‘Is there any way to practise shaping without using Oma?’ he asked from the ground, his voice moving through the room.
‘Of course, we call them shaping exercises,’ returned Kleos’ voice. ‘However, first you have to try to activate a given Imbued or Symbiote at least a few times, to see how it feels when the effect is generated. Once you understand roughly what it will be like and what is required from you, you can then try to remember that feeling, create a shadow of it in your mind, and work to manipulate it. After some time, you should try to activate the Imbued again, and see if your mental practice has borne fruit. If not, then you should change the way you are practising.’
Nicolai rose slowly to his feet, eyes half closed, holding the connection to the Seed and the ring. He sent out a little bit of Oma from his Seed to the ring.
Instantly it was taken by the ring and some of it was transformed, though more of it was simply stored inside the ring, a source of fuel which was gradually transformed into the effect, moment by moment. After his previous practise with the polearm Nicolai was ready for this, able to hold onto that transformation, preventing it from taking effect. He stood there for some time, feeling at the shape of it, feeling how he could manipulate it.
Then he thought up as he activated the Art and made a tiny gesture with his hand, willing himself to move upwards. He felt his feet gently leave the ground, and he rose towards the ceiling. Down, he thought, with a similar gesture, and he was falling faster than expected, knees bending to absorb the force, the ring continuing to try and send him down as his muscles strained. With a thought Nicolai ended the effect.
Then he lay back down and did as Kleos had suggested, working through what he’d learned, imagining how it had worked without actually generating the effect. He felt his up and down had been too forceful. In fact, it might be better to merely wish to float in a chosen direction. He imagined doing so.
As he lay there the torch died, leaving the room illuminated by flickering firelight. Then the whispering began. Soon they would start knocking on the outer door.
The whispering sunk into his mind as he lay there, and Nicolai let it become the backdrop to his imaginary shaping. Finally, he returned to his feet and activated the ring. This time he floated gently up, then forwards, backwards, left and right. The Oma was running low so he returned to the ground, settling onto it just as the effect ended.
He lay down and thought about how it had felt. He still felt he was doing it a little bit wrong. He took the time to check his Seed, which had used very little Oma and didn’t seem at all strained. The effect was quite cheap, at least for gently floating around the room. He would need to use it significantly more when the time came.
As he lay there he recalled the archers and how they had moved. They had been quite slow, even when chasing him, which told him the ring had a maximum speed. He remembered how they’d landed on the walkway and the wall, the one which had balanced gently upon the crenellation and shot at him. The ease and smoothness of their movements sketched a demonstration of mastery in his mind, a height to aspire to.
After more mental practice, Nicolai stood again. This time he thought about being weightless, and he remained on the ground but the weight of his body vanished to leave his feet light. With a gentle flex of his legs he moved into the air, aping the way one of the archers had risen, and now he thought of floating. He imagined an enemy attacking him and he slid to the side, stopped his movement and moved back.
Next he tried to do a spin, but nothing happened. Re-orientating his body was harder, required a different way of thinking. As the Oma inside the ring burned down, Nicolai continued his attempts, and after some time he successfully lurched into a clockwise twist. However, where he’d intended to simply turn around he instead just kept on spinning like a top.
He struggled to stop the motion, and only managed it by ending the effect entirely, dropping to to land on the floor. There was still Oma in the ring but it was waiting for him to activate it again. He hadn’t known it could do that. The polearm hadn’t been able to. He rose again into the air, and again struggled to re-orient himself, doing his best to work it out with the limited time he allowed himself.
When the ring was out of Oma he settled onto the ground, lay down, and continued his mental practice, imagining how it had felt, thinking on his mistake with the spinning, considering how to do better.
After some time he rose and told himself this was the final try.
His imaginary practice had paid off, as he managed to float around the room while re-orienting as he wished. He was still somewhat ungainly and jerky, and he knew compared to the archers he was still very much a novice. But he was capable of slow movement in every direction, of orienting himself as he wished, and he understood how the ring could hold Oma and how the shaped effect could be paused if he wished. At some point he realised there was a grin on his face.
‘I’m doing magic,’ he mumbled as he bobbed towards the wall. He slowly spun until his feet were against it and then gently pushed off to slide through the room, laughter bubbling up and spilling from his lips.
Kleos watched him swim through the air. ‘Nice, isn’t it?’ There was a wistful tone to its voice.
‘Did you fly?’ asked Nicolai, curious about Kleos for possibly the first time. He’d been so busy and focused, unwilling to spare the time to ask about the head. He sunk to the ground, the last of the ring’s Oma depleted, and checked on his Seed which seemed a little exerted, but not strained. He didn’t push any more Oma into the ring, feeling that the session had come to an end.
Kleos was staring past him, its eyes dim, lost in memory. ‘I flew. I was known for my skills with the wind.’
‘Did you fight?’ asked Nicolai, and he recognised the hunger in his own voice.
‘I fought,’ Kleos spoke, and now it was smiling. ‘Wielding the wind as my weapon, I fought.’
‘What was it like?’ Nicolai sank into the chair beside the head, his eyes fixed on its face.
‘Glorious,’ breathed Kleos, eyes closed. ‘Do you know how many forms the wind can take? It can crash like a hammer, it can slice like a blade. It can push back or pull forwards. It can wrap around you like the arms of a lover and take you from any harm, then it can twist and turn, forming a fortress, or a prison.’
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‘What did your fights with others look like?’ asked Nicolai, trying to form mental images to match Kleos’ words.
‘It depended on the opponent. Some came to me in the air. Others remained on the ground. We would attack and defend using Symbiotes and Artifacts, each one fulfilling a specific purpose. Artifacts being the most important, the type-setters. It mostly comes down to who has the better tools, who is stronger, and who is smarter.’
‘How?’ asked Nicolai. ‘How do I go from making a polearm call some gusts of air, from floating slowly about, to what you could do?’
The head cracked an eye open and peered at him. ‘Just keep doing as you’re doing. Complete your Seed. Then I presume you’ll be able to use any Symbiotes and Imbued you find properly. Then find more. Cultivate. Find even more, keep going...’ It chuckled. ‘Defy Heaven.’
There was a lull in the conversation, Nicolai imagining himself rushing with the wind, wielding it.
Part of him was also thinking that it would be good to prolong this conversation. Forming a “bond” with Kleos could only make the head more helpful, and the more Nicolai could learn, the better. He sat there, trying to think of something to ask the head.
‘You were a warrior too, were you not?’ Kleos asked before he could.
Nicolai glanced at the head, a little surprised by the question. Was I a warrior? He wouldn’t put it quite like that. ‘I killed people,’ he said. ‘For money, and for other reasons.’
Kleos took a moment to absorb that. Then, apparently deciding it counted, the head asked, ‘What did that look like, on your world?’
Nicolai took a moment to decide how much he was willing to share. He experienced a moment of uncertainty when he realised he had little problem telling things to the head, and there were thus less limits on what he was willing to share than normal. The head was reliable by virtue of their Contract. For now, he reminded himself. The Contract would not last forever.
‘Very different, in my time, to what I’ve seen here,’ said Nicolai. ‘We used a variety of weaponry. Guns, capable of launching pieces of metal that can kill a man whether he stands in the same room, or miles away. Depending on the type, anyway. Drones, which acted as mobile eyes, taking in information, sometimes equipped with weapons of their own. Bombs that can turn dozens of people to mush, or level entire cities.’
Nicolai paused, thinking of thermal imaging, active camouflage and light-benders, augments and implants, cyberwarfare, smart-bullets, missiles, killbots, acoustic devices, eye-burners, gas, bio-agents, and more, and more, and more, all the vast scope of humanity’s developments in killing one another. He felt a sudden fatigue at the idea of trying to explain all of it to Kleos, an urge to move the conversation along.
‘Doesn’t sound all that different to me,’ said Kleos.
‘How many Artifacts did you possess, when you controlled the winds?’ Nicolai asked, uncertain as to how many he ought to be wielding in his mental image.
‘Two,’ said Kleos.
Nicolai’s eyes widened. ‘You could do so much, with so few?’
‘No, I had many Symbiotes, as well. Keep in mind, these Imbued items you’ve been using are nothing compared to proper Artifacts. Little more than toys, compared to what I had back then. Real Artifacts are living things, and they do the job of multiple Symbiotes, with the effects enhanced. What you have are just Symbiotes forced into a different medium, their power reduced, not increased. A measure made to cut costs, as at least they don’t require feeding. It will be some time until you are capable of wielding a true Artifact.’
‘So I ought to look for Symbiotes? They’re better than these Imbued?’ asked Nicolai.
‘You won’t find many at all in the castle. It is decaying, and the methods used to keep most Symbiotes alive ran out long ago. As to Artifacts, many may have died or left, but I suspect some are still about. If you run into one, I recommend you run, not try to catch it.’ Kleos adopted a thoughtful expression. ‘Your best bet is getting as strong as you can and completing the Seed, then start to gather more Imbued. What does it look like, outside of this castle?’
‘There is a great, endless jungle. It stretches into the distance in all directions.’
‘Good. Once you hit your limit for Imbued items, and have grown a real internal system, go there, and I’m sure you’ll find all manner of beasts and beings. They will have Symbiotes. Kill them. There will also be plants, fruits, perhaps a few precious springs or other materials. All of these can help you become stronger. Prepare you for hunting real Artifacts.’
‘You speak of these Artifacts like living creatures,’ said Nicolai.
‘They are,’ Kleos assured him. ‘They’re created by fusing numerous Symbiotes with precious Infused materials to form a tool or weapon, then putting the soul of something powerful inside to hold it all together. The soul manages the internals of the Artifact, ensuring it works, as well as looking after itself. They aren’t quite as aware and sentient as you and I, more like animals, and they are bound by the rules of their creators. A good thing, too, or instead of us using Artifacts, the Artifacts would be using us.’
Nicolai nodded, frowning. Some of the air of magic and mystery that had hovered over him had faded with Kleos’ straightforward words. It was clear that what to Nicolai was fantastical, otherworldly magic, was merely a well-trod system of Symbiotes, Artifacts, Oma and cultivation to Kleos.
‘Be wary in the jungle,’ added Kleos. ‘I suspect it will be very dangerous, especially for a living being. You aren’t ready, not yet.’
Nicolai eyed Kleos. The head wore a pensive expression, and it sounded truly worried about him, which came as a bit of a surprise.
Then he understood. Nicolai represented Kleos’ current hopes of regaining a body. It was natural the head would worry about him running out and getting killed before that could happen.
‘I’ll wait until you think I’m ready,’ he assured Kleos, which sounded like a promise, but so far as Nicolai was concerned was merely a collection of empty words, uttered so the head would relax. In their contract he’d specified that Kleos must always be honest with him, but Kleos had never specified the reverse for Nicolai. The head’s only concern had been ensuring he would get it a suitable body.
‘What is the point of this?’ he asked, finally broaching one of the question that had been budding at the centre of his being since his arrival. Kleos looked confused so Nicolai clarified: ‘Why were I and my race taken from our world to compete in this Great Game? What is the Nightmare? What is Heaven, and what does it want?’
Kleos puffed its cheeks and let out a chuckle. ‘Questions many have asked before you, and many will ask after you. I know little. Nightmare is just the name of this world, a name given to it after the People fell. But, there are many other worlds in Heaven’s Great Game. Why does the Game happen, what is its purpose?’ Kleos snorted, and made a helpless face. ‘I don’t know.’
‘As to Heaven itself,’ the head continued, ‘it is… it is Heaven. It is vast and all knowing. It is said that Heaven protects us, but it did not protect the People. They transgressed against it, and it was vengeful in its wrath.’
‘Protects us from what?’
‘From the Outside. Demons, Gods, Entities… whatever you might imagine.’
‘What is a God?’
Kleos frowned. ‘Something very powerful, I suppose. Heaven protects us from it all. But at the same time, Heaven constrains us. Cultivators who seek to rise to the top receive Heaven’s ire. The more powerful they grow, the more they resemble the things of the Outside.’
‘And a demon?’
‘They’re beings from the Outside that seem to have more interest in coming here and screwing around. They aren’t as dangerous as other things in the Outside, so Heaven allows them to come through, now and then. Then they get stuck.’
‘What about transgression? Do you know of any laws I should avoid breaking?’
‘I know nothing of that. I have no idea what the People did to fall afoul of Heaven, only that they did. I was in this jar when it happened. I only know you should avoid breaking the deal we made in Heaven’s name.’
Nicolai quirked a smile. ‘Of course,’ he said, and he turned away to feed his Seed an Oma crystal, leaving him with nine, bringing the Seed back up to its usual level.
User Interface 376 | Player #53,217
- Cultivation
> Seed Progress
Soul: 15%
Oma: 17%
He intended to spend more time practising connecting to his Seed and utilising Soul Sense before he slept, but Kleos was looking tired.
‘Jar?’ he asked Kleos.
‘Jar,’ the head confirmed.