“Hello, Eric. How goes the ‘blessed with monstrosity’ research?”
“Well, thank you. How’s ruling?”
“Good. I’m working on a necessary evil right now.”
“Taxes?”
“Suitors. Since my coronation, I've played host to a series of men who want my hand in marriage and this next one promises to be the most insufferable of them all: Lunas of Latrot.”
“Lunas Latrot....He's the son of the Ordercrafter King, isn't he?”
“Yes and he is his father’s son. To honor his arrival, I commissioned an anti-ordercraft circlet from Dnnac Ledo.”
“I've heard that the most dangerous ordercrafter is the one that doesn't need ordercraft.”
“Those I can handle without trouble, thank you. Now…” She walked into his personal space and asked, “What are you doing here?”
“Shouting into the void to relieve stress?” Kasile stared. “Admiring the statues?” Kasile scowled. “Contemplating my place in the universe with the absolute peace and tranquility of...” Kasile drummed her fingers and tapped her foot. “Oh, all right! I've been captured and I'm hiding out in here.”
A trickster’s pleasure appeared on Kasile's regal face.
“Well, well, it would appear that the fire is in the other campsite now. A little bird told me as much, but it sounded so outlandish as to be a prank. Would you like distracting small talk? Lessons in basic magecraft? How about a promise of rescue that I have no idea how to fulfill?”
“Ha, ha, ha, very funny, Your Majesty.”
“Seriously, there are techniques I can teach you that may help.”
“Really?”
Suddenly, the void filled with white fire; holy flames from the demi-goddess standing in front of him. It was reflected in her eyes and burned on the back of her right hand. The Empty Throne of Ataidar was the proof of her heritage and right to rule.
“This fire requires a number of passive abilities to function properly. The first step is soul forging. I needed to make my mortal soul better able to handle divine power. You know how fires are used for smelting and creating new things, right?”
Eric nodded.
“Soul forging is like that. You need to build a fire in your soul, remove the impurities, and reshape it into something stronger.”
“I can’t use magic. How would that help me?”
“The Trickster told me you understand Mana Conversion as theory but haven’t been able to use it in practice. If you forge your mortal soul into a Razor Spirit, then you should be able to use it. You could disintegrate the cuffs by turning them into mana.”
Grey Dengel appeared in the void beside him.
“She speaks the truth. The reason for your trickster mood was an inability on the part of your mind and soul to safely comprehend my wisdom and bear my power.”
“You did it regardless.”
“I figured a soul that carried my own would be of sufficient strength, or barring that, I would be able to lift them to such a level in the process. I was mistaken.”
“Eric, are you talking to Dengel again?”
“Sort of. He’s more like an imaginary friend now.”
“Anyway, other benefits include an improved barrier, greater strength for spells, resistance to techniques like Evil Eye, that sort of thing. It’s called ‘Razor Spirit’ because you’ll lose these powers if you don’t meditate regularly, like how a blade loses its edge.”
“Sounds like a pain. Is there any way to avoid it?”
“You could become a ‘Gilded Spirit,’ but for that, you’d need a catalyst for apotheosis. Something like my divine fire.”
“Does that mean you’re divine?”
Kasile blushed and looked away. “Well…”
“Kas.”
“No. I haven’t. I haven’t, okay?” She groaned and threw out her arms. “The Fire Sage won’t tell me how to do it, speaks in koan, and is, in general, an ass.”
“So when you call yourself a ‘demi-goddess’ or ‘divine queen,’ it’s a lie.”
“It’s not a lie! It’s…just…not entirely true. I am a demi-goddess and I am divine. That’s why I wear the crown. That’s why my mother wore it and my grandfather and so on. That’s why no one overthrows my family. I need to be divine for the sake of stability in Ataidar. If I’m not, then there’s no reason another family couldn’t be royalty. One look at Acemo is all you need to see how dangerous that can be. Why, it could convince someone to support Liclis’ invasion. If they tried that with Ataidar, I’d throw a Holy Flame Arrow at their fleet. I am divine.”
“Okay, okay, you’re divine. How about that reforging thing?”
“To reforge my soul, I meditate, contemplate fire philosophy, and pray to Fiol. I imagine that if you replace fire and Fiol with mercenary and Mother Dragon, then you’ll have the same result.”
Eric shrugged. He sat down, crossed his legs, and cleared his mind.
And so he thought, breathed, and contemplated. He cleared his mind of all other thoughts and focused solely on the wisdom of his guild’s founder and the way of life of the mercenary. As he focused, his mental form glowed and arose. The light of the area dimmed in proportion to the glow and the glow became like a fire.
Grey Dengel appeared next to him and, unknown to Kasile, stuck his hand into the flames. Every time Eric exhaled, the flames reached further up Grey Dengel’s image and incinerated that part of him. Every time Eric inhaled, those astral ashes entered him and settled within him.
“So that’s how the Zero Finite Principle works.” He opened his eyes. “In retrospect, it should have been obvi….Kas?”
He was alone in the void. Not even Grey Dengel kept him company. He looked around and found a statue of Grey Dengel between the one of Basilard and the Dragon’s Lair. After some time, he sent another call to Kasile and she reappeared.
“Awake, are you?”
“How long was I meditating?”
“It’s been a full day. How do you feel?”
“Pretty good…Not hungry. Maybe I am subsisting on the dew of the universe…”
“We can talk about it later. I need to attend a meeting about the renewal for bread and milk subsidies. If you’re not free by the time it’s over, I’m sending the black ops.”
“You’re joking, right?”
Kasile smiled winningly.
“One jail break, coming up.”
Fully conscious again, Eric was relieved to find that Mr.15 hadn’t decided to cut him up yet. Instead of questioning his good fortune, he focused on the task at hand. According to the Mana Conversion Principle, it should be possible to turn solid objects into mana because at a fundamental level, they were already mana. He looked at the cuff on his right wrist and focused. He thought about the MC Principle and imagined it was gone. Then it was gone.
Only a band of transparent mana circled his wrist. His hand was free. He repeated the process on the other three cuffs and it was marginally easier each time, but when he tried the sealing collar, he failed. He pulled out the gag and was about to ask Grey Dengel when the answer came to him.
Its function is to control mana. Thus, it controls itself with a power greater than my own. In other words, this principle doesn’t work against mana controlled by another spirit.
“Abyss. That means I can’t disintegrate monsters. It should still work against the door.”
He put his hands against the door and willed it into mana, but it stayed solid. He breathed, focused, and tried to go back into the meditative state from earlier. Then the door became mana and he fell through it without realizing.
“Ahh! You startled me.”
Standing outside the door was a teenage human girl. She had blonde hair made dirty by dirt and grime that appeared to be fused to the individual strands. It came down to her shoulders, so she wore it in a ponytail. She wore a dull red dress a size or so too large. Altogether, it was an uncanny resemblance to Tiza.
“Let me guess; you’re Vaya Kloac.”
“Yes, I am.” The girl curtsied. “You must be Eric Watley.”
“Yeah, what are you doing here?”
“I came to save you.” She jingled a keychain to prove her point. “I was trying each one of these when the lock disappeared and you fell through.”
“Tasio sent you, didn’t he?”
Vaya blinked. “Tasio? I have no acquaintances by that name. A white-haired boy with pink eyes told me a friend of his was locked up in here. He begged me to save this friend, then he died of a grievous injury.” She dabbed the corners of her eyes. “A lady honors last requests.”
Aio, how many times have you ‘died’?
“Alright then, let’s work together. If you could point me in the direction of the repository, I’d be grateful.”
“The repository? Yes, I can lead you there. A lady helps those in need. I found it the other day.”
This girl’s knowledge of the tunnel system was impressive. Even in places where the Fog was thick enough to obscure his vision, she never seemed lost. She didn't fear the Fog either. While Eric controlled his breathing to keep his intake to a minimum, she breathed it in as if it were mundane air. Her black-red hairstreaks shimmered in sync with the rise and fall of her chest.
Something dropped on top of her and she nimbly dodged it. It lunged, but Eric kicked it into a wall, then followed up by caving its skull in with a heel stomp. It was only after the fact that he realized it was vaguely human.
The pair encountered a dozen more of these misshaped mutants on their way to the repository. Some had a wing in an odd place, others were scaled in patches, hairless in places they shouldn't be or other deformities. Based on the progression of their transformation, the addicts were friendly to the point of hugging them, ignored them, or attacked them in a monstrous rage. Vaya preferred evasion to offense, so it was up to Eric to defend them both.
Lacking both his staff and magic, he relied on martial arts. It wasn't nearly as skillful or polished as his magecraft, but it was enough to bring down malformed and scatterbrained beasts.
Emily thought I was lying when I told her about my Threan training hall.
When they arrived at the repository, three people guarded the entrance: a girl with an ax and two boys carrying staves. All three of them were older than Eric, but still too young to be called “full-grown adults.” If Eric were his true age, he'd be older than they were. Their weapons were ready and they looked everywhere. Beyond them was the door to the repository.
“I have a plan.”
Eric held out his hands and called out to the shadows in the corridor. They reached from their resting places to pool in his palms. He shaped them into a sphere. Over and over, he chanted, “Hide in night; no sight. Hide in night; no sight. Hide in night; no sight.” With each chant, the sphere’s blackness deepened until it was a darkness beyond blackest pitch. Then he threw it into the guards’ midst and it exploded into a shroud too thick for their light stones to pierce.
While they stumbled blindly, Eric waltzed in with perfect sight. He poked the warrior in the eyes, plucked her ax out of her hands, and then slayed her with it. Her mage friends followed swiftly behind her. While he waited for the spell to wear off, he looted their pockets. The only thing he didn’t take was their staves.
“Mr. Watley? Are you there?
It’s not wearing off? It must be the mana.
Eric walked out of the dark bolt’s area of effect and told her the three guards were harmlessly dead. It might have been the poor light, but he thought he saw more tears come to her eyes. Definitely not Tiza. He raised both hands and absorbed the darkness into himself. Then he examined the door.
It was a large stone slab engraved with a large rune. By its central array, Eric interpreted a protection rune and the auxiliary circles contained routines for spiritual routing. He's using the rune as a proxy for his spirit to lock the door. This guy drove Kasile into hysterics with just a glance and, hours ago, did the same to him. There was no way he could force the door open. Then there was the possibility that attempting to do so would alert him.
“Vaya, do you know how to get in here?”
She reached into her dress pocket. “It would be malevolent to guide you here if I could not.”
The thing in her pocket was a jar of red-black liquid. She unscrewed the top and Eric got a whiff of iron. Then she stuck her right hand into it and muttered words about blood and lineage and chaotic empowerment. The liquid glowed and she withdrew a blood-red hand.
“What is that?”
“Blood,” she said simply. “I bottled it when I was tasked with disposing of the last experiment.”
She placed her right hand against the stone slab and repeated the words she said before. The circles glowed and turned, and the stone moved away.
“What kind of experiment does that?”
“I do not know his motive, but I know the main ingredient is his own blood, and the blood of a Bladi is the same as their spirit.”
The inside was dark and somewhat musty. Fog drifted in and lichen lit up the room. Piles of loot were organized and stacked high. There was money to the excess, and top shelf equipment. There were rare items that Eric wouldn’t be able to afford with a year’s wages, assuming he could find them. He ignored them and made a beeline to his staff. The crystal at the top tinted golden-brown instead of the clear transparency of before and the grey light at its center was now more intense. Eric grabbed it and it sent happy pulses through his hand that warmed every part of his body and soul.
“Hahahaaha! We're back in business!”
The grey light would enable him to bypass the suppression collar because it was a proxy for his spirit. He could cast basic magecraft if he brought enough mana into the crystal, but doing so here could be suicide. Fog filled the air and only in trace amounts would it be safe for him to cast. Even a mana bolt could de-stabilize it and cause an explosion. The staff itself was more valuable right now; it granted him longer range than his fist and the crystal topping it was as good as a spearhead.
Where’s everything else…?
He pocked Culmus' dagger, zipped up the Mage's Freedom vest (for all the good it would do him), and fit his staff into its sling on his back. Feeling combat ready again, he finally noticed the loot to every side. He smiled like a mercenary. After pocketing everything he could reasonably carry, he left with his companion.
“Dragon's Lair Rule Number 7: Not all that glitters is gold, so grab the stuff that does whenever you can!”
Fighting the occasional monster and intoxicated sapient was much easier now. Where before he could get into a scuffle even if he hid himself, now he dominated every battle.
His stomach growled. It was then that he remembered how long it had been since his last meal. Maybe universe dew isn’t enough. This is confusing… I could eat the monsters... He would have if he knew their species. Monster meat could be poisonous and these were saturated in Fog. Breathing it might – He shook his head. The Fog would only dull his hunger. The last thing he wanted was to end up like the degenerates littering the halls. Then he turned a corner and encountered something worse: a girl with an ax and two boys carrying staves.
Eric pressed Vaya to his chest and shouted, “Trickster Teleport!”
The nearby shadows enveloped him and he disappeared from sight. The trio shined their lights in his direction and the stones lit up the entire pathway, but they didn't see him. They rushed forward, thinking him invisible, and, in doing so, left themselves open. Their goal was to prevent him from slipping past or slipping away, so they spread out and checked everywhere at once. This allowed Eric and Vaya to trip them, steal their weapons, and kill them.
“That was too easy. Whatever happens, we keep out of sight. Alright?”
Vaya nodded. Eric wrapped shadows around both of them and they moved on.
In the next hallway, they spotted a third trio. This one was also two boy mages and one girl fighter and they looked just like the last two Eric killed. A triple set of t
riplets that work together in the same place with the same skillset or a mage cloning the same three people? It would explain the lack of training; I’m fighting infants.
Every third passage was guarded by one of them and Eric dealt with them the same way every time: disorient and slay. The trios were expecting a mundane mage. They scanned areas quickly in order to move on to the next. Their light element stones passed over each inch of every corridor they passed because they believed his invisibility was useless in the face of their light magic.
They were wrong. Before, he had to invoke the Dark Veil, but now, he only had to think and the shadows would hide him. He was an enlightened Razor Spirit and so his invisibility was a step above that of textbook spells. It was part of him, as effortless as his own barrier.
I shall call it the “Shadow Cloak.” This collar was supposed to weaken me, but instead it's aiding my escape. If my magic weren't sealed, they'd be out in force instead of these passive patrols.
That is the essence of darkness. In classical thinking, it was called “yin,” a passive element. It works indirectly and subtly to great effect, but only if the user possesses sufficient chaotic thinking. Since you are a trickster, it works well with you. Darkness has always been near and dear to a trickster’s heart, but then again, so has light.
Are you saying that Kallen is –?
Am “I” saying it? I am little more than a passenger on your train of thought. If anyone is saying it, then it is you.
He bumped into Vaya and knocked her over. Immediately, he apologized and helped her up. He apologized again when he saw the scrapes on her knees and hands. Then he trailed off when he saw them heal. The skin patched itself up like Annala's did when she got a paper cut.
“That's not important,” she said to pre-empt his question. “This door is different from the others. I think it may be an exit.”
The door before them certainly had more runes. There were runes for protection, runes for sealing, runes to cause alarms, and more he didn't recognize.
Do you recognize them?
I was never privy to the Bladi clan's secrets and, if I was, you haven't read far enough for me to know if I was or you haven’t meditated enough to access the knowledge.
Looming Shadow: Journey to Chaos book 2 Page 39