084 - Resonance

. . . .

. . .

. .

.

Well. That's that then.

Dead.

Dead. Dead. Dead.

Still . . no beat, no pulse . . It's been a while since I've seen myself like this, hasn't it?

Magnus floated a few inches away from his corpse, a solid strand of red-gold connecting his ghostly navel to his body.

Bloody hells . . . maybe I ought to have stayed in that grave, never bothered crawling out at all . .

Don't be like Magnus me old chum! Come on now, get yourself up! Up and at 'em! Come on!

Hob?

Who else? Right-o Magnus, don't be a lay-a-bout! Go on! Give your strand of Vigour a little tug, you know how it goes.

Aye, I know, I know. But . . ah hells . . it's gonna hurt, ain't it? I mean . . look at it!

Magnus' body lay twisted in a heap, through his chest was pierced a short curved sword - flesh mangled, the sword stabbed all the way through again and again - a right mess of broken bones, his heart and lungs chopped and diced and pierced . . .

Around him the whole world had faded - a familiar white mist descending and filling the world with a treacle like consistency.

If I come back to that, won't I just die again? Hey? Where are you Hob?

Me? I'm right here!

Magnus looked around the dim lit cave. Apart from a spider busy spinning a web between the split halves of the boulder there was no other living creature, ghostly twin or otherwise.

Nah . . right here - in you of course!

So . . like a voice in me head? Am I just talking to myself?

More or less, more or less . . but try not to do it aloud, people might think it a little odd. Anyways . .

Anyways . . yes?

Yeah . . this might be a bit of a tricky situation. Wait a tick, are you an idiot or what?

What?

I mean, are we idiots or what? The Vigour, Magnus! Your strands - hells, think about it!

Ah! Ah, of course!

So bloody obvious! Even being dead Magnus retained a fair grasp over the strands of Vigour, feeling them flowing in his ghostly body. What is this? A little different to the Ether . . if he had experience in anything in his life, Magnus had a fair bit more experience than most in being dead.

In Kloster, killed by Festus and buried . . kicked to death by the side of the road by those soldiers . . killed by the Alchemist in the Empire Swamp, and again - falling into the swamp, I was dead then, wasn't I?

Even Kujata stomped me to death . . ah hells, there are probably a few I've forgotten, ain't I?

One or two. Fighting Min and Soo - your heart stopped then too, that counts. Nothing to it Magnus, gets easier every time, right?

Right . . right.

It was the work of a moment to control a strand of Vigour to his chest and being the process of knitting his flesh back together. Fast - much faster than he'd expected - his heart began to reform, beating weakly within his mangled chest. His ribs and lungs pulled themselves together, the skin neatly forming back over and around the short sword, buried up to the hilt. In a matter of minutes it was as if he'd never been stabbed at all . . well, except for the bloody sword still sticking through his chest!

Magnus blinked open his eyes, the dingy cave slowly coming into focus. The boulder he'd placed at the opening was cut in two halves, the formations he'd set had tens of cuts - the lines entirely broken. On the ground around him was all manner of blood and filth - putrid pus and flecks of black skin, same as what he had shed under the golden light in the Ether.

As soon as he had returned to his body Magnus felt a stir within his chest, a grind of metal against bone. The Heart Sword! It's curse was still very much in effect! The blade sawed back and forth trying to free itself to stab once more.

Quick! Yank it out of there!

Magnus grasped the sword, in a single forceful motion tearing it from his chest.

"ARRRRGGHHH!"

A burst of fresh blood - Magnus forced the Heart Sword out from his chest, immediately spitting out a mouthful of blood, his chest healing over.

The sword struggled in his grasp, its point stabbing towards his chest fiercely. It felt like a weak kitten in his hands, Magnus was easily able to hold it in place . . but the second he let go he knew it would fly up and stab right into his heart again.

What do I do? I can't outrun it, can't destroy it . . the Heartsword Curse really is one of the most troublesome of the Martial Court forbidden techniques. Having now absorbed Sung Hu, Magnus' understanding of the technique increased by leaps and bounds. The Heart Sword came from the same book of forbidden technique as Flames of the Soul, both requiring the life of the cultivator in their execution.

Terrifying . . but ultimately futile against him. The Flames of the Soul couldn't pass his thread, the Heart Sword could never truly kill him - only provide a constant nuisance . . ways to deal with it . .ways to break the curse . . hmm . .

In his memories there now arose a total of seventeen ways of breaking or dispelling the curse. Unfortunately most of them required either rare alchemical materials, potions, or access to formation rooms available only in the Segye Palace or in the Revolving Tower. No good . . no good at all.

What else is there? A temporary measure? No good breaking the blade or burying it . . what about . .

What about Dong-Geun! Gods! He was alive, in the forest! I've got to get back to the Ether!

Ah haha! Don't worry Magnus! . . . you needn't worry too much about that. I mean, how long do you think you've been out of commission?

What do you mean Hob? How long I've been dead? It . . it can't have been long, right?

. . .

A couple of hours?

. . .

A couple of days?

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Try a bit longer . .

A week?

A bit more than that Magnus . .

How much more? Tell me!

More like two hundred years.

Magnus' mind went blank in shock. Two hundred years! Rolf! Festus! Kujata! The plan! The Alchemists! Two hundred years! What in the seven hells . . .

Ahahahaha hah hahaha!

Two hundred years Hob! What am I meant to do now? Why are you laughing? Dammit Hob, this is bloody serious . . what about Rolf? I . . . I . .

Ah hah ha . . . relax . . chill . . come on, I didn't mean it. Take it easy, I'm only messing with ya. It hasn't been that long.

How long then? Please Hob . .

Only a few of hours. Ahaha . . your face . .

. . .

Ahaha . . . ok . . alright, enough. It was only a little joke Magnus, no need to sulk.

. . .

Anyway, don't worry about the little Prince - there ain't no way he can escape from the Ether by himself. Focus on the task at hand - get that bloody sword under control, then we can worry about Dong-Geun and the rest.

Magnus fell into a sullen silence, ignoring Hobs every attempt a reconciliation. For half a day Magnus considered the possible methods of dealing with the Heart Sword, his mind adrift through the memories of Sung Hu and Pontius, exploring every nook and cranny of their experiences.

As he searched through their minds, focusing on a solution for the Heart Sword, his understanding of the world, of the universe, grew by leaps and bounds. The world he was on - his grasp of language, of formations and sigils - several lifetimes worth of experience now lived in him, lived through him.

Not like with Sung Soo, not as an overbearing and confusing mess that interfered with his own mind and memories, no - now they all slept, a living library that he could explore - all laid out in neat rows .

Hob followed him, silent, letting Magnus chase a thought to its conclusion, exploring long months and years worth of living time. In Magnus they all slept, their dreams, their needs, their wants - all that was, all that once lived still dreamed - still slept within him . . .

Day turned to night and back to day . . still Magnus sat within the messy cave, the Heart Sword struggling helplessly in his grasp.

***

Orpheus sat on his cloud, Kujata on the ash-grey grass - both watching the white mist churning around the trees, hearing the screams and explosions that accompanied flashes of blue and gold. After the seven led by Pontius had entered into the forest they it was as if they had entered into another world - Kujata could hear and see, but in no way sense their life - it was as if the forest were a living world within the Ether.

Impossible . . impossible . . Kujata sighed. With Magnus there had been too many times she'd thought something impossible - in the end she thought only to accept what was before her. The pillar of gold, Gnosis . . these were things entirely outside of her sphere of understanding - even with all the accumulated knowledge and memories from thousands of years the most Kujata knew was what Orpheus revealed to her.

Orpheus! The Poet!

Even his name sent chills up her spine . . the poet . . one of the great enemies of Celestials!

"It is over." Orpheus intoned from up high. "He is no longer in the Ether."

"What do you mean?" Kujata looked over in confusion. "How can he no longer be in the Ether? Look, the forest is still there!"

"Yes . . and it will always be. The forest and the mist is now a part of the Ether, it isn't like your city Celestial, it isn't like anything you Celestials . ." Orpheus sighed, Kujata felt a deep sense of exhaustion from his words. "It isn't like before. I can feel your terror Celestial, I can feel the fear . . hah . . you are right to be afraid."

". . . "

"The war was over ten thousand years ago and your kind are still paying for it - you are still paying for it. Not all of us from old earth harbour as much resentment as El, not all of us still have as much hatred . ."

"Then . . then why not let us go? Please . . Poet . . my friends . . all of us, why? Why has this gone on so long!" Kujata clenched her teeth. Before the silver suited man she felt as powerless as a mortal. "It is enough! Surely, the Martial Courts, the Seers, even the Alchemists . ."

"Ha! Do you think it is up to me? I do not resent you as much, but do you think that equates with forgiveness? Do not forget the transgressions, the destruction you Celestials wrought!"

"What about Magnus? Should he too pay for the 'wrongs' of ten thousand years past? What of my disciples? What of all the Celestial hunted and imprisoned since then?"

Orpheus tapped his hand impatiently, snarling down "Right or wrong, justness and fairness enter into it not Celestial. Your kind brought this on itself - the chains forged in the past are not so easily shed! El will never forgive you, she will forever hunt you and your kind through all the stars, through all the planes of existence, until the last Celestial is caught on her web. Your disciples . . Magnus . ."

"So why bother saving us? Why bother hiding us from the Alchemists at all . . is this a game to you? You toy with us like a spider toying with a fly!"

"Ahaha . . maybe it is best to think of it as a game . . no . . no, that would be wrong. Think of it as repentance - my kindness to you, my whim - a chance at redemption, both for you and for me." Orpheus lowered his cloud over the mist covered forest, his words calm and measured. "This is your chance little Celestial - they know not where you are, know nothing about your little plan to free the others. This chance . . do not squander it."

The silver cloud and it's silver passenger blinked out of existence in the Ether leaving Kujata alone on the ash-grey grass next to the silent sleeping forest.

***