Slave Pits of the Tyrannical God (Path of Transcendence Book 2)

by Brian McGoldrick

  Body, mind, and soul, I need to use all three at the same time. That is easier said than done. My awareness and consciousness are no longer restricted to my mind. With the strengthening of my ki and the awakening of my psi, they have expanded into my body and soul, but I have never consciously used all three for a single purpose. Keeping my ki flowing through my body, mind, and soul has become an autonomic action, the same as breathing. My spatial awareness and is passive, like my other senses. I can focus on it, but I do not do that unless I am searching for something hidden or obscure. Even my empathy is something that is always on, and when actively probing, I am focusing on it exclusively. Whenever I used more than one, it was always done in sequence, while simply maintaining the previous Power. Now, I need to actively project all three types of Power at the same time for the same purpose.

  All three of the aspect of the Trinity exist within me, but so far I can only circulate ki through my body, mind, and soul without constantly focusing on it. Since circulating my ki became natural, I have stopped mediating. I derive more benefit from using my Power. I am more naturally a fucking things up that contemplating my navel personality, but meditation may have its purpose too.

  Sitting in a lotus position, I turn my focus inward, observing the three Powers within myself. My ki is constantly flowing through me. Even if it is not the raging torrent that I use to enhance myself in combat, it is always flowing like a calm brook. However, my mana and psi are pooled in my body and mind. If I do not actively channel them, they are nothing more than untapped reservoirs. Only small amounts are circulated, as they are dragged along with my ki.

  Up to now, I have only circulated my mana a handful of times and have never done so with psi. Drawing out thread of mana and psi, I start circulating them throughout my body, mind, and soul, using the same paths as my ki is following. In the body, the flow of Powers follows the circulatory and nervous systems, and in the mind and soul, they flow through pathways that are analogous to the physical ones.

  In a manner I never expected, the threads of the three Powers are being drawn to each and weaving together like a braid. The combined energies of the three Powers is healing the remaining damage from overexerting myself while carrying my DokkAlfar prisoner. As I watch the braid of Power moving through my body, mind, and soul, I have the strangest illusion that I am looking a triple helix.

  I do not know how much time has passed, but I feel completely restored. There is not a single sign of self-inflicted damage remaining. I feel stronger and tougher than ever before.

  I have used mana to activate Items of Power. Even if I have never threaded ki or psi in that way, there is a first time for everything. Manipulating the braided Powers, I create a thread of Power in the same manner as I channeled Power into the doors to Thrall's no longer so secret tunnels. At first it feels clunky, and my manipulation of the Power is clumsy.

  I only saw Thrall activate this frame once. Though, I can barely remember the spell pattern he used, I do my best to duplicate it and tie it to the thread point. This not a thread point meant for soul binding the frame, but rather to connect the spell pattern. The frame is best described as a spell formation with a mutable use or multiple uses. The spell fails to trigger the frame, but I get a better understanding of the frames function.

  Ten times. Twenty times. Fifty times. I weave the spell again and again. Each time I cast it on the formation's thread point, I learn more. When Thrall used the frame to contact Boran, I think I assumed it was a communication device, but it is not. While Thrall used it like a videophone, I think it is closer to an espionage device. I keep casting variations on the spell pattern I am trying to use and using places that I have already seen within Gor'achen Citadel as the focal point. I still have not figured out the trick to focus on a specific being. There might not be a way to do so, but I think my knowledge is just too limited.

  Sitting down again, I meditate on the frame's pattern, while my reservoirs of Power refill. While meditation does not help me much to build my Power, it seems it is useful for evaluating information and understanding abstract concepts. Everything has its purpose.

  The frame has the ability to view images across dimensional boundaries, and I do not think that its ranges is limited to the Labyrinth of Yggr. It all comes down to a question of Power. The greater the distance in terms of dimensions you are trying to see across, the more Power you will need to activate it. More importantly, you have to know what you are trying to observe. Being familiar with one or more patterns in the target zone is the best, but even without being familiar with any patterns having a good mental image of the target zone will still work.

  My constant failing is a lack of knowledge, and that is not a weakness that can be overcome in a matter of days. It will years, decades, or centuries, before I can begin to overcome that obstacle.

  It has been over three years since the last time I was in Mountain View, three years since I last saw the cavern with the statues, but my memory of them is still crystal clear. With all my Power refreshed, I begin to weave another spell pattern. I keep the image of that cavern and the statues clear in my mind, as I create the spell and connect it to the frame's thread point.

  The frame starts sucking in my Power like a black hole. I cannot stop or even slow down the flow. I cannot break my link to the spell pattern and the frame. All of my Power is drawn out of me in a few seconds. Just hanging onto consciousness is struggle, but if I pass out, I think I will really die.

  “AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRR!”

  An agonized scream is ripped out of me, as a torrent of Od pours through me. The volume of Power is too much, and it feels like my body, mind, and soul are being destroyed. Time becomes nebulous, and I do not know how long the pain drags on.

  In the frame, an image appears. There is a canvas on an easel, with the partially completed picture of a girl in a red Chinese style dress. Sitting in front of the easel, with her back to me, is a woman with hair so long that is pooling on the floor behind her. That hair is a black so dark that it has bluish highlights where the sunlight touches it. The woman, no, teenage girl, looks over he shoulder, with a faint hint of surprise on her face, and blackness consumes me.

  Something soft is touching my forehead, as I start into wakefulness. Opening my eyes, I see the girl with the black hair, dressed in a blue-green kimono, kneeling on the floor next to me. Her small, soft hand is resting on my forehead, and a slight smile is on her lips.

  *That was a dangerous thing to do. You're far too weak to be using the Od, especially in such large quantities.* Her soft and slightly husky voice sounds inside my mind.

  I stare at the face that matches the statue in Boran's cavern. In person, her beauty is almost overwhelming. Human beings were not meant to embody such perfection.

  The girl's smile broadens. *I'm not human, at least not anymore. Even though you have been chosen by the Od, I am surprised Boran showed you the statues. He is usually such a secretive old Dvergar.*

  “Who . . . what are you?”

  *Boran already told you, I'm LIFE, but you could more accurately say I'm CREATION.*

  “Aaarrrgh!” The way she forms the words Life and Creation drives knives though my skull. The meaning and intent in those two words is not something I am not equipped to handle. It is similar to the way Boran said them, back when I first met him, only more intense.

  A tiny trickle of energy flows from Life's hand into me, and the pain disappears. That Power reminds me of the Od, or maybe the Od reminds me of that Power, a mere shadow of it, would be a better way to put it.

  Life smiles fondly. *You're more HIS child than mine, but I still love you. This metaverse is harsh, and danger lies everywhere. If you are not destroyed in your climb to Power, there will come a day when you will be able to use the Od as naturally as you draw breath. That is when you must make your choice. Until you are strong enough, you need to be careful. In small amounts, you can survive the touch of the Od, but if I was not the terminus of your seeking, you would
have died from drawing so heavily on the Od.*

  Life strokes my scarred cheek for a moment, a sad frown on her lips. *You're enemy is cruel to do this to a child, but the pain is not as great as you believe. You have no concept of real pain. Do not let this shape and dominate you. When you meet your enemy, destroy him and move past him.*

  Life glances the frame, with the image of the room with painting. *That is a bit too powerful for you to be experimenting with so casually.*

  For a moment, it feels like my mind is going to explode, as the knowledge of the frame's pattern, usage, and purpose fills my mind. To say that its scope is mind blowing would be an understatement. I barely hold back a shiver. I am lucky I did not eradicated myself with the way I was toying around with it.

  Life rises to her feet, her face appearing mischievous. *It's okay to think with your dick. Men and women are meant to love another. Just because she is an Alfar female does not mean she is not a woman. Love and sex bind men and women together and keeps the cycle of Life to Death and back to Life flowing forever. I know this is truth, since I made it that way. Give dear old Boran my love.*

  Life seems to stretch out, like the scenes of spaceships accelerating to light speed in a video, and appears back inside the image. She is looking at me with a sad smile, as the image disappears.

  I rise shakily to my feet. Physically, I am fine, but the impact of Life's presence has left me shaken to my core. Woden, who calls himself a God, is not even a fart in a hurricane compared with her. After, being in the same room with her, the world around me feels pale and ephemeral. She seemed to see and know everything about me, but strangely, knowing that she knew about all my darkest secrets and shames does not make uncomfortable.

  She went at her own pace, never giving me the chance to ask any of my questions. Why would she call me her child? Could it be because of the Od? Is it because she really is Life, and sees everyone as her children? When she said HIS, who did she refer to? Who is my enemy? What choice do I have to make?

  With the knowledge given me by Life, Thrall's frame is considerably more intimidating than it was only minutes ago. It is both a window and a door that can reach almost any place not warded in certain manners, and even when a place is warded, it can even break many of those wards, if you give it enough Power. The key is Power, and I have only a fraction of what is necessary to make proper use of it. I probably have enough Power to contact Boran with it, but that assumes I do not make another idiotic mistake like I just did.

  Despite being completely drained of Power by the spell, I am brimming with Power now. It must have been Life's handiwork, but other than being chosen by the Od, I have no idea why she would save me and restore my Power.

  There is no time like the present to test the knowledge that she passed on to me. Based on what I now know, I should be safe contacting Boran. Even though Mountain View is in a different region of the Labyrinth of Yggr, it should be safely within my Power limits. Trying to contact Thrall is a different matter. Without knowing where he is, I could overextend myself, and die from Power depletion or drawing on the Od.

  The spell pattern I weave this time is different from the previous ones, and as it connects to the thread point in the frame, I feel a heavy drain on my Power. A silver shimmer in the interior of the frame coalesces into an image of Boran.

  For a moment, Boran stares at me, before nodding to himself. “You have figured out how to use Thrall's mirror.”

  “You already knew Thrall wasn't here.”

  “I know many things.”

  “What do you know about Talchok'aveyka'tar, Sinla'aveyka'tar, and Aluras'bektsh'tar.”

  “That depends on what you are asking. What was your impression on meeting Life?”

  I pause for a second. Boran asking that question is surprising for a moment, but he is a Priest of Life and Death.

  “She is more than just a little overwhelming. After asking who she was, I never had a chance to ask anything else. She said to give you her love. Why is Aluras'bektsh'tar staging a coup?”

  Boran smiles. “She is a DokkAlfar. Does she need any other reason?”

  “I've been feeling like someone's been fucking with me. How are you involved in the shit I'm in the middle of?”

  “Thrall allowed it to happen, because I asked him to. You needed more training and real conflict to hone yourself.”

  “Eleven years in the Lands of Despair wasn't enough?”

  “You are now in your real body, and it has formidable potential for a human, potential that exceeds anything I have yet to encounter in a mere human.”

  “What about Elan'fer'sha?”

  Boran shrugs. “She is just another Alfar. I have slaughtered billions of Alfar.”

  “I'm going to get her back. She's my woman, now.”

  “She is almost out of time. Her Umbral Channels were deliberately mislaid.”

  “Because of you?”

  “I do not know who instigated it, but there is no one in Gor'achen Citadel that should understand why and how they are mislaid. Instead of shielding her from Umbral corruption, they have been corrupting her in a specific way, confining the majority of the corruption to her soul.”

  “Not even Thrall?”

  “Thrall's knowledge is impressive for one so young, but there are no remaining sources for leaning about Umbral Channels that he should have access to. The DokkAlfar do it by rote memory. That is what makes the sabotage of your woman's Umbral Channels puzzling. Someone or something with extensive knowledge of Power Channels arranged it.”

  “Can you fix them?”

  “There is no point. The damage is already done. Even if she never touches the Umbra again, she will not last more than two thousand days.”

  “I'm going to take her back.”

  “The only DokkAlfar in Gor'achen you are not capable of killing has been lured out of Gor'achen by Thrall. You will have to struggle and overcome your limits, but if you do, you can succeed.”

  “Why?”

  “I have a task I need completed. You are the best one to carry it out, and I can provide you with rewards that will be beneficial to your future growth.”

  “What is it?”

  “You will learn, if you survive.”

  “What is the relationship between Talchok'aveyka'tar, Sinla'aveyka'tar, and Aluras'bektsh'tar?”

  “Thrall's mirror is both a window and a door.”

  “I know. Life gave me the knowledge about it.”

  “You have the tools you need. If you succeed, we will talk.”

  The image of Boran disappears from the frame.

  I am pissed, but everyone has their own agenda. Boran has no obligation to help me. What I am after and what he is after are not necessarily the same, but at least according to Boran, with Thrall's mirror, I have the tools I need to figure out what the fuck is going on.

  Using the mirror, I scan through the layers of Gor'achen from a bird's eye point of view. The tension that I felt when returning to the Blood Rose Stable seems to have grown. No matter which layer I observe, the residents of Gor'achen are continuously looking around in a furtive manner, as they go about their business.

  The way Thrall's mirror works is based off dimensional rifts. When being used to view a location, the beings there can only see the user of Thrall's mirror, if the user allows it, or if the beings at the target have spells or senses allowing them to detect and observe dimensional rifts. There are a number of ways to block the mirror from viewing a location, but that means that the location has wards or other effects inhibiting dimensional rifts. The number of locations and dimensional pockets in Gor'achen Citadel with those types of wards and effects is surprisingly limited. Even though I have seldom encountered dimensional magic or powers, they were almost always in the hand of DokkAlfar.

  Vardne'tar Castle, Lord's Castle, and the Cathedral of the Jotun Lords are all filled with sections that are completely warded against dimensional magic. I could probably break some of those wards, but that would immediat
ely alert the casters. In what I can observe of Vardne'tar Castle there is no sign of Aluras'bektsh'tar. It might be easier to make plans, if I locate the Nameless' cultists, but the problem is finding them. I am not certain, but I think that Woden has subverted the Stoics, and turned them into The Nameless' cultist. Unfortunately, I have no idea where that teleport portal took me, and no way to identify other cultists, unless I catch them entering one of the portals. There were no defining features about that room that I could use to lock onto it either.

  The best time to fins the cultists will probably be at night, if you can really say there is any difference between day and night in this dimension. For now, I will sleep and eat, then begin searching again during the nominal night.

  * * * * *

  When I enter the mess hall, there are a half-dozen gladiators sitting in a group, quietly talking. Seeing me, they fall silent, and three of them leave through three different doors. Since the hour is already past the evening meal, there is no food out, so I continue through the mess hall toward the kitchen.

  The kitchen is off the hall that leads to the baths, and the DokkAlfar guard at the door does not try to stop me. Even though Elan'fer'sha provided whores, booze, and a feast for the gladiators after winning matches, the regular food was always low quality crap. The actual ordering of supplies would have been something she would never waste time on, so who was buying the crap food? Keratin?

  Despite the food being crap, the storeroom and cooler are high quality. They both have sigils crafted into them to prevent the decay of the food stored within. Like some of the human polities in the Battleground of the Damned, the DokkAlfar use a certain amount of magic technology. I suppose it is really Power technology or mana technology, but the word magic feels more appropriate for most things mana related.

  The only place in the Battleground of the Damned that really goes overboard with the magic technology is the Kingdom of Toven, located in a backwater area of the Southern Reaches. Down there they are absolutely crawling with Artificers and Magic Engineers.