Zahn stood with the crowd waiting for the next match, fiddling with his new spell knowledge. The circle he gripped in midair felt real under his fingers and pushed back, as if he’d placed very firm paper on a mildly bouncy surface. The circular spellform he channeled mana into was Shifting the sand and dirt together like a blender while he focused. He couldn’t grip the underside of his shape, and turning off Mana Sight made the form disappear leaving him gripping air. He could push more mana into the shape than it was able to hold, and make more layers of the design overlap one another but his manipulations never made the object thicker than the thinnest wafer and only tangible from above.
Ethan watched the ongoing experiments with half-powered sight, making conversation with the other fighters while they waited for the fight. Rather than attempt to fix the ring he’d destroyed during the fight, the other Player had opted to play with mixing dirt and rubbing the air. The ‘lock kept attention away from the bizarre caster and continued to bring up the power of Brouhaman to keep any bored Gladiators from challenging and murdering the low-leveled wierdo. With the obvious restraint and announcements of their match being a ‘lesson’ it was clear who had won and how the Player had merely been spared instead of dueling the potent Shaman to a draw.
Zahn’s attention was pulled to his wandering dirt mound while the blond Player talked about the weather with serial killers. The little magic blob seemed slower, and its mana cloud dragged through the sand behind it rather than binding tightly to the original circle. The lowbie tried directing his distance spell towards the animated sweepings pile and found when pointing the middle of his circle at it the mana stuck like a magnet. Trying to pull the spellform away resulted in tugging the clod in different directions like a fishing line until he settled on pulling it close to repair whatever it suffered from. “Shift.”
The other fighters took notice of the animated dirt mound as it swam under the foot of a fighter and crossed their paths to end at the lowbie’s feet. Gardor slapped the Player’s shoulder as he fiddled with the animated sweepings pile, “Whatcha got there, Player Zahn? Dirt pet?”
Zahn grinned up at him and nodded at his small crowd. “Hey big man. Something like that, it’s a spell I set off before the last match and it’s still roaming around. Just fixing it up and topping off its mana supply, should be able to wander around for a while yet.” Retracing the circle and feeding the mound more power, he watched the spellform’s affected area shudder and redefine itself before bustling away in a random direction.
“Didn’t know you could turn dirt into a pet,” Zahn looked up to find the barbarian rubbing his beard with a thoughtful look. “You say that’s an Earth-type spell? So it’s like that ring-breaker you set off before then?” The other observers grumbled a chorus after him, pounding their chests and cheering on his fight. “That was some mighty magic.”
The lowbie waved their praise away as he beamed under the weight, “Nah, not at all. The old man even said it was a lesson, and he was only fighting me because I wasn’t using the spells he taught me very well. He can do so much with such simple spells, I can’t even believe it. If he wanted to, I’d probably be dead before I cast anything at all.”
Ethan leaned into their conversation, “Did you see that moving statue? I can’t imagine facing off against a stone warrior without a weapon. What would you use, if he’d come after such brave warriors as yourselves?”
Gardor’s belly swelled as he casually flexed to his full height, “I could have handled it. I’ve broken more than one great beast with my bare hands, have no fear little Monk.”
The fighter to his right brushed him off, “Bah, you’re more braggart than barehander. I’ve never even seen you enter a fight without your precious fat stick ready, even if you wrap the thing in iron.”
The two quickly pulled in supporting arguments from their friends as the Players sat back and enjoyed the bickering. “And that,” the ‘lock murmured quietly in Zahn’s ear, “is how you distract a group of fighters. Because of course each knows the best way to win whatever just happened, they’ll tell you.”
The remaining time before the fight passed quickly, with Zahn fiddling with his new remote casting ability and trying to uncover whatever else apparently obvious spell knowledge he hadn’t been told. A brief effort showed he could remotely cast Shape without issue, and drawing the simple line for Sever was nearly enough to activate that destructive spell on its own. Can’t accidently use this thing, he admonished himself as he stopped feeding mana into the dash and let it fade. Working with lines and circles left him tempted to merge the shapes and try to make a combined design, but his limited knowledge on the possibilities stayed his hand.
When the duel began, both contestants entered and Ethan punched Zahn to get his attention. As much as he tried, the Custom couldn’t hear the words for each Gladiator’s entry but the presence was there. The closest comparison would be a vibrating noise that took up pressure, almost like a magnetic field he was sensitive to. As the fighters went at each other, he saw why Davi was dubbed the Devious as the man in leather bands launched a series of thin daggers towards his opponent during the opening run. Each blade rang as it bounced off Baker’s shield, the latter swinging a heavy studded mace overhead to meet the sneak’s advance.
A notification began to pulse in the corner of Zahn’s vision, and as he focused on it he saw Ethan was inviting him to a party. Accepting the offer, he verified Party Chat and heard the other Player’s voice in his ear. “Okay, I don’t think the old man is coming out tonight, and no sign of the superstitious beefcakes. We’re good to go, let’s do the ritual in my room before we crash. Game time, champ.”
The boiled turkey soup was somehow dry, not helped by the heapings of spices the blond amateur chef tried tossing on top. Zahn slurped down the meal and fetched the tablet from his bunk. The strange looping design still spun as he looked at it, but at least the Chaos rune effect no longer randomly went off out the corner of his eye. As Ethan held the bowl of partly congealed Blaze Turkey blood away from his bed, he closed the door and pointed at the mostly clear wall. “It’s upright, just like in the page.”
Nodding. Zahn stepped close and held the etched spellform like a painting. “Seal.” Intoning the formless spell and focusing his intent, the Custom imagined the outer edge melding against the rock wall and holding firm as if glued into place. A course whoosh puttered out the edges as the smooth stone back melded against the uneven bricks all along the side and sank against the wall halfway.
“Welp, it’s on the wall,” Zahn's cheery tone did nothing to help Ethan’s open-mouthed stare. “It’s looking like, what, eight fourty-five or so and we have two layers of closed doors between us and any intruders. Ready?”
“You turned it into a goddamn permanent fixture! I don’t want this thing on here man, it creeps me the fuck out! As soon as we’re done, you need to rip this shit offa here stat, got me?” Securing the other Player’s giggling agreement, the blond Warlock faced the carved spell directly. “Okay. Fucker. Place your non-dominant hand against the lower loop, palm against the opening. Shouldn’t hurt or anything, just gonna leech your mana so juice up that arm bucko.”
Zahn obediently followed along, tracing a path of warmth down his limb and pushing his hand against the carved shapes. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel the strange design dancing its sharp edges against the skin of his hand. “What now?”
“Maybe don’t look.” Ethan’s tone was enough to prompt him to open his eyes anyways and look up at the caster pouring the lifeblood onto the upper whorl, without the mess spilling anywhere. “Get ready to feed it, this sort of thing is usually done in groups.”
Zahn closed his eyes again, focusing on the route of mana inside his arm. “And why would I need a group? I can just shunt mana out and-” His compelling argument was abruptly cut short as cold shot up his left side and drained his stored mana in a single gulp. He could almost feel whatever it was swallowing the generous helping before it lashed out again, ripping a chunk of power from his Core and nearly draining his mana pool.
Zahn found himself floating, somewhere without ground or gravity as no air passed him by and his delicate equilibrium remained undisturbed. Finding nowhere to gain balance or eyes to open, the darkness was nearly comforting. The lack of sensation had him feeling deadened until he found he couldn’t touch his own body, or see anything that could be a limb. But I still feel warm, secure. Am I in my mind? The idea of safety, the comforting warmth of a fiery hearth and the happy cheer of a family filling a home echoed out of his center. The ripple of joy and wonder seemed almost visible as the memory made tracks through this strange lack of place, highlighting what seemed like massive shapeless clouds on all the horizons. In each direction without distinction the great forms of darkness seemed to repel the glow and light of his happy warm memory until the light given off was extinguished entirely and the presence of something began to tickle the back of his mind.
And who, little one, might you be? The question was felt as much as heard, its very words shaking with purpose and memory as each linked to endless countless possibilities of what it meant until the complete sentence formed itself as the only possible answer there ever could have been. The shapeless presence rose up from beneath, somehow both behind and in front of Zahn as he drifted helpless in this strange bodiless void and found the idea of the question he’d finally interpreted to be forming in front of him. The shape manifested as a being of orange and red light, flickering like the very flame he’d remembered out of childhood and standing as impatiently as his least favorite teacher one had. I asked you a question. The same demanding train of ideas blended together into the sentence beyond words, temporarily driving Zahn to distraction as he fought against the barrage of possible meanings.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“Who’s asking?” The Player found words without a mouth, his own reply seeming flat and hollow led by a single idea and possibility, somehow echoed in the color purple. “Are you made of fire?”
The presence rising from behind seemed to shudder and jiggle as the specter he could make out wobbled in a silent laugh. What a silly question. You waste time, when given the chance to do so. What you name as Fire is nothing but a recognition of an ongoing chemical reaction. You see light given off by gasses, and give such an illusion the name. Do you think I am an illusion, little one? As the shimmering body spoke, the rising dread faded and reformed into a new shape, pressing down from above as it lifted from below.
Zahn felt the thing gathering around him, nearly encasing his whatever he was seeing through like the shell of an egg. Or hands closing around me. The thought didn’t comfort him, and he wasn’t even sure if it remained private. “Given the ritual we were casting, I think I’m in Chaos. The place, anyways.” The being didn’t react, floating silently like a fishing lure in the water. “So that would make you a Chaos, the creature? Am I right?”
The fire shape bounced in place, its voice of ideas echoing around him without direction. Oh, how charmingly insulting it is. Does it truly have no consideration, or perhaps it merely wishes for its own end? The pressure wrapped around his sides, still closing in from above as it grasped him firmly.
Zahn tried to fight back against the thing, finding little purchase without limbs and his consciousness blooming a headache. “I’m not even the one here to make a deal, I’m just opening the door damnit.” As he spoke the Chaos suddenly released him, its embodiment glowing brighter as it floated before his view.
Oh? Such a thing, holding open the door? This I must see myself. Suddenly the grasping squeeze Zahn had endured before felt like nothing more than a careful caress. The pressure he’d identified coming from above and below seemed like the gentlest capture of a baby bird, against what he felt brought to bear.
An all-encompassing darkness wrapped around Zahn’s mind, smothering his racing thoughts as if a cloud of wool had enveloped his whole lack of body. In the time he’d been dabbling in the realm he hadn’t found himself needing to breathe, but whatever the Chaos entity was doing made him choke and gag within his own mind. The pressure pulled down on his mind, his thoughts sluggish and connections coming slowly. He recognized the feeling of being drunk, of his thoughts swirling and slipping away. The sinking feeling grew as the strange voice deepened further. Perhaps not. As well, you’ll taste fine enough as you are, little morsel.
Panic bloomed from his primal instincts, sending a jolt of energy through Zahn’s fading mind. The desperate rush for more breath, more room, more life felt like riding at the front of a geyser as it erupted from beneath the ground. Pressure building from within fought against the pressure pushing down from above, the dragging sensation pulling apart like a thin net until the last tendrils grasping at his mind tore away futilely. The rush of motion within the void left his mind feeling light, airy, as if he’d sucked down pure oxygen after suffocating.
The bubble of energy he rose on easily shattered whatever had been weighing his thoughts down, but the outside pressure still held him in place like a foul monster’s grip. Feeling the same rising fountain of power from somewhere within, Zahn focused his mind on freedom. “You’re not fucking eating me!” Shouting his defiance with thought as much as mental word he found the ideas of breaking chains and shattering jaws ripple out in a pair and felt his inner mystery strength answer.
The claustrophobic cage entrapping his consciousness rocked back, its fluid shape rippling against a wave of energy he pushed out from himself and held as the wave began to fade. Maintaining the bright edge to his expanded bubble of power drained him fast, sucking away warmth and purpose from his frantic mind as the pulse of force held up. Feeling the empty cold spreading within, Zahn surrendered to the torrent pushing upwards and felt himself pressing against a barrier above. The surface bent against his mind, seeming like solid stone and rubber elastic at the same moment before warping to act as a glass panel and downward force acting in concert. Zahn resisted the ceiling, pushing himself against it and feeling a spot just above him give. With a silent roar he burst upwards through the barrier, feeling himself swell with power and rocking himself backwards with the rush. The energy seemed endless, pouring out from somewhere within that cheered at its own freedom he hadn’t known was missing.
As the Player felt himself begin to shrink again, the constant presence of the mystery Chaos being made itself known once more. Well now. Aren’t you interesting after all. Zahn tried to locate a source, unable to see the strange fire figure from before. The rising pressure from beneath began to curl around him once again, sending another wave of panic through his consciousness. He was about to try and call the same power from before when the center of his ethereal being stabbed out with cold, as if he’d acted as the receiving end of a transmission, before he was drawn back through himself and out of the Chaos realm entirely.
Very interesting.
Zahn woke up in a panic, barking a scream and rolling over on the floor. The lowbie panted and gasped for air, his chest heaving as he scrambled across the ground to collapse against the nearest wall. He could hear other noises around him, nothing making sense as he panted and sucked for oxygen as if he’d been running a marathon. Each limb ached and every inch of his skin felt like he’d been burnt in a freezer. Zahn found his jaw chattering as his fingertips looked scorched and his legs felt weak as jelly. He panted and wheezed for air as his pounding heart began to settle, the racing of his heartbeat in his ears slowing enough for him to make out words in a voice he didn’t know.
“See? He’s fine. Told ya.” A combination of whistles and rumbles made up words the Player was able to understand after a short delay trying to translate them.
The mystery voice was answered before Zahn could jerk his body around to find it, and hearing Ethan was only slightly more comforting than the stranger. “I really should listen to you, you were right. Fuck, if only you could talk before, you would have saved me a ton of trouble.”
“Hard to believe, Jackie. More than just irresponsible, you sir are a cunt.”
The room’s third occupant sat perched on Ethan’s shoulder, looking like a wrinkled old man if said man had been tortured into a hideously malformed body. The demon’s limbs were too long and thin, ending in hands and feet that were too large and almost comical by comparison. His main body was hunched over and rounded like a bean, with a thin neck supporting a perfectly round head lacking ears or nose, bearing wrinkled gray skin and holes for its missing senses. Iengoris spouted a low yellow flame within each of its eyes, the spherical head making them seem to take up the side of his head as much as the front like a lizard’s roving socket.
“Your demon looks horrible.” Zahn couldn’t think of much to say when seeing the bizarre creation, but he at least knew how much he didn’t like it.
“Not my fault, doncha know.” Iengoris’ voice pitched between a high rasp and low rumble, never settling on a single tone for too long. “I’m how he made me, remember your little chats about Chaos and demons? I do owe you a thanks, ugly noob-socket.” Zahn blinked back as he tried to parse the insult, “If you hadn’t told my useless widget here about how he’s my limiter I’d never have gotten a voice. Now if he could just fucking choose a voice for me, I’d sound less like a fuckin’ mimic bird, see?”
The Warlock in question leaned close, taking up most of the room between them in his small quarters. “You look like shit, son. What were you doing down there that took so long? If you hadn’t come back at nine like that I was going to go fetch the barbarians to go find your soul.”
Zahn waved him away, pulling himself up the wall and eyeing the shoulder demon warily. “It’s fine, just had a chat with one of the locals. Thinks a lot of himself, likes to play little games like a shit.” Finding his pounding heart calm and breath coming easily again, the lowbie put more effort into standing on his own power as his weakened body worked itself back to life.
“Sorry, no. What were you doin’?” Iengoris barked a snippy reply with his whistling range of a voice without considering a word of it. “Nothing to talk to down there, you think I’d be this chatty if I had company? And fuckin’ pick one! I’m giving me a headache here, toe-head!”
The Custom shook his arms as he tried to stomp feeling back into his shaking legs. “Yeah no, I got caught up talking to some guy. He made a fire dummy to chat with, then got all sassy when I tried asking about him. Real charmer.”
Iengoris fell still, holding his position on Ethan’s shoulder for a long quiet minute. When he finally did speak again, Zahn was inspecting his flexing hands while the ‘lock flipped through his Grimoire’s pages. “Nothing talks down there,” came the new voice in a deep timbre. Iengoris sounded like a much larger being speaking through the small puppet he wore as a form, now that Ethan settled on how the Chaos should speak. “It’s not that we don’t want to, we can’t. Not enough juice to go around. So if you did spend all that time in conversation, you met something very fucking strong. And likely pissed it off, I’m already done with your ass just meetin’ you. Good meetin’ you. Mind fucking off so my Master and I can get reacquainted?”
Ethan spoke up from his book as if the cartoon monkey on his shoulder was perfectly normal, “Yes, good point. Well done with the ritual Zahn, even if you stuck yourself to a wall for fifteen useless minutes. Now, please leave my room. I think you have notifications to sort through anyways, Gods know I sure did.”
Zahn nodded along and walked out, mulling over the possibility of who or what he could have spoken to while in Chaos. He couldn’t see any reason something like a Chaos Lord would have spared him down there, being notable for draining any and all power sources they came across, but his Tome hadn’t shed light on any other intelligent levels of Chaos being. He crossed through the commons in a daze, bumping into couches as he navigated by the dim light from the hearth. When he returned to his room and sat on his small bed, the Player eyed the blinking notifications before hitting his mental Fuck It button and rolling over to sleep.
“Tomorrow’s problem.”