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Katra
Chapter 18 3/3

Chapter 18 3/3

“You have a plan for us to escape, I presume?”

I force a smile, “Something like that.”

“Well, what is it?”

Thinking for a second, I say, “I’m pretty sure there is no way to take one of the ships, it’s just not possible. So, I think our only option is to sink one. Steal the Sky Gem and crash the ship”

Kamar chuckles, “And how would we survive the crash?”

I shake my head, “I don’t know, it was only an idea.”

The asper looks out of the bars again, a thoughtful look on his face. “It could work, Steel bodies can take a beating. Though I don’t know how you would survive, if you really are a Bronze.”

I shake my head, “I’m not lying, I have an ability that provides me with a boost of strength. And I have a hard time controlling it as well.”

Kamar looks at me like I am crazy, but doesn’t push any further. “I suppose we can cushion our fall with blankets, and the sand should help a bit.”

“Sand?”

“These are Tuskite Slavers, right? Well, they will probably most likely be bringing us into Rua.”

I blink, sitting back. I hadn’t thought about that. Well there go my plans for Osmun. Can’t worry about that right now though.

Kamar continues. “The only other problem with your plan is that we would have to somehow get to the Sky Gem. Through both Slaver crews and past the Steel container that the Gem is housed in.”

I nod, “I know. Do you think you can get the container open?”

Kamar motions to his larger pair of arms, chained behind his back. “Not like this. The inscriptions on the manacles are draining my strength, I can probably use a third of my normal strength.”

I sit back, closing my eyes and thinking. The shackles don’t hinder my katra flow, and the pirates don’t know that. This is one advantage I have.

Would it be possible to get Volans? To fly off the ship? No, after all the trouble Felton went to get it I doubt he would let it out of his sight. He probably is going to sleep with the thing.

There is the rest of the surviving crew of the Sky Fisher. But I can’t see them being too much help. And they are broken, the loss of Corazon made their moral plummet.

It starts sinking in. This is hopeless. There are just too many pirates, we are miles above the ground, I am only a Truebronze. No! I can’t think like this.

I grab these dismal thoughts are toss them in the burning flame inside myself. Fueling my desire to grow stronger and to get vengeance.

What of my katra? I surely can do something with it. The idea of setting fire to the ship comes to mind, but I toss it out. It would be more likely we all burned and died before even hitting the ground.

How about the plant manipulation? The thought comes briefly. But I don’t know if it would work in the real world. For all I know it might have been a one time thing.

I move to my core and check the Gray Life katra I have left. I blink. That entire thing took a good chunk out of my stores.

So, I’m assuming that I can do it again, is it worth it?

There is no way, to my knowledge, to replenish this type of Gray katra. Even if I were to do it, where would I find a live plant up here?

What about seeds? I am sure the Sky Fisher would have some in its stores. No, that wouldn’t work. Any live seeds would have been killed in the drying process. So I can’t use any plants.

I ask Kamar, still with my eyes closed, “How long do you think it will take us to get into Rua?”

He grunts, “Probably two days, and add four more days for getting to the Tuskite capital.”

Six days to find a way to escape, or become a slave.

Would it be possible for me to use something other than a plant? If I could use the Gray Life katra to shape the Plant katra, maybe I could use it shape some other type?

I try to think of what living thing that has some kind of katra in it I have on hand.

Maybe a slab of meat? No, the pirates aren’t going to feed us. It takes a second for that to sink in. They probably weren’t going to feed us, because on general, people were at least at the Steel stages. With a Steel body came great strength and durability, and immunity to your type of katra, and also a stronger energy storage system. And a normal human body can go three days without water… but a Steel can go up to a week without it.

So I am in a bad spot if I don’t find water within three days. I doubt that my Gray Water katra will sate my thirst. I’ve got to escape soon or I will die.

My thoughts go back to finding someway to escape quickly. What do I have on hand that might contain the energy or soul necessary to use my new ability?

I have my blood.

When one gets a Steel body, it converts and changes everything to suit your Katra aspect better, strengthening everything. But the body also gathers ambient types of vital arua, most notably a offshoot of Water vital arua, Blood vital arua. It was theorized that it can be turned into Blood aspect katra, but other than that, the effects are unknown.

Could I manipulate my own blood into something like the spider? If I could make something that was able to sneak into the heart of the airship and disable the Sky Gem, I would be able to crash the ship.

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I think I could do it. After all, my blood is a part of me, and therefore would contain some part of my soul, right?

I was grasping at strings here and I knew it. Looking for some spark of hope to have a chance to escape. Even if my ability works in the real world, I would need a lot of blood.

My gaze wanders over to Kamar. He’s pretty big, he’s bound to have a lot of blood to spare.

I shake my head. Might as well see if it works.

Looking at my hands, one bandaged in black, the other calloused, I think of a way to get blood. There’s nothing sharp in here. Except…

Channeling my Gray katra into my arm, I will the gauntlet to come into being. The milky white substance boils up from the cloth, hardening into the bone gauntlet.

I look at the sharp clawed finger tips of it, they glint dully in the dim light of the cell.

Kamar raises a large eyebrow, “How’d you do that?”

I mumble, “I’m still not sure.”

Then I hold out my left hand, palm up. Lowering my right index finger, I jab deeply into my skin, the point puncturing after I apply pressure. Raking the claw along my palm, I open a large gash in my skin.

Stopping the flow of katra to my arm, the gauntlet melts back into the bandages. Blood wells up from the large gash in my hand, I hold it out and let drops splatter on the floor boards.

Doesn’t hurt that much. Not compared to everything else. This small gash compared to having a spear go straight through my shoulder and having my stomach shredded is nothing.

“What in the hells are you doing?” Kamar asks, his expression worried. He probably thinks I’ve lost it.

Once the board has a large puddle of blood on it, slowly seeping into the wood, I stop. Closing my hand, I hold it near my chest, sending katra to it. I arrange the katra around the gash, sealing it up. I hope that the healing ability still works.

I dip my right index finger into the puddle, closing my eyes.

Moving my mind’s eye inwards, I draw the Gray Life imprinted katra from the crust of my core. Moving it into my channels, I guide it to my finger.

When what I deem an adequate amount colescesses in my finger, I stop. Focusing, I will it outside of my body and into the blood.

My awareness spreads with my Gray katra, and soon it has completely filled the pool. The Gray Life katra mixes with the blood, much like it did with the Plant katra.

Here goes nothing. I form a picture in my mind, conjuring up the one I used for the spider. I tweak it, removing all the plant bits. I replace it with a hardened exoskeleton of blood, forming layers of plated armor.

For a instant, my mind wanders to the many emotions and thoughts of what will happen if this doesn’t work. I’ll become a slave, stuck in chains.

I conjure up that deep, cold burning flame of vengeance inside me, tossing these emotions into it.

All this thinking of blood flashes the images of that creature feasting upon the woman’s body, and the sea of corpses, streams of blood flowing from them.

Focus!

Then I focus back on the image, tweaking it.

I push the image onto the Life katra and blood. I have to concentrate on every bit, like I did with the plant spider.

I sit there, my finger submerged in the crimson puddle, trying to imprint the image. More Life katra flow unbidden from my core, to help fuel the process. It must take more because I’m doing this in the real world.

The Gray Life katra flows through my channels and down my arm, escaping out through my finger and into the blood.

Then I feel the image settle, combining with the blood. But there is a strange feeling when it does, like something got mixed up, but I ignore it.

Excited, I open my eyes and look at the puddle. There, made of dark blood, stands a four legged spider.

It worked!

I spoke too soon. The blood collapses in on itself, falling back to the floor with a plop. I can feel all the Life katra I used disperss, escaping from my control.

The only words I can form are, “Oh.”

Then the image is thrown back at me, and it hits hard. The backlash whips my head back and into the wall, a massive fissure of a headache forming in my mind.

I groan, clutching my head with my hands. I hear Kamar say something, and it takes me a second to figure it out. “What did you just do?”

Why is everything so bright now? I squint my eyes against the now blindly painful light. Through my slitted eyes I can see Kamar shifting over to me.

I feel his smaller arm rest on my shoulder.

The only response I can make is a, “Uuuggghhh.”

Then I close my eyes fully, sinking into the depths of unconsciousness.

My last through echoes through my mind. Gods, just when I thought I was getting used to pain!

***

I rub the sleep from my eyes, blinking. Everything is blurry at first, then it clears up.

I stand in a vast space, all of it shrouded in darkness. There is no light, a defining silence rings in my ears.

“Where…?” I rub my head, trying to think of how I got here. Right… The blood.

There is a rumble and I stumble, barely staying on my feet. Light shines down from above, and I look up.

There, above my head sits The Origin, only now it looks different. It is a clear sphere, tiny beams of light hitting the direct center and obscuring the object that lies inside it.

I follow the path of the streams of multicolored light, they connect to various runes, which circle around the Origin in an ever shifting pattern. They never seem to hit each other, always missing by a fraction of an inch.

If I’m here… Where is Sol? I look around, trying to find the giant, floating eyeball. I can’t spot him, so I shout. “Hello?!”

My voice echoes through the vast space I stand in, eventually quieting.

I scan the ever shifting runes, trying to see if I can find the sparks of his telltale arrival. Nothing.

A deep cold seeps into my bones, both from temperature and from something else. The hairs on the back of my neck raise, goosebumps forming along my arms.

My breath comes out in a cloud of mist, dissipating in seconds.

I don’t like this. My hand goes to my spear on reflex, but all I find is cold air.

There is the jingle of chains, the stomp of a set of boots.

I spin around, facing the sound.

A crimson mist boils itself up from the floor, it quickly reaches past my knees, then waist, all the way up to my shoulders and past my head. A coppery tang fills the air, and I can taste iron in my mouth.

Dew quickly forms, crystallizing from the cold. I look at my arm, and it takes me a second to realize that the dew isn’t dew, but blood.

The jingle of chains nears, I look up, my body tensing into a fighting position.

A boot appears from the fog of blood, red frost creeping up its steel tipped toe. Then another boot, they walk methodically towards me. I follow them up dark crimson pant legs, covered in leather and iron.

There stands a man before me. He wears armor that is a mix between metal and leather, not a inch of his skin bare. A crimson hood is pulled up over his head, puffs of icy breath coming out of it. I can’t see his face or anything from within the hood.

His entire frame is covered in rusted chains. They curl around his arms, ending in broken links. His chest is wrapped in the chains, along with his legs. They jingle with each step he takes, blood frozen onto them.

Then the chained apparition stops 3 feet away from me.

My muscles creak as I ready to fight. I growl out, “Who are you?”

With a jingle of rusted chains, the figure slowly bends over, falling to one knee. It bows its head, looking at the ground. A voice that rings hollow speaks, sending chills up my spine. “I am Vengeance, Ruler of Chains, Bearer of Frost, Harbinger of Crimson. Born from the Blood of The Progenitor. And I greet my father.”