Chapter Twenty One.

I have become uncomfortably familiar with the feeling of helplessness since my death. Events outside my control, entities beyond my comprehension, forces beyond my strength to resist. Never have I felt so… enraged about it as I do now.

I have been afraid, been angry, sad, and depressed. These are things I’ve felt before in my life, like everyone else. But there is something different about this time. This time… I hate.

We use that word a lot, casually. ‘I hate this food’ or ‘I hate this place ' or even ‘I hate you!’ when we’re upset. My memories of those emotions just feel… so inadequate compared to the thing burning in me right now. It does not abate, it does not cool. It screams at every despair-laden recollection of my failure and howls through the fleeting glimpses of consciousness I can manage.

I will find you, Dezzahn. And I. Will. Kill. You.

The water rushed by me, pulling me deeper and deeper with torrential force. It felt like days of endless pressure, shoving me down an oddly regular tube. I had tried to resist at first, tried to form claws and tendrils to halt my momentum and drag my way back up. I could remember the feeling—remember how everything had worked. Even remembered how I’d evolved in the first place!

It didn’t matter. Like I’d lost a limb, the ability was just gone, and no amount of ‘remembering’ could suddenly make it come back. My body felt… hollow. Incomplete. Some essential piece was now missing and without it, I could barely manage to condense myself enough that the current wouldn’t just rip me apart.

Magic was equally useless—even if it wasn’t for my weakened condition, trying to fight the force of the water around me felt like trying to hold back the tide with my bare hands. Destruction gave me a microsecond of space before the volume of water completely depleted my mana reserves, knocking me unconscious. So after hours of clawing and fighting the inevitable, I gave up.

Hours passed in a daze, no light, no change, just rushing water. I would have felt claustrophobic if I’d had the energy to pay attention.

The tube ended so suddenly I didn't even realize it had happened for a few seconds. One moment there was the unstoppable roar of fluid motion, the next was utter calm. A harsh light snapped onto me from the side of the tube before a loud two-tone buzzer rang out. I barely had time to feel confused before the familiar static sensation of pure destruction magic washed over me.

Did something just try to 'delete' me?

The same harsh glare returned, and after a brief pause, it repeated the tone from before. There was a rumbling sound and I felt the tube around me shift over, the stretch in front of me cut off for a moment before it aligned with an entirely new tube.

Wha—*BOOM*

I was blasted forwards as if I'd been shot out of a cannon. Like a living bullet, I exited the tube into a vast open space, the wind screaming around me almost as loud as I was. I assumed it was massive because despite my ridiculous velocity I didn't hit anything for a while. With an oof I plowed into something surprisingly soft, kicking up billowing clouds of material and sending me ricocheting off in the distance. I bounced a few more times before coming to a stop with a loud *thunk*, spinning haphazardly in place for a few seconds until—for the first time in several days—I was still.

Trembling with exhaustion, I relaxed my (very limited) morph from keeping me as a semi-solid ball and let myself flow back into a liquid. The feeling was amazing, like a cramp I’d had for days just fading away. I don’t know if a puddle can bruise, but I sure felt battered to hell and back after everything that happened.

A wave of dark emotion came over me as I recalled the events leading to my being here, guilt warring with anger to see which could make me the most miserable. But just as I was starting to give in to the onrushing wave of despair…

*poke*

“Hmm… You are not soup.”

Gah!

Panicked, I flopped around blindly for a moment before blasting out with [Law]. Wicked spiderwebs of pure destruction lashed at the air around me, striking everything nearby and doing… nothing.

“OooOOhh! Angry Not-Soup!”

The voice was decidedly odd. It had an almost cartoony quality to it, almost like Yoda but if he’d ever remembered to clear his throat. Expanding my domain let me ‘see’ the voice’s origin, and my aura formed into black tendrils and whipped in front of me aggressively, trying to keep whatever it was back. Towering over me at nearly three meters tall was a gangly creature, roughly humanoid but with four arms instead of two. The skin was a bizarre glossy black with protruding joints that had me confused until I realized it was an exoskeleton. Its head was tall and conical, with the only distinguishable features being a pair of oversized eyes and what looked like a short trunk curled up directly beneath them obscuring anything else.

Why does this thing look familiar?

A vague feeling of familiarity chewed at the back of my mind as I observed the thing. I flinched backward and almost lashed out defensively when it moved its arms, but I stopped when it merely spread them in a placating gesture.

“[Peace], little Not-Soup. This place is not [Sanctuary], but you will not find harm from me.”

Sanctuary! That’s why it looks familiar! The creature was a living specimen of the fossilized beings who’d created the Sanctuary Veris and I had explored. And the words… when it had said [Peace], it felt binding somehow. The aura of calm projected was similar to how the Sanctuary had forbidden violence but gentler. An assurance of safety should I stay, but not the outright restriction of before. It also explained why attacking with my aura did basically nothing. What was my manipulation of natural law compared to the people who’d permanently made violence illegal and the universe just gave a quick thumbs-up?

The will to fight drained out of me, and [Law] left with it. The creature scooted forward curiously but sat down cross-legged just outside of arm’s reach. It seemed content to stare for now so I took the time to observe my surroundings—as much as I could, anyway.

I’d fallen into a small room, made from the same conspicuously-worked stone as the Sanctuary. Back on earth people would have called it a studio apartment, except all the furnishings seemed to be made directly from the stone of the walls. Somehow I’d managed to fall through a perfectly sized hole in the ceiling; falling into a simple stone bowl sitting on a countertop.

The bizarre normalness of the apartment combined with my ‘unique’ entry had me spinning in confusion.

How did I get in here? What is this place?

“That is easy! I knew something was coming today. It would fall here—” It pointed at the bowl I was sitting in.”—And be very runny. I hoped it would be soup, but Not-Soup is ok too.” It smiled at me, the expression somehow still working despite the tentacles curled into a trunk on its face.

I was a little freaked out it could read my thoughts, but it waved its hands hurriedly in the next moment.

“Not thoughts, possibilities. In some, you talk already! Thoughts hard, scattered like ash in wind but tangled like dirty old web. Possibilities easy! Some things always happen—” It gestured broadly to indicate my falling through the roof. “—and some things maybe happen. Soup today was very, very maybe, but hope is always good.” Nodding sagely to itself, the thing paused before continuing.

“And this place is my home! You are welcome to stay, Not-Soup. Not much company here, and friends are almost as good as soup. But if you need to go, I will help you if I can!”

Staring suspiciously, I couldn’t bring myself to trust the thing—despite its seemingly friendly personality. Dezzahn was still too fresh in my mind, even the thought of him had me flinching away from the jagged edges of the mental wounds he’d left. I wasn’t sure this—person?—was out to hurt me but I didn’t have time to make friends. My [Blightlings] needed me right now. I had no idea where I was or how far away I’d gone, but if I was going to save them then I couldn’t be wasting time with some kooky squid-bug.

Dismissing the creature, I tried to get out of the bowl… and failed. The sides were just a bit too tall and just a hair too steep for my limited abilities. The bowl was heavy, and my increasingly frustrated movements barely even nudged it. A light cough sounded out from my host.

“Um… Is Not-Soup ok? Why does it not use shaping? I saw the magic... Maybe is trying to exercise, make up for injury?”

How does it—nevermind. Shaping?

Ceasing my futile struggle I peered exasperatedly at the creature, trying to convey through will alone that I was stuck in the stupid bowl. Seemingly oblivious, it only stared back at me encouragingly and started to hum a jaunty tune to itself. Then—in the most blatantly obvious non-subtlety I’d ever seen—the creature reached out and nonchalantly picked up a large spoon close to my bowl. At first, I freaked out a bit thinking it was going to try to eat me, but instead, I watched in growing fascination as the spoon liquified around the thing’s fingers. Floating in the air the former spoon made a dizzying series of convoluted twists and turns, contorting itself into a myriad of artful shapes as it bent around my host’s fingers.

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It cleared its throat again and hummed louder before I picked up that it was trying to show me something with this display. Shaping, huh? I reached out with my aura to observe what was happening and couldn’t help freezing in shock. I thought I’d been getting pretty good at using my domain to affect the world around me, but this was a whole different level. It felt like I was a kindergarten finger painter who suddenly had his work compared side-by-side with Michaelangelo—the immense difference in skill was obvious. And it was beautiful.

I know it sounds weird to say about a guy liquifying a spoon and floating it around, but the way the laws just worked with it was incredible. There was no force, no need to coerce obedience. It was every bit as gentle as the earlier offer of [Peace], and yet the universe practically leapt to obey.

My domain picked up something else as I was frantically trying to memorize the creature's actions. There was no sound. The humming tune I was hearing wasn’t coming from the creature, it was independently manifesting from the air. This thing was literally showing me how to talk and get out of my current predicament all through a series of casual gestures. It was… humbling. And frustrating.

With an effort of will, I focused my aura onto the bowl trapping me. Under my (admittedly less graceful) manipulations, the bowl quickly started to melt around me and flowed out like a candle left in the sun. As soon as I’d finished freeing myself I heard a loud clapping from the creature.

“Good! Very good! Not-Soup is fast learner, much smarter than I thought it was.”

I stumbled a bit at the backhanded compliment. Well, you’re not exactly Einstein either. Controlling my temper I tried to mimic its ability to speak with [Law]. It was surprisingly easy to grasp, now that I’d seen an actual demonstration.

“Uh… Thanks, I guess.” I froze up the moment the words sounded out from the air. My voice! That’s my voice! I couldn’t remember ever being so happy just to hear myself talk. Excitement bubbled up in my mind… and fizzled out weakly. A few days ago the thought of getting my normal voice back would’ve probably brought me to tears. Now I wasn’t even able to cry if I wanted to.

“Couldn’t you have just helped me get out of the bowl?” I asked, resignedly.

“Mmhmm, yes, I could. But next time Not-Soup is stuck in a bowl, then what? Maybe no one is there to help, how will you escape? Be sad if you die because you got stuck in a bowl. Experience is best teacher, and lesson you figure out yourself sticks with you longest.” It nodded happily but deflated before continuing. “But not always the time for lessons, sometimes help is needed. Not good to try and make lesson about flying while hanging from a cliff. Sometimes the teacher gets lesson too!”

I couldn’t help but snort at that, a chuckle escaping almost unwillingly at the creature’s antics.

“Fair enough.” I said, then asked, “By the way ‘teacher’, what do I call you?”

“Ahh… sorry, long time since I shared names with other world-speakers. My name is—” And then there was a brief… pulse, from the creature. It resonated with the surrounding laws, bending and flexing the fabric of reality around us in a way that tickled the back of my memory. This feels just like when I opened the lock on the Sanctuary! After a moment the pulse cleared, and the creature stared at me expectantly.

Hesitantly, I did my best to repeat the pulse with [Law]. I’m not sure how well I did but it seemed to satisfy my host, who started chuckling after I finished.

“Not bad, Not-Soup. But easier to call me Murgui. Was given that name by very old friend, who could not speak the laws like us.”

Oh, thank God. I had no idea how I was gonna have a conversation if I had to do that every time I wanted to say its name.

“Thank you, Murgui. My name’s R—” Flinching back, I chastised myself for trying to use my old name as it caused a spike of pain to jab through my soul. “—Kosimar. I appreciate the lessons but I really need to go, there’s somebody after me and he has my friends. He could be on his way here right now.”

Much as I wasn’t up for making friends right now, that didn’t mean I was ok with getting somebody killed by my carelessness. Murgui merely waved his hands placatingly.

“The Corruptor will not come to this place, Kos-i-mar. Powerful he is, but not stupid.”

“How did you know—” I started, shocked.

“Possibilities, friend Kosimar. And I know essence of the Corruptor—thought you might be part of it at first.” It shook its head slowly. “But no, just touched by it. Taint is strong from him—hard to get rid of. Looks like he took back most already though.”

“Took back?! He stole my powers! Took away my f… my family.” Even using [Law] to speak, my voice quaked with raw emotion. Murgui only smiled sadly at me.

“No little friend, Corruptor only takes back what is his. Is how he works—seeds his power far, lets it grow, then comes to take. He does this many, many times now.”

At this point, I was so emotionally numb that I just couldn’t bring myself to feel any more despair.

“And my family?”

Murgui shook its head again.

“Can’t know for sure. If the Corruptor has use for them, then he will keep them. If not…”

I broke down at that. The little guys had gone from my somewhat simple-minded minions to my friends, to family while I wasn’t paying attention. They’d snuck their monstrous forms into my heart somehow, and pain coursed through me at the thought of them suffering—or worse—at Dezzahn’s hands. I melted fully into my puddle form and just laid there for a bit until a small spark of determination lit up in me.

I have had enough.

Forcibly smothering my despair, I turned back to Murgui.

“You said the Corruptor won’t come here, why? What’s he afraid of?”

If I can just figure out his weakness…

“This place is in the heart-ward. Builders made powerful security here, and he is too strong to hide. If he comes here then *zap*!” An arc of lightning-sparked between Murgui’s fingers for emphasis.

That’s perfect. Now, where am I?

“The ‘heart-ward’? Where on Haven are we right now?” I asked.

The creature cocked its head in apparent confusion. “Haven?”

Crap, there’s no way this thing keeps up with current names on the surface. I gave it a quick rundown on what I’d meant by ‘Haven’, mostly just reciting Veris’s old lecture on the translated Achoran name. When I finished, Murgui broke out into a fit of giggles.

“Hehehehehe! Is really wrong, you know? Difference small, but very important.”

“What do you mean?” I asked curiously.

“I will show you. But first, you must be able to see.”

My confusion grew and I barely resisted repeating my last question. Murgui stood and with a gesture the ruined bowl liquified and flowed up to his hands. In a few moments, he was holding two balls of stone in the air.

“You use world-speak to change laws. Someone taught you a little but stopped. Your learning is good, but some bad lessons learned. Is ok, we fix!” The ball floating on the left shrank and began glowing softly. The one on the right expanded and grew hollow. Holding up the hollow orb, he started speaking.

“This ball your aura. Inside, you see everything”

I nodded to myself, keenly aware of how my domain gave me a molecular-level scan of my surroundings. Murgui then held up the glowing sphere before placing it inside the hollow one.

“This is you, your essence, your sight. Can make aura bigger to see more—” He made the hollow sphere bigger. “—and change the shape, but still is limited. Too much magic to grow too big, yes?”

As a student, I recognized a teacher laying a trap question in front of me. I still agreed with it, but cautiously. Murgui grinned at me.

“Problem is not shape, or size, or power. Problem is perception. You make your aura a wall—blinding, saying this is mine and that is not— when it should be a window.” The hollow sphere in his hand suddenly became transparent, with the soft glow of the inner sphere now shining throughout the room.

Like a lightbulb flicked on in my brain, his words clicked. It wasn’t something I think I’d ever have noticed so long as I had eyes—even proxy eyes through my minions. But Murgui was exactly right. I could feel the boundary line of my aura shutting out everything beyond my power’s reach. Could it really be that simple? Only one way to find out.

My will flexed, and light immediately seared my senses. For a split second, I writhed in pain before blessed relief came in the form of an opaque bubble forming around me, pushing my aura inside and forcibly containing it.

“Too much window, friend Kosimar. Little less, ok?”

I grumbled internally but did my best to dial things back. Little warning would have been nice! ‘Oh yeah, don’t open up too much or you’ll laser yourself.’ When Murgui dropped the bubble I braced myself for more pain, but nothing came. Instead, I could see.

Better than I ever had before, the only thing better I’d ever experienced was the dizzying array of Spook’s senses. The world just leapt out to me, everything jumping into almost startling detail as the light that touched my aura was perfectly conveyed to my mind.

“Now that you are not blind little Not-Soup in a bowl, I can show you why ‘Haven’ is wrong.”

Gesturing for me to follow, Murgui stood and quickly left the room. I rolled my way along after him, trying futilely to accept the deluge of new information coming at me from my opened aura. Abruptly he stopped, and with a wave of his hand, the walls around us fell away. The sight they revealed was petrifying.

A sea of ash spread out around us, broken up only by immense solitary towers stretching up like needles kilometers in the distance. At first, I was confused and certain my new sight was tricking me because there was no horizon. The ground curved up. Curving upwards around us I realized we were standing on the inside plane of a sphere that must have been thousands of kilometers across. Floating suspended in the sky above us was another sphere. Dark and ominous but radiating a subtle glow, my new vision showed it was made up of a series of overlapping and interlocking hexagons. I remembered then the words Veris had once spoken to me.

“The best possible shape for a ward is in fact… the Hexagon...”

“You understand now, yes friend Kosimar? Name doesn’t mean ‘warded’. It means ‘to ward’!”

And unfortunately, I did understand. This place wasn’t a ‘Haven’, the whole planet was a construct. Built to seal in something awful. The sphere above me slowly rotated, exposing a twisted mass of reality-bending darkness that branched out like cancerous thorns from one side of the sphere.

And whatever this place was built to seal… it was getting out.