The Court of Souls?_Volume 2_Agent of the Realm?

by Andur

Marcus shrugs. “So this time he won't risk staying for too long. He already had a face to face experience with your dad. No reason to repeat the experiment with the expectation of a different result.”

  Finally something of interest happens. So far, the room beyond the grid was filled with a strained silence. Just as if the people were waiting for something to happen. Now the guy with the cloak makes gestures in the air and a small hologram appears in front of him. It's hard to say for sure, but I suppose he is looking at tactical display of the pyramid, which is very similar ours. He studies it for several moments.

  Whatever took him so long to make a decision, it doesn't seem to matter any longer when the lights flicker, plunging the room in darkness for a second. It seems as if our people damaged the energy core. The plan said to take the core intact, but its destruction is a real possibility when beings who can wrench metal like clay fight in close proximity to it. These pyramids aren't made of mana crystal, so they aren't exactly ideal battlegrounds for higher immortals. If one person gets a little too excited, he can do real damage to the whole structure.

  Luckily nobody seems to be too keen about destroying the pyramid, given its calming effect on the spirits.

  The cloaked guy stands up and gestures for his guards to make some space. They oblige.

  “Seems like it's our turn...” Marcus shifts and stretches a hand towards the grid.

  I place my hand on his. “Wait until he actually does something, treasure every moment. Once he actually opens a portal, we blast the whole room with everything we have.”

  77. ~Fighting dirty.~

  “An eye for an eye will only make the whole world blind.”

  The Journey to the Afterlife

  Pyramid Superstructure

  Seria

  The cloaked figure is about to cast a spell when the door shudders. Someone announced his presence to the whole throne room. Sadly I've no way to tell if my parents have already made it this far. Though they certainly had the time for it.

  I let go of my husband and use both hands to widen the grid which is protecting the ventilation shaft. The people in the room have all their attention on the door anyway. Another impact rocks the door and runes flare on its surface, announcing the presence of an old and powerful barrier. Whoever is on the other side of the door can't get in without breaking the barrier first.

  The figure returns to his chant, casting in a low, raspy voice. That's when the floor around the throne lights up, revealing a complicated pattern of magical circuitry. A portal spell.

  “You take care of the door, I'll stop him from completing the portal,” I order Marcus and ready myself to punch the grid in order to be able to cast my spells without obstructions.

  The magic around the throne starts humming with power, a certain sign that the spell is being channelled and about to take effect. I punch the grid and send it flying into the room, startling everyone. Without waiting for their reaction or caring for the damage to the surroundings, I aim my open palm at the magical circuit and the cloaked guy who is standing on it.

  I waited for the last moment to force our friend into a tight spot. If the cloaked guy is anything like my father, then I don't want to take him head on. In fact, I want to avoid fighting him at all. For that reason I delayed our intervention and waited until the cloaked guy was committed to his spell. It's fortunate that he decided to power the rune circle himself. He probably didn't trust in his ship to supply a steady stream of energy. No wonder with the power outage from just earlier.

  A portal spell doesn’t have room for mistakes or energy fluctuations.

  But now that he is committed to the spell, even if he is just powering the circle, he is left with three options. Option one, try to go through with it while I blow up his ass. Option two, cancel the spell in an orderly manner and dissipate the gathered energy. Option three, forcibly interrupt the spell and suffer the consequences, namely magical backlash.

  Seeing the golden orb of light emerging from my palm, the cloaked guy decides that option three may not be healthy, but still the one with the least consequences to his own person. He jumps out of the circle and rolls off with unexpected agility as my attack spell impacts the spot where he was standing just moments ago.

  My magic registers the lack of a target and fragments according to its design. The result is very similar to a fragmentation grenade. Countless marbles of golden light pepper the ground, throne and the surrounding guards, each creating its own miniature explosion.

  Some unprepared guards are wounded, others with a little more sense for self-preservation manage to shield themselves, blocking the marbles which contain only a fragment of the original spell's power. But the damage to the floor is extreme as dozens of little craters open up, sending out metal fragments of their own.

  The magical circuit flickers and its light vanishes as the energy snaps back to the caster. The cloaked figure twitches in visible pain, clawing at a non-existent enemy.

  As I ready myself to follow with a second attack, Marcus's hand shoots out, throwing a little axe of light. The weapon rotates twice before it sinks into the door, its nature drawing the attention of most of the guards. The door shudders again and one of the quicker soldiers races for the weapon. He most likely assumed correctly that it won't be good for the barrier to be attacked from the inside.

  Barriers are a tricky thing. Most of them work only in one direction. The more versatile a barrier is, the harder it is to maintain. And I assume that Marcus just hit the door with the strongest dispelling chant he knows.

  Before the guard reaches the axe, it explodes in a flash of light, wiping out the complicated runes on the door. The next blow from the other side throws the door wide open, revealing my parents and Beth together with several of our soldiers. The wings of the door slam into the guards to the left and right, sending them flying. I think it's preferable to being squashed to death.

  While they charge into the room, I pull myself forward and drop to the ground. Landing in a low stance, I hurry to get out of the way by throwing myself at the closest guard.

  Marcus isn't as quick and is forced to block a hail of attack spells which is aimed at the ventilation shaft. He summons a shield of light which simply absorbs most of the magic. Some of the guards finally identified the hole as the source of the sabotage.

  As our people charge into the room and force the guards to turn their attention to a more immediate problem, the attacks on the ventilation shaft lessen. This gives Marcus a chance to join the battle.

  In the meanwhile I have my own hands full. The guard in front of me turns out to be of the sturdy type. He was blinded by the flash of light, which I used to disarm him by twisting his sword out of his hand. But he wasn't completely taken by surprise. After the weapon fell to the ground, he started fighting back by swinging his bear-like fists in a slow and methodical manner. We exchange a few blows with me dodging all of his attacks while it becomes clear that my opponent is no amateur.

  He is used to fighting quick opponents, steadily forcing me into a corner. I growl and throw myself at his waist, channelling a large portion of my power into my inner magical system. Even if he is strong, my body armour should withstand a few blows. The plates on the floor squeak as my feet dig into the metal. The guard manages to pummel my back with three blows before I lift him and send both of us into a spiralling motion.

  Stepping sideways I hammer the wall with his upper body, stunning him.

  I am about to change my grip when a sharp pain stings into my lower torso and a blade appears from my lower belly. Someone attacked me from behind and managed to slip his blade between the plates of my armour. And a belly wound on top! Those hurt like hell!

  And why do I always get stabbed in the back?

  I scream in rage, turn around and throw my opponent at the backstabber. Both go down in a heap and then Marcus is above them, bringing down a longsword of light. The weapon slides through both of their chests, pinning them to the floor. “Fool! Why didn't you wa
it?”

  “I wasn’t hit in a vital spot, so stop overreacting!” I reach out and throw a death curse at a guard who approaches Marcus from behind. The man struggles and is pushed back, but doesn't go down immediately.

  Marcus twists the longsword and pulls it out of the dead bodies, flawlessly changing it into a bow. He draws and aims in a single motion, sending a flash of light right past my cheek. I don't have to look at the result, since a fine shower of blood wets me from behind.

  I reach for the wound on my belly and cast a quick healing spell to stop the flow of blood. Dedessian physiology can heal a lot, but bleeding too much can still result in loss of consciousness. With an effortless move I use my foot to send the dropped sword from earlier upwards and grab it. Then I swing it at Marcus and he dodges. The weapon buries itself deep inside the opponent who resisted my curse, splitting open his chest.

  Massive trauma to the body is still the best way to kill someone. I send a second curse into him, this time using the sword like a lightning rod to transmit the spell. The man trembles and his heart stutters. Then he topples over, his lifestrings cut.

  When I turn around, the battle is almost over. Only Dad and the cloaked figure keep fighting next to the throne's remains. It's a fierce magical duel in which neither of them seems inclined to step down. The released power of their auras is so strong that I don't even dare to step closer. It almost seems as if they don't care that they could damage the pyramid.

  Unfortunately, having my father fighting exactly that opponent is the worst outcome for us.

  78. ~Split.~

  “Denial is commonly found among persons with dissociative disorders. My favourite quotation from such a client is, ‘We are not multiple, we made it all up.’ I have heard this from several different clients. When I hear it, I politely inquire, ‘And who is we?’”

  The Journey to the Afterlife

  Pyramid Superstructure

  Seria

  The battle between my father and the stranger intensifies and I start considering my options. We could call for a quick retreat and do our best to be somewhere else if worse comes to worst. If they decide to go all out, they might bring down the whole pyramid around them.

  Or we could try to break up the battle. Maybe we can separate them somehow, although that sounds unlikely. It's hard to interfere in a magical duel. All sorts of things could go wrong when two parties throw magic at each other.

  I watch in awe as the both of them casually fling deadly spells at each other while simultaneously parrying their opponent with counterspells. Shade summons a thin ray of energy from his fingertip and slices the remains of the throne in half. Hadn't the stranger turned into some form of mist, he would have shared the same fate. When a shower of icicles shoots forth from the cloud of mist, Shade raises a barrier, stopping the attack. He answers with a gust of wind, forcing his enemy back to a more substantial form.

  Another spell goes astray and smashes one of the soldiers against the wall, driving him through it like a bullet through a sheet of paper. The men around us cry out. Everyone who is too weak to protect himself hurries for the door, hoping that a little more distance between them and the combatants provides more protection.

  More like it makes it less likely to be hit by a stray spell.

  My whirling thoughts come to an abrupt halt when the two opponents suddenly forfeit finesse and decide to battle it out with raw power. They meet each other in the centre of the room, their auras scraping against each other. The resulting energy causes the metal to glow under their feet while sizzling sparks fly everywhere. They didn't bother to take down their protections, so now their auras are scraping against each other like two bricks of steel.

  I hurry to pull Marcus with me, leading him around my father and towards Beth who is with my mother. “We have to split them up before either of them flips completely!”

  Mom pulls a face and spreads her hands in a helpless gesture. “It looks like we are a little late for that. I tried to persuade Shade to pursue another objective, but he didn't want to listen. How should we get them apart now? Trying to get between them would be like jumping between two freight trains. I am not too keen to get caught up in this.” She points at the two idiots who are trying to use their magic like wrestlers.

  I scowl. “Do something! Use your witchy powers or whatever! Aren't you his soulpartner? You should know how to restrain him. I warned you because I feared that exactly something like this would happen.”

  “Butterfly, if I've learned one thing about your father, then it's not to interfere in his battles. I've prepared a little trick for the worst case scenario. Let's hope it doesn't come to that.” Out of nowhere, she fabricates a big syringe with a sickly green liquid inside. “I really don't want to use it, but if everything else fails...” She lets the rest unspoken.

  Shade and the strange figure send each other flying with a last push of power, landing in opposite walls. When Dad gets back to his feet he freezes, the figure's cloak in his hand.

  Opposite from him, a beauty with raven black hair gets to her feet. Her features are new to me, yet strangely familiar. If I didn't know better, I would say that she is Dad's sister. Well, she probably would be a beauty if it wasn't for the insane rage edged into her face.

  Shade points at her, his hand shaking. “This can't be... Who are you!?”

  The beauty coughs and throws her ruffled hair behind her shoulders. “How insulting! Did you really forget about me? Are you really that content in your current life that you forgot everything, Master? I searched and searched, yet you don't even recognize me?”

  “Master?”

  “You really forgot!” The beauty screeches and grabs a part of the wall, ripping it out with ease. She throws the heavy, metal plate at Dad who dodges by stepping to the side. “But I suppose there never was that much to me. As long as I serve you, it's fine. Isn't it? Nice, little servant without a body! How I loathed not being able to take part in a real life!”

  Oh, crap!

  “You aren't me! Our auras are the same, yet you aren't me. How can this be!?” Shade calls out, his face distorting in rage.

  “Of course we aren't the same! Stupid. Why would you think that?”

  “The colliding multiverses! Our auras. Aren't you me from another multiverse? It doesn't matter, soon I'll get to the bottom of this.” Shade bends down to the metal plate and conjures a chain with shackles from it.

  The beauty frowns. “You thought... oh, that's brilliant and yet stupid of you master! Of course it will never work like that; even with two separate multiverses, there can only be one soul. Two identical souls cannot exist within the same space and time. Even being near each other would cause them to resonate and destroy each other. I think you are the only being in existence who has two souls. Or rather, a split one.” She reaches for the wall and rips out a pipe. “Soon to be one soul! I'll see to that.”

  They meet each other in the centre of the room, Shade flailing with his chains and the beauty swinging her pipe.

  “I don't get it!” Mom mutters.

  Beth claps her hands and laughs. “This is brilliant! Don't you remember? It's Warden! Somehow she got a body of her own this time. One of Shade's stupid experiments came back to bite him in the ass! Though I don't really get why she is so angry with him. I rather liked her.”

  “Warden?” The artificial intelligence which was born when Dad split off a part of his soul? “She got independent? I thought that her soul-shard would reintegrate with the rest of Shade's soul once they both die. It works like that, doesn't it?”

  Mom purses her lips. “Unless the soul utterly, totally rejects that part of itself. In Shade's case, his femininity... which Warden represents. I suppose it must have been horrible for Warden to be ejected like that and then treated as a convenient tool.” The syringe wavers, pointing first at one brawling idiot, and then at the other. “I am honestly unsure of who to put down. This anaesthetic is rather strong with unpleasant side effects.”

&
nbsp; Shade throws his chain around Warden's ankle and pulls her feet out from under her. She slams with her back onto the ground, wincing. But not without using her pipe to get a good hit at Dad's knee, followed by several weaker blows at his upper body which came into reach since he fell too.

  He ignores them to the best of his ability and wraps the chain around Warden's throat, strangling her while she knees his guts with fanatic zeal. It almost looks like Warden's win when she gets free and uses the pipe like a wood-chopper with Dad under her. He bucks and throws her off, whipping her with the chain.

  “This is getting ridiculous! Give me that. I'll put an end to this.” I take the syringe from Mom and launch myself into the battle, using their distraction to inject both of them. First Dad who has his back to me, then Warden who is to my luck a little hindered by the magical chain around her feet. Mom's witchy power takes effect rather quickly, resulting in both opponents slowing down. Their movements turn sluggish until they finally drop to the ground.

  “Betrayal! What did you do Seria!?” Dad accuses me.

  “I'll never give up! I'll have my revenge! Especially after he simply forgot about me just like that,” Warden yells.

  I inspect the syringe while the two of them are yelling like a pair of scorned lovers. “Did it work? They are down, but they are still yelling.”

  “The correct term is 'paralysed', Butterfly. Their magic is also gone. I need Shade aware and awake to face his inner demon. He can't do that if he is sleeping.” Mom approaches and pulls Shade into an upright position. “And now we are going to have a long, nice conversation between adults. We have to learn why Warden created this mess. And how to solve our disputes without fighting or laying waste to the multiverse.”

  I clear my throat. “I don't want to destroy the mood, but there is still a huge rift outside this pyramid, allowing the spirits into our multiverse.” Scowling, I turn to face Warden who is being tended to by Beth.

  Warden doesn’t answer and instead stares defiantly at me.