by Matt Russell
He raised his hand in the direction of the blond girl and said: "Seithiak Neresketh." Two spectrals moved through him, combining discrete pockets of his energy into a small, swirling cloud of inky black energy. It would rupture the girl's heart within her chest. There would be no clear proof that she had been killed by sorcery – certainly no evidence that it had been done by a Starborn.
"NOO!" Iona screamed. Dunlin let go of her arm behind her back and cupped a hand over her mouth and moved the blade a little closer to her neck, snarling: "Not another sound!"
Arkas did not hesitate. He willed the construct of deathly magic at the blond girl. Surprisingly, she let out no scream but only shut her eyes and cringed, her hands going up in a desperate gesture of self-protection. Then something happened that Arkas did not expect: the spell shattered in the air, bursting into thousands of tiny translucent fragments that dissipated into nothingness.
"WHAT?!" he snarled.
The blond girl flinched, but then opened her eyes and looked at him. There was confusion in her face.
"What's going on, boss?" Dunlin said, his voice tense.
"I—I don't know," Arkas rasped. He glared at the blond girl, his eyes falling again on her slave mark. Who the hell was she? He lifted his right hand, this time not even bothering to form a spell. He willed raw magic out through his fingers to crush her throat. His power moved at the speed of thought to her flesh, yet the instant it touched her it recoiled back, returning with such force that he felt several bones in his hand snap. He wrenched back his limb with a scream of agony.
The blond girl blinked and ran a finger over the place on her neck where his magic had touched her. She still looked confused, but some of the terror left her eyes. Blood was rushing to Arkas's shattered hand, and he was unable to hold back a whimper from the pain. What was happening? How could this former slave stand against him? In a panic, he gathered his will to attack her again, but to his terror, his own energy failed to obey his command. Instead, it began to turn on him!
"GHHH!" he screamed as a sensation of searing pain erupted through his body. His own magic burned and ripped at his muscles and his nerves. "STOP IT!" The agony only grew, and he realized in a flash of terror that his own Starborn power was going to kill him.
Dunlin moved very suddenly. He threw Iona to the ground and slammed the metallic handle of his dagger into the side of the blond girl's skull. Arkas saw her eyes roll back as she fell unconscious to the ground, and the terrible onslaught of his magic ceased. He collapsed to his knees, gasping.
"D-do I kill her?!" Dunlin hissed back over his shoulder. He stood over the unconscious girl, his fingers trembling around the handle of his weapon.
"N-no," Arkas managed to wheeze. He gazed at the slumped form as a sickening realization crept into his mind. "J-just leave her."
The man hesitated. "H-how did she do that to you? Are you sure she isn't the weapon?"
"S-she isn't," Arkas rasped as he rose to his feet. He knew exactly what she was. He took a nervous step back from her, feeling his whole body—his entire soul shiver with fear. He had not wanted to believe that she existed, but there she was, just a few paces away. The Norn had known that this girl would be here when she set him on this path, and if Dunlin had not acted when he did, Arkas would have died. He drew still further away. Much as he burned to end the wretch’s life for the pain she had caused him, there was no telling what would happen if they killed her.
"Leave the little bitch," he said, shaking off his fear. The link had been broken. He turned to Iona, who was once again trembling on the ground. She had not tried to run, having stayed for the sake of her sister. Loyalty was such a ridiculous trait! He knelt over her and moved the hand that was not broken to his mouth and pulled his half stuffed glove off with his teeth, revealing his gnarled mess of a right appendage to the air. Iona shrieked as he moved it to her forehead. He needed to see in that moment that the world was within his grasp—that she was the weapon he had spent years anticipating.
The girl hyperventilated as his magic permeated her skin. It seeped around into her blood and bones and into the soft, shifting organs. There was nothing at first except the infinitesimal energies of living flesh, but then he caught a sense of something. It was not in one single point but was a kind of field that burned very quietly all throughout her body. It was unworldly—utterly unlike anything Arkas had ever felt. It was not magic. It was something . . . the only word that came to mind was that it was purer than magic. Whatever it was, its power was incalculable. This was indeed the weapon that could kill his father!
Arkas made one more sweeping scan of Iona's mind. He could detect no mental connection to the vast energies within her. The power did not react to her thoughts or emotions. Indeed, she had no idea of its existence. Incredibly, this former slave was the unwitting vessel to what might be the greatest force in the entire world, and she was his!
Arkas stood and let out a laugh of pure delight. Then he gestured at the girl with his left hand and whispered: "Estrakia Nesveth." A spell formed instantly and whisked into her. He felt it pull just enough blood from her brain to render her unconscious. She fell limp, but he willed his magic into a large, gentle hand around her so that she did not hit her head. This girl was the most precious thing in the world!
"Get the horses," Arkas whispered to Dunlin. He turned then and gazed back at Stavros. The man had dragged the bodies of the witnesses into an alley and thrown some loose fence planks over them. He was pacing about now, making sure that no more unfortunate souls happened to wander onto the strange scene.
As Dunlin disappeared around the corner to retrieve the steeds, Arkas took one more look at the blond girl. The Norn's trap had nearly succeeded, but luck had been on his side. Was that not proof that he was meant to prevail? Was it not proof that he alone was meant to rule Denigoth?
Chapter 14:
The Spirit World
Kota knelt silently in front of the small domed hut he and Gretis had constructed together from long tree branches and the tanned skins of cows. They had traveled for three days away from the Onkai temple, deep into the mountains and wilderness where the terrain had never truly been mapped by man. Gretis had ridden a horse and brought a second steed to carry supplies, but Kota had asked to travel on foot, and she had allowed it. The days on the road had been a time of quiet introspection, but that was over now.
A cold wind was blowing softly against his skin, though he hardly noticed it. His eyes were fixed on the orange glow within the hut. Gretis was stoking the fire and pouring her concoctions into it. In only a few moments, the ceremony would begin. Kota’s blood was pumping hot in his veins. He was utterly terrified and utterly thrilled.
Gretis crawled out through the small opening very slowly, her hands crunching dead leaves on the ground beneath her. For once, her long hair was not tied back but fell in a wavy mane down her shoulders. She was clothed in a simple brown tunic and leather pants. All of her silver jewelry was gone, and her face was entirely unpainted. She had a wild look about her that he had never seen before.
"Are you nervous?" she said in a gentle voice.
"Yes," Kota whispered.
"That is good. There is no room for arrogance on the journey we are about to take."
"It will be a journey then?" Kota said, frowning a little. As usual, she had told him nothing. Three days of camp and travel and not a single secret of what was to come had spilled from her lips.
Gretis cast him a gentle smile and said: "It will be the truth."
"Always riddles," Kota muttered, his body giving a little shiver.
"That is the way it has always been done," she said with a soft laugh. "But I think tonight I must go beyond that just a bit." Her voice lost some of its humor as she said: "Before we go in there together, I must finally tell you about Soulic."
Kota felt his eyes widen. Gretis had never spoken of her son, even after the encounter in the forest. Kota gazed at the blade witch, years o
f cumulative curiosity welling up in his mind, and he almost smiled. The distraction from his fear was a welcome one.
Gretis sat down on the leaves, crossing her legs. She was not bothered by the cold or the dirt of the forest but was at peace with these things, much like a shamalak. "I must tell you a bit about my life before I began my study of Sansrit." Her lips curled into a wry smile as she said: "If you can possibly believe it, I was a princess once."
Kota felt his eyes widen once again. He stared at Lady Gretis, and she made a small giggle.
"I was a soft and spoiled girl. I suppose I was something of a beauty as well. Many princes and kings sought my hand, but my father was not quick to give me away." Gretis took in a slow breath, and her eyes lowered. "We do not have time for many details. My kingdom was very small and..." her throat seemed to tighten as she whispered: "the Denigoth Empire consumed small kingdoms quite aggressively back then. An army appeared at our borders, and in the span of less than a month, my home was destroyed, my parents and my brothers put to death, and I... became a prize to one of the men who had overseen it all."
Kota sat in silence, too shocked to speak.
Gretis was quiet for a moment, staring down into the leaves in front of her. Then she lifted her gaze and said: "In a short time I was pregnant... with Soulic. I believed then that I would live out the rest of my life as a slave and so would my child. All hope had escaped my heart." Gretis looked up at the stars. "My father had befriended an old Sansrit Master many years before. I was told he was present at my birth, but I had no memories of him. His name was Aldar, and he was a very old, very wise, and very kind man. When he learned what had happened to my family and my kingdom, he came. Aldar found me and managed to free me from my captors. He took me away and cared for me—helped me through my pregnancy. Over that time, he looked inside of my spirit as I did yours when we met. Aldar told me that I had the strength to become a great Sansrit Master, and he offered me a new life and a new purpose. He warned me though that I could not walk down that path with hatred in my heart." Gretis gave a dark laugh and picked up a dead leaf from the ground and peered at it. "Perhaps you cannot imagine the conundrum this was for me. Aldar would grant me the power to avenge my honor and the lives of my family upon that cruel commander and his men, but I had to forswear all vengeance to acquire the strength." She lifted her eyes to Kota's and said in a very serious voice: "A Sansrit Master wields terrible power, and that power comes from the deepest recesses of the spirit. If that part of you is tainted with hate, it can become an all-consuming curse."
"You managed to let go," Kota whispered.
"I did, though I cannot describe how difficult a thing that was. There are no laws in the Denigoth Empire against what that man did to me and to my family. To forswear my vengeance was to allow him to grow old in the comfort and wealth that was built upon the deaths of my parents and brothers and sisters." Gretis shut her eyes and whispered: "It was the most difficult trial of my life—more so even than the training itself."
She did not speak for a moment but remained still. Her fingers closed around the leaf she had been holding, crushing it as a whisper escaped her lips: "Soulic was not able to banish his hatred as I did. I might have helped him with it, but I did not understand its nature."
"Why did he hate?" Kota said.
A bitter smiled crossed Gretis's face. "He managed to get hold of a journal I kept—one that I thought was quite secret from him. I had told him a lie that his father was a young soldier who died in battle. I thought this best." She clenched her jaw and said: "perhaps the deception added a sense of betrayal to his anger. Whatever the case, he did not forswear vengeance. He planned to murder the man who violated his mother." She blinked and whispered: "I suppose in a way it was a noble sentiment—a simple love for me." Gretis cocked an eyebrow up at Kota and said: "Would you not want to avenge your mother?"
"I... I might," he admitted. Kota thought briefly of the mother he had left so long ago and found himself wondering if he was now as close to the human sitting before him as he had been to her.
Gretis straightened up, the emotion in her face fading to a sober and serious expression. "The path I am about to lead you down is not like that of the Onkai. Their power is external. It simply makes them physically stronger. The energy you shall know will come from deep within your heart, and once it is drawn out, you will have no ability to suppress it." Her eyes hardened, and she said: "My son is ruled by his anger. He cannot be reasoned with. I do not know if anything but death will ever free him, and so it will be with you, Kota, if you hold hatred, or jealousy, or any other dark emotion in your heart. So I ask you once again, and you must answer me truthfully, for there will be no going back once we begin: Do you hate the Nemesai who took you prisoner? Do you hate me for making you train twelve and thirteen hours in a day? Do you hate anyone?"
Kota hesitated for a moment as he considered all Gretis had told him, and then he felt a calm smile come over his face. "I thank you for trusting me with this truth, and I understand," he said. He reached out and took her hand, and his voice cracked just a touch as he said: "I could never hate you, Mother of Wisdom. I hold you in the deepest place in my heart. It is for you that I can be strong."
A pair of tears dropped out of Gretis's eyes, rolling quickly down her smooth face. She started to speak but then choked back, and she simply clutched Kota's fingers. Eventually, she gave him a very warm smile and said: "Then let us begin."
Gretis crawled into the hut and Kota followed. The small, round room they had constructed glowed from the light of the red fire embers in its center. The thick scent of burning wood and oil struck Kota hard as he sat down at the burning pit. He stared at his teacher as she knelt before the flames and reached into an animal skin rucksack. Gretis drew out a large clay jar and removed the thick cork at its top, revealing a black powder that had the faintest bluish glow to it. He watched her take a large pinch of the substance and sprinkled it over the embers, and immediately a thick white smoke hissed up.
"Do not be afraid to breathe this," she said in a soft voice.
Kota took an uneasy whiff of the white smoke through his nose and was surprised to find that it did not sting his nostrils the way normal smoke might. It felt clean and smooth, and he was able to draw it deep into his lungs.
"Yes," Gretis whispered as she drew another clay jar from her bag. "Close your eyes and breathe as I taught you."
Kota obeyed, placing his hands in his lap automatically in his normal meditative pose. He inhaled more of the strange white smoke, and then he heard the sound of the second jar being opened, and shortly after there was a second hiss from the fire pit. A new scent made itself known in the air, thick and chalky so that he could taste it on his tongue. It reminded him of roses and lilac. Kota concentrated on his breathing. He felt his heart begin to slow and the muscles in his body began to release all the little bits of tension coiled within them.
The sense of warmth and relaxation that always washed over Kota when he meditated came, but it was stronger than usual. His body pulsed with a delightful sensation of serenity. It was like being in the deepest and most relaxed sleep imaginable, only he was awake and alert. His ears twitched gently at the sound of Gretis putting more of her concoctions into the fire, and then more hisses of smoke permeated the air with new, strange scents.
The image of a warm and wonderful field of yellow light appeared in Kota's mind. It enveloped his form, and it pulsed and shifted with his slow breathing and the soft and distant beat of his heart. He felt Gretis take his hands in hers, and when she did, he perceived a second light, this one a shade of soft blue that mixed with his own. By some unknowable instinct, Kota sensed this was her—a part of her spirit that was touching a part of his. They were together. Whether he had been meditating for only a few moments or for many hours, he could not begin to guess. All he knew was that his consciousness was expanding in ways he had never imagined, and Gretis was there to guide him.
There came a tugging sensation, as if Gretis’s spirit were pulling against his, and then they were both soaring together. Kota did not see anything at first but only felt a sense of gliding movement. Slowly though, he began to see brilliant streaks of light all around the two of them, like hundreds upon hundreds of tiny stars of every color shooting past. And then they stopped, the sense of movement ceasing as abruptly as if they had slammed into a wall, yet he had felt no collision. There was a cool breeze on his skin and the sensation of soft, wet grass beneath his feet. The lights faded, and Kota saw that he was standing in the midst of a vast forest of rolling hills and trees that stretched high into a moonless, starless night sky.
Feeling disoriented yet strangely at peace, Kota gazed down at the claws on his toes. The grass beneath them shimmered softly, moving between opacity and translucence so that he could intermittently see through it into a blackness that matched the sky above.
"Where am I?" he said, and his voice echoed in liquid reverberation from a thousand different directions.
"You may think of this place as the spirit world," Gretis's voice answered in the same splashing echo. She appeared before him in a soft flash that began to fade immediately, but he saw her smile, and it gave him a small sense of reassurance amidst the impossibility of what he was seeing. "I have brought you as far as I can. You must go the rest of the way yourself."
The forest around him continued to shift slowly back and forth from being real and visceral to a shimmering mirage. Kota felt his feet sink into the grass. It gave in unexpected ways under him as if made of dough, and as he shifted his weight, he saw little ripples flow out.
"What am I doing here?" he said, gazing around at the ever-shifting, ever disappearing forest, trying to hold fast to any sense of reality.
"You must find your own answer to that question," she said in a whisper that hissed from all around. "I can give you no help now."
At that moment, Kota heard the sound of a deep, wet sniff that shifted into a loud exhalation of air that shook his very bones. It was the noises of a beast sniffing out its prey, but the pitch and volume told of a creature more massive than any Kota had ever encountered. He turned and gaped as a tremendous black silhouette moved behind the trees. It was larger than anything in the world—a mass of terrifying muscle that stood as tall as the Onkai temple. The creature was moving on four legs, and the pounding of its great paws sent shockwaves through the grass like waves in the ocean. The ground lifted Kota up and dropped him back down so that he had to dig the claws on his toes into it to keep from being thrown.
