September 20th, 3522.
Tess fidgeted as she was enraptured by Master Burhan’s lesson on shamanism, and the spirits spiraled around her in an endless dance of spiritual energy.
“The life of a shaman is a harsh one Theresa, a path very few channelers can walk.” Tess nodded, agreeing with his words. All channelers, all people who could deliberately move subtle energy had a touch of the other to them.
But to be a shaman was to be like brother and sister to impossible beings and forms, to commune with living lightning and raw minds of fear and horror, to understand the truth of the world. Shamans had once upon a time been scorned as aliens, as changelings, as beings blessed by God or bewitched by demons and dark spirits.
She understands that much.
“You have seen the spirits with the World Eyes, and seen their Form with a deeper and more fundamental sight. But you have never traveled into the immaterial world, walked along worn paths of crystal and black stone, sailed across oceans of flesh and maws of infinite gravity. Have you seen the living dirges riding solar winds and with beating monopole hearts?” His voice rebounded in her mind, pulsing along the wavelengths of the universe.
To Tess, it hadn't even occurred to her how great the scale of the higher layers of reality was. The layers of the Spirit were superimposed across every world; it was at the very core of how Void Rail travel worked, sliding between the Real and the Spirit to travel at tens of millions of times the speed of light.
“I can give you an explanation on the Spirit World if you need it, to grant more understanding of today’s lesson?” Burhan’s dry tone told her this explanation was not optional.
“Please do,” she begged and he chuckled. “That would help a lot.”
The older shaman gently massaged at the fabric of existence, glorious light spilling out from his eyes. “You know of the layers of Creation, the Inner Sphere, the material plane. The Outer Sphere, the land between, the High Spirit, the spiritual plane, and the Abstract, the domain of fundamental concepts and gods. Imagine the universe as a great ocean, with the countless mortal worlds as islands floating in an ocean of limitless depth. Those islands are the most solid and obvious, and the boundary surface of that ocean is the Outer Sphere, the reflection of this world and the gauntlet between the Physical and the Metaphysical. The High Spirit is the countless layers of the ocean, and the Abstract is the deepest and most mysterious, the source of the ocean itself.”
Tess leaned forward, fingers tapping incessantly against her thighs as she rested on her knees while her teacher did the same.
“The Spirit World is life itself, rolled up into a world of endless ecstasies and terrors. The soul of the world given Form, given Purpose.” He said with an easy grin as he prodded at the gauntlet with delicate fingers. “The iwa, the kamui, the kami, the mun, the spirits are beings of energy, emanating from events in our world. Shamanism is instinct, a sharing of ideas, defiance and appeasement of the spirit in equal measure. We heal, we solve problems among our community, and protect them from the dangers of the spirit world.”
Her face scrunched up at the idea that people needed protection from the spirits. But then… she was not like others, she understood spirits on a level that most could never attain and they were still alien, their logic wasn't mortal, and their rules were not that of mortals.
Spirits of plague couldn't be considered friends of mortals.
“So what are you planning to teach me today?” He was working up to something bigger, she could tell. Tess had a hard time understanding people but she did still have a brain.
Burhan smirked. “Today I will teach you how to cross the divide, how to step sideways into the Spirit World.” Tess went stiff like a board, tongue clicking in anticipation.
She had seen the spirits since she was a small child, but she had never touched them so directly, never demanded of them their power, only treated them like playmates and noisy neighbors.
“Teach me.” She almost demanded, but Tess flushed at his single raised eyebrow.
But he continued the lesson. “The World Eyes is the first step in the spiritual ways, to see across to other realities. That alone is a journey.”
He was right, to see into the higher realms was to be partially blinded in the material world. She could see both clearly, but that was a matter of natural skill and talent and it made her easily distractible. Countless spirits vied for her attention and power and made it harder to just be. Her body trembled with nervous energy, I want to understand.
“Now open your eyes, feel the texture of the gauntlet, where it has been worn thin through the careful supplication of the world and cultivation of energies.” The world turned milky as she reached for her vision, and she threw out her hand to touch the rift twisting between the two shamans.
There were several ways to enter the Spirit World, those she had learned in class and in personal lessons with Burhan. There were natural portals, physical manifestations of the connection between Mortal and Spirit worlds, passable by anyone. There were rifts, subtle warps in the fabric of the physical world that could be manipulated to teleport a shaman into a fixed point in the Spirit. Astral projection was another, letting a shaman’s mind drift into the planes to go on journeys. Some shamans could create their own rifts, passing into the higher levels of reality with ease.
The Void Rails were the closest they had come technologically to creating portals, bringing objects closer to the Spirit World with immense alterations to the fabric of space. A tunnel of hyper-FTL space using trillions of lines of code to carefully run and shape the field of altered hyperrealities.
She remembers the equations and complex field metrics of shor fields and pulls on that quiet and subtle rift in the universe. Almost immediately she was assaulted by a kaleidoscope of visions and colors out of space.
She saw light.
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Tess opened her eyes.
Her heart was beating in her ears like a drum, blood rushing to her face as she was hit by the noise and the endless song underlying the world around her. She looked down and saw that she and Burhan were sitting around a campfire, twisting with all the colors of the sky, from cerise down to periwinkle.
It's so bright, why is it so bright?
The membrane had peeled back under her careful massaging, and she felt her body tingle with the sense of others in the air. Sweat slicked down her forehead, and she felt her inner fire to balance herself.
Channeling didn't always work right in the Spirit World, a common convention was that certain forms like the Elemental Martial Arts couldn't function with the energies native to the Spirit World. Psychic abilities continued to function and manipulating your body’s rūh couldn't be stripped away. The fifth element was the only exception, simply because of what it was. To kill Void was to kill Spirit, a contradiction in terms.
But she could reach for the fire of her soul here because that ironclad rule wasn't.
Tess took deep breaths, filling her lungs with air flowing within spiritual and paracausal spacetime. Just relax, be calm.
She opened her eyes to her surroundings and was awed by the outside and how it had changed. The trees were much taller, blazing with an aura of power, sparks flying off in endless circuitous loops. Even the rocks felt alive, stone shifting like living skin. And the air was like the first breath of spring and the last breath of winter.
In the skies above she saw the Moon and Sun rising like divine avatars of nature, and she felt no words on her tongue.
She remembered the old stories, Khepri was the first mother and father to all things in heaven and hell, the godflame that birthed the world. From her solar embrace were born all the planets in heaven, and in turn were born the Great Spirits, the planets her children, and the moons her grandchildren.
But they were not her only children. The oldest was the Moon and Ocean, born of cosmic disaster and stellar rain, then came Kukulkan, the raging storm born from the winds that trampled a hostile Earth.
Then finally came Guanyin, the element of earth born from rising tectonic plates and a heart of flaming iron. The one who listens, she and him and they of compassion, the heavenly Lord of Earth. But in the old stories, Khepri never had children who could understand the godflame as she could… so in a fit of need she created the dragons as her children of flesh and in spirit.
This was the world where the gods held their throne worlds, and Tess was mesmerized. The sun and moon were huge in the sky, glistening like diamonds and blinking like mad globular eyes of gold and silver. The clouds went up to the edge of endless space, made out of writhing masses of air spirits, like flocks of white streamers and bubbling mist.
The trees were vast, pillars hundreds of meters high and full of glorious, glorious light. Their spot was an outcropping of obsidian along a spiraling mountain studded in golden gears, frothing rivers cutting through vast forests, and a city full of life was spread out before them, skyscrapers made of wood and metal fused as cybernetic gods while bestial vehicles and bullet trains ran the roads, the skies, and the rails. Streams of computer code fluttered down below or shot off on sunbeams and moonbeams and vanished into the void of space.
The mist of the Spirit couldn't conceal ten thousand eyes blinking at them from the darkness, almost all of them focused on Burhan, and her eyes burned. She could make out his essence, spirits walking with him. Tuslakh shrieked with the sound of gears on gears, and something vast swam in her vision before winking out of sight as Burhan’s aura faded.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“What was that?” She asked gently, and he smiled.
“I walk with the spirits young shaman, they lend me power and reputation in this dream of ours,” the dusky-skinned man spoke with authority as he gestured for her to follow. “One day you’ll have your own court of spirits to count on.”
Tess nodded, feeling off-put by the sheer power of her teacher. There were many ways to deal with spirits, as every spirit was unique and bound to rules only known to themselves.
The way it had been described, both spirits and souls were of a very similar kind and yet different all the same. It was their structure that made them different, a soul could be described as a perfectly frictionless sphere, while a spirit is textured more like sandpaper. A spirit had many, many applications but was vulnerable to certain kinds of manipulation like the invocation of shamans or certain weaknesses and restrictions on their behavior. It was why spirits could be vulnerable to salt, why they were bound so tightly to what they are, and it was a vital difference between man and spirit.
They walked within the forest made of spirit quintessence, the reflection of the physical world quivering with life.
“This will be a more intense lesson, the spirits are far stronger in their native world. Invocation and tithes will be your allies here. Prayers offer power and ingratiate the spirits, whether through word, song, dance, runes or ceremonies. A tithe is a ritual payment, a request of longer-term aid, teaching, and service.”
“Is that how spirits are appeased and cultivated to help us?” Her question received an affirmative nod from the older shaman.
“And if your soul is strong enough, you can Demand a spirit to aid you. Most spirits will be begrudged, but dominating one can earn you their respect and loyalty.” Tess didn't nod but did understand. Animal spirits were the easiest to Demand, if your soul was stronger than theirs they would listen and listen well. “Now tell me, where do you want to go?”
He wants me to choose, doesn't he?
Tess watched the Spirit World, and found a point of interest, a distant glen that reflected like gold from the surface waters of a large pond. She could smell it, a mix of citrus crossed with ultraviolet and old paper. There was something there, vital, important, needed.
“I know where we have to go, but I need help to reach it.” She pointed to the Golden Glen and Burhan’s eyes twinkled.
“Then see if you can make an ally.” Tess nodded, and reached out not just with her hands but with her soul. There was a nearly limitless range of spirits, and a handful responded to her call.
An owl emerged from the tree tops, four silent wings beating along the air. Silver eyes stared into her soul, as it landed on a flickering tree branch.
“Marked Child. You have called for my aid,” The spirit animal spoke in a clipped fashion, why do the spirits call me that. “Have you come to bargain?” Tess tensed up but kept her cool.
There was a sense, a smell of resonance from the spirit. He was an Owl, yes but he was also a spirit of knowledge and wisdom. He would know how to reach the Golden Glen.
“I have, wise owl spirit,” she was nervous and it seemed to show when the imperious owl’s face softened. Tess flushed, from a purely practical view sympathy helped a lot. From an emotional one however, it was embarrassing
“What knowledge do you seek, Marked Child?” His voice vibrated in her mind and with a confident strut she approached the spirit. Burhan watching with folded arms.
“How to arrive at the Golden Glen.”
The pure white owl narrowed his eyes, wings fluttering silently, head cocking to the side “Then it must be an exchange of knowledge for knowledge, what can you teach me child of a distant land?”
Tess smiled. “I can teach you about my home, what I learned from the eyes of its creatures.” Swift-Feather was an excellent guide to adventure in her old rural home.
The owl extended his wings in a bow. “Then please, let us converse on the secrets of the universe.” Tess beamed.
Yes we shall, it’s going well so far. Nothing can go wrong so far.
Her teacher flinched.
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Xinji cracked a bone with her jaw, her tongue gently scraping off bone marrow, her teeth raking back and forth to crush her chewing food into powder. She was lingering close to the forest where shamans honed their craft, lounging about until her friend returned.
The strange human was interesting, strong, curious, and fiercely intelligent. There was a feeling, an aura of safety that put her at ease. It reminded her of the primatriarchs, the ultimate leaders of her people. There was a fiery quality to her energy that couldn't be avoided.
She was drawn to her. But she’d be damned if she’d let the girl know. She didn't need Tess to grow a big head. She was a headache without growing a massive ego.
A child of fire indeed.
Humanity was a distant figure to Xinji, thousands of light-years of distance and being a secondary species left them as rather unimportant in her mind. For every human there were two and a half astarans, four chitta, six khemin, nine diderik and twelve panadim. They made up less than three percent of the population of the known galaxy.
But they had left waves in their wake with their power and history, very few had a history of channeling as ancient as theirs and their population growth meant they were likely to somewhat catch up within a handful of centuries. Their disputes with the zhent and the attempted conquest of the Astaran Empire had spurred a rapid burst in technological development.
Humanity had advanced swiftly, a combination of reverse engineering ancient technology and partnerships with other astaran nations had allowed them to catch up within a period of three decades. The Verge Wars had done a lot of damage to the galaxy, so Xinji understood how it was possible for humanity to grow so fast.
I’ve seen firsthand how they’ve disrupted the world, they share their secrets freely unlike the kanaloaa and have a greater background in the paracausal arts than the khemin or other races.
Xinji thought back to her trip across the galaxy, witnessing the gleaming fleets of the Khepri system, dreadnoughts two kilometers long, escorted by six battleships and thirty cruisers at any time. Humanity ruled fifty clusters, eight hundred star systems patrolled by a fleet a hundred thousand strong.
“Well when she–” She cut herself off, feeling a chill up her spine. Focused she listened and found no sound other than light footsteps, and turned to find an unsteady Sveta with a too pale face. “What are you doing here?” She hissed, feathers and fur rustled up in a defensive response.
“To… to apologize to Theresa,” the astaran’s voice was halting but sincere, sweet smelling sweat wicking off her markings. Xinji instinctively took a step back, ears flicking back and forth to hear three dimensional sound. “I know she’s a shaman so she should… should.”
Her red face was too pale, her regal appearance marred by exhaustion and poor hygiene, clothing slightly worn. The smell reached her sensitive nose and had she been human she would have paled.
Sulphur fire. And blood.
Her dodge had been almost too late, as she leapt out of the way of a near invisible blade of air that broiled and sparked with a sickly violet light. Compressed air cleanly parted and fell a dozen trees, and Xinji shrieked a double-cored warcry.
“You are not Sveta.” Xinji knew it as well as she knew her own face, the astaran woman was arrogant and prone to black and white thinking. But a murderer was another thing entirely.
Sveta’s neck cracked ominously, an unnaturally wide smile pulling at her taut lips. “You’re not even a shaman and yet you knew, you’ll be a curious specimen to add into my collection.” She sauntered forward, a lackadaisical posture that was far out of place for the astaran. “But you can’t win, little bird, I have lived ten thousand lifetimes before your ancestors crawled out of the mud!”
Air twisted and folded around Sveta, around the monster puppeting her Flesh. A raging maelstrom crossed the short distance between them and Xinji tried to move
I’m not fast enough, too fast, no, no, I refuse to—
The wave of deadly air was blocked by a shimmering energy barrier, layers of quantum locked hard light and particles bending but not breaking within the short lived barrier. A shadow covered her, and Xinji coughed as a chitta warrior stood up from where he had dropped from a hundred feet up, four muscular arms flexing as they tensed and shifted into a stance.
The beetle-like alien’s mandibles clicked ominously, heavy armor draped over his enormous frame, with a single shoulder mounted minigun spinning to life—
It was a cacophony of hypersonic bullets, smashing into a spinning vortex of air that moved like molasses, sickly witch lights distorting reality around each other.
“Spirit. I see you’ve chosen to make an enemy of my clan, to attack the child of my lord, you have made a mistake.” He stomped once, and spider cracks spread across the forest floor from force rather than channeling. “To attack one of her friends in the body of an innocent soul.”
The spirit simply smiled, and space began to distort as the gauntlet was worn thin. “You can’t stop me insect, my cosmic imperative is greater than yours.”
The chitta simply smiled. “You won’t find it such an easy task, beast. Theresa is a tough cookie.”
The spirit narrowed her eyes. “We shall see, won’t we?” The gauntlet pulled back completely, and Xinji shrieked as the floor fell under her.
She blinked and she was falling from the sky, as below her sat a world of the eternal wilds, with all the colors out of space and of the mind.
The nightmare flames burned the land and the forest, leaving a dark trail towards a great and golden glen. A yonic eye winked at her from a cerise sky, and she screamed as the dark, dead corners and unplumbed depths of the universe opened before her.
She felt herself on the edge of the world; peering over the rim into a fathomless chaos of eternal dark.
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Compendium Entry (Technology) SHAMANISM
Subentry: Hosts/Ridden
A well-known phenomenon and often accepted practice are that of spirits taken Host within the bodies of shamans. A useful ability that provides a suitable defense and home for a needy spirit, a source of power, and new esoteric abilities for a shaman. Anything from immortality to spiritual control of animals, there are however two sides to a coin. Positive relationships are purposely cultivated unions between Spirit and Flesh, providing benefits to both parties as long as the deal is honored.
However, not all Hosts are so consensual or beneficial. Certain spirits will often trick their Host, and break their word to take what they want. Such spirits are dangerous and will often wreak havoc on both planes, and are subject to punishment by more righteous spirits or shamans. Spirits are beings of resonance, and take on Hosts to feed on what gave them life, fire-spirits seek out heat and flame, from candle flame to forest crown fires. Spirits of the air seek out breezes, dust devils, and hurricanes. Humans however provide a bountiful source of energy through influencing them, by latching onto people, things, and events.
A Lust Host will do everything from advertising sex shops to offering their bodies for sexual services, an Arson Host will burn down buildings and forests with wild abandon, or a Violence Host will provoke destruction and conflict with their newfound flesh.
The most dangerous Hosts are those of dark spirits, corrupt avatars of spiritual realities. They are aligned with certain High Spirits like the World Eater, and are even more dangerous, breaking many rules due to their cancerous alien nature.
Any encounter with their Hosts is to be avoided at all costs without preparation, as death or worse will often swiftly follow.