and walked down the hallway, his passage silent. He led the group to a very large door. Around the edge of the door were inscriptions that were foreign to me. I turned to Sylk and pointed.
“What do these symbols mean?”
He shook his head. “These symbols are beyond me.”
“Through this door lies the text you seek. Only the warrior can enter. If he is found worthy, he will return.”
“Found worthy by whom?” said Sylk. I could tell Sylk wasn’t pleased by this turn of events.
Raja stood still for another moment before answering.
“You have other matters to be concerned with,” said Raja as he pointed down the hallway. In the distance stood four figures and they were walking toward us.
“Dante, I think you’d better go get that book,” said Zen. “We will handle this.” I stepped to the door and grabbed the handle. Rather than open, I felt myse
lf being pulled in until everything was black.
THREE
I FLOATED FOR what felt like an eternity until I landed on what seemed to be solid ground. In the distance I could see some light and headed in that direction.
So you would give ten years of your life to this being? It was Maelstrom.
If it means getting this book and learning to use you without sacrificing myself in the process, ten years is a bargain, I thought.
You do know I could teach you, vessel.
Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass.
Perhaps in this place you can find out how to remove me, vessel. Think of it, no need for a book or risking your companions. Who knows what dangers they are facing right now, because of you. You know my words are sound.
No, we are getting this book to confront a greater threat. This isn’t about you and me.
Naïve little vessel, of course it is. You just haven’t realized it yet.
Before me stood another door. It was glowing in the dark, a soft hue of blues and greens. It stood there in the middle of the space I was in, not exactly inviting. I turned the handle, half expecting it to explode, and found myself in an immense library. Books covered each of the walls as far as I could see. Skylights were spaced along the ceiling and allowed a soft light to fall upon the books. I turned and took in the entire space. The rows seemed endless.
“Pretty impressive, isn’t it?” I recognized the voice. It was my own and yet it was subtly different. Maelstrom.
I turned and saw an older version of myself sitting at a table with two books on it. He was dressed in a black cloak with red motifs. I looked closer and realized that the symbols were the inscriptions on the staff I wielded.
“Hello, Dante. You are here for this, I assume,” said Maelstrom. He placed his hand on an ornate book no larger than a paperback. From the writing on it that I could see, it was the master syllabist text.
“You,” I said.
“Yes, me. I’m the older, wiser version of you. The one that thinks this is a fool’s errand. I am the one tempered by time who knows that I should be looking for another book, perhaps this one?”
His hand rested on the other book on the table, roughly the same size and just as ornate.
“This book will rid you of that nasty voice inside your head. You know the one that keeps telling you to kill, destroy and maim others all in an effort to shorten your life. That way you and I can both be free.”
“I can’t,” I said.
“Can’t or won’t? It’s not complicated, Dante. You free yourself from the weapon and there go all your problems. Let someone else handle this world-saving business. You don’t need the stress.”
He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms as he looked at me.
“Don’t you want to be free?” he said. “You don’t deserve any of this. You didn’t ask for it— it was thrust upon you, unfairly I might add.”
“I’m a warrior.”
Maelstrom laughed.
“Don’t tell me you bought into that fairytale. Wake up, Dante!” He slammed his hand on the table, startling me.
“I am awake. People need me. My world needs me,” I said, my voice lacking the conviction I felt in my heart.
“Do they need you? You the coward? You let Devin die for you. You who can’t control his weapon? They need the you that is a menace to everyone and everything around him? You’re a failure before you’ve even begun. You’re pathetic,” he said.
He pushed back from the table and stood. The library disappeared and we stood in an open field.
“It seems like words alone won’t do this. Very well, I will show you how unnecessary you are.”
A black blade materialized in his hand.
“Time to end this, Dante.”
FOUR
THE DOOR CLOSED with a whisper behind Dante. Sylk turned to face the group approaching. As they drew closer, his face grew dark.
“What is it?” asked Mara, concern in her voice as she drew closer to Sylk.
“Those are Gyrevex, and the one leading them is…”
“Rael,” whispered Meja.
Sylk looked at Meja for a brief second.
“He is known as the Harbinger. You know him?” asked Sylk.
Meja nodded, her face grim.
“Blood Sylk, so good to see you again,” Rael said as he bowed. “Meja, you are keeping strange company these days.”
Meja manifested her sword, saying nothing.
“I see. Still beautiful and angry,” said Rael as he turned to Sylk.
As Sylk turned to face Rael, under his cloak his right arm glowed faintly.
“Harbinger, you are not welcome here.” If he is here, it’s only a matter of time before his master is free. If that happens, we have lost it all, thought Sylk. “How many did you kill to arrive here?”
“Who’s keeping track? You of all people know how that is,” said Rael.
“Those days have passed,” said Sylk.
“Come now, it wasn’t that long ago, was it? You forgot how you earned your name, Blood Sylk.”
“How? How did you manage it?” Sylk insisted.
“Enough ascendants die and the barrier grows weaker. I’m here to make sure it’s weak enough for him to get through,” said Rael.
“Consider your actions, Rael. You don’t have to do this. He will destroy us all, including you,” said Sylk in a measured tone.
“What makes you think I have a choice? Now, where is he? Where is the weapon bearer?”
“He is undergoing a trial, which must be completed,” said Sylk.
“Irrelevant. My task is to bring back the weapon bearer, alive. The rest of you” —he motioned with a hand—”are obstacles to be removed. Kill them, but leave the old one alive. Him, I want to speak to,” said Rael as he pointed to Sylk.
Raja stood off to the side observing as the Gyrevex began spinning their bells. Everyone except Raja backed away.
“What the hell are those things?” said Zen.
“Gyrevex, and the bells they are spinning weigh close to fifty pounds,” said Sylk. “They are chi weapons. Don’t let them hit you.”
“You forgot the part where you describe their unstoppable nature, how they don’t feel pain and are almost impossible to kill,” said Rael.
“We can do this without needless bloodshed, Rael,” said Sylk.
Rael held up his hand and the Gyrevex stopped spinning the bells.
“I’m listening,” said Rael.
“You defeat me and you can have the warrior. If I best you we leave here with safe passage,” Sylk said.
Rael remained silent a moment before a smile crept onto his face.
“If you beat me, I will allow you safe passage. When I defeat you I will take the warrior and maybe let my friends play with yours. If they try and save you or interfere in any way, I unleash them,” he said pointing to the Gyrevex. “Do we understand each other?”
“Perfectly,” said Sylk as he threw off his cloak and manifested his blade.
Rael drew his swords as Sylk approached, energy coursing through the blades.
“The last time we did this it didn’t go so well for you,” said Rael.
“That was a long time ago. I have learned a few things since then.”
Sylk sent his chi down into his sword and caused it to turn transparent. Around him small orbs materialized, circling his body.
“Why fight the inevitable? You know my master will triumph in the end. Don’t throw your life away. Join us,” said Rael.
Behind them the group had moved to the periphery of the hallway. Mara stepped over to Raja.
“Are you going to let them fight, in here?”
“Yes, regardless of the outcome, what Dante has begun must run its course. Whether he survives it has no bearing on this conflict,” said Raja.
“And if the Harbinger wins?” said Mara.
“That would be most unfortunate for your lord, I think.”
Mara remained silent.
FIVE
“THIS WILL BE over quickly, vessel.”
We were in an open field and he began circling me. It was ironic that at that moment I almost called on Maelstrom, but I felt empty. Even if I tried I knew what would happen.
He smiled at me then.
In that moment I remembered I wasn’t completely unarmed. I reached into my side for the hard rectangle, Mariko’s fan. I didn’t know how to use it properly, but anything was better than going up against him empty-handed. The black blade in his hand gave off wisps of dark energy. I knew I didn’t want to be cut by it.
Don’t give in to the fear, Dante.
It was Owl.
Easy to say, not so easy to do, Samadhi.
If you give in to the fear, then you will lose yourself.
How can I fight him? I have no weapon except this fan.
You are a warrior of the way. The weapon does not make the warrior, it is the warrior that makes the weapon.
With those words Owl was gone. I no longer sensed his presence. Maelstrom came at me then. I managed to parry the first thrust on instinct alone. Mariko’s fan was a lot stronger than it appeared. Something Owl said nagged at me, but dodging a sword intending on splitting me in two kept me from giving it much thought. I stayed out of reach as he circled me.
“You can’t hope to defeat me with a fan,” he said.
I didn’t answer, not trusting my voice. He was right— I was no match for him. No, that was the fear talking.
“What happened to our truce?” I asked as we circled each other.
“You are weak and a coward. I would rather roam the void than remain within such a vessel,” he said.
He slashed downward at my legs, a feint. Using the fan I blocked the slash and drove a palm heel at his solar plexus before he could execute the real attack, an upward strike meant to disembowel me. My strike unbalanced him, but he recovered instantly. He brushed the front of his cloak with his free hand.
“Why use a sword? Why not a jo?” I asked.
“Good question. Remind me to answer you as you lay dying,” he said as he lunged.
I backpedaled as the sword sliced through my shirt, cutting me on the left side. He pressed his advantage, slamming the side of my head with a back fist. My vision exploded with light. A series of punches followed and I knew he was toying with me. In the midst of the pain and helplessness, Owl’s words came back to me. It’s not the weapon that makes the warrior. It’s the warrior that makes the weapon. I make the weapon. Then it dawned on me. I rolled back away from the flurry of blows and directed my chi inward, calling Maelstrom. In my hands materialized my weapon, white and golden. I understood now. I was facing my darker self, the part of me Maelstrom wanted.
Warriors of the Way-Pentalogy Page 24