Chapter 63 That wasn’t me.
“Hey boss, did ya forget about me?” Phantom said from the other side of the roof of the Celestial Dawn.
Isaac raised an eyebrow in question. He had just sat down with Shamsha’s skull and was about to start diving into it. Kahtesh was back in one piece and curled up a few feet away from him. Lenna was halfway up the stairs as she had stopped her ascent at the sound of someone’s voice. “No? Is something wrong?” Isaac asked.
Phantom shook his head. “No. I just expected some kind of reprimand for joining the battle on the wall.” He explained.
“You joined the battle?” Isaac questioned. “Also, why does your voice sound weird?”
“Teach gave me this.” Phantom replied and tapped on the choker around his neck. “It changes my voice so no one will recognize me.”
Isaac nodded. “Alright, why did you join the battle?”
“It was payment for making sure G.M. didn’t get himself killed during a heroic last stand on the walls.” Phantom replied.
“G.M?” Isaac parroted in question.
“Guild Master. Some of the street kids that work with the guild have been calling him that.” Phantom explained.
Isaac nodded in understanding. “Did anyone recognize you?”
Phantom shook his head. “Not that I know of. I feel like it would have been better if I just kept my mouth shut about it.”
Lenna sighed and sat down on the top step with a clear view of both boys. “It was reckless but I understand.” She told him. “Just, be careful, alright.”
Phantom nodded. “Yes ma’am.” He replied with enough seriousness that she knew that he had heard and understood her and would take her advice into consideration in the future. She was also distinctly aware that her advice probably would not keep him from doing the same thing later. “So, what did I interrupt?”
“I was about to try and recreate the necromancer that caused our two day war against the undead.” Isaac explained. “Did you have anything to report?”
Phantom shook his head. “Not really. The slums are the slums but nothing incredibly heinous is going on that I can’t fix on my own. You are too high profile for some low-level criminals downtown. If anything huge comes up again, like with Duncan, I’ll let you know.”
Isaac nodded. “Thank you. Keep up the good work. We can head out again in a day or so if you want.” He offered Phantom.
Phantom shook his head. “I think I can fight any small and weak enemies perfectly fine. I need to fight some real monsters. Like basilisks or mushroom soldiers. Next time you are going to come across something like that it would be great if I could tag along.” Phantom requested. “Can I watch?”
Isaac shrugged. “I’ll think about it, and yes, as long as you stay quiet. I am used to an audience when I am up here. I’m never sure where I am being watched from but I know they are out there.” He said and glanced around at all of the buildings tall enough to get a look at their rooftop, there weren’t many.
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“Is it a good thing that I have my mask on?” Phantom asked warily.
Isaac nodded. “Probably. It is a lot harder for them to follow us whenever we meet up with you in the slums. The disappearing act we do every time has always worked, at least for a little while.” He finished explaining and shifted his position slightly. Isaac took a deep breath and then let it out slowly as he started to work his mana into the skull that was nestled between his hands on his lap.
—
Shamsha had finally finished it. He looked across the room at the corpse of his mother. The conflicting feelings revolving around the woman warred within him. On one hand, he had truly loved her. On the other, he knew that he had always been a replacement for his older sister who was stillborn. He sighed and then chuckled at what he had just done. Soon sighing would be a thing of the past. His gaze swept over the massive ritual painted in the blood of his family members, not all of them of course, just the ones with a direct blood connection to himself. His older brother, mother, and father. It had been gruesome business, keeping them alive so they could keep producing blood until he had enough for the ritual. Once it was done, he had trapped their souls inside enchanted diamonds just like a devil had taught him to. Finally, everything was ready.
“SOO-” He cut himself off with a wince. He had tried to speak using magic again but the volume was always hard for him to control. “Soon this will be my voice and I will be truly immortal.” He had been repeating the phrase for days like a mantra. With one final look around the ritual, and the odd crystal he had traded a murderer’s soul for from a devil, he took his place in the middle of the pentagram of blood.
“This had better work.” He whispered with his real voice. He glanced at the rune he had cast that would cast resurrection on him if he stayed dead for more than an hour. He took one last deep breath. “Offero corpus meum et promitto animam meam sempiternam diabolo Asmongoldo pro potentia inmortuorum eternorum. Libenter hoc facio et pura mente. Nunc Shamsha V’Nova factus sum, Domine inmortuae.”
Magic rippled and a dozen mana stones were drained dry. Quartz crystals cracked as every drop of mana was ripped from them. Phantasmal hands of reality and soul magic ripped into his chest. The odd glowing crystal in his hands was stuffed into the gaping hole that opened up where his core was supposed to be. The weight of the hells pulled down on it more than he was expecting so it had fallen an inch or two before it finished fusing with his mana and soul. His skin was blasted away and his muscles were burned off but Shamsha couldn’t feel anything but pain. Only in hindsight could he know what the pain was. The world had gone black almost immediately as his eyes ruptured under the immense magical pressure of three life forces, three souls, and three loved ones.
Six gallons of blood, bled over six days, blazed with life force in the six large lines he had painted. The words he had spoken were written in three sets of nine that orbited the circle around the pentagram. He could distinctly feel them being seared into his very soul until finally everything clicked into place in one, final, resounding blast of agony.
—
Isaac’s eyes shot open and he tossed the skull away from himself. He was covered in sweat and breathing heavily. “It was just a dream.” He said to himself to help calm his pounding heart. “That wasn’t me. It was Shamsha. It wasn’t real.”
“Isaac?” Lenna said worriedly from beside him. “Are you okay? You looked like you wanted to scream but couldn’t.” She grabbed his hands that he had been wringing without realizing it. “What happened?”
“Shamsha.” Isaac spoke as his gaze bore into the skull that had finished rolling a dozen feet away from him. “Shamsha was so much worse of a person that I expected. I don’t know what I expected but it wasn’t that.” Isaac said with a pained look on his face. He could still smell the blood and see the images of the shriveled corpses of Shamsha’s family every time he blinked. “I need water.” He told Lenna. “I feel sick.”
“It was that bad?” Lenna asked as she let go of one of his hands so she could reach into her Bottomless Bag and get him some water.
“He farmed his own family for blood and then used their souls as fuel.” Isaac explained with a look of utter disgust on his face that was so intense it was mixed with horror and confusion at the act. One of the few things Isaac remembered from his first life was how much he cared, and was cared for, by his family. Doing what Shamsha had done to a random person was awful enough, but to his own family? Isaac felt his stomach turning in knots. “I, I need a break.” Isaac said and took the offered waterskin without even realizing it. After a moment his mind seemed to catch up with his hand and he took a sip of water.
“Are you going to be alright?” Lenna asked him.
Isaac rose to his feet. “Yeah.” He told her. “I just need a walk and some air.”
“Air?” Phantom asked. “Down here?”
“Just a walk then.” Isaac replied unconsciously and started down the stairs to leave.
“What about the skull?” Lenna asked him.
“I don’t know.” Isaac said barely loud enough for her to hear as he left.
Lenna picked up the skull and put it in her Bottomless Bag. Kahtesh looked up at her like she was supposed to tell him what to do. “Just follow him and make sure nothing happens to him while he’s like this.” Lenna told the small bone dragon. “That is all we can do for now. When he is ready to talk or move on from this, he will.” She looked after her mate. “For now, let’s just be nearby, okay?”
Kahtesh bobbed his head slightly and then followed her gaze. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about what his master was trying to do. All Kahtesh knew was that he was Kahtesh. He remembered as much as Isaac did about his life, which was only really his death, so was he even Kahtesh at all? Those thoughts were far too big for the little dragon so he just did as his master’s mate had instructed him and followed after Isaac. Regardless of what was to come, Kahtesh would trust his master, after all, weren’t they sort of the same thing.