Lorace sighed and hugged Iris close. “I would have lost this; this love would have been eternally beyond my grasp. Because I chose tranquility, it is what I am inside, throughout every part of my being. I feel calm and peace always, except when I force myself into urgency or embrace passion.”
He ran his hand through Iris’s hair, cherishing its silky texture for a moment before he continued. “If Lord Aizel’s strength of foulness was life changing to me, the Devourer’s may be thousands of times more so when I consume it.”
Iris tensed under his touch. “Lorace, no! You do not know how that will change you.”
“I must face him,” Lorace asserted calmly. “I must destroy every shred of Tezzirax’s spirit. Sir Rindal’s sword could undoubtedly cut it, but I know that is not enough to destroy it or the Lady would have had him destroy it when he freed it from my body.”
Oen stepped forward to stand with Iris. “There must be some other way.”
Lorace shook his head. “There are only two beings on Vorallon who can consume spirits; I am one and the Devourer is the other. My third gift, somehow, is a version of Tezzirax’s spirit gift, a splinter of it. I know my spirit was sealed away by the Lady, within the very godstone that makes up my chain now, while the demon’s spirit was occupying my body. Where do you think that godstone sphere was during those years?”
Iris looked at him and her eyes slowly widened. “Oh, Lorace. It was inside of you was it not? Inside your soul, while Tezzirax’s spirit surrounded it the whole time.”
“Yes, I am certain of it.” The remainder of his half-formed idea fell into place. “Think about it; what Sakke Vrang does, and how my spirit interacts with it. It is all a reworking of Tezzirax’s gift of absorption—the gift he uses now as the Devourer to feast off everything he touches, turning it into growing flesh and strength. The gods have told us that all gifts are unique. There may be some similarities between them such as the empathic demon Iris saved me from and her own gift, but this is more than a similarity. Tezzirax’s gift permeated the godstone within me over years of contact, to use Sir Rindal’s words; it ‘melded’ with the godstone and with the very flesh of my body, though in a more benign form.”
Oen nodded to himself and mused, “I understand, but that does not change who you are to us, and it does not change the risk you take even in defeating the Devourer.”
“The risk I accept,” he replied, attempting to share his certainty with them as he had shared his tranquility to Halversome’s citizens.
Iris gripped his shoulder and turned him back about to face her. “What is to stop him from absorbing YOU while you absorb him?”
“Willpower,” Lorace answered, the corners of his lips lifting in a quick smile.
He turned and took a few strides across the deck to stand before Sir Rindal. “There is something else I want to show all of you, call it an affirmation of my will. I want you all to understand how sure I am of what I say, how sure I am of success.”
Lorace took the chain from his satchel and removed the bag and his shirt, dropping them to the deck. Sir Rindal’s eyes widened at the sight of his scars, but his face softened into an expression of sadness. He mourns the cost of his actions still. Lorace thought, before squaring his shoulders to the task he set before himself. He held the chain above his head between both hands. “Cut my body with your sword, Sir Rindal. Hold nothing back.”
“Lorace!” Iris cried, holding his gaze for a moment before he turned back to Sir Rindal.
The entire ship had gone quiet, only the rushing wind, which he still maintained, and the quiet slapping of water against the hull could be heard. The remainder of his focus was exclusively on his connection with Sakke Vrang.
Sir Rindal directed Tornin over to take the tiller and stepped back from Lorace.
The paladin drew his godstone sword and held it up in salute to the Lady. His gaze turned hard as steel when he looked into Lorace’s eyes. Before Lorace could blink, Sir Rindal swung a tremendous crossing cut into his side. It was a chop certain to cleave him in two, but he could not allow that. In the moment of impact, he held only to the strength of the strongest godstone link. The blow lifted him off his feet. His body folded around the blade as the paladin’s strength of arm threw him against the solid rail of the ship with a sharp crack. He gasped for air and struggled to get his legs back under himself before he could fall all the way to the deck.
Lorace lowered the chain and slowly regained his breath. The wind blowing each of the ships never altered.
“That is going to leave a mark.” He lifted his arm to allow Iris to examine the long red welt midway between his hip and lower rib. “Do not jump all at once to try that.”
Sir Rindal pointed to the broken timber of the galley’s rail and laughed. “Lorace, I think we broke the ship.”
The paladin cut the broken timber free with a flick of the tip of Brakke Zahn, flipping it into the air to cut it in half twice before the pieces could fall to the deck. The blade divided the wood without the slightest tug of resistance.
Iris shook her head in disbelief. “You knew. Of course you knew.”
“Sir Rindal knew as well. He himself told me that his blade, though gifted with the ability to cut through anything, could not cut my chain.”
“But that was your flesh that resisted his sword,” she pinched the skin of his hip until he winced.
Lorace bent down to his satchel and put the chain away to hold up his palms with their white circle marks on them. “Adwa-Ki told me I was the strongest link of Sakke Vrang.”
“So you cannot be cut? You are as impervious to harm as godstone?” Iris demanded with a grieved air. “You put me through that to show me you are somehow made of godstone now?” She shook her head. “Moyan told me you were shot by a crossbow. I saw the blood on your robe.”
“Yes I was shot. And yes, I can still be cut.” He reached out and lightly touched the unsheathed sword with his forearm. Immediately blood dripped to the deck, his own blood from a very real cut on his arm. His expanded vitality healed the wound before their eyes.
“That is what willpower is capable of,” Lorace said, pulling his shirt back on and replaced the satchel’s strap across his shoulder. “It is will that drives the cutting power of Brakke Zahn, I merely braced against it with my will over Sakke Vrang. I suppose you could say that I was made of godstone in that instant, as I embraced the will of the strongest link in the chain. That is the willpower that is going to ward me from the Devourer, and this gratuitous display was to show you all exactly how certain I am of success.”
“How then could the crossbow hurt you?” Iris insisted.
“When I was shot by the Zuxran crossbow I was not aware of this aspect of my will over the chain,” Lorace admitted. “I did not have all the pieces to this puzzle yet. And I am still vulnerable when I am not focused correctly; this is something I must practice during our journey.”
Iris clenched her tiny fists. “We believe in you Lorace, but even with the blessing you and your chain have performed upon us, we are apprehensive still. It is simply in our nature to question the impossible, even when you stand before us, a god in the making. And as I discovered watching you walk into the heart of a horde of demons, your blessing does not make one immune to new fears, but it does make them a lot harder to lose one’s self to.”
“Exactly so,” Oen agreed.
“I never had a doubt,” Tornin said from the tiller as he picked something from his teeth. “I have no idea what you all are getting so excited about.”
Iris groaned noisily at him and bared her teeth. “I made that sword you wear, Sir Knight, would you like me to unmake it?”
Tornin sprang to attention. “No, my Lady.”
Iris nodded in satisfaction. “As I said, it is still possible to become afraid.”
Lorace took his wife in his arms and hugged her close as she chimed with laughter.
They quieted and turned together to watch as the last glimpse of Halversome’s two g
reat towers sank below the horizon.
“Do you know about the sailor’s riddle?” Lorace asked his bride. “I remember my father telling me of it.”
“Why the land sinks when they depart and then rises from the sea again when they return? Yes, I have read journals of priests which put forth many theories, but seeing it happen myself, no theory truly explains it.”
“I can look with my sight and tell you now that Halversome has not sunk below the waves. Do you want to see?”
She leaned hard against him. “Yes, please show me.”
Without his chain in hand, Lorace re-forged the intimate link he had shared with Iris during the night and opened his sight above Halversome to her.
Iris sighed. “You can do this any time, Lorace. I would look at the world through your eyes always.”
“Watch,” he said as he pulled his view smoothly back to where they stood on the ship. Together they watched Halversome sink again. Now with the city below the horizon, Lorace shifted his vision slowly until the ocean was a dim ghost revealing Halversome still perched upon its cliffs but now apparently well below the sea. “Is it still a riddle?” he asked.
“It is not an impossible riddle, Lorace,” Iris concentrated on the view through Lorace’s sight. “But it is a challenging one.”
Lorace allowed her time to think while casting his view high above their small armada until all their ships were in view. He moved in on the lead ship to where Hethal and Moyan stood deep in conversation. Hethal was insisting they cross to Ousenar before heading further south. The priest of Lorn paused to look up into the sky and call out, “Tell him Lorace!”
Lorace laughed. “Hethal is asking us to cross the Vestral Sea to Ousenar before heading further south—asking me.”
“I could hear him through your awareness,” Iris said with a nod. “Hethal would not guide us to folly.”
“Sir Rindal?” Lorace called to the paladin. “Which flag commands the ships to head westward?”
“The yellow and blue, split horizontal.”
Lorace looked to the mast of Moyan’s ship where he found and unfurled the correct flag with deft twists of the air.
“All points west!” Sir Rindal called out to the idle crew.
Lorace gradually shifted the wind fully westward.
chapter 3
INFINITE
Twenty-Ninth day of the Moon of the Thief
-upon the Vestral Sea
Iris took hold of his hand blindly for her eyes were closed to see only through his sight. “Lorace, I think I have the solution.”
“I am sure you do,” he said, pulling her closer to him.
“Move your view straight up.” She leaned her hip into him, and his sight flashed for an instant into an appreciative view of the spots hidden beneath her dress.
“No.” Her giggle of crystal chimes sounded softly. “That is our secret, husband. Eyes back to the sky. Not too fast, keep going and watch the horizon.”
The horizon began curving like a bending bow as his view soared higher and higher.
Iris’s lips curled into a smile. “It should have been obvious to us when you were showing the spirit of Vorallon; it is a round sphere of light. The world is a sphere as well, and we ride upon its surface. Halversome appears to sink with distance because the curve of the world rises higher and higher between us as we get further apart.”
He gave her a squeeze and continued moving the view further upward. “I knew you would discover the truth. I had already seen that Vorallon was round, but you have found the truth of the riddle that eluded me. If I go far enough up, will we be able to see Jaarda or Nefryt?”
“I do not think so,” Iris said. “Nor will you see the gods as they lay sleeping beyond the stars. Perhaps if you shifted your vision the right way, as you do when viewing spirits or seeing through the sea itself they will appear, but I think the other realms may overlap Vorallon as our spirits overlap our bodies.”
She clenched his arm with both hands as their point of awareness continued to ascend. “What are you doing now, Lorace?”
Stars surrounded them as Lorace’s sight superimposed both of their images high in the void above their world. The deck of the ship existed as only a vague outline that faded away to nothingness.
“I am using my gifts, strengthening them,” he replied as the world of Vorallon shrank away. The disc of it was now entirely within their view. “Would you like to see Voradin or even the stars?”
“The stars!” Iris gasped. “Oh, Lorace, please show me the stars.”
Lorace turned them around, away from the blue disk of Vorallon, looking to each of the Old God’s constellations in turn. “Do you have a personal favorite you wish to see?”
“The Spinneret!” Her arm pointed urgently toward a section of stars within the brighter band that circled seasonally around their world. “The constellation of the Lady.”
Lorace oriented his view swiftly on the constellation of the Spider. The Spinneret was a tight trio of bright stars that made up the tip of the Spider’s abdomen. Once he had them squarely in view, he pushed toward them, but the stars remained motionless.
“Hmm, either something is wrong, or I am at the limit of my gift.”
“Or they are very, very far away,” Iris said with a shake of her head. “Keep going.”
Lorace pushed harder on his sight, driving it many times the span of Vorallon with every beat of his pulse. He pushed further and faster still, until a tangible movement among the stars was visible.
“You are doing it!” Iris bounced on her toes.
Their passage through the stars continued to accelerate as Lorace took a deep breath and relaxed his pulse. He could not fathom the speed his awareness was moving, but the scale of distance was monumental. Vorallon was no longer visible behind them.
“Can you not just put your point of view where you want?” Iris asked with a dramatically heavy sigh. “Must we travel the entire distance in this manner?”
He grinned at her, but strained forward harder with his will. “I do not understand why I cannot. I can move my view to anything I have seen previously or when something has drawn me to it as Vorallon drew me to the Devourer.”
“Ah, but you cannot set your view on something you have no understanding of,” Iris put forth.
“No, I think you are right. I need to be familiar with it in some way, or I must push my sight there.”
Iris mused, “This is the reason you cannot just jump your view right up to a star, though you know it is there, you do not understand what it is.”
“But I can see it right there before me, I should be able to get right up to it like I can a man glimpsed in the distance,” Lorace reasoned.
“You know what a man is, Lorace; you know how big a man is, how close you must be to see his face clearly. All these are secrets that the stars keep from us. You want to practice your sight? Well push it! Harder than you ever have before if you want to show the stars to me.”
“Very well.” Lorace picked up the gauntlet Iris cast at his feet and pushed even harder. He focused on the brightest of the three stars of the distant Spinneret, which was beginning to shine blue-white. All was darkness but for the slowly moving stars, they were speeding faster, and their target became brighter and brighter. Iris gasped as one of the other stars began blurring into an oval shape. Lorace pushed harder toward the center star.
Individual points of brightness began to appear within the blurry oval star.
“Lorace, what have the gods wrought?” Iris said with a gasp. “Those are stars, and more stars keep appearing as we travel. The heavens are endless.”
“Infinite was the word Harna-Ki used,” Lorace said as he focused on the star ahead.
“Infinite indeed,” she murmured.
The star’s intense blue-white brightness continued to grow. Now it appeared as a disk against the spangled darkness. All other stars within their view dimmed before its luminance. The blue-white furnace overcame even the brightness o
f what had now become a whirlpool of stars.
The disk of the star leaped forward, swelling so big it appeared to be crushing down on them.
“Stop!” Iris squeezed his arm uncomfortably tight until he drew to a halt. The star now filled half their view. Only the nature of Lorace’s sight saved them from blindness at its brilliance. They were seeing it with their minds, not their eyes.
“What is that?” Iris asked, pointing toward a dark spot within the brightness of the star.
Lorace moved them tentatively toward the spot of darkness that grew quickly to a disk of its own. Their standing figures moved around the dark disk until a crescent of brightness showed on the side facing the blue-white star. They continued fully around to the bright side, displaying a world covered in a ferocious storm of red and pink clouds.
Iris’s voice was a hushed whisper. “Lorace, that is another world, and the star is a sun like our own, only bluer and brighter by far. What does this mean? Is this where the Lady sleeps? It is one of her stars.”
“I do not think so,” Lorace drew them into the swirling pink clouds, covering them in flashes of lightning and a thunderous storm that howled in their ears. “The Lady spoke with me before I awoke on the shore south of Halversome. She said she went to sleep beyond the stars. I can hardly imagine how far we are from Vorallon now, and this ‘beyond’ she spoke of must be infinitely further away.” Lorace smiled. “I like that word.”
“You have not thought about what being a god will be like, have you?” Iris’s arms encircled him in a close embrace against the clashing storm.
“No, and my brothers have explained nothing to me,” Lorace said as he withdrew them back to the void above the world. “Seeing all this, I begin to understand why that is. It is simply beyond our grasp. There are no words to describe what we have seen or measurements that begin to tell how far we have come. What if each of these stars bears a world? Do we fight for Vorallon alone or do we fight for all of this? Is Jaarda one of these worlds? Is the realm of undeath yet another? Or is it an entire other universe of stars and worlds that threatens all of this?”
Gifts of Vorallon: 03 - Lord of Vengeance Page 3