Fallen Ambitions

by Vann, Eric J.

  Aziel was just about to comment, when he stopped. Integration: that was what he had been put through. Was it really safe to talk about this? Aziel glanced up, as if looking to the skies and the Seed he knew to be there would give him the answer. He swallowed again, his mouth dry as he pondered what he was about to do—to risk.

  But he could not live in fear his whole life. He needed to have the ability to speak of his experiences and get answers.

  He looked back at the old Ogre’i, who was watching him closely. Aziel pressed his lips together… and then he let out the secret he did not know whether he was bound to keep or not. He told Neruul everything that had happened in the white room. The burning. The Overseers’ Assembly. How the Archivist had saved him and given him this faction to manage.

  Neruul listened without interruptions, letting Aziel unload all that he had been keeping to himself. It was only when Aziel stopped telling his tale that the old Ogre’i finally spoke.

  “Young Master, I am sorry you had to experience such a thing.” He wore a gentle smile which both calmed and annoyed Aziel. Why had he opened up to Neruul, of all people? But this doubt couldn’t eclipse his relief that no all-destroying red beam had been unleashed to smite him from above.

  “When you were born, your mark was faded, weak,” Neruul continued. “The presence of the mark was due to your mother, of course, but it was inert. No one could Inspect you, and you could not make use of the log. It is unsurprising that the Overseers tried to get rid of you when they noticed this. It is what they do. They rid themselves of those not under their control or who may form an immediate risk to the Seed. It is the same reason why I stayed in hiding for so long. This disagreement you talk about between the Archivist and the Overseers, however… and the Archivist not only saving you, but also bestowing gifts… it is most unusual.”

  The room fell silent as Neruul grew lost in thought. Aziel settled himself on another pile of rubble opposite the old Ogre’i and waited.

  Neruul breathed in deeply and exhaled. “I realize you don’t trust me, Young Master, but I hope you will utilize my knowledge of rituals. It will be of great help in whatever objective you are aiming for. It will be a powerful weapon to use when the Overseers come for you once again—and I promise you, they will.”

  Aziel didn’t for a moment question that. Now that he had a better understanding of the Seed, he was certain the Overseers were behind the rule change that had almost killed him. What he didn’t understand was why the Archivist had intervened once to help him, but not the second time. It meant there was more going on than he could extrapolate from the information he currently had.

  Aziel tried to remember his lessons in rituals so long ago. Neruul had only taught him on a few occasions before everything had become sidetracked. Reviewing his memories did bring another thing to his attention, however.

  “Why wasn’t I taught to weave? It was only rituals with you,” he asked.

  Neruul chuckled. “I can see you learned how to manipulate your mana to imitate the other mana types, but that is not your true power.” Neruul shook his head. “No one can teach you to weave your true power, Young Master. If you are asking, it means the Sovereign’s power within you has yet to manifest. Troubling for it to be taking so long… but still, until your unique power awakens, learning to use rituals is your best course.”

  “Unique power? What are you talking about?” Aziel asked, taken aback.

  “The ability to manipulate the primordial mana is unique to those who are connected in some way to a realm’s core. A Sovereign is one example of that. This connection allows such beings to make use of exceptional and powerful abilities, to become Awakened. Reaper was the first in Kadora. He is the Nexus’s oldest servant. Erethis was a powerful Herald of another realm. She became obsessed by the Nexus and its power, betraying her own core, and sacrificing it to the Nexus in order to join us in Kadora. As for what your Awakened power is, it is impossible to know until it actually manifests. There was one Sovereign who gained the power to turn the words he wrote into reality, while another gained the ability to manipulate objects with his mind alone. The Nexus core itself can grant wishes if it has enough power stored to do so. There is no limit to the possibilities, as far as I can tell.”

  Wishes… Aziel remembered when the Nexus told Neruul he had granted a desperate Valkyrie a wish… the wish for a child. But what was this unique ability he supposedly had yet to gain access to? And how did he go about unlocking it?

  Jar silently supported Neruul as he climbed off his seat and shuffled closer. Jar’s gaze never left Aziel, as if reminding him he was watching. Aziel met his stare flatly, wondering how the Ogre’i warrior could have forgotten how easily he had been subdued. Then again, Neruul was ancient, even more so than he. Aziel could only imagine what kind of place he held amongst his kind.

  Neruul placed a blue hand on Aziel’s shoulder, who had to physically stop himself from flinching away. “You may never forgive me,” the old Ogre’i said in a somber tone. “It is a truth I have had to bear since that fateful day. But I implore you to allow me to continue with your training. Your awakening will come in time, but I did not yet scratch the surface of rituals before the agents of the Seed came for you.”

  Aziel noticed Jar’s harsh gaze waver at Neruul’s words, his eyes flicking uncomfortably to his leader when he begged. The younger warrior’s lips parted as if to protest before he seemed to think better of it.

  Aziel hesitated, torn. He wanted nothing to do with this ancient struggle between the World Seed and the Sovereign. He wanted only to live his life, to keep the ones he loved safe, to build a sanctuary for those who had been wronged. But it had become increasingly difficult to do that with the Seed’s interference, and now the Nexus too. One side had already directly attacked him, almost killing him twice—while the other had also nearly killed him, but ultimately wanted to recruit him.

  Were rituals really that powerful? If they were, then perhaps he needed to study them. Other than the totems he had stumbled upon here in Whiteridge, and the one Neruul had used to imprison him, the only ritual he had heard of was Demonic Binding, a ritual used to enslave demons. Although he did not personally trust Neruul, he did trust that the old Ogre’i wanted him to become this Sovereign, and therefore would teach him honestly if given the chance.

  Aziel sighed and swallowed his own objections. “Go ahead then, make your case. The only ritual I have heard of so far is Demonic Binding, and it isn’t something I plan on employing. What possible use would I gain from studying with you?”

  Neruul reached down with difficulty, retrieved his pipe from where it had fallen, and held it between his lips. Jar grunted as he fetched a candle and held it against the circular bowl at the other end. Tiny embers, and a pleasant, woody smell, escaped it shortly after. Neruul took quick breaths, puffs of white smoke exiting his mouth with each exhalation.

  “It is quite simple, Young Master. Rituals, while taking longer to prepare, are far more dynamic than weaving. I like to think of it this way: weaving is like giving mana one-word commands. You create symbols which channel a single mana type, causing it to behave in a certain way: Activate, Bolt, Engulf, Empower, Multiply, and hundred others. Rituals, on the other hand, are like giving mana a detailed map and directions, with no limitations other than the mana you can provide to fuel it.”

  Aziel remembered the massive ritual circle Neruul had drawn in his memory. In terms of symbols, there must have be hundreds of them. There was no chance Aziel could weave a spell with that many symbols.

  Then again, neither had Neruul. It was a group effort which had taken the lives of many Grauda and Ogre’i, and left Neruul in the state he was in today. Not to mention also consuming Aziel’s memories.

  “If I am understanding this correctly, rituals are ultimately just large-scale spells?” Aziel asked.

  Neruul took another puff from his pipe before continuing. “Not necessarily. Enchantments are a simple form of ritual and are not general
ly considered spells. Rituals differ from weaving in their scope, yes. They are also able to mix several mana types together, and therefore create far more complex effects. This use of multiple mana types is why the primordial mana—what you call soul mana—is the most effective, as it can fill in for all mana types. Of course, the inability of others to utilize this soul mana leads to the unfortunate—but necessary—use of living sacrifices to fill in for those mana types. The sacrificed vessels are used to power the rituals.”

  Neruul lowed his pipe, his expression souring slightly. “In its most advanced forms, other, less tangible sacrifices can also be made use of to power a ritual…”

  “You mean like my memories,” Aziel said, his frustration leaking though once more.

  Neruul didn’t respond, instead giving him a tired smile.

  Shaking his head, Aziel thought again about the ritual he had witnessed and the multiple fist-sized crystals Neruul had used to help fuel it. One of every mana type. Aziel knew how dense mana crystals were, so the need to completely spend so many—along with the other sacrifices—further proved the sheer price that rituals demanded.

  Neruul made a contemplative sound. “You mentioned Demonic Binding. That is a ritual with a long history that has innocent origins. Demonic Binding, the basis for the slave contracts used so liberally today, had its origin in another ritual by the name of Demonic Union. As the name suggests, it was a ritual which symbolized a union between two demons, or a demon and any other race. A marriage of sorts.”

  Aziel raised a brow at that. Demons married? What was the point of that? Neruul appeared to foresee his follow-up question.

  “Demons are not as susceptible to Siphons as other races are,” he explained, “but like many other races who are created by the power of the cores, many of them can cross-breed. Demonic Union was created to protect a demon’s partner from succumbing to it. Of course, even rituals created with the best of intentions may have unintended consequences. It didn’t take long for more sinister individuals to manipulate the ritual in a way that extended its effects from just protecting an individual from a Siphon, to forcing the demon to serve the one they were bound to.”

  Aziel pressed his lips together. There was still one point that made no sense. Yes, other species were able to cross-breed—he was on the precipice of doing such a thing with Niyela. But demons? Demons couldn’t breed at all.

  “My king?”

  Aziel turned, all thoughts and concerns disappearing in an instant at the sound of her voice. A smile spread across his face when he saw Astrel standing at the doorway.

  “Astrel,” he called as he went to her, his hand wrapping around her and pulling her close. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”

  The Grauda queen returned the embrace. “Thank you for healing me,” she whispered.

  Aziel pulled away, his hands holding hers before giving her a knowing look. “You were the one who told me not to be so reckless, then you run off into danger like that.”

  Astrel had the good graces to look embarrassed, her honey-colored eyes drifting down shyly. Her Antennae drooped as she murmured, “I… I heard the panic in their voices.”

  Aziel assumed she was referring to the male Grauda she had tried to save. He had no idea how she had heard them from so far away; all he had heard were the Ogre’i roars.

  Neruul stepped up, Jar’s supportive hand helping him along. “Queen Astrel, a true honor to meet a Grauda queen after so long,” he said with a slight nod of his head.

  Astrel didn’t respond, her full attention instead fixated on Jar, the one who had killed so many and almost killed her. Her scythe arms inched upward the longer she glared at him. Noticing this, Neruul again lowered his head. “My deepest apologies and condolences for the awful way our two peoples, ancient allies of old, met atop this ridge.”

  Astrel again didn’t reply, instead looking at Aziel. “Did you ask, my king?”

  “Ask?” Aziel replied, puzzled.

  “Yes—ask if they will join the Fallen? If not, I wish for your permission to avenge my brothers,” she said, her tone cold and calculated. Her gaze again fixed on Jar, who grinned back at her challenge.

  Aziel cleared his throat. With all the talk of history, and his anger toward Neruul, he had forgotten his main objectives, one of which was to win over the Ogre’i. Even if he didn’t trust Neruul, that did not mean the Ogre’i had no place within the Fallen.

  “Is it safe to say you lead the Ogre’i?” Aziel asked as he stood beside Astrel, a hand going around her waist in the hope that his presence would calm her.

  Neruul shook his head. “I hold no place amongst the Ogre’i clans other than that I am the eldest.”

  Aziel clicked his tongue at that. “What would it take to get the Ogre’i to join my faction? How many are there of you in the Central Wilds?”

  Neruul glanced at Jar, then back at Aziel. “The Ogre’i will not serve anyone they see as weak. While my word might hold some weight with the khans, unless you prove your strength, it won’t matter. As for our numbers…” He glanced at Jar.

  “Ninthleen Alabor, baceri nadarye,” Jar responded.

  “Around four thousand, not including children,” Neruul translated.

  Aziel felt Astrel tense beside him. Four thousand Ogre’i was a force to be reckoned with. Just three had been able to rout a whole division of fully armed Grauda and their queen, the strongest of their race. He didn’t think Astrel would remain so eager to start a fight now that she knew the scope of what she would be pitted against.

  “I subdued him, does that count as a feat of strength?” Aziel persisted, with a nod to Jar. The Ogre’i didn’t seem to appreciate that, and scowled.

  Neruul chuckled, and patted Jar’s supporting hand. “Don’t take it so personally. Now go and call your Khan.” Jar sniffed as he helped Neruul back to his seat. The older Ogre’i smiled at Aziel as Jar lumbered from the room, his heavy footsteps thundering through the ruined halls.

  “An Ogre’i’s trial of strength is one without magic or enchantments,” Neruul said as he stroked his hand across the fur of his coat. “It is of weapon and brawn.”

  As if he had timed it perfectly, Aziel noticed two vessels making their way to the room they were in. A few moments later, Jar entered, followed by the even larger female Ogre’i from before. Her light blue eyes snapped to him, but her expression didn’t change.

  “May I introduce Kavali, the Khan of the largest Ogre’i clan,” Neruul said as he reached up to pat her. His hand could only reach her upper thigh. “She was kind enough to escort me when I insisted on the task of cleansing this place,” he added, looking up at her imposing figure. “Ahzeel narkara gostra,” he said.

  “Norgo, nanaleeth makoorith,” Kavali replied, her gaze never leaving Aziel.

  “She will accept your challenge if you dare offer it,” Neruul translated.

  “What language is that?” Aziel asked. Though he had known many existed, this was the first instance he had heard another language spoken. The language he himself spoke was supposed to be Caelian in origin, but Aziel knew that to be false—it was far older than that. Even if it sounded slightly different, it was the same language his mother, Neruul, the Nexus Crown, and the Archivist had used in his memories and visions. If races as diverse as the Grauda and the humans spoke the same language, he had assumed everyone else did too.

  “It is our ancient tongue,” Neruul replied. “We teach our children how to speak it before they learn to speak Common, though most who don’t speak Common can still understand what is being said. It is a way for our race to preserve our ancient culture. The Seed prefers and promotes uniformity in all things. It chose the runic language of the Var, the most commonly used at the time, and promoted it to all—even the other realms. It became so pervasive, even the Nexus began using it. Today, it goes by a million other names: Caelian, Mareeshi, Getaak, but in the end it all is the same language. The common language. The Ogre’i choose to defy that by keeping our roots.”
r />   “The Var?” Aziel asked.

  “Yes, an exceptionally intelligent race which had…” Neruul frowned, before moving his hand to his chin and waggling his fingers, “feelers, on their faces.”

  Aziel snorted at how ridiculous the Ogre’i looked trying to imitate another race. But it worked—he remembered the race with tentacles for chins from his vision of the throne room. “Where are the Var now?”

  Neruul shook his head. “They are long gone. The World Seed preserved their language, but found the Var themselves too troublesome. It did what it does to all races it finds difficult: it placed strict limitations on their breeding, and waited.”

  “Strict limitations? What sort of limitations?”

  The old Ogre’i’s face dropped, his brows scrunching up as a deep frown thinned his lips. “The Seed uses its mark to influence and modify those it deems too risky. Sometimes, this means modifying the actual mana channels. This is what essentially happens when you learn a skill through the log. It is also what limits the power of an Ascended such as yourself. In other cases, it is much more nefarious—in general, the more magically gifted a race was, the more modifications the Seed imposed on their fertility.” Neruul blew into the pipe he had been puffing on, clearing it before producing a pinch of dried herbs from his sack and refilling the bowl. He lit the herbs before taking another long inhale through the pipe.

  “For some races, it made the requirements for proper conception tougher, therefore reducing their number overall. Dryads, one of the few magically gifted races of prominence here in the Central Wilds, are not originally from Kadora, but were planted in Kadora fairly recently in the grand scheme of things. In Kadora, as in their original realm, which is also Seeded, they were changed so they would need a male of certain traits of another race to aid in conception. This was a change which greatly reduced their population and had a lasting impact on their traditions and culture over time. It is my understanding that Dryads were able to conceive on their own before that, using their own stored-up mana to create seeds. This is but one example of many, I’m afraid. Some died out over time. Others, like the Dryads, were able to adapt to their new reality.”