Chapter 5:
37 Days After Fall’s Beginning
138 Days After The Ra’tok Attack Amia Village
Coskana, Trade City of The Traezar Empire
Trading House Ventos, Main Branch
The clamor of the city is deafening to me. Traders hawk their wares, boasting the best prices and exotic items. Shops with large, colorful signs and big, fancy writing are everywhere. The delicious smells of roasting meat and other food overlay the smell of waste and unwashed bodies. People of many shapes walk along the roads, large beasts pull carriages and wagons to market.
It is an overload on my senses. I can’t take enough of it in, my head snapping back and forth, looking at everything.
This is amazing!
My gaze is transfixed as I watch a man in light armor walks by, glowing red wings folded behind him. It takes me a second to realize that they are attached to him.
A gold sacred artist.
I duck as a shadow flies over my head, a habit from the jungle, glancing up and tightening my grip on my spear. A woman riding a green cloud of Katra zips past.
I let go of my spear, resting it in my lap.
Might have to work on that. If I even look hostile to any of these people, they might just kill me for it.
Sariel guides the wagon off the main road and away from the main thoroughfare.
Looking at all the buildings, the curving, tiled roofs of red clay roofs catch my attention. They have curving edges and many of the buildings have a second floor. Signs outside doors and windows proclaim the shops’ names and products.
“We are coming up on the main branch of House Ventos. Remember the House Head may want to meet you, so don't forget what I taught you.” Sariel says with a comforting smile. “You will be fine.”
My throat tightens up at the thought of the House Head. Even though Ventos was a trading house, it’s Head was Truegold. Vicar was only a Lowgold, and he was able to fight a Rage Drake to a stand still.
Every rank in the sacred arts got exponentially harder to achieve, and most can't get past Silver. Diamond was the peak in the sacred arts. Above that was unfathomable.
It took a great amount of resources, time and skill to get to Diamond.
As we went through the streets, the shops started turning into bigger houses, eventually turning into mansions with large swaths of green.
Sariel led the caravan into the courtyard of House Ventos.
It is a large mansion, with ornate and pleasing designs on the roof and walls. It is 4 floors by my counting and large stain glass windows cover the front. The courtyard is littered with topiary.
Stepping off the wagon, I follow behind Sariel. I use my spear as a walking stick, more out of force of habit than a need for it.
A boy flanked by 2 armored guards walked out to meet Sariel. He wore ornate clothes made of silk, pictures of a blue bird stitched into the dark blue fabric. His dark hair was bundled up behind him and his black, calculating eyes scanned over me.
He looked away from me, dismissing me almost immediately.
Raising his chin, he walked up to Sariel.
“Master Trader Sariel, you have returned. You are over two weeks late,” The haughty man said, stopping a few feet from us.
Sariel bows and I follow her example. She replies, “I am sorry, most esteemed young master, Norvan. We were held up for far too many reasons to count. But we have had a most profitable season, which I think you will find pleasing.”
“That is fine, Master Trader. My father has sent me to tell you that he would like to meet within the hour. He wants a full report on how the season went. That will be all.” Norvan turned his back on us, walking back into the mansion, the guards following faithfully behind.
“Who was that?” I quietly ask as Sariel walks back to the wagon.
“That was the House Head’s first son, Norvan. He’s a stuck up brat, but has a decent enough heart.” She hops up onto the wagon, looking down at me. “Go over to Vicar, you are in his care now. If the Head wants to see you, I will come find you.”
She whips the reins, spurring the draft horses on to the stables.
I walk over to where Vicar and his warriors are dismounting. He walks up with his helmet under his left arm, smiling. “Kardin! What do you think of Coskana?”
I glance out above the stone wall surrounding the mansion. “It is spectacular! I saw at least 5 golds. And there are so many people.”
Vicar laughs, hitting me on the back. I stumble at his strength, nearly losing my balance. Steel strength.
“We will be spending the night in an inn near here, then leaving at first light. I am going to go get our pay, you stay here.” Vicar walks over to the stables, where Sariel went.
I look at the warriors. They are all at least a head taller than me and far more muscled. I hadn’t spent much time talking to them, mostly staying to myself.
They wear chainmail with iron armor over it, giving protection and still allowing easy movement. They all have shields and a sword at their sides. The shields are large disks of iron, with intricate designs on the front. I would be unable to use such a shield, being that I do not have an Steel Body.
My gear, in comparison, consists of a spear with a sharpened tooth on the end, tied tightly to the shaft with leather strips. The only really good thing in my arsenal is the dagger I have in my backpack.
The warriors are chatting amongst themselves, but as I near them they fall silent.
I awkwardly wave and squeak out a, “Hi,”
The warriors burst out laughing, and I can't help but follow after them.
One of the warriors slings an arm over my shoulder, “You-your face was so serious! Then you-you just… Bahahahah!”
They eventually stop laughing, looking at each other ruefully. One of them points at my arm, “That power of yours saved my life, when you tripped the Rage Drake before it could attack me. My name is Karter, and thank you.” He bows slightly.
I bow back, “This one should be the one thanking you, for he would have surely died to the drake if you had not stepped in.”
Karter pats my shoulder, smiling.
“Come one, Karter, ask the question we all want to know!” One of the warriors says, a grin visible under his helm.
Karter leans in, saying quietly, “We are all wondering, what is the Jungle of The Gods like?”
I force a smile, “It’s a place of power and terror. Just about everything there wants to kill you.” I go on to recount what I had told Vicar and Sariel, leaving out Inik.
“So, those bandages are an Artifact? What does it it do?” Karter asks, looking at my right arm.
I shrug, holding it up, “I’m not really sure, all I know is that it can do this.” I push Katra into my hand, making the bandages rustle and shift, uncoiling 3 tendrils from my arm and making them wave in the air.
“Does it come off?” Karter asks, inspecting my arm with a critical eye.
I shake my head, cutting off the stream of Katra. “I have tried to take it off before, but it seems to be a part of me now.”
Vicar approaches, holding a bag of coins in his hand. “We got our pay, let's head out!” The warriors mount their horses.
Vicar hold out a hand, “You can ride with me, we will see about getting you something to ride.”
I mount behind him; he spurs the horse onward, and we head towards the inn.
***
There is a knocking on my door.
The sudden noise startles me and I instinctively reach for my spear. I relax after a second, dropping my hand.
I’m safe here. There is no reason to panic.
I get out of the chair, glancing over at Vicar. We are sharing a room together in the inn. He looks up and gets off his bed, walking over.
I open the door, glancing out to see Norvan standing there, being flanked by guards. He has a bored look upon his face and glances at me with disinterest.
“The Head of House Ventos would like to have dinner with Kardin Amia. He wishes to speak to you about your time with Sariel’s caravan.” Norvan turns around with a flutter of cloth, walking to the stairs out of the inn.
I look at Vicar, he smiles. “Don’t worry lad, nothing will happen to you. Now, go on.” He pushes me out the door.
Without much choice, I follow Norvan out of the inn.
The patrons down in the bar are quiet as they watch us leave, their eyes following us. I get the itch to grab my spear again and get ready to run, but I hold it down. I don't even have it with me.
Outside is a carriage, intricate designs carved carefully into the wood. Two large constructs are hitched to the front. They glow a muted yellow, looking like they are painted onto the world. Both look much like a ox. They make the sound of rumbling rocks instead of mooing, but do nothing else.
I step into the carriage behind Norvan, sitting uncomfortably across from him. He looks out the window of the carriage as it moves smoothly forward. A awkward silence ensues and lasts for a few minutes.
He says in an offhand tone, “Your arm is peculiar. It seems to be a complete absence of Katra, I cannot even see the scripts with my Silver sight.”
I think carefully before speaking, “This one does not understand it either, but he hopes to someday learn it’s true nature.”
Norvan nods, still not looking at me. “Tell me, how did you come across this artifact?”
“This one found it in a ruin, it attached itself to my arm and I have yet to figure out a way to get it off.”
He looks at me for the first time, his gaze calculating. “You found it within a ruin in the Jungle of Gods?”
I simply answer, “Yes, esteemed master Norvan.”
I get the uncomfortable feeling that he might know that I’m not telling all the truth. Sweat beads down my neck, but I try to stay calm.
Norvan looks back out the window, “It is most peculiar. I am interested in hearing the rest of your story at dinner.”
The carriage stops moving and I follow Norvan out. We are escorted through the halls of the mansion by the pair of guards. We stop in front of a plain wooden door. The halls of the mansion are covered in tapestries and paintings, large glass windows letting in the setting sunlight. Scones along the walls glow with balls of Katra.
Norvan steps into the room and I follow behind. When I enter I bow to the man at the head of the table. He has graying hair and a short beard, his dark eyes much like Norvan’s. What is most shocking about him is his Sign.
It spirals up his left arm, a light blue color. It looks much like a snake, but with the head of a bird, the head moves around separately from the man. As with many remnants, it is incorporeal, looking like it is painted onto the world. But the scales of the snake-bird meld with his flesh, giving it away as a Sign.
The man gestures at the chairs around the table, “You may sit.”
A few of the chairs are occupied. Sariel sits at the far end of the table. A boy that looks much like a younger version of Norvan sits next to a dark haired woman.
The woman sits to the left of the man, while Norvan sits to his right. Sariel sits next to an old man who is to Norvan’s right. The old man has a few wisps of hair on his head, but has a white beard that goes halfway down his chest. He smiles, revealing white teeth. A Sign much like the Head’s wraps around his arm.
I take a seat next to Sariel, following the instructions she gave me.
Bowing to the Head, I say, “How might this one serve, Head Nazar?”
Nazar leans forward, displaying a disarming smile, “I have been told by Sariel that you have a interesting story to tell. While we eat, I would like you to tell it.” Right at that moment the doors in the back of the room fly open, and a line of servants holding platters laden with food walk in.
Upon one plate was a giant, seasoned bird. Another holds a variety of fruits and vegetables. A plate of some type of sea creature is laid in front of me. It is a mash of various foods, each very different from another.
And the smell! It is a glorious mix of seafood, meat, veggies and fresh fruits. It creates a complex and layered aroma, filling the air.
There is so much food. I think there might be more here than I have ever seen in one place.
I wait for the Head to put food on his plate, then proceed to pile food onto my plate.
I am still rather skinny from my time in the Jungle. As I scoff food down, I slow as I look around.
Everyone at the table is looking at me, some in amusement and others in horror.
Sariel looks horrified, Norvan simply snorts and goes back to eating his modest meal of fruits and veggies with etiquette. The old man, former Head Tevan, chuckles.
“Are you sure you can eat all of that?” Tevan says, leaning to look at me better.
Oh god.
My hand goes instinctively to my spear at my side, grabbing only air.
The Head’s face is turning red, his expression twisting into something ugly.
My food, which I had been using my fingers to eat, falls back to my plate. “This one is sorry, he meant no disrespect.”
I start to get up to leave, but am interrupted by deep, booming laughter. Nazar is bent over his plate, laughing uncontrollably. He chokes and starts half coughing and laughing, banging the table with light taps of his hand.
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Baffled, I freeze.
I’m not sure what is going on.
Nazar holds his stomach, chuckling every few seconds, “It… It has been so long since I have laughed that hard!”
I bow in my seat, “This one does not understand, Head Nazar.”
Nazar waves away a servant who holds out a glass of water. “Never, never has anyone I invited to my table been so… so brazenly ravenous! And your expression after was gold!”
He takes a deep breath, a grin on his face, “They have all been stuck up, stiff bastards. Thinking they deserve every respect, while also wanting me to give them what they want and more! This was a nice refreshment.”
“Language dear!” The woman, the head’s wife, I asume, says. She lightly slaps Nazar on the arm. If I remember correctly from what Sariel told me, her name is Roseen.
I let out a breath of air I hadn’t realized I was holding, loosening my tensed muscles.
The Head sets his utensils to the side and picks up a chunk of chicken. He takes a large bite, chewing. Looking at me, he asks, “I would like you to tell me about your adventures in the Jungle of The Gods.”
Chowing down on the food, I slowly explain how my village was attacked. I leave out the parts of Karla and her father’s deaths. It gives me pause for a second.
Was it only 4 months ago? It feels like a lifetime.
I explain running in terror from predators and hiding, surviving on little food and water. How I got lost within the jungle and eventually stumbled upon some ruins. I explained how I found the Artifact on my arm under all the rubble.
Detailing how I built a small tree house up in the lower canopy, using parts of a old sacred beast skeleton for nails. How I used leaves for a bed and spending my nights up there, safe from what lurked on the jungle floor.
I talked about how I found the heating stone and various other artifacts in ruins, most of them broken.
Talking about how I hunted for low ranked beasts to kill and eat, going days without food. I put an emphasis on how many times I nearly died, crediting my survival to finding myself in a seemingly low ranked area.
I never mentioned Inik or the orb; how I suspected that he hunted the area regularly, keeping away higher level beasts.
I leaned back and let out a sigh. I rubbed my belly. I have never eaten so much in my life!
“That is quite an incredible tale.” Nazar says as he takes a sip of wine from a silver goblet.
Bowing, I say, “This one thanks you for such a fine meal.”
Nazar nods, glancing over at Sariel. He clears his throat, looking me in the eyes. “Can you tell me more about these ruins you found your gauntlet in?”
That sets warning bells of in my head but I lean forward. “Of course, Head Nazar. What is it you wish to know?”
Nazar leans his head on his left arm, the snake-bird goldsign moving its head about. “I will cut to the chase. Do you remember where these ruins are, and would lead an expedition to them?”
I keep my expression neutral. I had suspected he might ask something like this. “No, I’m sorry. This one was lost and only by luck was I able to escape the jungle.” I put a mournful expression on, hoping that it is enough to appease him.
Nazar nods thoughtfully. “That is a shame. Now, my next question. Can you describe these ‘lizardmen’ that attacked your village?”
Images of the demon ripping off Karla’s head, gorging on her body with it’s claws stained in crimson, flash through my mind. I remember it clutched Karla’s bracelet in it’s hand, blood staining the fibers.
I gulp down my bile. I will avenge Amia, but first I have to get stronger.
Describing the lizardman is not hard, ever scale on it’s hide is carved into my mind. It’s savage roar and baleful eyes, it’s maw of teeth and it’s clawed hands.
Nazar scratches at his cheek. “What you seem to be describing, Kardin, is the Tulnar.”
There’s that word again. Vicar said it before, but I forgot to ask him about it.
“Excuse me, this one does not know about these Tulnar. He would like to ask you to explain.”
“The Tulnar are a race of cold-blooded, subterranean lizardmen. They were recently split into various warring tribes. If I know correctly, they were united under one banner recently, The Ra’tok Tribe.”
Nazar nods at his father. “What concerns me about this is that they have never shown an interest in attacking The Traezar Empire. They have always been more focused on fighting each other. I think that they may be looking to start a war with The Empire now , but what I don't understand is why. The Chief of The Ra’tok, and the Tulnar who subjugated all the other tribes, signed a nonaggression pact with Traezar.”
Norvan sits up, suddenly more interested in the conversation, “You think that we are going to war?”
Nazar nods grimly. “If this is true, and I think it is, the Emperor needs to be told. But it is my problem now, so I will say good night Kardin. I am sure that you are tired from your journey and all the talking. ”
I nod slowly. “This one thanks you again. He wishes you luck and hopes that these talks of war will not come to fruition.”
I stand up with everyone else and walk towards the door with Sariel.
“Ah! Kardin, before I forget. I have a present for you.”
I turn around to look at Nazar. “This one requires no compensation, he has done nothing to deserve it.” I bow my head.
“Ridiculous! You may have provided us with information of a possible threat, and helped me. I must move some of my assets away from the edge of The Jungle of The Gods and Tulnar territory.” Nazar takes a box from a servant. He walks over to me. The box is a long rectangle, made of smooth and polished wood.
He unlocked the box, displaying the contents to me.
Inside are three long poles. One has a long, leaf shaped metal spear head on it, shining with intricate scripts along the blade. The other poles are wood, polished and sanded down, with many intricate designs carved within the wood. Light blue scripts run along the wood.
“This is a spear forged by a master smith and inscribed by a Spirit Smith with runes of durability, sharpness and Katra channeling. It can be broken down, like you see right now, and will let you augment it with Katra.”
I bow to him deeply, saying as I look at the floor, “This one thanks you, he can never thank you enough for this astonishing gift.” Nazar closes the box and hands it to me.
This will be useful.
“I wish you luck in your travels Kardin. Maybe one day you will decide to show me these ruins you found. You may go now.” Nazar smiles happily.
I blanche at what he says. I need to work on my lying.
Quickly walking out, I follow Sariel out to the carriage and hop in with her.
He could have killed me for lying. He would have been within the rights to do so.
I look up as Sariel slumps into the cushions of the carriage, she groans.
“What’s wrong?”
She looks at me and sits back up. “I thought you might at least have had some table manners; that's why I never bothered to teach you any. I am surprised the Head took it so well; you essentially insulted him. It is a good thing that he is not one of the more prideful sacred artists.”
I become still at her comment. There seems to be so many ways to die in my life. I let out a long, suffering sigh.
Shortly, we arrived back at the inn. The sign above declaring it; The Brass Monkey Inn.
I stepped out of the carriage and looked at Sariel.
She stood in the door, looking at me with sadness. “I wish you the best of luck, Kardin. Good bye.”
I bow deeply to her. “Thank you for caring for me, Master Trader Sariel. I too, wish you the best of luck.”
Sariel snorts, her mumbling almost not heard by me. “Far too respectful for what you have done.”
The carriage door closes and I can hear the rapping of knuckles, the driver flicks the reins and the oxen pull the carriage away.
Taking in a deep breath, I walk back into the inn.
***
I sat on my bed, Vicar snoring lightly in the bed a couple feet away. With a deep breath, I plunged into myself, going to my core. I envisioned the wheel, slowly grinding away at the inside of my core.
It has been a while since I had used my cycling method, but I push through the feeling of suffocating until I have to stop.
Gasping for air, I wipe sweat from my brow. I start cycling again. Rinse and repeat.
Time slowly creeps by as I cycle my Katra. After a while, I stop, sucking in breaths of air.
I will do some more tomorrow.
The urge to go to sleep is great, but there is still something I need to do. I glance at my cloth wrapped arm.
I shouldn’t go back.
But I felt the need to.
Closing my eyes, I took in a deep breath, releasing it. I send my Katra to my arm, activating the bone gauntlet. Plunging my awareness into the arm, through the sticky, protective barrier around it.
I find myself floating within the strange space. Giant runes carved into the fabric of the universe float past, lines of Katra connecting them all.
All the thin beams of multi colored Katra lead back to a center point, converging where I was last.
I will myself forward, following the lines. I float past many runes, all in a myriad of colors. I come upon the glowing sphere of Katra, the point of origin . Inside I can see something, but can't make it out. It is surrounded by a dimly glowing sphere of gray that wasn’t there before.
This time I whirl around.
I yell into the endless space. “Hello?”
Then there is a feeling of wrongness again. I watch as many of the lines to the runes dim, sparks flying off them and spinning together, forming a whirlpool of color.
They slowly stop spinning, harding and turning gray. A giant eye ball forms, seemingly painted onto the blackness in gray.
“Leave now, you are not authorized.” It booms out, the voice coming from all directions.
My core is marginally bigger, with more Katra packed in it from my recent cycling. Despite that, I can already feel myself running on low as the gauntlet eats a steady flow of Katra.
“No!” I yell back at the Katra construct. “I want answers! What are you? What is this place? Why can no one see any Katra in my gauntlet?!”
The eyeball looms over me, seemingly only glaring down at me. I fight the urge to shrivel up and die, a feeling much like Inik’s oppressive aura crashes into me.
It only enrages me. I REFUSE TO DIE!
“LEAVE NOW.” It roars again, the sensation of my eardrums nearly rupturing comes down on me. But I know I am not really here, I’m in The Brass Monkey Inn, sitting on my bed.
“NOT UNTIL YOU ANSWER MY QUESTIONS!” I shout back. “I WILL JUST KEEP COMING BACK TILL I GET THE ANSWERS THAT I WANT!”
I’m running out of time.
There is a loud, low hum within the air. It takes me a moment to realise that it is the Katra eyeball making the noise.
“Fine.” It rumbles in a resigned tone.
There is a feeling of wrenching upon my stream of Katra, then I feel it being diverted and eventually turning into a trickle. I panic at the sensation, never having even heard of something like this.
But I feel more here. More solid, not like a specter floating around like before.
“You no longer need to forcefully project your soul here.” The being of Katra rumbles.
There is a blinding flare of multiple colors, and I watch as the eyeball seems to melt. Colorful sparks fly off it, heading back to the streams of Katra. It drinks down till it is just a little bigger than me.
“I am Sol 840, the Administrator of this Soul Space. I oversee and guard this place.”
I try to wrap my head around this, but am still disturbed by feeling my Katra flowing somewhere that I did not know. It seemed to vanish somewhere, but I couldn’t find where it was going. “Soul space?”
“Sol” bobs up and down slowly. “An area within the designated Bond 840. It is both hub and control center for all Katra channel flows. Within Entity Tagged: Ex.840K.”
I mentally rub my head, trying to unravel what that means. Ex.840K? What in the name of the gods does that mean?
“I don't understand.” I say, looking at Sol.
“Then you do not understand. It does not matter currently that you understand.” The eyeball says in it’s inflectionless voice. “The reason no one may view Artifact 840 is because of Energy 12990, designation: Gray Katra.”
“Gray Katra?” I mutter, looking around me. I peer into the glowing origin point, surrounded by a protective layer now, glowing dimly gray. I can still see the undefined, dark shape inside.
“All queries have been answered. Leave now.” Sol booms the last part like before. I get the uneasy feeling that it is glaring at me.
“You didn’t really answer any of my questions. What is Gray Katra?” I ask, my voice heated with anger.
“Energy 12990.” Sol responds flatly.
“What does that mean?!” I yell, frustrated. It felt like I was talking to a wall. How can I get it to respond with something that makes sense?
Firmly saying, “Show me what Gray Katra is.” I point angrily at the eyeball.
There is that hum, is that it’s way of thinking?
“You are not Authorized access currently to-” There is that low hum again, reverberating through the space around me. “Access has been granted by Administrator 002, designation: Unknown.”
“What?” I ask confused. Why is it acting so erratic?
“Energy 12990 is an aspect of Katra. It is similar to Pure Katra, but it’s baseline is different, allowing for absorption of all Katra, regardless of Grade or Aspect.” Sol floats back a little, it’s focus going to the giant sphere. “Gray Katra has many practical uses, but is relatively weak compared to Higher Grade Katra. It is classified as a Mid Grade Katra Aspect, best for building complex constructs.”
“Katra Grade?” I furrow my brow at it, could it be talking about how Katra seemed to get better at higher levels? No, that wouldn’t make sense.
How can you grade Katra?
But I understood the opportunity I had. “What exactly can this Gray Katra do?”
Sol hummed again. “Gray Katra can absorb all Aspects of Katra, converting it to Gray Katra. It cannot be made by cycling vital arua, only through the consumption of other Katra can it be formed. It works similarly to Pure Katra, but allows for solid structuring, making it possible for images to be imprinted upon it. Similar to Katra Concepts to reach designation rank: Highlord.”
I still don't quite understand what it is trying to describe, but I think I'm starting to get the idea. I think it’s trying to say that I can mold the Katra to form things. But I have no clue what it is saying about Highlords.
I don't think I should pass up this opportunity.
“How do I attain this Gray Katra?” I ask Sol.
The eyeball immediately booms, “Authorization not granted. All queries have been answered, Authorization to ban Entity Ex.840K till further notice granted. Progress till ban complete: 2%”
“NO!” I yell.
My eyes go wide. I can't lose this!
In a desperate act, I will myself towards the origin point. That is where I think that this “Gray Katra” is.
I crash into it, but I don't feel any pain. Pushing myself up, I find that I am now centered in a point of gravity, giving me weight. I look down at the gray barrier and the light within. It’s got to be in there!
Looking around, I try to find something that I can use to smash the barrier.
“Progress till ban complete: 17%” Sol’s monotone voice booms, there is a low, deep humming filling the air.
Gritting my teeth, I pull my fist back, smashing it into the barrier. Nothing happens, but a spark of white jumps up and shocks me.
“Gah!” I cry, stumbling back. I look at my ghostly fist, but it looks unscathed. But now I can see wrappings around it, identical to my right hand in the real world. Just a little shock. How do I break this thing?
Struck by an idea, I wrestle with the flow of Katra within me. I wrench back control of it with a scream, pushing it into my body, specifically my wrapped hand.
The ghostly wrappings on my hand seem to come alive, but I focus on the bone gauntlet, pushing my Katra into it.
It forms quicker than I have ever seen it do before.
“Progress till ban complete: 29%”
I bring my opaque, ghostly fist down on the barrier. There is the sound of cracking and more flashes. Pain arcs up my arm, wracking my body.
There is a small fracture in the barrier.
Screaming I bring my fist back down in the same spot. More pain, but the crack is bigger.
This is nothing!
Karla’s screams, he terrified face, her hand reaching out to me, begging for me to help her flash through my mind. I half scream, half roar, putting all my rage into hand, bringing my fist back down.
“Progress till ban complete: 36%”
The Tulnar cutting down Varick, his blade flashing out unceasingly, trying to stall for time. His silent screams. My fist comes back down. More pain.
“Progress till ban complete: 39%”
It’s gore splattered jaws, the fire lighting it’s scaly hide red. The crimson stained claws, and Karla’s bracelet clutched in them.
Crashing my fist back down into the barrier, I roar my rage, terror, pain and fear.
“Progress till ban complete: 43%”
I scream words, punctuating each hit. “I. WILL. NOT. BE. WEAK!”
Now the cracks have spread more, becoming more fractured.
With a heave, I plunge my fist through the barrier. Pain erupts all through my body, but I ignore it.
Screaming incoherently, I reach through the light, towards the dark shape within it.
“Progress till ban complete: 61%” There is a slight bit of worry in Sol’s voice now.
I stretch my arm out, as far as I can. My fingertips brush against the shape within the light, the origin point.
Wrenching my arm nearly out of it’s socket, my hand clasps around the origin point. I try to pull it towards me, but it resists fiercely, moving only a few inches at a time.
“Progress till ban complete: 79%”
I can't give up!
I pull with all my might, sending the last trickles of Katra into my back, arms and legs. The origin point moves a few more inches.
“Progress till ban complete: 84%” Sol’s voice is now clearly worried, but there is still that hollow tone to it.
“No, no! NO!” I roar, wrenching the origin point through the hole. I go tumbling back, spiraling into the air.
“Progress till ban complete: 89%”
Now what?
I can sense Katra within my hand, like with a beast core but it is twisted to two points, like gnarled roots. So I tap into it.
The energy is strange and the only impression I get from it is “Gray”, “Inbetween”, “Nothing but definitely something”. It is weird, but I continue to drain the Katra from the origin point.
“Progress till ban complete: 91%” Sol’s tone is clearly panicked.
With a great wrench I pull a chunk of Gray Katra, but I am slow at absorbing it. Most of the Katra I can feel flowing out of my channels and into my body. Let’s hope this doesn’t have any ill effects on me.
A small bit of the Katra enters my core and I hold it there, continuing to siphon more Katra from the origin point.
“Progress till ban complete 98%”
With a final wrench, I pull a bunch of Gray Katra into myself.
Then it feels like I’m being torn apart; my insides scrambled and my brain fried. I scream in agony.
“100%. Ban Complete.”
With a blast of pain, I can feel my mind launched out of the gauntlet.
After a few minutes, I start to come to, no longer screaming. I can feel my arms and legs being restrained as I thrash about and I slowly relax.
Focusing, I can see Vicar and a few other warriors holding me down, talking to each other.
Sweating I close my eyes, looking into my core.
There, inside it, I get the murky impression of Gray. It is but a small string of Katra, floating in the empty vacuum left by my pure Katra, but it is most definitely there.
I start to laugh and cry.
Then I can feel my hold on consciousness slip, and I’m plunged into darkness.