AN: I apologize in advance for the ever ambiguous 'it'. For the purposes of this chapter, whenever an 'it' (outside this author's note, the quotes here are for emphasis) is within quotes, an entity is referenced. I do hope this helps to clear up confusion. It won't be long before the entity gains a name.
Book 1: Beginnings
Prologue
Wandering. For millennia that is all 'it' knew. Searching. It could be said that 'it' was also searching. For what, not even 'it' knew.
'It' did know that 'it' had a purpose. Because 'it' had a purpose, 'it' knew 'it' was alive, and knew that if 'it' stopped wandering 'it' would die. Like some of the marine creatures 'it' came across on this world, 'it' would die if 'it' stopped moving. Stopped searching.
For millennia 'it' had been hunting something. 'It' didn't always know why 'it' was wandering, but over the years 'it' pondered 'its' purpose. Why 'it' was always moving from continent to continent. Then, from planet to planet. Eventually 'it' learned how to cross space, and wandered some more.
Eventually 'it' realized 'its' purpose. To live.
For some beings 'it' studied as 'it' traversed countless worlds, life was meaningless. Whole lives were spent searching for their purpose, not realizing that it was with them from birth. 'It' wasn't as naïve.
Arrogant. It could also be said that the entity was arrogant. Arrogant in that 'it' would frown, had 'it' a mouth, as 'it' watched these beings squander the gift they had been given. Even the most enlightened beings 'it' came across would kill themselves or others over petty disputes.
Disappointed. 'It' was also that as 'it' wandered.
'It' saw the death of star systems, and their eventual rebirth. Still, even with inorganic matter learning how to birth life, 'it' did not learn this method. 'It' was an entity, a consciousness, kept alive solely by constantly moving and pulling energy into 'itself' to keep from dissipating. 'It' couldn't.
Resigned to 'its' fate, 'it' desired to return to 'its' origin. The place 'it' gained conscious thought and the urge to wander. There 'it' would stop moving on, and fade from existence. Alone.
Much had changed as 'it' wandered. The world 'it' emerged from tens, perhaps hundreds, of billions of years ago had died out with the destruction of one of its three stars. In its place was a new star system. Even so, 'it' remembered the location, and that was enough.
Now, 'it' traversed the oceans of the new world. A larger world, but it was here just the same. Here 'it' hunted, hunted a place to end the journey.
~*~
"Harrison. Don't you leave me, you coward!" A woman gasped out as she heaved in breaths of air. She threw out an arm to grasp a panicked man next to her, preventing his escape as he winced at her now iron vice-like grip around his wrist.
"Vera, I love you honey. You know that. But I hate seeing you in pain. It breaks my heart." Harrison pleaded his wife. "Let me wait in the other room with the rest of the family."
Seeing the icy glare that Vera shot him, covered in chilled sweat as she sat heaving in a tub of water, Harrison knew he wasn't going to be leaving. He crouched down onto the ground and endured, giving the occasional comforting head pat as she labored to bring their child into the world.
Seven hour passed. Each seemed longer than the last to the young couple. Without much support from her husband, Vera could only take what little comfort she could from the two midwives that came from the village.
Throughout the ordeal, Vera noticed the looks between the two deepening. She was already into the second afternoon when Harrison pleaded with her. Judging by this, she estimated that she was nearing 38 hours of labor. The longest that Martha, the elderly midwife, had dealt with. She feared for her child, and likely her life as well.
~*~
Having arrived at the location of 'its' awakening, for that's all 'it' could call the time 'it' became aware of 'its' existence eons ago, 'it' found a small gathering of beings. 'It' knew by their appearance that they were Humans. 'It' had taken several decades to watch this new world that had replaced 'its' old one. This was the end of 'its' journey, after all. 'It' might as well.
'It' could already tell that 'it' was not going to have solitude while 'it' waited to pass on. When 'it' had awakened, 'it' was inside what 'it' would later learn was a tree. It was not just any tree, however. It was the eldest one within a forest that lied within the convergence of twenty-seven ley lines. Now, there was only a house. A large step down, in 'its' opinion. Even if the house was the largest in the surrounding village, it wasn't saying much.
No, all 'it' could do was sigh and watch, had 'it' the capacity to do such things. Watch as a woman cried out in pain as she heaved and strained herself to push out the child she was carrying. 'It' had watched many births, and knew that this was going to be a painful and drawn-out one. 'It' wasn't wrong, as the hours toiled away.
Finally, an elderly woman that squatted between the legs of the struggling mother cried out, informing everyone that she spotted a foot. Upon hearing that the woman spotted something, everyone cried out in relief. Until they realized what this meant. 'It' knew and drifted closer to watch, curious if the woman had the skill to save the mother at this risk of losing the child or lose the child to save the mother.
The mother screamed at the elderly woman to save her child at all costs, to cut her open. The man crying beside her from the pain of his cracking bones due to her grip nodded her agreement. Though, if this were to save the child or himself, none would have guessed. Had they the time to notice.
Asking for a knife, the elderly woman sighed in despair. She knew, even if she pulled out the child, that the mother would die. She didn't have the skill to heal the wounds she was about to inflict. The cutting was done with as much care as she could, trying to minimize both the pain and damage to the mother.
'It' watched as the woman chanted as she cut, noticing that there was energy coalescing around the blade, making it easier to both pierce the flesh and act as an anesthetic to the mother. 'It', of course, knew that this world had magic, but didn't expect to find someone proficient in such a small village. Perhaps the mother might survive, 'it' mused to 'itself'.
The surgery lasted for twenty minutes. The elderly woman took it slow, for fear of cutting the child. Piercing through the skin, then the tendons connecting it to the muscle. Finally, she reached into the birthing canal where the child was and gasped. She looked at the watching mother's face in horror.
Seeing the elderly woman's face, 'it' moved closer and was fascinated. The child had its umbilical cord wrapped tightly around its neck. Yet, it was still alive. If only barely. Looking closer, 'it' corrected 'its' assessment. The child's body was not, but its soul struggled to remain inside and urge its heart to beat.
Frowning to herself, the elderly woman finally answered the mother's pleas, "Your child, my lady. He's dead. Strangled by the cord."
The mother's face paled. "Martha, quickly cut him loose. Let me hold him, at least once." She urged.
The elderly woman called Martha complied, dishearteningly. Handing the child off to another woman, to be cleaned. Martha quickly went to work sewing the cuts she made.
'It' hadn't expected this. 'It' had never witnessed a soul not dissipating after the body died. Yes, the soul lingered for awhile, as it took time for it to detach. However, it was almost as if this one wasn't attached to begin with. Simply hovering and calling out to a body that resisted.
Moving closer, as the child was cradled next to a weeping mother's bosom, 'it' drifted next to the body to study this phenomenon. Analyzing more carefully, 'it' saw the problem.
Being what 'it' was, 'it' saw the universe in a way that only a few will ever see. Life existed on multiple layers, or planes of existence. For most life, it is only aware of the physical plane. However, the was a spiritual one adjacent to it. Of course, there are more as well.
In this instance, the body's connections to the spiritual plane are malformed. In some cultures, 'it' has heard them termed as spiritual roots, meridians, spiritual veins, chakras, etc. Regardless, they are the body's way of accessing energy that is generated at varying frequencies outside that of the present physical plane. A corridor for a soul to work through, attach to a physical vessel, and live.
To live. To incarnate. This is something that 'it' has never been able to do. 'It' wasn't a soul. Souls were able to incarnate and tie themselves to a vessel. 'It' was a spontaneously self-realized consciousness that existed between planes. 'It' wondered, however, if after all of of the years 'it' wandered and tried to live 'it' might finally succeed.
Studying the body's meridians closely, 'it' confirmed 'its' first suspicions. Indeed, they were malformed. However, not in the typical broken way where energy is never able to enter if they are ruptured. Instead of drawing energy in, it seems that the body is trying to expunge it. This prevents the soul from entering the body to take root.
This is something that 'it' has never witnessed. 'It' has seen souls attach to a fetus before. 'It' has even tried to overwhelm them as they come to attach to one, even the fetus itself before the soul comes. 'It' has never been successful. The process is too quick in the first instance, and the last doesn't seem to be compatible without a soul.
The second instance, though, has always failed because a soul has its own consciousness already. It naturally repels outside influence. Since 'it' exists between planes and doesn't have a soul, spiritual attacks are beyond 'it'. Even the weakest soul can repel 'it'. Thankfully, they are unable to cause it harm due to 'its' nature or 'it' would have not existed as long as 'it' has.
What 'it' has found even more interesting, however, is that the soul hasn't move on to another body. It has attempted to enter this one for months. Now, the soul is just residing next to the body. 'It' understands why. The soul has exhausted itself. Nine months of effort has weakened its consciousness. Even though it's able to draw in energy, it is still tiring effort.
A soul with a tired consciousness. Had 'it' eyes, they would be gleaming.
'It' knew that this opportunity was going to quickly be lost now that the umbilical cord has been severed. The body has no means of pulling in oxygen or nutrients. The brain can only survive for a few minutes after the heart ceases to beat and this child has likely been suffocating longer than the minute since the elderly woman cut the cord.
'It' took a final look at the body and confirmed that it hasn't been dead long since the lips only beginning to blue. 'It' backed itself against the room's wall and prepared, then launched 'itself' at the soul.
~*~
The shock and conquer of the soul was quick. The soul left itself open for months as it tried to connect to the body. It barely had time to register the surprise of finding an external consciousness entering along the connection that it was using to reach out towards the body it was trying to enter.
This soul had lived many lives. Some insignificant, others grand. It had amassed strength through them all, or it couldn't have afforded the effort it took to whittle away an opening into this body's abnormal meridians.
It sighed at the absurdity of its death as the invading consciousness consumed its own.
~*~
Vera sobbed as she clutched at the body of her son as Martha handed his body to her. Her child. Her precious child. She cried at the injustice of having her son denied life. She didn't care if she lived or died at this point. She just wanted him to live.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
"Harrison! Quit cowering in the corner, come see our son." She called him as she fawned over the lifeless body resting in her arms as tears streaked her cheeks.
Her husband walked over to lay a hand on his son's lifeless body and shook his head. "He's beautiful, dear."
Vera nodded. "He his. What should we call him, Harrison. He needs a name."
He sighed at the absurdity, but decided to placate his grieving wife. "He needs a strong name. One that demands respect for a noble."
"What strong and respecting noble, Harrison? You were exiled here because you couldn't win against your brother. Besides, he needs something more than strength and respect in the afterlife. Something maybe something about new beginnings or rebirth." Vera clutched tightly at her child as the adrenaline left her body, leaving her weak.
For once in the past couple of days, Harrison surprised Vera. He sat on the bed and took her and his lifeless child in his arms and sat in silence for a few moments, offering what little support he could. "Let's call him Navin. One of the foreign traders that I met as a boy had a mentioned that his son was going to be called that. It means something close to new, I think."
Vera nodded and caressed her son's cheek. "Welcome to our family, Navin." She closed her eyes and wept.
~*~
Sound vibrated against the body and reverberated against eardrums. "Welcome to our family, Navin." The phrase continued along its newly awakened path from an oxygen deprived brain and into the soul.
Navin. A decent enough name, I suppose. The previous nameless consciousness mused to itself.
In the couple of minutes since it gained a soul and body, much work had been done. While short in the physical world, many lifetimes of acclimation needed to be performed with Navin's new soul and work done on the body.
The soul had experienced many lifetimes. While not nearly as old as the consciousness, it was still quite experienced. What was interesting was learning why it stuck around this body for so long.
It seems that during an incarnation two lifetimes back, the incarnation stumbled across a hermit during her travels (the soul incarnated as a woman at this time) as a bard. Searching for new tales to write about, she had heard a rumor about a recluse who was said to be a powerful mage who had been cursed and hid away in a run-down shack on the edge of a ramshackle village.
Deciding to learn the mage's story, she set off. Only, what she found was more than a story. After being turned away for several months through various means to win the old man over, she finally succeeded. It turned out that the man had not been cursed, at least not in the common sense. He was betrayed, crippled, and fled from his death.
It was all she could hope for an more. A song that would surely earn her many a night of food and lodging wherever she went. Her song was her ticket to immortality in the annals of bard history. At least, that was what she thought.
The man died before he could finish his tale.
Stuck with a dead body and a partial story, she was stuck. So, she decided to see if he left any record. Searching through the musty and dank room, she found a beaten and rusty box under a table after searching its surface for any writings on the man's past. Naturally, it was locked. But she easily solved that with a knife.
Looking inside the box, she nearly wet herself at what she found. Jade. Not just any jade, several slabs of it, all bound together with seven metal hoops in holes along their edges. On the slabs, which she quickly realized must be pages, was writing she did not recognize.
Over the following years, she continued her travels. She didn't sell the jade book. She considered it at first, but then became paranoid that maybe the old man being betrayed and crippled was because he was in possession of it. So, she showed no one.
She did investigate the language, though. She was always clever, so she developed a plan. Copying a long string of characters from one of the inner slabs that might make up a word onto paper, she commissioned a dagger made with the word engraved on it. Then she set about burning, rusting, and chipping away at it. This way she could ask around about an old dagger she found without it appearing she was researching a book or a language.
The plan was successful. After numerous libraries (she didn't want to risk appraisers finding out her fake dagger) and asking the scholars within what was inscribed she found the language to be Grivvith, an ancient language of a long-dead culture. Under the guise of learning new stories for her songs, she hunted down books on the culture and learned the language.
After nearly two decades, she could finally read the book. Along the search, she found that the people lived in the mountains of a neighboring country and studied the mysteries of the soul. Their study went beyond what scholars then and since knew. Nearly fifty millennia had passed since their secluded community was invaded and destroyed.
Why? None knew. The community had developed their own language to hide their secrets. It was rare that outsiders were allowed in, and more so that that their language or secrets were taught. The prevailing theory is that while outside the community, a disciple let a secret slip that an interested party was greedy for.
The invasion left only burned ruins. Since the community excelled in spiritual and medical teachings, only texts in these areas traded to other countries were left of their culture. Thankfully, invited scholars had made enough of an effort to study the culture and language prior to its destruction or there was no way for her to learn to read the jade book.
It was a treasure. At least, to her limited understanding of the material and knowledge that anything written in a precious material was likely to be. The book discussed the soul. Strengthening, studying past lives, projection of consciousness, divining future events, and developing the body's inner strength.
She had, of course, heard of martial experts who practiced inner strength. In the world, those who developed the body and utilized energy were highly sought after and developed as soldiers. So were mages who worked with external forces of the world, but they were less hearty and not suited for the military aside from long-range combat.
The book discussed topics that a commoner such as her never heard of. As a bard, she of course knew the broad strokes of heroic deeds that a martial expert could accomplish. This book went even further in explaining what could be accomplished. She could quickly see why a community of scholars would be decimated for knowledge if ambitious individuals learned of it.
For the rest of her life she studied the contents of the book. Her memories of other lives were awakened. She strengthened her soul to the point that it ensured she would never forget them on future incarnations. No longer was she a wandering bard. She was what the book called a cultivator.
Her past lives didn't cultivate in the special way that the book taught, but some did practice magic and martial arts. Enough to know that the contents of the book were very unique and precious. She didn't know if those who had the book before copied the contents, but she decided that it shouldn't be let loose in the world after her death. After learning all the book had to offer, she memorized and engraved the knowledge into her soul.
Then, she shattered the book and disposed of it in a blacksmith's forge. The remainder of her life was spent in solitude.
Once she died, the soul wandered and discovered it was like the teachings in the book said: there was control of where the soul could incarnate. In the incorporeal form, it could see people's auras. It sought out a mother with a strong one, assuming the mother would belong to a family with a wealth of knowledge in martial or magic cultivation.
The soul's next life was spent thus. Ironically, it turned out that the body it incarnated in was quite mediocre. Still, cultivation continued.
This led to the present, why the soul spent so long attempting to incarnate into Navin's. As the previous incarnation had a rather lackluster talent in developing the body's inner energy and working with external elemental forces, the adult years were spent as a scholar in the kingdom's library.
One day, an obscure account was stumbled upon in a medical text. Written in Grivvith. It discussed a rare birth of a child with unique meridians and no soul.
If the child hadn't been born as the disciple passed through the village of the child's birth, the account wouldn't have been found. Knowing that the disciple staying at the inn had medical knowledge, he was called to try and save the baby. He was unsuccessful.
After apologizing to the parents, he went back to the inn. However, the disciple noticed something unique when examining the body. That the body had no soul and repulsed all attempts at pushing inner energy into it to discover why it was dying.
For babies who die in the mother's womb, this is not uncommon. However, the child's body was alive at the time of birth. It should have a soul to keep it alive. The other oddity was with the meridians rejecting energy.
After the funeral, the disciple dug the body up during the night and left the village so it could be studied. The cause for the baby's death was determined due to its unique meridians. The body was kept alive by the mother, and once separated it died. The soul couldn't attach because the meridians pushed it away.
The disciple hypothesized that were a soul to attach to the body, such meridians could be cultivated and become quite robust as they were already able to resist the world's desire to fill them with energy. However, their operation would need to be reversed to do so and such a struggle would either cripple the body or exhaust the soul of energy before pushing through to incarnate.
Thus, the prior incarnation spent the following years developing the soul with more dedication shown than ever. After death, the soul wandered for a year and spent nearly a tenth of its energy on the journey until it found this body.
Navin found this account quite humorous. Had the soul not wandered as long, he wouldn't have gained a soul or body. He also already suspected at this body's potential. He was quite pleased.
After assimilating the memories, his consciousness had branched out and began working itself through the meridians. This was quite difficult, more so than assimilating the memories and consuming the soul's consciousness. This was because the soul had to push itself along the path and enter the opening in one of the meridians the prior consciousness had finally opened up before the hole could repair itself with what little of the body's life remained.
Battling against the flow was quite strenuous. Not only must the soul be pushed through the opening, the consciousness must spread throughout the meridians. Only then can energy begin circulating through the channels. Not only this, because of opposing flow of the meridians trying to expunge energy out of the body, work to reverse the flow must be done. Risking not only the rupture of meridians and turning the body into a cripple, but exhausting the already depleted soul and also risking the dispersal of his consciousness in the process.
It was exhausting work. Gradually, he pushed forward against the flow and pulled behind where he had already been; working towards the each energy center of the spiritual body's energy channels. If a military tactician were watching, they might relate the process as conquering territory and creating bases to help fight against enemy resistance.
Finally, he succeeded. Just as the process was complete, he gave his dispersed consciousness a yank; reversing the flow of energy and setting his meridians and channels into proper order. At the same time, he gasped a deep breath and let out a cry. Opening his eyes, he looked up at two startled and surprised faces.