Day eleven.
The group had crossed through seven lava-streams so far, and the surrounding landscape was slowly changing to an arid-wasteland kind. They had finally reached the mountains, and the terrain was much smoother, darker, and relatively stable. If nothing else, the svartalfars could terraport through these zones, while Lukas and Tanya could just shoot through the air, jumping from cliff to cliff.
It was a good morning.
“We’ve a good day ahead,” said Mori, terraporting next to him. “I’m sensing lochil around.”
And there was the second change. Ever since the incident with the ifrits, the female svartalfar’s behavior had gone through a radical shift. She still spoke dispassionately, which he was believing was a character quirk of her race, but there was a fire somewhere deep down behind her mannerisms. She would open up conversations, and was genuinely trying to get to know him, timing their interactions whenever Tanya was doing her aerial duties.
Coincidentally, Tanya’s disposition had gotten worse over the last couple of days.
“I’m sorry,” said Lukas, “did you say you can sense it?”
Mori gave him the blank stare he had gotten familiar with. ‘I’m a sensor. Kradir is an extractor. We said that before we started off for this mission.”
Did she? Maybe somewhere between her droning. Or maybe she had said it in that manner specifically to throw him off? One could never really be sure about these people.
“You… did. But these aren’t just pure metals. These are ores. Particles fused with other metals, dirt, rocks. You can’t tell me you can just sense every single particle within the crust.” He paused for a moment. “Can you?”
Mori cocked her head, studying him. “You have some knowledge of metal extraction.”
“Only in passing.”
Mori nodded, as if considering. “What is this knowledge worth to you? You’re not a terramancer.”
Aha. She would tell him, but was fishing to see if she could get something out of it. And no, she was wrong. He was a terramancer. Technically, he could do all the ‘mancy’ that existed in this world, as long as he could siphon a creature capable of the same.
“Perhaps you wish to sell this information to other terramancers of your kind?”
That… was a valid question. The thing was, bremetan terramancers could do the same. Like, if they really, really, really wanted to, they could do it. Bremetans could pull off almost anything other beings could do, if they wanted to work at it.
Especially when they involved kami into this mess.
He shrugged. “Just idle curiosity.”
“I see,” Mori said without emotion, “Knowledge for the sake of knowledge. A rare trait that is lost in the race for Potential.”
Lukas had the weirdest feeling that he had avoided a trap. That or came out answering a question without sounding stupid or hostile.
And then Mori did something odd. She grabbed both of his hands and held them open. Putting her thin, and comparatively tinier palms into his, staring at him with her huge, dark eyes. “Close your eyes, silence your ears, and feel.”
Before he could even prepare himself, Lukas was overwhelmed with a rush of images and alien sensations, contacting a power so intense and coherent that for a moment, he thought he was back at the Crypt, connecting to its awareness. In that single moment, Lukas saw the ponderous dance of continents clashing against each other to form mountains, felt the slow sleepiness of the earth, the immense power that was released upward as lava that flowed across the terrain. He saw metals — jewels and coal and endless stretches of basalt and other substances he had never even heard of, being created by the millions and disintegrated in an endless march of time.
Bringing the fullest power of Tachypsychia, Lukas fought to contain those images, control and divert them away, instead focussing on what Mori was trying to show him. In his mind, he was diving straight into the crust, dividing into a gazillion different mental branches and furrowing through endless pathways through the labyrinth that was the terrain. One moment he was caught in a whirlwind of molten stone and the other, he was feeling a strange, purplish energy oozing out of an orange rock that felt like it would—
Lochil Identified
Creation process Available Within heterography Conglomerate
And just like that, the spell broke.
Lukas physically pushed himself back, his head seething against the raw pressure he had felt. Had he carried on just a little more, his skull would probably have shattered. Anomaly or not, he was a frail wisp of mortality beside the energy within, which could literally move mountains, level cities, shift river courses and stir oceans in their beds.
Blinking several times, Lukas looked around, shaking his head, and doing his best to ignore the constant hammering against his skull. Neural Suppression salvaged the situation a bit, but not enough to ignore it.
“That was—”
“The terrain,” Mori replied without the slightest affliction. “I’m surprised you could keep up so far.”
“I could feel it,” Lukas admitted. The sensation of having his own perception branch away into endless tendrils, each of them sensing a completely different substance with its own unique constitution, energy, and spiritual feel — he would not forget that any time soon. “That was my perception dividing over and over and—”
Mori laughed. It sounded like a weird mix of a cough and a cackle. “That wasn’t your perception, Stranger. That was mine. You were merely feeling the echoes reflected upon your own mind. It takes great fortitude to be aware of the constant branching of perceptions like that. Perhaps you have the potential to be a Psion.” She tilted her head slightly, studying him. “Perhaps you have already started down that path.”
“Uh, maybe,” He replied, feeling a little flustered. The entire geo-sensing episode had thrown him off.
“Perhaps you have a latent talent for sensory skills? The Zwaray Keep is always looking out for those.”
“Something wrong?” said Tanya, landing next to him. She did that a lot, especially when Mori was around.
“Uh, Mori was just—”
“Offering him a job.”
Lukas almost winced at her bluntness.
“What job?”
Mori tuned her out and focussed back on him. “I understand you are Asukan, and a pyromancer, but in the end, your constitution feels… more in common with us. There is something earthly about you,” she gestured with her arm as though to show the terrain beneath them. “You have power, but you wield it crudely. The Zwaray Keep could help you hone it.”
And what did THAT little invitation say about him? He couldn’t help but wonder. Perhaps she was talking about the Anomaly in him, which was, after all said and done, a world? Svartalfars were creatures of the terrain, and Earth had very much been a physical realm before things went sky high. Still…
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Tanya seemed to have sensed his hesitation, and he glanced down in surprise as he felt a tug and realized that she had pinched the edge of his shirt. She was looking away, refusing to match his surprised look, a hard expression settling on her face.
Was she fearing he’d accept their proposal?
More importantly, did he want to?
Svartalfars symbolized a transition between the new world and the old. They maintained their nordic roots, their enchantments and their faith. The nordic runes were supposed to perform all sorts of mystical enchantments, both physical and esoteric. The sheer diversity of species involved, their culture and their history, all of it made for a far more lucrative option than the Asukan Empire, which, to his knowledge, were a bunch of control-freaks selling their soul for the ability to mana craft.
There was just one tiny problem.
Tanya.
Inanna had invested part of her divine energies in sealing the power within her. She had described Tanya’s power as catastrophic, something just as ancient and devastating as herself. So long as Tanya stood on the Asukan side, he’d too. But if he could convince her to change sides then…
Lukas cocked his head. Well, that left multiple possibilities for the future, didn’t it?
“I already have a kami, and I’ve progressed too far to have second thoughts. But tell you what? If this mission becomes a success, we can talk about this sensing thing.”
“I figured as much,” Mori shrugged, not sounding surprised in the least. “Still, the offer stands.”
Fucking hell. Just what did she see in him if she was going to give a standing offer to join the Keep? Svartalfars held nothing but disdain for Asukans. Period. You couldn’t get simpler than that. And what was with every dubious power he came across in this world that made them always extend offers to join them?
First Inanna, but at least she had her reasons. What with the pendant and the Omphalos and everything else. But then Solana entered the picture, with her legends and prophecies about apocalyptic heralds. Tanya… he just encountered her by chance and because of Inanna’s machinations, he ended up in Zuken Banksi’s care, who didn’t look like he wanted his fancy Outsider to leave him at any cost, and now this.
“I didn’t think poaching was part of svartalfar protocol,” Tanya replied frostily. He wasn’t being metaphorical. Her skin actually felt ice cold.
“It isn’t poaching if he’s a direct dealer. We already have an existing job contract with him and his related associates, one of which just happens to be you.”
Tanya grabbed his arm tighter. “That may be, but he is with me. This mission is supposed to be a training montage for him while ensuring your protection. So why don’t you focus on your sensing and extracting and leave the pyromancer to practice his pyromancy?”
Mori met his eyes and gave him an edged smile. “The offer stands.”
And then she vanished into the earth.
“Bitch!” Tanya murmured in a level voice, glaring at the earth where Mori had vanished. Narrowing her eyes, she regarded Lukas firmly. “And you should be more careful. It’s obvious that they think you’re the one that can get them more featherglass. They’re trying to cut off everyone else by stringing you into one of their pacts.”
“Which is why you came to rescue me.”
Tanya didn’t look up at his eyes as she said, “Yes.”
“Great,” he replied, “so long we understand each other.”
“No kidding,” she whispered. “But she isn’t wrong. Not completely. Even Zuken noticed it.”
Lukas tilted his head.
“You have power, no doubt about that. Probably more power than anyone else I’ve seen, except for maybe…” she paused, hesitant, “except my grandfather. I know you have a Level-3 skill, considering some things you pull off. But your control is… crude. I’ve seen spiritists with Level-1 skills that have better control than you do.”
Her words sounded harsh, but he had to agree. Inanna had told him it took years, if not decades, for someone to move from a Level-2 to a Level-3. He still remembered the days when he had run around the Crypt, having to choose his battles or become food to some monster. And even then, he had the advantage of kinetomancy and an absurd healing skill.
But things had changed ever since he had gained the Soul Siphon function. With it, skills became something to leech out of his prey after killing them. What took days and weeks and months to even develop a Level-1, he got them for free. Warmonger Protocol had granted him more lifeforce and mana than he knew what to do with. He had deteriorated from a weak but smart fighter to a rampaging berserker demolishing his opponents with pure power. No wonder Inanna held such a disdain for his actions. For someone that had to climb the hierarchy leaving a body count in the thousands, Lukas was possibly the greatest mockery of her achievements.
“You say you have the power to use all elements, and I’ve already seen you use fire, ether and now terramancy. Your lifeforce is off the charts. Your healing skills, beyond comprehension. Someone of your resources deserves to rule over a nation, not working for Banksi as an adventurer.”
Lukas cocked his head. “Pot, meet kettle. You’ve got an ECR others can only dream about. Your skills in Aeromancy are beyond anything Banksi or Olfric could ever imagine, and your Frost defies comprehension. Think you deserve this life? Working under Banksi? Choosing one prison for another?”
Tanya glared at him. “This isn’t about me.”
“Of course it isn’t. It never is.”
Tanya turned to leave, but Lukas grabbed her hand. She turned back, surprised.
“My skills are quaint, but I wasn’t born yesterday, Tanya. I’ve seen the life you’ve chosen for yourself. A slave to masters who deserve to get crumpled underfoot. Instead, you keep your head low. You live like an outcast, mocked by those that are below you. I know. I’ve faced you at your worst, back in that anomaly. Zuken says you have a powerful kami, but something tells me that your strongest card isn’t that, but your Frost.”
“We are not talking about it!” She hissed, snatching her hand away.
“Of course we aren’t. We don’t even need to. I already know why.”
That got her attention. Her blue eyes narrowed at Lukas. “Alright. Why?”
“Because you’re ruled by fear. You are afraid.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Afraid? Of what?”
“Of what you could be if you let yourself astray. Afraid of the power you could use. You’ve thought about what it might be to wield it and bend the world to your will. What you could have. What you could… become. I’ve seen the way you look at Zuken’s house. It’s not a look of jealousy or awe. It’s sadness. Some part of you finds joy in the idea of using your power to take what you wish. And you are afraid.”
Lukas had come full circle.
Back in the anomaly, he had stood where Tanya was standing now. He had been the defiant individual, rejecting the allure of power. He had faced the Goddess of Desire and told her no to her face, denying himself true Power because he feared what that would make him. What She would make him.
And now, he was standing in Inanna’s shoes, talking down to an equally reluctant and self-denying Tanya.
She wanted to deny his words, but she couldn’t. Or at least, he didn’t let her.
“Don’t justify it with lies,” Lukas said. “Neither Zuken, nor Olfric has any idea what having that sort of power would be like. You might try to mingle with them and pretend you are one of them, but you are not. Just like I am not. You, me, we’re rule breakers. Trying to pretend otherwise is just denial.”
Tanya gnashed her teeth. “You — you’ve no idea what you’re talking about. You don’t know a single thing about me.”
Lukas pressed further. “I think I know enough. More than you allow yourself to know, anyway. After all, it was I that sealed your Frost deep within your psyche, returning you your sanity.”
Tanya flinched, like he had slapped her.
Lukas laughed. It was cruel. “You know what’s ironic? That you, back in the anomaly, she tried to enthrall me. Break me. Find out my secrets even if it costs me my life. But guess what? She had more backbone than you do.”
Rage flickered in her eyes. “You dare—”
“It’s the truth,” Lukas continued regardless. “You’re hiding in Haviskali, keeping things low-key, because that’s what you’ve always done. Run. From your powers, your ability. From that heritage that births that Frost. It’s all you know how to do.”
“Shut up!” She snarled. “Just. Shut. Up. Don’t turn this into something about me. And be mindful of what you say about Banksi. Outsider or not, you might just end up biting more than you can chew.”
“Well, fuck that!” said Lukas. “I’m not gonna cower with my tail between my legs. If I stir shit up, then so be it.”
Her face fell, and she replied in a morbid tone. “You’ll die.”
Lukas couldn’t help it. He snorted. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
With that enigmatic statement, he shot upward into the air, leaving an open-mouthed Tanya to her thoughts.