Zane blinked at the Spirit.
“…How do I do that?”
Trial by fire, said the Spirit. Its face was as stern as always, but Zane got the sense it was enjoying seeing him a little stumped.
You must project your soul! But there's no guide to it. The only way to know is to find it yourself. It’s a matter of feeling.
With that rather unhelpful tip in hand, Zane turned back to the drake. It started opening its mouth. And a smoldering blackness gathered in the depths of its throat; a wicked heat poured out like some hellish furnace opening.
I’d hurry if I were you.
The Spirit was definitely enjoying this. It was even smiling a little.
Zane frowned at it. Then he closed his eyes, sank his mind deep into his body. Feeling things out.
He heard a rumbling before him—felt a tide of heat washing over, crackling, sizzling, felt sparks of it pricking at the edges of his soul….
Here it comes! said the Spirit.
Zane took a deep breath, probing deeper. In… out… in…
The fires blasted him in the face.
A crashing wave of smoldering shadow-flame—but his Red Moon Shield flickered up too, instantly blocking it off. The flames splashed against the barrier, sputtering out harmless. Zane heard the Spirit sigh.
This is meant to be harrowing, you know, grumbled the Spirit. The Red Moon Emperor was just about soiling himself at this part. He ignored it.
He was noticing something interesting now that he paid close attention. His soul-body was not as solid as he’d first thought. It was pretty fuzzy at the edges. And his insides all felt the same.
He scratched his head.
It was not really a body, now that he looked at it. It was more like… a bucket. A bucket that held the stuff of his soul.
The shape of him was simply how he perceived himself. Big enough to hold all his soul. But that was all.
“Huh,” said Zane.
This made a good deal of sense to him, actually. He had felt just how squishy his soul was when he had brought it into his body during his Nascent Soul breakthrough.
If you thought about it like that, maybe Skills were sort of like shapes. Shapes that held essence and soul.
It popped into his head as an idle thought, more of a feeling than anything. But the moment he had it something seemed to click. It just felt right.
In Zane’s experience, if it felt right, it was. He seemed to have a pretty good sense of these things. Reina thought it was more than that—she was sure he had a gift for it, maybe because of his soul. That bit Zane wasn’t so sure about. But it was how he tended to learn Laws and Skills. It was a good thing to trust his intuition.
In the background, he got blasted in the face again. The drake made a whining sound.
I know, I know, sighed the Spirit. But what am I supposed to do about it? Just look at him!
Zane kept prodding around in his soul. Tried extending the shape a bit, right around the belly—and the moment he did he knew he was right. It did feel like it kind of fluid. It stretched just as his shape did.
It was tied to how he thought of himself, he realized.
He kept poking around with it, fascinated. Trying to loosen the hard boundaries of himself. He quickly found changing his body shape here wasn’t so easy.
First—his size made making any big changes pretty hard. But it was deeper than that. He thought about transforming his fist into another shape—maybe a hammer—and got whacked with a splitting migraine instantly.
He groaned.
It seemed Zane simply did not believe he was a man with hammer-fists. It was a matter of identity, of ego. It wasn’t so easy to change on a whim.
Maybe he didn’t really need to change it, though. Maybe he could just loosen the shape in places—pour some of his soul-stuff out. Release some of himself to chuck into an attack.
“Hmm,” said Zane.
Another hot blast whacked him in the face.
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He felt like he might be able to do it, if he really focused… it was worth giving a shot, he supposed.
This one’s not so easy, is it? said the Spirit, stroking its beard. It sounded distinctly smug. Perhaps Red Moon Pagoda isn’t so simple after all! Which is to be expected—it is a venerable treasure of the Dragonspyre Galaxy. If you thought you could stroll in here willy-nilly and clear its Skills in a day—
Zane raised one big hand.
Light streamed out from him. Gathering before him, making a blob, burgeoning fast, growing more solid each passing second. Zane just held it there, brow creased, as it trembled—it wasn’t an easy thing.
He had to cradle it with his will from the outside. And hold it together from his inside too, pulling with his soul itself. It was quite a strange sensation, pushing and pulling, keeping the shape. But the more he poured the more he felt solid with it.
His main body dimmed as that blob grew bigger and brighter.
The Pagoda Spirit choked off, eyes bulging. It was quiet for a few seconds. Then it hung its head and sighed. …And of course you’ve got it already.
“What now,” said Zane.
You seem to have things figured out, said the Spirit.
“…aren't you supposed to be helping me?” said Zane, a bit perplexed.
You don't need my help. You're doing things just fine. Go on—find a way to kill it.
He got the sense the Spirit was a little miffed. Then—Alright, alright. Fine! Well done—but you're not done yet! You'll have to shape it now. Make a weapon of it, whatever you like: spear, sword, flame if you want. Then wield it.
Zane blinked at the Spirit. Then at the drake, which was also patiently waiting for him. It appeared to have given up on blasting him. It had accepted its fate.
He inspected the shapeless shining purple blob floating above. It was like a giant boulder now, churning with thick currents of soul… there was quite a bit of weight on it. It shone at least as bright as the drake.
He considered how he would go about shaping it. There was a lot of soul floating there—it was quite hard just keeping it up. He got the feeling changing its shape would be quite a headache.
Then—
“Do I have to make a weapon,” said Zane.
The Spirit stared at him. Of course! How else do you plan on slaying it?
“Why can’t I just drop it.”
What—as is?
“Yes.”
The Pagoda paused. Squinted at Zane’s blob. …I mean—
Zane dropped it. The drake shrieked.
There was a crunch, and then a silence.
His blob rolled over.
The drake had been flattened quite nicely. It was mostly a bloody splotch, with chunks of bone sticking out here and there.
Skill learned!
Emperor’s Might [Legendary (S)]
Nice.
…That… that’s not— the Pagoda Spirit was twitching a little. That’s not how this exercise is supposed to go.
It seemed to work out for Zane, though. He happily put away his blob.
You’re meant to shape it into a weapon, said the Spirit. That… was not supposed to be enough to kill it.
“I am big,” Zane informed the Pagoda Spirit.
I can see that, snapped the Spirit. It took a deep breath, pinched the bridge of its nose—But that’s not—it’s—you know what? Here.
It waved a hand—and a new ghost began to form. A broader shadow, lengthening fast—soon it eclipsed the size of the drake, rising to towering heights. Four heads, each drooling black tar, smoking black flames, eyes piercing red….
Greater Mutant Shadow Drake (Essence Level 399)
Zane considered it.
You see? said the Spirit. What happens when you meet something you can’t simply smash? At some point you’ll have to—
It cut off.
Because right then, a new blob was beginning to form.
The blob got bigger.
Zane Walker! said the Spirit. You can’t simply—
It choked off.
Since at that point the blob had swelled past the size of the drake, looming over it, drenching the realm in shocking Stormfire purple. It was like a scene out of time, a freeze-frame of a meteor about to wipe out a dinosaur.
“…”
The Greater Drake shrieked.
Zane dropped his blob.
CRUNCH.
His blob rolled away. The Spirit looked like it didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Zane nodded, quite pleased.
There really was a simple pleasure to bigness. After all that confusion today, this was a nice healing moment. It was just as he’d thought—bigger was better. This experience was restoring his worldview quite nicely.
You can’t just keep sitting on them! cried the Spirit, throwing up its hands. You have to actually use the Skill—that's how you Level it up!
“Okay fine,” said Zane.
The next time it summoned a creature—some Earth Giant—Zane gave his blob a shape. Made it a bit smaller on one end, a bit bigger on the other. He named it the ‘Club of Zane,’ and whacked the thing. It got the job done nicely.
Skill up!
Emperor’s Might I -> II
Next the Spirit chucked up a Bog Hippo. It was much like a normal hippo—but bigger, messier, and muddier, with two tombstone-like front teeth.
This time Zane added a spike to his club. It was more of a dulled tooth than a real spike, but he was happy with his progress. WHACK!
Skill up!
Emperor’s Might II -> III
It didn’t take many more whacks before he could fashion his soul into all the basic shapes. Triangles, rectangles. Rectangles on triangles—something like a sword. The shape didn’t much matter—they all squished the same—but he enjoyed playing around with it anyway.
Good grief, muttered the Spirit. Well! After this, any Ascendants you come across had better pray they’ve got some damned strong soul-shields—and even then… It shuddered. That thing is frankly terrifying.
“What thing.”
It just gestured to Zane. Or rather, his soul-body.
“Oh.”
Zane was getting a bit exhausted by the end of the session. But he had made good progress. It still wasn’t easy—even moving his soul around took a lot of effort. But he could see a clear path to that next Stormfire Concept.
Now he’d gotten this far, he also saw how much there was left to go. Making basic static shapes was not the same thing as lighting raging Stormfire. He would have to use those Skills in the physical plane and the astral, all at once….
He wasn’t so convinced anymore he could put it together with just Law Visions. To get Plasma and Focused Intensity he had to experience greater Stormfires in flesh. He needed one more piece. But he felt pretty close.
Skill up!
Emperor’s Might IV -> V
That’s as far as you go before Ascendant, said the Spirit. It looked like it had been through a lot. I suppose I’ll see you then. In the meantime… I am going to take a very long nap.