by Jeff Inlo
Linda looked at it from an opposing viewpoint, though with restrained emotions.
"You want to talk about all the things we've been through? Fine. Maybe they were all one big sign. Somebody was trying to tell us something, but we didn't want to listen. Now I see it, and it's hard not to listen. Maybe the sword didn't try to give you some clear understanding because you already knew the truth, but refused to accept it. That's happened with the sword before. It can't make us believe the truth if we don't want to."
"No! Now you're trying to twist things to make me believe something that's not true. We can get help for this. We're going to talk to someone that knows. Enin used to be able to see destinies. He knows the truth. He can help us."
"Enin's not here anymore. He lives in Connel."
"I know. We're going to talk to him."
"I'm not going anywhere. I don't have to talk to some wizard about something I already know."
"Then I'll go alone!"
"So you're leaving again... already."
Not willing to be deterred, Ryson admitted his intentions.
"That's right. I am. But I'm not going out on some scout. I'm going to Connel and I'm going to find out about all of this. I don't want to leave you like this, but I'm not going to ignore it, either. This is too important. It's about us. If I stay, I'll just be sitting here watching it all die. I'm not going to do that."
"You do whatever you think you have to," Linda allowed as she stared back up into the blank ceiling.
Chapter 17
Another arasap waited outside the back of Ryson and Linda's home. It could distinguish the discussion inside by perceiving the vibration of their voices. It knew Ryson was leaving for Connel. It simply had to be patient.
It could not be detected by sight as it flattened itself onto the ground and appeared as nothing more than a wide puddle not yet drained into the very soaked ground. It was slightly concerned about Ryson noticing its scent as it understood the potent senses of delvers, but it believed he was much too distracted to perceive such a minor irregularity in the air.
Within but a few moments, the small hair-like protrusions on the exterior of the creature picked up the departure of the delver. It felt the force of the front door opening and closing, and then the breeze of Ryson racing up the street on his way to Connel.
The arasap knew that the delver would be gone for quite some time, much longer than necessary for it to complete its task. It knew the condition of its objective. It had been afforded that information from other arasaps. Their form of telepathy allowed them to communicate with each other over fairly long distances. It knew the woman would not struggle, and so, it did not even have to waste magic to disguise its appearance.
The greasy substance of the arasap slipped easily beneath the back door. Once inside the home, it rose up from its flattened state but took no distinguishable shape beyond a distorted, oblong mass. It slid through the house until it found its objective laying down in a back bedroom.
Linda heard the sick gurgling noise of the creature pushing its own amorphous substance across the floor. When it entered the room where she lay, she regarded the ghastly blob with only mild interest. To her, it looked like nothing more than an oversized bubble that might arise from a slimy bar of soap.
Despite its repugnant presence, she actually showed more curiosity to the floor where the arasap moved. She wondered if it left a thick ooze. Based on the disgusting noise it made while slogging across the floor, she imagined there would be an obvious trail of sludge. She was neither surprised nor grateful to see that the monster left no evidence of its path upon the surface it traveled.
The creature's grease-like body remained completely intact and it left none of its substance behind. There were no tracks at all, not a trace of its passage left upon the floor. Even when the delver returned to his home, he would have to concentrate fully to detect the slightest hint of the arasap's trail.
The creature no longer concerned itself with the delver. Its mission was directed toward Linda Acumen and it leaned over her bed with malicious intent.
Linda continued to display little concern over the invasion. She regarded the monster as a minor curiosity, but nothing more. As she looked up into the center of the thick, towering mass, she believed she heard it speak, and in a way, she did. Its voice, however, reached her through her mind, not her ears.
"I was informed you would be obedient," the arasap indicated with satisfaction.
Linda didn't believe she was being submissive in any way. She simply didn't care about the creature or its plans. Her emotions had been temporarily deadened, isolated and blocked off from her consciousness. For the most part, her mind was clear—she could think without any fog of confusion—but her thoughts lacked any passion whatsoever.
"You remind me of someone," Linda replied with barely any interest in the monster's words or its intentions.
"I am not surprised. Others have come before me. Now, turn your head."
Out of complete indifference to her well-being, Linda did comply. She turned her head away from the arasap and looked at a corner of the ceiling. She kept staring at that blank corner even as she felt a thick fluid slide up her arm toward the base of her neck. She never flinched even as the sludgy substance pressed against her skin, passed through it, and slunk deep down her spine.
Eventually, she took her gaze away from the corner and looked to where the creature had been hovering over her. It was no surprise to her that it was gone. She couldn't feel it inside of her, wasn't sure it was there, but she could not deny the thought of being infected by a foreign substance. After only a few moments, she didn't even care.
Chapter 18
"So what do you benefit from this?" Scheff asked as he walked behind the sorcerer through the dark realm.
"Still concerned with some kind of hidden price? Do you think I'm some demon? You sound like the girl that chose to leave with her camp." Ansas stopped as he considered the elf, Haven Wellseed. He looked back over his shoulder at where the elves had departed. He hoped she might be running after them, but there was nothing behind them but barren rock. "Shame. She had potential. More than you."
"She could not cast in a circle. I can."
"It's not what she is," the sorcerer noted forcefully as he turned completely about to face the elf, "but what she could be."
"That may be," Scheff replied defensively, "but she is gone and I am here."
"True, she held to her simplistic beliefs, yet you are still asking me inane questions," Ansas noted.
"I do not think so," Scheff argued. "My beliefs are based on reality. You are offering to assist me. You said you would show me how to purge myself of my impurities. You also said you would instill part of your black energy within me. I do not believe someone like you gives away power so willingly, without anything to gain in return."
"I suppose your concern is somewhat reasonable," Ansas conceded. The sorcerer then stared directly into the face of the elf with an expression almost as dark as the magic he cast. "I do this because I want to prove a point... and I hope to gain an ally. The point is that purity remains paramount. You can never be as dominant as I am, but you can become something of legendary ability. As for being my ally, I do expect some gratitude once you realize what I've done for you. You will be far more powerful than you are now, and I may want that power at my disposal."
"So you wish to make me a slave?"
Ansas could not contain his disgust, though he spoke in a very controlled manner.
"You are an idiot. If I wanted to make you a slave, I could do so with a wave of my hand. Do you think I couldn't?"
"Then why don't you?"
"Because you would only be a shell of what you could be. I can't make you grow stronger if you are under my influence. You are no value to me under those circumstances."
"But why do you think I would serve you as an ally?"
"Because once you see how much more you can be, you will understand what I offer. I can give or t
ake away the ebony energy at my discretion. If you turn against me, you will give up everything. If you take advantage of the opportunities I offer, you will grow more powerful by the day."
And so it was laid bare before Scheff. He did have a choice to make. If he agreed, he would link himself to Ansas in more ways than one. He might not be a slave, or even a servant, but he would be at the sorcerer's call. Further, the power of Scheff's magic would not be completely his own. That did not sit well with the elf. It was not simply a matter of associating with the brusque sorcerer, it meant accepting a different kind of subordination. Even as he was gaining a level of independence by releasing the shackles of camp elders and traditional elf beliefs, he was tying himself to the whims of the sorcerer. He did not wish to trade one suffocating constraint for another.
He almost refused, almost created his own portal back to Uton, but in the end, he decided everything had a cost. A deeper desire grew stronger than his concerns. He voiced that craving to Ansas to ensure he would receive the proper compensation for his collaboration.
"It is not just powerful magic I am after," Scheff admitted. "When you talk of what I could become, I believe I understand what you mean. There is something within me, something of great significance. I know I can be more than I am. You said 'legendary,' but I believe I can be something even more. I do not wish to be one more elf in the legends of elflore. What is elflore but a collection of myths?"
"I don't bother with such trivialities," Ansas responded with disregard to the myths of Scheff's race.
"That is exactly my point. I will not be trivial. I can surpass the legends."
"An interesting ambition, but surpassing the legends is nothing more than comparing yourself to long dead elves."
"That may be true," Scheff acknowledged, "but I must accept my current station. I am nothing but an ordinary elf with a special ability to control violet magic."
"And that's not enough for you," Ansas noted while comprehending the craving in the elf's voice.
"No, it is not. My aspirations go beyond simply casting spells with efficiency and skill. I do not wish to look to external sources. You, your ebony magic, even the violet magic that I can control now; all of that is inconsequential. It is all outside of what I am. I want to advance, to evolve. I do not wish to simply cast spells of power based on the energy I can wield. I want the full power of the storm to bend at my whim. I want to become the storm."
Ansas tilted his head at the elf, at first in curiosity and then in appreciation.
"It seems you do have some idea of what I'm talking about, because that's exactly what I'm offering. You have an inner talent, a skill that you can either waste or expand. If you wish to step beyond being a skilled spell caster and toward becoming an elemental force, you have to devote yourself to that inner ability. You must become the lord and master of your ambition, the director of your path. For you, there is nothing but your grasp over the violet hue. As I said to the other elf, the magic must serve you. You do not serve the magic. Unless you can accept this one principle, you will never reach your intended goals."
"I understand."
"Good, then follow me."
Ansas led Scheff back to the small wooden house that served as the sorcerer's home in the otherwise bleak realm of monsters and chaos. As they walked, not one creature dared molest them in any way. The dark creatures that lay in wait for prey could sense the power in the sorcerer and they wanted nothing to do with him.
Upon entering the house, they moved through the corridor and back to the sorcerer's study. Three other individuals waited inside, but Ansas did not bother to acknowledge their presence as he moved to his desk. He had called to them as he walked with Scheff and their attendance was expected.
Before sitting in his chair, Ansas pointed to a spot on the floor.
"Stand there and don't move."
Scheff obliged but felt uncomfortable as all eyes were upon him. He looked upon the three strangers that regarded him with both interest and suspicion. Two were human, a man and a woman. The third was an infern, a half-demon dressed in black armor with a white hot face.
"His hue is violet but there are many impurities within him," Ansas announced to the others. "I will need you all to help purify him."
The command appeared to alleviate the suspicions of the three spell casters as well as invigorate their attention to the newcomer. It was as if Ansas was offering up the elf as a late afternoon snack.
Scheff's discomfort grew, but he held his tongue. It was not trust that kept him quiet, for he had none for any that were before him. He doubted any of them would be true to their word, regardless of the circumstances. They had their own interests to guard, as did he. It was his own desire that kept him still, and that desire began to burn.
As he stood in that small room, he felt an extremely distinct and very unique aura of power around each individual. The more he probed the energy around them, the more apparent it became. As his sight adjusted to the pulse of magic, he believed he could see a cloud of dark red envelop the male human, while a mist of navy blue encircled the female. The infern glowed constantly, but its white face and black armor suddenly appeared immersed in a haze of burnt orange.
He realized he could see the brilliance of their undiluted hues, their individual focus purified in the most precise manner. They had also agreed to Ansas' terms and found glorified legitimacy in the concentrated nature of their inherent abilities. Red, blue, and orange; the color of each was deeper and darker than he had ever seen before in any realm of existence.
Scheff reveled in his decision, believing he would find the same vivacity in the violet essence within him. He foresaw his individual supremacy in the sheer magnificence of a titanic storm.
He almost laughed at the three spell casters there to assist in his transformation. What were they? Land, water, and fire; insignificant to the potential of his path. The pure ferocity of a storm was more than just a cataclysmic tempest raging over land and water. The storm was the raging fury of gods. He stood at the doorstep of transcendence, of becoming a god himself.
The consideration was intoxicating and the perspective forced further self-examination. He thought of his previous advancements, how proud he was to reach the skill of casting in a perfect circle. He once thought he might reach the proficiency of white magic. A renewed contemplation on that empty ambition caused him to shift his amusement and laugh at his own ignorance.
What did he need with other hues? Why should he dilute himself? To cast in white meant ignoring the very power that was his and his alone. Just as he stated to Ansas, he grasped tightly to the belief that he did not need to reach out to some exterior force. He only had to develop the violet hue deep within himself and he would ascend into a higher being, become an immortal of elemental dominance.
"I want to begin," Scheff stated.
"We are about to," Ansas replied. "Do you think I would waste time?"
Scheff smiled slightly.
Ansas leaned back in his chair as he regarded the elf with greater care than he normally allowed. With near boredom, he described what Scheff should expect.
"Despite the fact that magic itself is pure in form, there is always residue from past spells that cling to both the energy and the caster. Since you have cast spells in many hues, there is a great pool of impurity at your core. The first step of the process is to remove this unnecessary and unwanted residue."
"What must I do?"
"I have devised a method that will allow you to cast off your energy into what is essentially a filter. I will create a conduit between you and another object, one that I will not identify. You only need to know that the target will not accept magic, and that is the key to the purging. As the magic escapes through the conduit but is not captured, it will quickly break free. It will do so in pure form, for while the object at the end of the conduit will not accept the magical energy, it cannot deflect the impurities within the magic. All of the shadows, echoes and residues of your past spells
will be pulled free and absorbed. The magic itself will facilitate the purification by pulling more and more of the residue from you and depositing it into the opposite end of the conduit. Do you understand?"
"I believe so, but what kind of object refuses to accept magic, or reject it, especially in pure form?"
"That is not your concern. What you must focus on is the process. At the beginning, it will be very easy for you. The magic will pour out of you in a normal fashion, but the purification process will quickly accelerate. The energy within you will begin to dwindle to levels I doubt you have ever experienced. You will feel weak and empty. You will want to break from the transfer. You must not."
"I will hold."
"I don't doubt it, but that won't be the true test. With the most peripheral energy depleted, the magic held at your very core will begin to join the transfer. It is at this point I will direct the other spell casters to link to your essence to draw out any vestiges of energy matching their particular hues. They will feed on energy that should not be within you in the first place. This will be quite painful."
Scheff looked at those around him with a greater appreciation for their eagerness. They would grow stronger at his expense, but it was only temporary. If he wished to remove those energies that would inhibit him, he had to accept the terms.
"I see."
"And then you will begin the most painful process. I must remove what is left within you before I can infuse your core with ebony energy. The black magic will become the foundation for your new magical core. Do you know why?"
Scheff could guess, but he did not wish to make the attempt. He knew the sorcerer had a far greater understanding of the ebony magic, and he wanted to learn, not to expound foolish conjecture.
