The legion had split into Imisyions. One half made their way out of the city, whilst the other half led by Aegeus, Duxus of the 1st Cohort continued onward into the Scholar’s District. The Cohorts spread themselves out and travelled through the district under the cover of illusory Veils and extensive Soothing spells - an expensive manoeuvre, but they could not afford to attract the Princidaimon to themselves again. Not with how unprepared they were.
Eliminating the threat was no longer their objective. Now, their goal was solely to investigate and rescue.
They followed some distance behind some shambling Leucrocottas carrying civilians on their backs - from their clothes, Caputi Scholarii. The 13th were situated at the front of the Imisyions, with the Draekslanni looking out for any other Daimons and keeping track of the Leucrocottas. The mounted 1st Cohort led from the back. The remaining Monoceri that were unmounted were absent, having been ordered to join the other half of the legion. Except one.
Nethuns walked, riderless and with the same unwavering determination in his eyes that he always had. He had been adamant on finding Laevinus, dead or alive. None could dissuade the Monoceros, not that anyone wanted to. It would have been hypocritical on their part if they tried.
It was a quality that Rufinus admired in the Monoceros. He too had come to this awful place to look for a friend. Once more, it had been his turn to maintain the shields and Veil, and he took his place beside Adonis.
“Any sign of him?” he spoke into his friend’s mind between blinks.
Adonis shook his head subtly without looking at him. He was more vigilant than ever, despite the discomfort that bit through the Tribunus’ pain suppression spell - he was good at hiding it. The background sensations had gotten stronger since the Imisyion entered the district. It was becoming incredibly difficult for him and the Draekslanni to distinguish a Daimon from the rest of the environment. Instead, it was easier to pick out one of their own and Adonis hoped to use that to find any sleepers. Not a single person had been found yet. Let alone his friend.
Rufinus left Adonis to it, lending his Focus to the veil and his sight to the darkened areas. The rest of Lidantium had been in terrible shape but to him and others, the Scholar’s District barely resembled anything in Ludceta or anything within Magus’ Five Faces. It looked like the forming body of some impossible beast rather than a district. The entirety of it was built upon warped stone and flesh. Strange buildings seemed to contract and relax on instinct.
The only thing that he vaguely recognised was the spine-like structure that ran through the centre of the district; where the city’s Magisterium once stood. A line of spiked segments, glowing with an intense ultraviolet hue that lit the entire district in an eerie purple hue. The signals that ran through all of the vessels and nerves spread over the entire city appeared to originate from the spine.
‘Adiuta Magus… What happened to this place?’
Even more troubling were the many empty scraps of clothing that clung to the flesh ground, almost forming mounds in places. It seemed unlikely they’d find anyone alive or unpossessed here, yet, Gallus was determined. The other Duxii were less optimistic, but they still wanted to find out what happened to those who were selected to be brought here.
As they slowly passed through, they spotted a few Daimons a few blocks ahead of them: possessed Monoceri kneeled in a line, pressing their branched horns against one of the larger vessels. Adonis’ gaze lingered upon the Daimons.
“What do you see, Ado?”
Adonis pointed with his eyes. Upon closer inspection, the Daimons were falling apart slowly. The ultraviolet that ran through their vessels had grown weaker, almost showing no impulses around the extremities. Bit by bit the Daimons were sloughing away. Then their eyes had completely fallen out of their heads, rendering them a mess that spilled over the floor. The mess began to slowly reform, joining the larger vessel. Upon joining the whole, ultraviolet began to run through it once more.
“Any idea why this is happening to them, Ado?” asked Rylan.
Adonis’ eyes were narrowed. It seemed as though the Daimon’s hosts were degrading just as if they were in the process of death. They weren’t injured. Was it disease? Or something more? There were too many gaps in his knowledge to understand what was happening. Perhaps he was looking at it with the wrong set of eyes.
“No,” he finally answered.
Rufinus sighed. He knew that look in his friend’s eyes but he quickly tapped his shoulder, “Come. Before the Duxus bites our heads off again.”
As much as Adonis wanted to stay there and observe, the Imisyion was already moving on to catch up with the Leucrocottas. In the meantime, he compiled what he had seen before sending it to the Duxii. They all passed through the Monoceri once stood, picking up their eyes along the way, as they had done with all the eyes they had found.
When they came past a certain street, the Draekslanni stopped in their tracks.
“Wait,” Saorise spoke first.
“Everyone, hide!”
Their message reached Duxus Gallus first. Immediately, he relayed it throughout the Imysion. Everyone took their positions around the area, holding still - they were near-invisible, so long as they didn’t cause the slightest disturbance in the environment around them. A great wind blew through the wide pathway. It almost knocked the pointed hats off of most of the soldiers, but they held onto them tightly.
They saw it: up in the air, the Prinicidaimon rushed through the sky with its great, interlocking wings of flesh. Its body crackled with energy as it dove unsteadily over the Daimonic structures.
Adonis and Rufinus stared up at the thing, fear mounting under the Soothing spell. It was nothing like their encounter with the possessed Duxus Strixus. Adonis and the other Draekslanni felt pain shoot through their heads even with just a momentary glance. As much as he wanted to, Adonis didn’t flinch. He didn’t blink.
But to the others that had encountered the Daimon before, its main body looked worse for wear; its human limbs were crossed over each other, shrivelled. The robes of nerves that it donned were beginning to slough off. A few of its eyes fell from its wings and head, raining down upon the soldiers below.
One of them bounced off of the brim of one soldier’s hat.
The Princidaimon stopped.
All were still. The soldier in question had shut her eyes, focusing on clearing her mind. Others did the same. As if it heard the closing of eyelids, the Princidaimon landed, each wing grasping on the two structures on either side of the path. It lowered itself like a spider. Everyone struggled not to let any bit of fear bleed out and the Soothers were working overtime to keep everyone calm. Bodies became statues. Breaths held. The Imysion grew light-headed. Those few Minor Chronocycles felt like forever.
The Princidaimon eventually moved on, quickly launching itself upwards, towards the spine-like Magisterium building. Rubble and viscera rained down upon the soldiers once more. They delayed their breaths and movements a few seconds more until few could hold it no longer.
Relieved, everyone took a moment to regain their breaths and recharge their Focus in turns. Some did not hesitate to take a long drink of Focus potion. Looking back, Adonis saw the Princidaimon perch itself at the top of the spinal structure. With a strange jerky movement, it descended down.
‘It’s atrophying, Adonis thought to himself; a blessing, for if it remained above them any longer, it would have surely sighted the Imysion.
The others took this time to rest and digest what they had experienced. They had lost the Leucrocottas for now. It would take some time before they could recover their energies and regain their bearings to continue onward. Ample time for Adonis to get his thoughts together before relaying what he saw to all the Duxii.
“That was close,” Rufinus said with a wavering mental voice.
He descended to a kneel beside his companion and took a sip of Focus potion - they had both been conservative of their consumption, still having 4 full vials and one less than halfway empty.
“It was falling apart like the others. That’s a bit strange, wouldn’t you say?”
“I think I know why,” Adonis said.
“Huh?
“Later.”
“Oh, come on, Ado. Don’t keep me in suspense.”
Meanwhile, the Duxii had the grim work of collecting up the eyes discarded by the Princidaimon. As they collected up the eyes, they noticed that they were all different colours, gleaming like gemstones and dripping with ichor - their gemstone quality, a sign that they once belonged to Ludcetan citizens. Human ones.
Gallus stared at the eyes in his hand. He was reminded of what befell Strixus. Disgust and horror rose up, blocked within the Soothing spell. So many people had befallen such a terrible fate. Though he wished he had been there earlier by some strange circumstance, what could he have possibly done about it?At least it was a mercy that they were in his hands once more. He could grant them some peace.
Yet, as he burned them away to Paradis, he felt uneasy. The Daimon possessing Strixus had used a twisted version of his own knowledge against them before. It was as if the Daimons had used these eyes the same horrible way Maleficari had done to their enemies. At least their essences could still be saved. He suspected even more that the Daimons were stealing their victim’s knowledge. No wonder they kept becoming stronger and more unpredictable with each encounter.
He and the other Duxii were briefly interrupted with a message from one of the soldiers - one of his.
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Valerian found himself back where he had started.He’d lost count of the number of memories he had collected of all of his failed attempts at breaking the Mind Trap. They lay in a messy pile in front of him. Right at the edge of his Mindscape, he stared long and hard at the wall that kept him trapped and weak. Frustration grew. Self-deprecating thoughts started to fade out of view when he caught sight of the occasional bright lights that flashed beyond his prison.
It relieved him to see that the other person close by was still fighting. Like the light of a Nightstar, it kept him from sinking back easily into the nightmares. But the lights had grown weaker. The Princidaimon had stuck many more of its extensions into that Mindscape. It refused to relent, and it seemed as though it would keep burrowing until its host yielded.
He needed to be quick and not just for the Magister’s sake. The Princidaimon’s worm-like tendrils were burrowed deep past the surface of his own mind, lost in convoluted tunnels and blocked off by layers of mental shielding. It was far from getting what it needed to possess him, but he could feel it getting closer. He could sense that had learned a fair fraction of knowledge from him already.
Anxious thoughts manifested around him. Noxious clouds, thick enough to constrict his movements and make him feel as though it was hard to breathe. Pressure forced him downward as he looked through the pile of memories. What was he missing? He was sure he was close to reaching the counterspell, but none of his recent attempts had succeeded. His mind jittered around between different thoughts, connected but hardly useful to achieving his goal.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
‘Unless…’
There was a pattern emerging in his panic-fuelled search for an answer. He had remembered the base-shapes of the spell correctly: a circular framework- obviously - and the exact symbols used in the Nequarii counterspells. He dug through the books and tablets, picking out several from the pile.
‘What if I use the exact symbols?’
It seemed stupidly simple, but then again, he didn’t have to waste so much time thinking about translating Nequarii to Ludcetan last time. He made a mental note to slap himself if it did work.
‘This had better work.’
He began forming the new counterspell. It was expensive - he predicted that most of his remaining Focus would deplete, as with the other attempts - but he could worry about that later.
‘Hold on, Magister. Just a little bit longer…’
The spell was nearly complete. All he needed was a few more finishing touches to bring it all together and-
A horrible squelching faded in, like a myriad of worms approaching. Whipping his head behind him, he saw the Princidaimon slithering toward him.
“O Skata!”
Perhaps his anxiety was too strong; it had given him a solution but the Princidaimon had sniffed him out.
He dove straight out of its reach as it charged towards him once again. It went in and out of the Mind Trap’s wall and continued its chase. Memories of his previous encounters floated freely in his mind enough for him to determine its next moves. And there were many of those memories that the Daimon had become somewhat predictable. Although, it would have been easier if he could cast another spell. But with most of his Focus depleted and the counterspell still ready to be released from his eyes, he couldn’t cast another one.
He wasn't about to let it send him back into his nightmares again. He couldn’t afford to. His anxiety grew, forced to dodge the Daimon and finish the spell.
‘Done. Magus, please let this work!”
His eyes grew brightly, ready. Upon dodging the leviathan of worms once more, he threw himself against the Mind Trap.
And released the counterspell.
After a violent tremor that shook Valerian’s thoughts into confusion, the Daimonic spell finally burst. Small blebs of ultraviolet flew outwards, some bursting and releasing bright particles. A snow of stardust fell over his Mindscape and he felt his stolen Focus returning to him. It was a small fraction, compared to what he originally had. At least, with rest, he could recover more without the Mind Trap siphoning it away. It was enough for his Mindscape to naturally reform its shields.
And just enough for him to kick the Princidaimon out. He saw the thing that tormented him flailing around. The ruined library shifted into a sky of Nightstars. The writhing beast stood out, stark ultraviolet against a midnight sky. Confidence filled Valerian like an elixir and his eyes were aglow. Circular frameworks covered the surface of his mind and symbols came together in a uniform manner, drawing out memories and thoughts of pure boredom.
Rings of oblivion encased the Princidaimon. It left a bad enough taste that it swiftly retracted out of Valerian’s mind like a snail’s eye to salt.
At last, Valerian’s mind was freed. He collapsed to his knees, feeling the weightless ground become an endless horizon of soft bedding from Lumis. He took a few more moments to recover more Focus before he got his thoughts in order. It was unbelievable that he had fended off against a Princidaimon, he thought he was in a dream. But no dream could replicate the feeling of Focus returning to him as he rested.
The bed-filled landscape began to shrink as Valerian rose up. His Mindscape reformed, becoming the endless library organised with every single thought and recent memory. He found himself sitting on a comfortable seat, comfortably overwhelmed with stray thoughts. But the one that shone the most - and most uncomfortably harsh - was of that other mind that weakly flashed.
‘The Magister! How could I forget?’
His thoughts turned grim. The light grew dull before being snuffed out and warping into a single extension of the tendrils that invaded it. Not a memory but a possibility.
‘N-no. There’s no chance I’d let that happen.’
He flew from his seat, rushing past the parting bookshelves until he found himself at the edge again, greeted by the rose-gold glow of a protective shield. He could see the rest of Roya better now, finding himself surrounded by many more ultraviolet stars in the distance. He tremored with horror at the sight before he remembered himself. Other Daimons flitted around; he couldn’t let them enter his weakened mind, so he placed a Soothing spell on himself.
He turned his attention to the nearest Mindscape. Its light could be barely seen, but there were faint pulses. Without much time to lose, Valerian took a habitual deep breath and began casting a spell. He took one leap forward.
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Pavonikos was on their last ounce of Focus once again. They had fought long and hard against the Princidaimon but they weren’t any closer to freeing themselves of its terrible spell. Through their muddled mind, and Essence-burnt memories, they managed to preserve the essential parts of their mind that kept them fighting.
But they were tiring out. Again.
“Tribunus. Where are you?”
The distant sounds of partying followed, growing louder.
But Pavonikos covered their ears, even if it was in vain, as they could still hear the voices. They knew it was just a dream, but they could only hold on to lucidity for so long.
Another tendril entered their mind, but something was different. It struck their mind violently, enough to bring Pavonikos to their knees. A deathly silence snuffed out the music and cheering. When Pavonikos opened their eyes again, their Mindscape was unrecognisable.
Pavonikos found themselves leg-up in golden ichor. They tried to shut their eyes but each time they’d see the same thing over and over again endlessly. Bodies bobbed up and down. Brothers and sisters in arms… Beloveds…
Their breath hitched in their throat. A sharp, cold spikes formed as the ichor crystalised around the entire landscape. Pavonikos felt a million needles pierce through their limbs. They couldn't move, no matter how much they wanted to turn away, but even they knew if they could turn away it wouldn't make the bodies disappear.
Pavonikos screamed.
But their scream was cut short by the sound of crackling all around them. Past the red skies, cracks of violet lights flashed briefly before breaking down into fine, glowing particles. Pavonikos felt those lights rain down upon them, returning some of their stolen Focus.
A new scream echoed through the nightmare. Then a large splash. Pavonikos’ scream was silenced by the sight of something splashing around in the ichor - which was losing its lustre and changing a gloomy blue-green like sea water.
A soldier with a black cloak shot up from the water, splashing around wildly before he got his bearings.
“Magus, where-?”
‘That voice..’
He swung around, catching eyes with the bewildered Tribunus. His eyes lingered and glowed - a Royan spell of identification, as Pavonikos recognised it. Many thoughts gathered around the soldier’s head.
“Tribunus? What are you..? Oh, this isn’t…” His voice was overlaid and quick, it was hard to isolate the thoughts. This was normal of people who were often overwhelmed with too many thoughts at once.
The Soother blinked and stammered incoherently before wading towards them. As if realising he made an error, he quickly formed another Royan spell. The stinging needles of fear subsided and Pavonikos felt themselves falling down weightlessly in the darkness.
And sank into dreamless sleep.
The darkness gradually faded as they recovered their Focus. Once more, they were back in the familiarity of their Mindscape - the garden aviary of their home in Lumis. Birds of all kinds appeared and sang, carrying their thoughts and memories. They looked up to see the soldier from the 13th kneeling over them with timid, tourmaline eyes. They remembered this soldier. Valerian Corvus.
“Tribunus. I’m so glad you're alright. I must admit I didn't expect to see you here.”
Pavonikos got to their feet. Their immediate reaction was to look at their surroundings
“What happened…? Is this real?”
Valerian nodded vigorously, “It is. Well, in a way. We’re still in your mind but you’re free.”
“How…?” Pavonikos said, their tired voice was a mix of bewilderment and relief.
“I’m glad you asked. The counterspell is not as efficient as it could be but it does what it needs to do. You see, I had to use a combination of several counterspells for similar cases and…”
As he rambled on, Pavonikos struggled to pay attention. Their mind was still quite addled and in a state of recovery. Noticing their attention drifting from exhaustion, Valerian cut himself off and shared the spell directly into the Tribunus’ mind.
“I’m sorry, I tend to get carried away.”
“No, it’s fine,” Pavonikos sighed, “I don't know how much longer I could have held out for. Thank you for placing that spell in my mind.”
The thoughts around Valerian took on a rose gold glow before shifting to a blue neutered by his Soothing Spell.
“I must make a confession,” he began, “I wasn’t expecting to see you here, Tribunus. You see, I hoped to wake the Magister Bellaxus.”
Pavonikos’ eyes widened as memories of the Crafts District filled their surroundings. The Mindscape resembled that moment when they and the Bellaxus fell victim to the spell. They could still feel Laevinus’ arms wrapped around them.
“The Magister. Do you know what happened to him?!”
Valerian shook his head, “I… I’m sorry Tribunus but your guess is as good as mine.”
Pavonikos sunk to their knees, both soldiers saw that passing memory bleed out, or at least a version of it.
After the Princidaimon’s initial attack, the Magister Bellaxus had seen something follow after. A splinter of its ultraviolet light arced through the air, directly hurtling towards him. Instinctively, he raised a shield. But it wouldn’t be enough - the Princidaimon had shattered the Golden Dome without much effort. That’s why Pavonikos galloped towards him.
Before the Tribunus tried to save him in vain, Laevinus grabbed him and turned around. The shield had disappeared, his attention disturbed. Pavonikos felt a slight thump and heard the Magister briefly cry out before they came tumbling off their Monoceri. They collapsed together, his arms still wrapped around them, alive but sapped of Focus. His voice, urging Pavonikos to use the Teleportare to go back home echoed through their ears.
They remembered the pain, but nothing hurt more than the understanding they came to upon reflecting upon these memories.
“It was my fault…” Pavonikos choked.
Valerian held them as they began to collapse, “Tribunus, don’t blame yourself.”
“How can I not take the blame?!” their voice made Valerian flinch back, “If I hadn’t tried to play the hero, he wouldn’t have been distracted.”
Valerian held them as they began to crumble.
“I killed him.”
“He might very well be alive,” Valerian blurted. It seemed weak, but he just knew he had to reassure the Tribunus. “I mean. We're still alive. Have faith, Tribunus. You never lost it then, so please, don't lose it now. There are others that need us.”
As brittle as those words were, it was enough to renew some hope in Pavonikos. Just maybe, he must have been right.
“Where are we now?”
It occurred to Valerian that he hadn't seen where their physical bodies lay in Tirra and now he was tempted to open his eyes to the realm of elements.
“I don't know.”
“You stay here and rest whilst I look and survey the area,” Pavonikos said.
“Are you sure? But you’re-”
Pavonikos held up their hand, “If there are more like us then you will need your rest more than I do. Rest, soldier.”
Taking the order, Valerian returned to their mind, fully able to rest their eyes but not before renewing a Soothing spell upon their Tribunus. He sensed they’d need it.
Taking a deep breath, Pavonikos opened their Tirran eyes. They found themselves gasping for breath, struggling against the thin membrane of flesh covering them and the thin neurons that wrapped around their body. Pavonikos tore off the nerves and broke through the membrane, then sat up to take the sight in.
They felt as if they had woken up in Kaeva but as they looked at the structure of the room carefully and noticed the unmistakably Ludcetan architecture, they realised that this wasn’t the case. The entire room was covered in purplish nerves, pulsing with those eerie lights. This was not like anything they recognised. More people were wrapped up in pods like they had been, still trapped in their nightmares.
Pavonikos felt something brush against their hand. They looked down to see Corvus resting, a meditative expression on their face. Unlike the other soldiers, the purplish nerves attached to him were dead, no longer pulsing with light.
Pavonikos opened their eyes to Roya once more, thinking over what they had seen.
“Corvus,” they called out, “I need you.”
Once more Valerian appeared before them, this time in the aviary.
“T-tribunus,” He almost forgot to show his sign of respect, “What did you find?”
Pavonikos looked grimly at the soldier before him, “Nothing good.”
Pavonikos gestured to the fountain water. Valerian looked inside, seeing what Pavonikos had seen. His eyes widened and he threw a hand to his mouth, inviting fleeting pages of fear that made a few purplish weeds form in Pavonikos’ mind. When he noticed what he had done he calmed.
“I’m sorry. This… This isn't good. Where are we now?”
“I’m not sure,” Pavonikos sighed, “But it seems like we might be in the Magisterium. Did you notice the structure of the room?”
Valerian had indeed noticed. With the way it curved upwards into a dome and the arrangement of those pods, he could picture it once being a Curia where Inferi and Secundi Magisters flocked. He’d know. House Corvus had their own little murder of Magisters observing. Pecking.
Pavonikos raised a hand to scatter the birds that had gathered around them, “There’s something else.”
The bright Lisianthus pink skies of Pavonikos’ Mindscape cleared, revealing many more Mindscapes surrounding them, all trapped within that accursed spell.
“We must wake them,” Pavonikos said.
Valerian couldn’t agree more. He was already prepared with the spell, “As you command, Tribunus.”