Travis and Clyde were both coming to grips with the idea that Gods existed. For some reason, this revelation was harder to rationalize, especially since the sheriff did not give them any other information.
They put it aside as they went over to the tower, seeking to learn if the two less extreme cultists could be trusted to come along. On the surface, it was quite the risk bringing two people that were part of a cult just yesterday on such an important mission.
But Travis understood the thinking behind the decision. They were desperate to grow their faction. Take this trip, for example. Just bringing one person sacrificed the safety of their home base. Whether it was Javier or Clyde, taking away such a large part of the base's defense put everyone else in more danger.
If they could add just five or so more people, it would boost the defense tremendously. As Napoleon Bonaparte said, “quantity has a quality all its own.” These two men, who at first glance did not seem like great candidates, could actually be perfect.
If they were forced into the cult due to circumstances and did not relish their time in that group, then being brought to a more open and empathic faction could lead them to cherish the opportunity. Which would make them loyal and at least semi-experienced faction members. More experienced in the horrors this new world has to offer then the majority of the faction's current members.
Approaching the tower, one was reminded how out of place if was, and no one knew exactly how it came to be. The sheriff was tight-lipped on its creation. Regardless, it stood like a monument right at the end of what was a pretty humble village.
Standing four stories high but not very wide. It appeared to be a perfect circle around while only measuring at about 15 feet in circumference, which did not offer much elbow room. Still, on the first floor, it had a few beds and some storage. The second floor featured nothing but storage. It was like a throwaway room you would see sneaking around the basements in Skyrim.
They weren't filled with much yet, but the villagers were working on it. The third floor is where the cultists were held. There were two cells on each side with room in the middle for a chair and a small desk. That is where a guard stood, Travis requesting one be there 24/7 so the bad cultists didn't try to be a negative influence on the potentially good one.
When Travis walked in, the three individuals were sitting on the floor, talking in hushed tones. While the other two were trying to get some sleep, or at least looking like they were. There was an older lady in there sitting at the desk, writing something down when they came over.
“How have they been?” Travis asked her.
She looked up, annoyed by the interruption. “Fine, I suppose. Not much trouble they could get into just sitting there. Why I have to sit up here at all is a mystery to me.”
“I think it's because they are not supposed to be talking across cells,” Travis pointed at one group, then the other, “they can't talk to them.”
“Well, that is just cruel. Besides, these men were just members of a support group. Why are they locked up anyway?”
Travis' head was going to explode, and he did not have time to debate things with this woman. He asked her for the key and unlocked the cell of the two he was considering taking. He told them to follow him, and they went down one floor. Travis could sense through his perception that they were not even considering running; they mostly seemed to just lament the fact that their old lives were no longer.
“Sit down, guys. What are your names?” His tone was not soft, but it wasn't aggressive either. He could tell that these men were afraid of him. He thought about having Clyde do the questioning, but he had specific things he wanted to know, and it was easier this way. Omar was keeping watch at the stairs to make sure this was a faction-only conversation.
Both men were white, and they looked to be in their 30s or 40s. Neither one was tall, but they were both in decent shape, probably from the lack of food and walking so much. The man who seemed to be the leader of the two had a full head of hair and a beard; he had dark hair and eyes. The other one was clean-cut and had similar features, though not as dark.
“My name is Anthony, and that is Felix.”
“Do you know why I am talking to you guys?” Travis was amazed at how perceptive he now was. He knew about the radar-type power he had, but this was the first time he had questioned people with an eye for the truth.
Not only could he sense fluctuations through what he thought had to be magic, but his ability to read body language was also enhanced.
“I can guess but do not know,” said Anthony, the one with the beard. He didn't look angry but also wasn't thrilled by his lot in life, understandably so. His ‘aura,’ Travis didn't know what else to call it, seemed to be full of regret for bad choices and missed opportunities.
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“What about you?”
The man looked surprised that he was asked, “what about me, sir?” he asked rather meekly. It wasn't a ruse; this man was an introvert for sure. He radiated fear but also was thankful that Anthony was with him because he had been his protector.
“Any idea why we have you separated and why we are questioning you? About things other than your former cult.”
The largest of the remaining cultists, one from the other cell, yelled out, “former nothing, once you're David's follower, you always are. We ain't follow an imposter like you, I tell ya that!” Travis didn't think they were talking loudly, that guy must have good hearing. They weren't very far away now that he thought about it and sound travels well in closed in circles.
He was of one mind to just ignore this ignoramus, but his other mind won out. Besides, he wanted to try something Clyde had mentioned when they were walking.
He walked upstairs and towards the other cell, then he pushed his senses out in an aggressive manner, seeing if he could spook this loudmouth. He was hoping to direct it forward in the direction of unrepentant cultists.
At first, he wasn't sure if it worked, but after about 5 seconds, the two guys in the cell with the big man got up and tried to run out of the back of the cell, except there was nowhere to go. It took them a second to realize this, and then they curled up in the corner and started to whimper.
Travis was not psychotic and did not want to torture anyone. As he thought about retracting what he just pushed out, he saw that the big man that yelled out hadn't moved. It was obvious he was trying to appear tougher than he was by withstanding the aura assault. It looked like he might do it too, until he started to shake, and foam came out of his mouth.
The man proceeded to fall over, pure dead weight, hitting his head with force on the floor. Travis, of course, stopped and started to turn around to look downstairs and ask Clyde if he could believe what happened.
As he did, he saw that Clyde had his face in his hands, Omar had retreated down another level while the two prisoners were bent over.
“Clyde, are you okay?” Travis said as he ran over to him. He saw that his friend was not immediately responsive, so he tried something else. Very lightly, he pushed out with a nurturing and protective aura surge.
With everything going on Travis couldn't escape the idea that he needed a new name for this power. Aura sounded like some new age shit that soccer moms talked about as they stuck crystals up their, "Travis! How are you feeling?"
Clyde pulled him out of his contemplation. Even though he had just been assaulted by a burst of magical energy, his first thought was of his people the moment or two after his mind regulated itself.
Every one of the good guys appeared to be okay. Travis wanted to know what happened so he could be more careful using his spirit as a weapon. He was test driving spirit in place of aura to see how it felt coming out of his mouth.
“What happened, man? I thought I sent the aggressive magic just towards the asshole that yelled out.”
“At first, I just started to get a bad feeling, like someone or something hated me and wanted me to suffer, then it turned into a splitting headache.” Clyde still looked a little worse for wear.
They went upstairs and witnessed a pretty ugly sight. The man that Travis used his power on fully had fallen and hit his head pretty hard. He appeared to be dead. The other two were still on the ground in the fetal position.
The reason why this 'spirit attack' was so strong were two-fold. Number one and by far the most important is the strength in which Travis launched it. Since it was the first time, and he didn't think it would work the amount of outward force used was far beyond anything required.
This type of magic is not physical, or at least not in its deployment. Meaning that the user does not have to do anything with their body, just their mind and spirit or aura. Except that was unknown to Travis so he pushed out with his mind like he was supposed too but then added extra by tensing up his body. Partly from inexperience but also because he was angry at that man for daring to interrupt him. Clyde had already started to see it but Travis had an autocratic tendency.
It took him some time to recover from what he had done, not just the fact that he killed a man. I mean, no one would miss that guy, and honestly, they couldn't keep him in confinement forever. That was what the sheriff and Clyde had told him, at least. There was truth to it of course but it didn't absolve Travis of guilt.
There was no way around it, he had murdered a man. It wouldn't be considered 1st degree murder if courts still existed, it was a mistake. Maybe manslaughter would have been the charge. Something Clyde had tried to joke about. The Sheriff had said not to worry that he would take care of it. He just made Travis promise that he would come by on their way back, which he agreed.
He knew Clyde was just trying to get him to feel better; he had no read on the sheriff. Omar had escaped the worst effects and seemed his normal self. He didn't give off a very strong aura, Travis realized. The two men walking with them were now sufficiently scared straight, and he didn't think they would try anything, especially not with Travis anywhere close.
There was no chance to question the men, but he could read them well enough to decide to bring them. It turned out the introverted one, Felix, was already level 3. Travis could sense it, but not what his stats were, not exactly at least.
The Sheriff had informed him that his offensive aura, is what the sheriff called it, wouldn't work as well in open space. It was a physical attack in this realm of magic and like anything dense and physical, it worked better in closed spaces. Either by mistake or on purpose the Sheriff would say things that intimated other planets or dimensions. Travis noticed but didn't realize how important the implications were, Clyde on the other hand did.
He was keeping receipts, and the powers that be shouldn't underestimate a man like Clyde. It was almost like how parents didn't think their kids noticed that they smoked pot, and so didn't try to hide it. Clyde noticed alright, and they would come to regret their laziness in covering it up.
The group were now finally on the way to the northern settlement. The Sheriff said it was under siege, but the last update he received said that it no longer was. He seemed to know a lot for a leader of a tiny village in the middle of nowhere. Travis wanted to know what he was because he didn't think he was human.