Chapter 5

Widdershins

‘Cogs, short for precognitive, those who can see and predict the future are tough, for they know roughly how you are most likely going to act at any given certain stimuli in a particular moment in time.

Take for instance the showing of an invaluable jewel that upon touching will fuse power into your body and apply random powers of a given element, in this case the element of Light, and nine times out of ten you have a completely compliant person in this operation.

The operation in this case was something that Arla herself wanted. As the task to get such a priceless object, one that could be used, sold, or bartered for was something she wanted to do in the first place. For in this particular instance, she was clearly dealing with one person who she had previously established a permanent connection with, one where she received a permanent stream of Attribute and Experience bonuses from everything they did after meeting her.

Which given his current prowess and seeming rise to power and fame was quite a lot, even at her reduced rates.

Then add to that, the fact that all she had to do was once again create such an innocuous bond with this ‘Cogs’ daughter and one could see the appeal. Arla would almost do this for free under normal circumstances, thus why she now found herself hesitating.

Almost immediately Marcon’s words rang out in Arla’s mind, warning her of the gravity of such a situation.

Monkeys can be caught in simple traps, because they refuse to let go of the bait, Marcon’s eighth law.

This was a law that Arla had to be show, about how indigenous hunters would find a dead tree, hollow out the insides, and then leave only one spot where a hand or arm can reach through into the hollowed out portion. From there, the hunter would take a piece of sweet melon into the hollow and leave.

After time, the monkeys would come, drawn to the fragrant scent of their favorite foods, then reach their hand into the small opening, grab the treat, and then promptly find that their clenched fist was too big to exit the container.

Arla then watched as the hunters would come back, laugh, and get right next to the primate. Though scared, and realizing that they needed to leave, the primate would never think of letting go of the treat to escape.

It was a valuable life lesson for Arla, and one that she suddenly remembered with crystal clarity.

The fact that this memory of all the others came to her as she reached towards the glowing stone flashed a warning in Arla’s mind.

This was her Cerusian instinct, something she could not understand before, but now she did.

Instantly, Arla realized three things.

First, she needed to gain control over the situation with the ‘Cog. Never an easy task, particularly when she was already in their well-prepared lair and scenario.

This whole situation spoke volumes of needing to rely heavily on Marcon’s training for just such a situation.

Second, Arla realized that she needed to bind the daughter to her, if for nothing more than needing to have some form of promise that the daughter would try to keep her alive, or at least not actively seek her death, like the father. This didn’t mean that they would be friends, for even now, Arla could tell that this was clearly an advantageous position for Mr. Fortuna, not that she couldn’t win in this scenario.

If Mr. Fortuna was completely above board and altruistic this would be ideal, but life was never ideal and Arla was too old and jaded now to start believing in the altruism of others.

This of course led Arla to her third major goal, she needed that stone.

She couldn’t sell it, as all her trainings taught her. A fistful of cash is always appreciated over a handful of illegal items and all, but in this case, Arla would not sell the item, regardless of price.

All of these thoughts flashed in her mind, as she swore for a moment, she could almost see the end of this whole scenario. It was as if her mind momentarily shut off, or went dark, as she for a moment imagined avoiding the glowing org.

It was a brief moment, one that Arla chalked up to being a ploy. For this was a trap by Mr. Fortuna, but she would easily escape. Before she left, she would apply a seal to the daughter, gain the stone that was being taken away, fuse with the power of the stone and then leave.

These moments flashed through her mind in an instant, some so quick she could hardly register them. But they were there nonetheless. This only seemed to further Arla’s assumptions that she was in fact working with a ‘Cog right now. For only a ‘Cog could create such a stone or have one clearly in their open palm and not have it begin to dissolve almost immediately.

Instantly, Arla realized she had already broken the ninth of Marcon’s laws.

Find a mark, lest you become the mark.

Looking around, she saw Ms. Fortuna occasionally making nervous glances in her direction. This could show a sign that she felt nervous, which she did, for whatever reason. That said, such emotional distresses were easy enough to fake, Arla knew she had done such acting in her past. In fact, she was an adept at Projecting her own emotions.

With Marcon’s Ninth Law in mind, Arla quickly took on the persona she needed to survive.

In the span of two steps, Arla took a deep breath, which she used to take on a regal position, and projected strength and confidence. Even going so far as to willfully break eye contact with the glowing stone that pulsed and radiated energy in micro bursts towards her, as if beckoning her the way a kraken would lure ancient ships at sea.

Smirk.

Seeing her sudden change, Mr. Fortuna smiled, a sign that he had expected this outcome.

This was fine, as it meant the true dance of power was about to begin.

In this case, Arla made her way around Mr. Fortuna, further entering the space time equivalent of a panic room, and proceeded to prowl around the now seated Ms. Fortuna.

Gooseflesh.

As Arla approached Ms. Fortuna, there was an obvious stream of chills that ran down the girl’s back at her intimidating presence. This was good, as it was clearly something she had not been prepared for. With the daughter not prepared, it meant that the father had not deemed this a lesson to train her to be prepared for.

This was one of the tricks needed to beat a ‘Cog at their own game.

As she looked from the daughter, back to the father who was still smirking, but his smile was forced. He strode forward to close the distance between the two of them, but it was clear he was now slightly off put by the fact that his daughter now rested squarely in between himself and Arla.

This was good, as this was a scenario he had not expected.

The reason for this lack of expectation was simple, as it was one of the actions Arla was least likely to do normally. An outlier of actions, Arla often preferred to play the role of the meek, to be underestimated. But in this case, she went the exact opposite of her normal options, she was taking control of the situation, and thereby providing stimuli that the ‘Cog was now using and trying to get ahead of.

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Even now, Arla could see a faint golden tint to the eyes of Ms. Fortuna, a clear alias name that would likely change no less than three times before the next port.

Still in the role of the dominatrix, or the one who would exert power over the situation, Arla placed her hands on the back of the couch, right behind where the daughter sat.

Instantly, the daughter leaned forward, away from Arla, and then turned back to look at Arla. From her periphery, Arla could see the look of fear in the girl’s face, it was clear that if Arla wanted she could strike out now.

In fact, Arla prepared to lash out, infusing energy into her hands, thanks to her [Support- Temporary] Spirit Infusion.

Sizzle.

Instantly her hands burned deep finger gouges into the upholstery of the couch. This caused immediate fear to rise up from the daughter who all but tried to leave the couch. Only a hand raised by the father stopped her.

“No need to worry, Ms. Proma here was just making a point,” Mr. Fortuna said, his tone filled with faux confidence and regality that hit that just right tone of aristocracy that one would expect from new money.

“I believe you have made your point loud and clear, no one here is debating your lethality,” Mr. Fortuna continued, his tone picking up more confidence the more he spoke.

Switching gears and personas, Arla let out some of her previous rigidity to her spine and took on a more neutral posture.

Once again, Mr. Fortuna’s eyes glowed, as he once again tried to make a read of these new changes that were occurring.

Whether Mr. Fortuna was aware that Arla could see his use of his powers did not matter, and whether this vision was a byproduct of their clear soul union, or a function of Arla’s Cerusian heritage bleeding through, or a combination thereof was almost impossible to tell. All Arla did know, was that this was what she needed to do, in order to stay ahead of Mr. Fortuna.

For all powers had a tax to them. Energy cannot be created nor destroyed, just altered. That same principle is what governed the use of powers.

By forcing someone as powerful as Mr. Fortuna claimed to be, to constantly use their powers, she would drain him.

“Let me guess, you intend to keep draining me, to force me to use my energy over and over again, until you achieve what you want?” Mr. Fortuna asked, apparently seeing this very fate in one future timeline.

Arla tried to imagine a scenario where this would happen, when she would tell what she had done and why. It wouldn’t be here, meaning she would either be held captive, or she would have told the daughter her plans in the future and that would be relayed back to the father. Either scenario didn’t help, but it did show that he was currently using these powers beyond just today.

Hmm.

That was all Arla gave, as she again changed, this time reaching up to a seemingly innocuous looking button on her suit, where she then pressed and provided enough of her [Crafting- Permanent] Spirit Infusion energy into the button to cause the rune to light up. This was done while she carefully placed her hand over her heart and bowed silently.

Everything done as misdirection and in complete silence. The silence was another tactic for a ‘Cog, as it meant that she was not actually engaging in the conversation, making future readings just that much more difficult to read. A lot can be gained by word choice, tone, and intonation, by her refusing to provide these for building points, she also countered the ‘Cog’s natural advantage.

Again though, to Arla, the most important part was the misdirection.

To Arla, the blazing rune looked like she had placed a torch on her chest. Yet, neither the father nor daughter seemed to notice.

It was a cat and mouse game, one where Arla’s only real goal was to be able to escape with cheese.

The fact that the ‘Cog had not reacted violently yet, could be due to a number of reasons, but the most likely of which was that he would not do anything to Arla, until her services had been rendered.

Of course, waiting for this too was in Arla’s best interest, for the longer she waited to perform the necessary bonding act with the daughter, the theoretically safer she was.

While she knew the ‘Cog would not directly try to kill her, this did not negate the acts that Marcon had spoken about to her, the reason why everything had to be misdirection and a game.

Rumble.

“Ah, that should be the crew putting us on our own direct liner that will take us straight to the Military Academy in Maralla,” Mr. Fortuna stated.

At that Arla could only nod, if she had machinations of leaving, then she needed to make them quickly. A glance at the door showed that the room was hermetically sealed, and already prepared for space travel.

They were trapped, just the three of them. While there were only three life forms in here, that did not negate the idea that robots or other instruments of death were not waiting to be activated.

Glancing around, Arla could see no less than three potential candidates, the oddly ordinary book on the table, likely a auto targeting pistol that would be able to handle a standard clip, lest the device was modified.

To the top right corner, the one facing the entry way was another spring loaded weapon system. Then there was what had to be a bot within the couch itself.

Looking down at the burnt away upholstery, Arla could see the faint traces of metal, something that would be excessively uncomfortable, even with layers of thick foam padding. The only reason why someone as supposedly rich as Ms. Fortuna would have such a couch was if it was a mini tank, one that would create a protective capsule around the daughter.

This would explain why Mr. Fortuna was adamant that the daughter stay on the couch, despite the obvious provocation. Such a couch would be hard for most to detect, but it almost stood out to her heightened senses easily. This was another quirk of the Tribal blood within her, part of what made her people such fierce warriors, as they could enter a room and instantly note where all the attack vectors were.

While Arla had not yet recognized all of the hidden defensive components in the room, Arla now praised her instincts, one that told her to go behind the couch. An apparent metal couch that could protect her from both the gun book on the coffee table, and the hidden defensive machine gun by the doorway.

From here, all she would have to do was disable the couch, which she was fairly certain she could accomplish in time.

Still, Marcon would have been mad that she hadn’t immediately recognized all of the traps first, and gone to the location as part of the plan. Instead, she now found herself here out of what one could mostly call dumb luck.

Though was it luck, or was it something more?

Peering back at Mr. Fortuna, Arla could see his glowing eyes once again at work. Though now he too gave away the three defensive armaments in this saferoom.

No wait, Arla saw the faintest flicker of an eye to her left, Mr. Fortuna’s right and then she saw it, a complementary but off-set defensive turret. This one was hidden inside a breakaway brace for a bookshelf.

The off-set defensive turret was a unique design that seemed to specifically target humans and creatures that like symmetry. By having an off-set, that is a weapon that would hid on an opposite side, but at a different elevation, or location from noted markers, the human eye was more likely to overlook such an anomaly. Noting one, but not the other.

In this case, the off-set structure of the secondary door and room protection turret had done its job. Again, showing Arla just how outmatched she was in this situation.

Inwardly she winced at the find, even letting her own admonition that she had not noticed the fourth protective measure. While the couch she was currently behind would still block shots from the off-set turret, it would have been nice for her to expect fire from that side as well.

With that, Arla gave a quick glance behind her, but found that she was safe from behind. This was meant to keep unwanted intruders out, and not necessarily quell any uprisings from within. Good to know.

Taking one last glance at the daughter, Arla once again tried to access if she would be a threat. Her mind told her that she needed to always treat her as a potential threat, but her rational mind told her that she wanted this transaction, more than Arla wanted a safe ride to Maralla.

Again, so many threads of thoughts went through her mind, as she wondered how Mr. Fortuna knew she was heading to Maralla. The most obvious reason was that he was a ‘Cog and quite powerful, but there almost seemed to be something deeper to the thought.

Glance.

Looking at Mr. Fortuna, Arla once again glanced at the glowing orb from within his hands.

Pulse.

Just looking at the orb, Arla felt a surge of energy go from the orb to her.

Visions.

Just glancing at the orb, and its spiraling cacophony of power, Arla knew she needed that orb.

Chills.

Even with a couch separating her from obvious trouble, she knew she had to have that orb. Which was why she now found herself fighting so desperately to keep space between her and Mr. Fortuna.

“You really want this don’t you?” Mr. Fortuna asked, that same confident smile filling his face.

Deep breath.

While Arla could hide her emotions, she knew that the more she gave off, the more Mr. Fortuna would feel in control.

“Here, I will place this right here,” Mr. Fortuna stated, reaching forward and purposefully placing the orb right on top of the book. A book that would come to life and fire a clip of pulse infused bursts directly into her if she was noted as a threat.

Seeing Arla’s obvious hesitation, Mr. Fortuna nodded to himself.

“You know, I know how this will all end,” Mr. Fortuna stated, sitting back in the single seat that sat directly across from the coffee table, and the couch that held the daughter, and served as the only form of protection for Arla. Then as if to show his complete confidence and safety, Mr. Fortuna sat back in his chair and then languidly placed his feet up on the table.

Swoosh.

In that moment, a number of things all happened at once.

Events transpired, in ways that Arla could only see and expect by yet another glance at the strange mystical orb. An orb that almost appeared sentient in Arla’s mind. Or maybe it was something deeper, a calling of the magic held within, something that was hinted at in her Cerusian studies, but something that was never stated. In fact, it was only a theory that Arla herself came up with, but when asked if she had any questions, she just shook her head too afraid to ask a question that had been plaguing her.

Looking into that orb, Arla found herself wondering what would have happened had she asked her Cerusian test provider that very question, was magic truly alive?

Then before the forgotten memory had a chance to bloom within her mind and completely dull her senses to the current moment, things happened.

The arrogant Mr. Fortuna plopped his feet up on the table. This placement caused a minor shuffle and vibration, as the book jostled just slightly, causing the orb to role ever so minutely.

Then seeing his action, Mr. Fortuna saw his mistake, withdrawing his foot, thereby causing more vibrations to the table. Vibrations that caused the orb to gain enough inertia to roll forward.

At which point the ball seemed to gain some cognizance on its own, as Arla could almost feel the energy shove hard against its smooth crystalline container, before rolling forward, off the table and directly under the couch.

For a moment, everything seemed way too orchestrated, too perfect, as even now Arla could see the ball glowing brightly from under the couch as it seemed to gain speed and roll forward, before stopping at Arla’s foot.

The entire thing seemed too perfect, a setup orchestrated by Mr. Fortuna. Yet, his look of shock on his face at the odd stream of events seemed to speak that even he had not seen this set of circumstances.

Seeing the orb all alone and rolling at her feet, Arla found herself reaching down to grab the orb.

As she reached, she swore she could see waves of golden energy splashing around the container and violently reaching towards her.

The moment her hand touched the orb, she felt the crystal shatter, something that was not supposed to happen. These crystals were supposed to be drained away and then left to be refilled, the fact that one broke was unheard of, even the low grade ones were only low grade due to how much energy they could maintain. Yet, this one clearly had ampules of energy stored up and waiting to be used.

Pain.

Not only did the orb shatter, but she felt parts of the orb violently burst as it surged forward, with crystalline shards of shrapnel piercing her hand and allowing the streams of golden energy to fuse directly into and through her skin.

The energy itself also seemed to act oddly, as if it was attracted to her.

Idly, Arla remembered her button that she activated, the one that would react to Light energy, and hopefully make it harder for Mr. Fortuna to read her future, but this was different. At least, it was different from what she had expected.

As the highly concentrated energy of Precognition infused Light energy entered her body, Arla instantly felt her mind shatter, or split into thirds.

In a second, she felt three distinct but linked timelines all coming together and converging on this one moment, before refracting outward.

Instantly, she felt she could see the world as a Precognitive could. She could see her past choices, that all led to now, and the future that was all but inevitable based on where she was now, and what she had done.

Pausing, she experienced the whole of the future, before she found herself acting and reacting in the past and future as well. She even got a system message informing her of the new changes she now felt coursing through her.

Light Power [Broken-Permanent] Unbound Time Vision: User can view events in time as reactive events that lead to a permanent fixed outcome in the future.

With this new power, Arla felt her mind bending and twisting. Her vision felt like it was beginning to alter, as she felt herself becoming unbound by the linearity of time.