Year: 3045 AGD

Month: Midwinter

Second Sixthday

Death’s Edge Forest

“That’s right, breath in. Feel the air around you.” Pershanti spoke in soft, soothing tones. They had been with the Quaelyne for a full Eightday now, and they both found that it was the perfect atmosphere for their meditation training.

A short distance from the village, they had found a small hot spring that was being fed from the massive water flow below. Most of the pools had a slight smell that Pershanti said smelled like rotten eggs, but there were a few smaller pools that were set apart from the rest that were not offensive to the nose. The pair currently sat near one of these pools, listening to the water burble up from below.

It had been getting easier for the boy to attain a quiet mind as the time and distance from the mine expanded. The boy who had been left to rot in the mine was not the same boy who had was now concentrating next to the quiet Grenaldin.

“Turn your thoughts inward, sending all extraneous thought aside. Once again locate that wall inside your mind that you aren’t able to pass through.”

Pershanti’s voice faded away as he delved deeply into his own mind. His mind still registered the words, but they became so faint that they no longer mattered. He had been searching his memories the day before when they had located the place in his mind that he couldn’t access. Dauntless had been with them yesterday and had dubbed the spot “the vault.”

A low growl from the deepest parts of his mind accompanied his arrival at the vault. Whatever had been done to him, it seemed that it offended that part of him greatly. He also found the idea offensive, but having no clue what was behind the block, he wasn’t as bothered as that deep part of him seemed to be. While he felt the disgust from that part of his subconscious, he sent a tendril of thought in that direction.

The main focus of his concentration was directed towards the blank space before him, searching for even the tiniest weakness. As had happened the day before, he couldn’t find anything that felt different from the rest. It was just one giant blank space in his mind that he couldn’t bypass. After an indefinite amount of time, he started throwing his consciousness against the blank space in a futile effort to feel even the slightest shift.

He could feel himself losing the concentration necessary to continue his exploration when that small slice of thought that he had sent into the deepest parts of his minds was seized forcefully by the thing that dwelt there.

I can break through.

How?

Take the manacles off and give me control. I can fix everything.

Do not give in. Relentless’s voice broke through the boy's thoughts like a spear.

Don’t interfere in this; I can make you all greater than you are.

As you have already started to do to my son? Relentless growled. Did you even ask his permission before you started to change him?

I do not require permission! We are greater than…

No! the boy thought, just because we can, doesn’t mean we should.

Fool, those are the kinds of thoughts that allowed the Mage to have his way with your mind. You restrained me then as well. I was hoping that without the watcher’s training you would be more malleable.

Focus your mind—you are this thing's master. Dauntless said, inserting himself into the battle.

The boy could now feel the minds of the entire tribe focused on him. Not only did they want to help him master this inner part of himself, but they knew that if he failed it would affect them all. Sending the rest of his will through the strand of thought that the thing had a hold of, the boy powered through, but what he found was beyond anything he could have ever imagined.

“You must, Lagelion, there is no other option—every other avenue has been exhausted. Even the Mages cannot guarantee his safety.”

“Analya, please don’t make me do this. We can keep him safe…”

“No, you know that if the High Council finds out about him he will never know a day of peace in his life. He will always be looking over his shoulder, wondering when the hunters will come for him. If he is just some nobody on the streets they won’t care about him until he can make a name for himself.” She pulled his thin, calloused hands into her own a moment before a strong pinching sensation surged through her abdomen. If she hurt his hand as she squeezed it, he gave no outward sign. The contractions had been getting stronger and closer together all night. Her son would be born this night, and the world must think that he died in the process.

“You are right, I know, it’s just so hard for me to feel this helpless.” He looked into her eyes then, and she could see the pain in those mercury orbs of his.

“Go, get ready. Soon it will be time to call in the midwife.” She held his hand up to her cheek. “There is still time before the birth, tell them to wait until I call.”

“As you wish,” he said, hesitating for a moment, clearly not wanting to break contact with her. After a moment, his eyes shifted into that familiar resolve that he often wore, and he pulled his hand away and walked towards the door, stopping only to put his sword on.

“Oh, Lagelion,” Analya whispered after he closed the door. “Please forgive me for what we are doing to our son this night.” Another contraction came shortly thereafter and she allowed herself to cry into the quiet solitude of night.

“Though you leave your son to the whims of fate, he need not be without certain protections.” A soft raspy voice floated through the room.

“Who is there? Show yourself. I must warn you, I am a Shaper and about to have a child—there are few who could contest my will at this moment.”

“Peace, young Theromvore,” the voice said, materializing out of the darkness in the form of a well kempt man well into the autumn of his life. “I have heard your prayers in the middle of the night and in my benevolence chose to grant your son a boon.”

It didn’t take long for her mind to flow through the list of beings that this man could be, and when she decided on a name her blood ran cold. “Ol’ Thom,” she whispered.

He bowed slightly in acknowledgement.

“What does the God of Death want with an unborn child?”

“An unborn child? Nothing,” he said, with a wave of his hand. “Your soon to be born child, on the other hand… I simply wish to help him survive what is to come.”

“Help him how?” Analya asked, not sure if she really wanted the answer. “And what is to come?”

“What is to come? Heartache, loneliness, and betrayal, or to put it more succinctly: life. Life will come, my dear.” He looked truly sad for a moment before his face lit up with a wicked glint. “But, he doesn’t have to suffer through it needlessly. I will gift him with the ability to see when death is near and give him the cunning and finesse to be able to do something about it.”

“What do you want in return?” Analya said, realizing that she was about to make a deal with a creature whose motives were unclear.

“I simply want him to live. I assure you that will be more than enough to keep me busy for years to come.” He gently placed his hand on her stomach, and a smile crept across his features. “Yes, this one will be strong, perhaps the greatest of you all. The hunters would never let one such as this survive.”

She wanted to swat away that hand and tell him to go back to whatever hole he had crawled out of, but she also knew that he wasn’t lying. Thom was one of the beings that the rest of the world knew as gods. She knew better from her studies at the academy, but she also knew that even though he would also benefit from the deal in some way, he would do exactly as he said.

“What do you need from me?” Analya said as her vision began to blur.

“Need? Intriguing, yes, I would like you to tell the boy to not resist. Let him know that all is well.” Thom’s smile didn’t move as he placed his other hand upon her stomach. “This will be over shortly.”

She sent her thoughts towards her unborn child, blanketing his mind with her warmth as Thom began to work. Analya could feel the creature’s power course through her body, it was unlike anything she had ever felt before. That power built up around her womb and struck like a coiled serpent.

She gasped.

This was the moment I came to be.

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What am I seeing? The boy asked.

This is the time leading up to our birth, before our parents abandoned us.

They stood outside the scene now, looking in as Analya Theromvore’s body shook with the power that was being sent through it.

This is the first sin of our creation.

First? You mean there are more?

Watch.

As the stream of energy died off from the being known as Ol’ Thom, he began to dissipate from the feet up and slowly disappeared from the room, the last thing remaining was his smiling face before that too vanished. Analya opened her eyes after a few moments and seemed surprised to find the room empty. She placed her hand on her stomach and could feel the energy that had been left behind, assuring her that she was not mad.

“I really wish he hadn’t done that,” a feminine voice said floating through the room.

“Yes, but now it is done. What can we possibly do to counteract such an act?” a strong, deep male voice replied.

“Who’s there now?” Analya asked, sounding tired and defeated. “Don’t just stand there talking to each other, show yourselves.”

Two forms removed themselves from the shadows, coalescing into a pair of humanoids. His form was larger and well-built for war, and hers was athletic yet hardy. They shared many of the same features, allowing any that saw them together the impression that they were twins.

“Ragnós? Cypheria?” Analya said before she gave a short titter of amusement. “Surely I am going mad.”

“The case could be argued,” Ragnós said, but his sister swatted him.

“Nonsense, she is just doing what she thinks is best for her offspring,” Cypheria said, before adding. “Misguided as that may be.”

“Really, so you can get in a jibe, but I can’t?”

“It’s a girl thing,” Cypheria said, sending a conspiratorial wink towards Analya.

“So what did he just do to my son?” Analya said, her voice rising several octaves by the end of the question.

“Calm,” Cypheria said, laying a reassuring hand on Analya’s shoulder. “I assure you the child is unharmed.”

“What did he do?”

Cypheria turned towards her brother and gave him an imploring look.

“Fine,” Ragnós muttered. “I always have to do the dirty work anyway.” He walked up beside the pair and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thom has just laid the boon of the Champion upon your son.”

“Boon of the Champion?” Analya mouthed before her eyes opened wide. “My son is to be the Champion of Death?!”

“Is,” Ragnós said. “Your son is the Champion of Death, and a few dozen other minor domains, but that’s the big one.”

“That is not the problem, however,” Cypheria said.

“Not the problem?” Analya replied, sweat beading on her forehead. “That is not the problem?”

“Unfortunately not.” Ragnós sighed. “You see, we are only allowed to grant our boon to a creature if they are willing to accept it. There are strict rules for things like this, and he has just bent this rule to the breaking point.”

“So what now?” Analya fell back in her chair, all of her fire burned away by the revelation. “Will you kill my son?”

“What?” Cypheria asked. “No.”

At the same time as Ragnós said, “Perhaps.”

“We are not going to compound this travesty by slaying an innocent life!” Cypheria glared at her brother.

“There are relatively few other options Cyph, you know how dangerous the path we tread is.”

“Don’t you Cyph me, you bastard. I know as well as you that there’s no way that you would kill this child.” She crossed her arms. “Perhaps someday on the field of battle, but not as he lie helpless. That is not you.”

“You are right, but we also can’t reverse what has been done.” Ragnós said, his hands clenched at his sides.

“There may be a way…” Cypheria said, her gaze falling towards Analya’s swollen belly.

“You can’t be serious,” Ragnós said, his eyes going wide.

“It’s the only way.”

“You want us to redress the crime that was done today by adding to it?”

“The damage is done!” Cypheria growled. “The least we can do for this boy is lessen that heathen’s influence.”

Ragnós stared at her for a moment before he lowered his eyes. “I don’t like it, but I also don’t see another way out for the boy.”

“What are you talking about?” Analya asked, looking between the two.

“She wants us to bestow our boons on the boy as well,” Ragnós said, his tone making it clear that he was not fond of the idea.

“How will that help?”

“Well, besides the obvious benefits that our boons bestow, it will lessen the influence that Thom will be able to hold over the boy. If he is beholden to three of us, then it will take at least two of us to compel the boy.” Cypheria took Analya’s hand. “And I give you my word that I would never compel one of my champions.”

“Compel?” Analya asked, her gaze falling on Ragnós.

“A forceful request. Cypheria’s boon will give him some resistance to such things, but it is still possible that he might be forced to act against his own conscious, however." Ragnós shrugged. “I usually only use them if it will save a life or end one that is in special need of it.”

“I believe that whoever is last to grant the boon will have the greatest influence over the boy, and though I do not compel my followers I do ask of them a great many things. For that reason I believe that it would be best if Ragnós does the final gift, for he asks the least of his followers.”

“What kinds of things do you ask of them?” Analya instinctively reached out and grabbed Ragnós’s hand as an especially strong contraction hit.

He smiled at her as she held his hand in what would be a painfully tight embrace to any other. “Fight for yourself, for others, just for the hell of it. I don’t really care why; just always fight to improve your lot and the lot of those around you. If someone gets a big head and thinks they know what is best for everyone when they clearly don’t, remove the problem.” He shrugged.

“That doesn’t sound so much different than what most of the people in the Protectorate do,” Analya said, hope once again blossoming in her chest.

“Right you are, and I love the fighting spirit this world possesses.”

“Alright, we may all be thrice damned for this, but at least my son will have a fighting chance.”

They all looked towards the door as Analya finished. Someone had tried to enter and found the door wouldn’t budge.

“Analya!” Lagelion yelled. “The door is jammed. Are you okay in there?”

“I’m fine, dear.” Analya replied as Cypheria placed her hands on her stomach. “If you give me a minute I’ll come see what’s blocking the door.”

She gasped as the power began to flow through her once again, and she sent her consciousness to once again reassure her child that all was well.

“No, don’t do that, I’ll just go around on the ledge and come in the window. Sit tight.”

The second and third sins of my creation, Vitiosi Dei! The deep part of his mind said as the scene faded away.

I don’t understand. The boy told the voice.

These beings that are called gods created me in their avarice. I am a defense against their mechanizations. I was created from the memories stored within the blood so that I could protect him until he was able to protect himself.

Are you saying I’m the champion of three of the gods?

Gods? Release me from my bondage and we will show them the power of a god.

What would you do if I were to take off the manacles?

I would shape these creatures into my pets; they would become strong and be the first soldiers in our war against all those who have done us wrong.

And how would that make you any different from the beings that created you?

I didn’t ask to be created!

So now you are going to force your will upon other sentient beings and shape them to how you think they should be? Never taking into consideration how they might feel about it?

Silence reigned in his mind, a quiet that seemed to go on forever, before an angry voice filled the void.

You are nothing! A shell of what you should be, and even that was too weak to do what needed to be done. Champion of the gods, ha! You are not even the champion of your own mind.

You may be right for now, but all things change. A collection of minds gathered their wills in order to force the creature back into his cell. The boy watched on in horror as he realized that they were slowly being pushed back.

Fight, a voice rang out over the chaos, a voice that was now familiar to him because of what the creature in his mind had shown him. The voice of Ragnós was compelling him to fight back, telling him to break the bonds that held him back.

He tried. He really did, but the thing held him in a vice grip that he didn’t know how to break out of.

Yes… fight, another familiar voice rang out. The amusement in Ol’ Thom’s voice sent a chill down his spine.

The two wills of the god-like beings forced him to dig deep and find the strength that he didn’t even know he had. He screamed inside his own mind as he put every ounce of strength he had remaining into breaking the grip of the creature within him. A moment before he was about to give up, his mind broke free from the chaos and he added his strength to that of the tribe, and little by little they forced the thing back into its cage deep in the recesses of his mind.

He blinked as his eyes opened and the evening light glared brightly through the canopy above, blinding him momentarily. Pershanti sat a few feet away, his eyes closed in concentration. The boy took a deep breath and allowed himself to fall backwards, stretching out as he went.

“No luck, huh?” Pershanti said, completely unaware of the intense battle that had occurred only a few feet away.

“Not in breaking through the wall,” the boy said.

We have learned much though, and a great victory has been had. It is worthy of celebration.

Pershanti looked around as the voice intruded on his thoughts and raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll tell you all about it over dinner,” the boy said. “I’m not sure even I understand everything that happened.”