“We need to get you stronger, first and foremost,” his father said. His piercing gaze swept across Selvin, through the bright haze of the campfire between them. They had left their village, said their goodbyes, nearly a week past.
“You are different from other Speakers,” he said. “Your path to great power will be both easier, and a thousand times harder, because of it.”
“I understand,” Selvin said eagerly. “Whatever it takes, dad. I won’t fail you.”
His father looked at him for a few more moments before smiling. “Come on. Shroud up. We’re going to spar.”
Giddily, Selvin obeyed. A chance to spar against his father was something he seldom received. Sometimes he worried that his father thought he was too weak, fragile, and if they fought at all, he would break in half.
“Speak your Name,” Father said calmly. “And fill your body with its strength. You are the son of Kulasain Anadren. You have innate power writ in your very blood, in the ephemeral energies that flow through your body and soul. A thousand years ago, your ancestor, bearing your name, challenged the very Gods of the world, and won. That is your legacy. Now manifest it!”
Closing his eyes, Selvin let his father’s words wash over him, soaking them and their meaning up like a dry sponge. It spread inside him, echoing within, until he thought he could see exactly what his father meant.
And then, Selvin spoke his Name. The World around him suddenly sharpened, as if it heard him speak, and heeded it.
Selvin gasped as he felt energy flowing into his body, from a thousand sources. And then he began to scream.
Because it burned.
“It hurts,” his father said eagerly, stepping closer in the darkness. “But that is the sign of strength, filling your body. Of your mind expanding. Of your connection to the primal powers of the world multiplying. Feed it, Selvin! Don’t retreat- feed. Look at your Shroud, child! It burns like the sun!”
Through his haze of agony, Selvin listened, turning his perception to his Shroud. And he realized his father was right- it was burning, like he was. Stunned, ignoring the pain for a moment, he watched as his Attributes all soared, reflecting his body, mind, and soul-
[My Shroud]
Strength: 6
Mind: 5
Heart: 6
Perception: 7
Elemental: 6
Cosmic: 4
Nameless: … 8
What was that nameless power, rising up in him? And why did it feel like the very heavens were channeling through him?
All this power at his very fingertips. And he had never known. Never could have drawn on it, until his father told him exactly what their legacy really was. The Anadren Bloodline.
And then Selvin burned out. His Shroud flickered away, and he collapsed to the ground. Effortlessly, his father caught him.
Selvin had never felt so weak. He felt as if a stray breeze would send him to Death’s doorstep, now.
“Incredible,” his father said softly. “Had I done this, at your age, at your level, I would’ve been burnt to ash. You… truly are my heir, son.
You truly are Born of Heaven.”
“Did,” Selvin choked out, coughing softly. “Did you really doubt me?” He smiled weakly.
“Never,” his father said immediately. “Not in a thousand years.”
Years. Two years passed, and Selvin stood, taller, broader of shoulder, staring down at the broken form of an enemy Speaker.
At his side, always, always at his side, stood his father, still immutable as always. He folded his arms, and spoke.
“Consume his Name. Make it your own, fold it into the Ancestral. This is how you begin the process of drawing upon it.”
“I understand,” Selvin said. He held out his hand to begin the process. Then hesitated. “But, father… is this wrong? Are we consuming his soul?”
“Souls,” his father said softly. He turned away, as if the question really did bother him. But when Selvin saw his face again, there was no doubt or hesitation. Only cold certainty. “I have never seen anything in this World, or any other, for that matter, to indicate that souls truly exist.”
Selvin opened his mouth to speak the obvious, but his father waved him away. “Oh, I know. I know. What of the Fourth Attribute? Well, I call it perception, and always have, and tell you to call it that, for a reason. Instead of the meaningless moniker… ‘soul.’ Because, really, it has little to do with souls. Soul. When we speak of souls, we really mean two different things, Selvin. We always have. We mean the Speaker soul- the well of power, the flow of energies, the metaphysical presence that we tap into and manipulate as Speaker Warriors- and then there is the human soul. And I assume, right now… the human soul is what you are concerned with.”
Selvin paused. “Yes. You… you think humans don’t have souls.”
His father looked down in silence. “I have never seen anything to the contrary. Forgive me if that is too bleak. But I would not hide the truth from you, in this.”
Selvin continued to stare down at the lifeless face before him, slowly draining of energy. “But… without a soul…” Selvin said, softly. “What comes… after? Once we die? What follows after?”
HIs father came over to him, laid a warm hand upon his shoulder. “I don’t concern myself with that. All that matters is what is right here and now, in front of you. That is your whole world, son. My whole world. And it always has been.”
Selvin finally nodded and began the process of destroying and consuming the substance of another’s being.
Another year passed.
“It is close, Selvin.” His father stood outlined in darkness, the heavens surrounding him in star light. “The Unnamed. In the manner of these things… I think we do not have more than two years left.”
“Such little time,” Selvin said softly. He turned the rich well of energy in the form of a fruit in his palms, idly draining it away to nothing. It tasted good.
“Yes,” his father agreed. But he came to Selvin, and his lined face was etched in a warm smile. “But do not fear, son. Never that. Not when we are so close. You and I… have come a long way, together, in so short a time.”
Father and son, alone under the heavens, flared their Shrouds as one.
[My Shroud]
Strength: 6
Mind: 5
Heart: 7
Perception: 5
Elemental: 4
Cosmic: 3
Nameless: …
Stolen novel; please report.
[Father’s Shroud]
Strength: 9
Mind: 10
Heart: 7
Perception: 8
Elemental: 5
Cosmic: 4
Nameless: …
His father grinned. “And now… With the Ancestral Name, Selvin, we push the very boundaries of this World. We push past them. Soon, nothing here will be enough for us. Nothing will be able to contain us.”
With the Name of their ancestors, Selvin would be able to attain ‘perfect’ numbers in several categories, easily. They had tested it in the field numerous times. Enemy Speakers were astounded, as sudden demigods descended among them. Beings they could not even scratch.
Of course, they were still not dominant. Still, after all this time, sometimes Selvin had to rest for a whole week after speaking the Name of the ancients. It ravaged his body like a plague, tore every muscle and bone, sapped his mind and spirit of latent energy and then some.
The true demigods of this world- the Highkings and Goddess-Queen, the Shadow Monarchs and Light Wretches, had power equal to them, and then some. With the Name burning, Selvin and his father could go toe-to-toe with them. For a time. But stamina was not on their side. And these beings had been here for centuries- sometimes millennia. Not only were their energy reserves nearly infinite, but their honing of technique, skill, and practice were unmatched.
Father said it would be that way for only a little longer. That he had another plan, to take them to the next level. And once they surpassed the demigods and consumed their power, they would be a match for the Nameless Hordes.
And as for the Unnamed itself… well, that was a problem for another day. It was still, blissfully, contained. For now. All they had to do was contest with a shadow of its true power. And that, his father assured him, they could do.
“Now what?” Selvin asked.
“We knock on heaven’s door. The sentries and warriors of the Highkings, and the Highkings themselves, will be sufficient to raising your best Attributes- strength, mind, and heart. As we defeat them, and consume them, we will steadily advance through Alteria, until we arrive at the Dawn Capital. And the Queen will be waiting for us. Expecting challengers, usurpers. Someone to cast her down from her long-lived throne, finally. The fear of the ancients- the petty, dismal clinging to… power.”
“Power,” his father sneered silently. “They don’t have a damn clue what that really is.”
“What they don’t know,” Selvin said, quietly, “is that our sights are set far higher than them and their dirty little thrones. We couldn’t care less for their… stations. What we want is their raw power.”
His father laughed, pulled him into a hug. “I couldn’t have said it better myself, son.” The jovial tone lessened, and he looked into Selvin’s eyes, nearly nose to nose. “I’m so proud of you, Selvin. Do you know that?”
Selvin smiled. “Of course.”
His fathered nodded, stepped away. “Last leg of the journey. Let’s do it.”
One year until the Doom of Elcasia.
Selvin punched the Queen’s ribs. Force ravaged the World around them, sending hurricane-force winds for miles around, blowing buildings and structures in the Queen’s Dawn Capital to dust and rubble. A small part of him cast out sorrow, hoping that nobody had been in those buildings. But he ignored it to focus on the fight before him.
Queen Elestra’s Shroud burned.
[Queen’s Shroud]
Strength: Surpassed
Mind: 10
Heart: 10
Perception: 9
Elemental: Surpassed
Cosmic: 9
Nameless: Empty
She took the blow without a grimace, or even a grunt. And she stared down at him with contempt- and faster than Selvin could react, a burning line of fire raced down and lashed his face, shuddering his very bones with the strength of it.
He was thrown to the ground, and realized soon after that he couldn’t move.
Above him, his father shouted out as he finally revealed their trump card: the Name. The Name.
The Queen readied a whirlwind, a cyclone, of ice and fire, filling the skies of her courtyard and capital. Her Elemental Attribute suddenly burned in her Shroud brighter than any other. All aimed at his father.
Selvin, helpless from the ground, watched as his father did battle.
A blur of motion and power, his father raced through the cyclone, dodging ice sharpened to a sword point and great arcs of fire that could torch flesh in a nanosecond. The distance between them was closed in an instant.
And his father exchanged blows with the Queen of Alteria, whom some named the Queen of Elcasia itself. The whole World.
And their blows shook the whole World. Strike for strike, fist for fist, his father met the demigod. Selvin formed a haze of power with his Shroud to prevent himself from being destroyed, for being so near their struggle.
Selvin could not keep up with the fight. He was not sure he could even if he were not wounded and nearly empty of energy. In the distance, the remaining Highkings were arriving to aid their Queen. Too late.
Once they had her power, they would smite the pitiful Kings like dust on the wind.
His father stepped once, twice, smoothly, easily dodging two blows. And then rammed his unhampered fist through her torso, right above the navel.
The Queen’s flurry of motion and energy halted as suddenly as a pinned insect. And she sagged on father’s arm, collapsing to the ground. She was so tall that, even kneeling, she towered over father.
But he stared up at her with cold fire burning in his eyes.
He removed his arm, and let her collapse to the ground. He appeared at Selvin’s side a moment later, pouring power from his own Heart Attribute to replenish Selvin’s own, reknitting his flesh and spirit from the beating it had taken. “You did good. Very good. And now, we’ve won. On your feet, son. We’re splitting her Name two ways.”
Selvin, laughing unsteadily, staggered to his father’s side, leaning against him. They crossed the smooth stones of the courtyard together, limping towards the fallen Queen.
When they were but a dozen feet away, something changed.
“He knew you’d come,” Elestra said softly from the ground, in her sonorous voice. “I should’ve listened.”
His father froze. “Who?”
She spoke a name, and the blood drained from his father’s face. And his father spoke the Ancestral Name a second time- something he never did. Selvin’s heart plummeted like a stone.
A power suddenly descended from the skies, and the World’s very essence burned with it. The heavens turned to pitch black.
And not even a star whimpered in that sudden silence, in that terrible void.
“Run, Selvin,” his father hissed at him. “Run! We cannot fight this. I’ll hold it off, you have to-”
A spear of burning darkness arced down from the heavens, like a thunder bolt, and took father in the chest.
“You… fucking… coward.” His father grated out, even as he laced his hand with his golden energy and removed the bolt from his chest, knitting the wound instantly, and he dodged another. “You allied… with it. With the ANATHEMA!” his voice shook the heavens for its fury. Moved the blackened expanse above him a single inch. Just one inch.
“Only way…” Elestra muttered. “Only way… to save… the Dawn.”
His father fought for several minutes. Beautifully, desperately, he fought. But Selvin knew the outcome from the beginning. His father had already spoken the Name, used up its power, in the fight with Elestra. And now, against this… this creature, overwhelming the skies, that Selvin could barely bear to look upon- that was what had come.
His father was going to die. Selvin tried to rise, but… something gripped his soul tightly. Fear. Dread. Terrible, terrible dread.
Helpless, racked with terror, his own heart lashing at him, Selvin watched as the creature, the nameless creature, suddenly leaped down and pierced his father’s chest with claws of burning night. Wounds his father could not heal from, he knew. Empty voids in the place of healthy flesh and blood.
The last of his father’s energy drained, and he collapsed.
Remember your place, the creature said, suddenly at Elestra’s side. Do not bother us again. Or we may rescind our previous agreement.
And with that, it leaped back into the skies it had descended from. And the aura finally vanished. Selvin felt he could breathe again.
With the sudden reprieve, Selvin managed to rise, and staggered to his father’s side, falling to his knees beside him.
Selvin flowed his Heart energy over his father’s chest. He might as well have not bothered. The void hungrily consumed his power, and let none of it heal the ruined flesh.
“Listen to me, son,” his father gasped out, voice distant and weak. “Please, listen to me. Hold your grief for but a moment, and listen. Aiena… the Named God- he is dead. And his death has allowed the Unnamed to weaken the Barrier around creation... and begin to influence it. Directly.
You… must… find the Name… the hallowed Name, the Name above all others. The Name of Aiena. Please, son. It is the only way. The only way to defeat… it.
It must be you, son. You. Selvin, of the Nameless Bloodline. Of the Anadren as well. Only you can do what cannot be done. Do you understand? If any of these others- the fools, the tyrants, and the lost- get their hands on it… all is over. Elcasia will fall. And after it falls… the rest of the Named Places shall follow after.
I trust you. I leave this mission… this duty… in good hands.”
Selvin clung to his father’s hands. “I won’t fail you,” he said softly. “But… how? How do I do it?”
“I’ve shown you as much as I can,” his father whispered. “For now. When the time comes… here, in my pocket. Take this. It will guide you the rest of the way. Not now! Not now. It will destroy you to learn of it now. But when the time comes… I trust you, Selvin. I trust you more than my own… blood. The Nameless… Blood.”
And then his father died in Selvin’s arms.
Alone, Elestra dying beside Selvin, and his father dead in his arms. The heavens empty now, even removed from that sea of endless black that had filled all of creation.
Holding his father, Selvin wept. For the first time in his life.
And the last time.