By the time they appeared ready, he was almost asleep. It would have been a better way to go, clueless, until the knife struck. Sadly, he was disturbed by a woman placing an apparatus above him. Eyeing it, he noticed the device held one of the many crystals he’d observed before being laid on his back.
He must have made an odd face while gazing upon the object, because the next moment the woman was studying him. Thankfully, she moved on after he stared at her blankly, his hands outstretched for a hug.
‘Heartless people,’ he thought annoyed, as again he was ignored. ‘The least they could do is offer a little love before murdering me.’ Especially since he was not sure what the crystal was for. Perhaps a tool to suck the life out of him? He did recall someone once telling him about that, how life could be used to power wonders. ‘It must be,’ he concluded. Keeping all these runes charged couldn’t be easy, a source of power had to come from somewhere to maintain it.
‘Deep breaths, deep breaths, causing a scene isn’t going to help things.’ Just the thought of a new, possibly painful way to die, was not doing him any favors. One would think that he had experienced it all by now. But life always had some new trick up its sleeve, and these people had not shown any signs of love or affection. He was sure this was going to be one of those moments, where the memory would be buried deep in his mind.
A quick absence of noise descended on the room, jostling Noname from his thoughts. One of the women began to hum, her tone amplifying as others swiftly joined in. If the crystal had not been directly in his line of sight, he wouldn’t have noticed it growing in brightness. Even then it was an afterthought, as he focused on the sweet melody entering his ears, and rendering his body into a mass of relaxed flesh. Since this was to be a short painful life, then at the very least, he would strive to remember the song for his dream. A small blessing, if more events of this nature were awaiting him.
That was his last thought before a beam of light descended from the crystal and into his gut. Then his awareness became nothing more than pain and bliss, as the two merged into a twisted dance.
***
Their Cord was going well, even with the additions they had to incorporate in order to lower the vibrations. Too many Nightmares crawled the walls now, the flesh Curses appearing without warning, where before Scouts had signaled all was clear. If it hadn’t been for the blessed Wards, they would have been caught completely off guard, and gutted before forming a proper defense.
It wasn’t an uplifting thought to have while chanting, but she was skilled, and had many Cycles tallied to her name. It allowed her to carry the line of thinking, even as she voiced every note assigned to her perfectly. The thought of Nightmares, and where their numbers had come from so abruptly, writhed within her mind.
It only left her when the first stage of the Cord came to an end, and she felt the toll of chanting such a taxing Cord. Her mind became hazy, and thoughts difficult to form. Blessedly though, it only lasted a few Breaths, before her senses returned to a normal state. However, once everything was completed, they would need to rest for a time; be unable to do even the most basic of Chants. She loath the thought, being without those small comforts, and reduced to the near state of a Soulless.
“Zenjel, the next phase is ready, if you perhaps wish to delay for a moment’s rest, we ca-
A wave of her hand stopped the woman’s pointless drivel, yet another upstart trying to take her place. Vernac must have mentioned something about him showing force, or others had been listening to their conversation. Now women were bending over backwards to show their worth to him. To display they were too useful, and helpful, to be assigned to a dangerous task.
Staring down the woman, she said: “Ready the next Cord, and get into position.”
The upstart bowed, then rushed off as the touches of Anger flicked the woman’s ears. Zenjel was tempted to strike at them, the act teaching the girl to better fight the Curse, and hide her intentions. But she let it go, for the Maid wasn’t one of hers. She instead turned her attention to those few worthy women that had earned her interest.
She saw how dedicated they were to their tasks, making sure everything was done perfectly. Zenjel also saw that none of them were being rewarded for this behavior. One that was deeply needed, if the new settlement was to survive and prosper. Instead, intentional or not, their ethic was being punished and discouraged. No matter the amount of effort they displayed in their task, Vernac didn’t reward them. He only offered protection, safe tasks, to those that showered him with endless flatteries, and sung of his importance.
Even now he was surrounded by those people, and Guards best used elsewhere. The group of them gathering the remaining Anima and Bestowing stone needed for the last, and most critical phase.
The vision of it made her blood warm, while the touches of Weariness were pushed aside by the heat of Anger. It was tempting to accept the Cursed strength, for she was already tired. Too much needed to be done, disallowing the chance of a long rest. Such acts couldn’t be risked, not with Nightmares all around them, and the Newborns desperately needed to keep things from falling apart.
It did not help that she, and those loyal to her, had been running all over gathering what was needed. Not to mention her harrowing experience going to the Front. Her vessel stilled at the memory of it, the tunnels were all clawed through, the Wards spent, and the area shrouded in cursed dark. A Guard had almost impaled her, when she surprised one of them as they were retreating. Those Soulless had been doing their best to block still functioning tunnels, and as it so happened, she had gotten stuck helping them.
Her, doing a task meant for Soulless.
‘I’ll find a way to make you pay Vernac, I swear to the Giver I will.’ She thought, Anger’s influence growing. Reluctantly, she pushed it aside, the exercise simple enough after Cycles of practice. Its strength left, leaving her to endure Weariness. But it was necessary, she couldn’t have it clouding her thoughts, the task before her required a clear mind. Ascending Newborns to maturity was a taxing experience even when prepared, which they were not, not to the degree she was used to. In the past, before her fall into the confines of a new settlement. She was used to having at least a Host of Maidens helping her, with supplies already nearby. Instead, she had a group of two dozen, with only a paws worth performing their tasks diligently.
Zenjel resisted the urge to sigh, and close her eyes for a Breath. She couldn’t show signs of fatigue, not around those currently accompanying her. Too many were eager to please Vernac, now that danger was close and they wanted, needed, his favor to avoid more lethal tasks.
‘Wordane, one and all.’ Zenjel thought, glancing about and making sure all was in place. ‘If events go cursed enough, there will be nowhere to hide.’
Taking a deep breath, she began the next phase of the Cord. Others soon added their voices, and together they spun the needed chants that caused the Newborns to grow. She disliked what they were doing to them, forcing a complete maturity in one session. Many were going to be damaged, no matter how skillful they performed. Zenjel only offered that enough came through with the Channels needed to help keep the Nightmare back. Anything else was Lowly thinking, and Zenjel, even after being forced out into the lower depths, would not succumb to such.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
She remained focused on her task, even as the chamber filled with the wails of the Newborns. In a normal Cord, such a thing would not happen, since the changing would occur slow enough, that those being ascended wouldn’t wake from the lashings of Pain. The Cursed touch overpowered by the healing nature of the Cord.
That was not the case for the current Cord being spun; everything was happening too fast. Skin cracked open, bones speared through flesh before being re-encased again, muscles rushed to lengthen, then reattach to their designated parts.
All of those events had the Newborns forming a Chorus of torment. Their screams seeping into the stone, even with the additional protections, some notes would carry through and reach the prowling Nightmares. Zenjel offered that the Guardsmen were providing enough of a diversion that none would come to check the source of the wave.
Again, Anger shrouded her thoughts. ‘If only we had started sooner, if only I could hurry this along.’ But even the slightest deviation from the Chant could be the end for the Newborns. So, she mastered herself once more, and pushed Anger away.
The deed was already done, the only path forward was performing their tasks to the best of their abilities. And offer, beg to the Giver that events would happen favorably for them.
Zenjel was forced to empty her mind as the Cord continued, since the wails of the Newborns reached a pitch that it became necessary to ignore the realm, and focus inwardly on the steps of the chant. Due to this, time passed in a blur as she concentrated all her awareness on the next note to be sung.
This continued till Surprise caught her, her focus shattering as her awareness found nothing left to fixate on, the Cord was done, and the realm came screaming back to her. The cost of the chant revealed itself next, and nearly caused her to fall to her knees. From the sounds behind her, others had, but she remained upright, displaying her worth to all the conniving women watching her every move.
‘We should have more here helping us with this.' Unfortunately, the request she sent to the other Anointed for aid was denied. Whatever help that could be had, was already sent to hold important sections of the tunnel network.
The cries of the Newborns stopped her from thinking anymore on the matter, they had to be quelled. The screams were animalistic and crazed, even with the Cord done, the Newborns acted as if their vessels continued to be warped.
“Help me sisters, let us give them the touch of Relief.” She poured what little Anima she had left into her voice, calling upon Higher thoughts and sent their Pain away. Together they replaced it with the Giver’s affection. The screams ceased, and a wonderous silence was born.
Looking about, she saw none of the Wards showed signs of attack, the Guards appearing successful with their diversion. Zenjel allowed herself to relax, the last phase though difficult, was the safest for them. The Newborns, now nearing adulthood, were asleep and would stay so for the rest of the Cord.
As she turned, ready to have her sisters perform the more mundane tasks, her tongue stilled. Already many had forgotten their charge, and were eyeing men intently. Some even walked up to ones they liked; hands playfully stroking chests.
“Sisters!”
That got many to jump and focus, while others reluctantly moved away from their chosen.
Taking a breath to compose herself, Zenjel spoke: “Begin clothing them, we can’t have you all distracted when Vernac arrives for the last phase.”
Speaking of which, he and his entourage, finally decided to show themselves as Guards surrounded them.
The passages in this section were blocked, and the Wards fully charged. It would take Rounds, or maybe even a Rotation or two, for their enemy to breach these walls. Yet Vernac was acting as if a Nightmare was going to strike at any moment. His pair of eyes darting in every direction; desperate to discover a threat just outside his field of view.
‘As if the Nightmares would have waited for him, when there’s all these Newborns lying around.’
“All is clear Anointed,” called out one of the Guards. “Shall we check the tunnels further ahead?” Vernac, still looking every which way, said: “No, no that’s alright, just. Just make sure the passages were sealed properly, and station yourselves at the entrances.” Pausing he seemed to finally notice the vessels lying on the slabs. It was easy to tell Vernac was not impressed by them, and not hard to join in the sensation. Even matured, Zenjel only saw three with visible Channels.
“The rest of you help tidy up the Newborns.” Vernac ordered, after eyeing the new Chanters for a handful of Breaths. His entourage scattered quickly, eager to prove their worth to him, while he made his way to the main Animastone at the center of the chamber. In his hands he carried a palm sized one, but the complexity of the hallowed Wards etched upon its surface made it far more precious. The interlocking symbols allowed the crystalline object to hold considerable amounts of knowledge. Every portion of which had been filled with needed information. While The Newborns now had vessels of adults, their minds were still that of an infant.
The Bestowingstone, which she didn’t have the slightest idea of how it worked, would transfer its knowledge to them. In mere moments they would know how to walk, eat, speak, and most importantly, fight. When it came to everything else however, they would be mostly blank. The thought of their never-ending list of questions already wore on her tired mind.
To distract herself, she helped her sisters perform their tasks, and to keep them from groping the men. A simple but difficult act at times, many were eager and due to carry again. This brief encounter with their Fears only spurred them on to the act. They would make it a priority to always be pregnant, and thus exempt from lethal tasks. She could see many were desperate enough to mount the men now. But the importance of the task, and the presence of Vernac, kept the more uncontrolled Maids from acting out.
It was a blessing for all, when the men were covered and women regained full control of their composure.
None too soon either, by the looks of the stone. Vernac was working at a hurried pace, eager to get things over with so he could slink off somewhere to hide.
Once the tuning was done, he motioned at everyone. “Hurry, hurry, get into your places people, the Guards won’t hold the Nightmares attention forever.”
She and the others did as his, greatness, commanded. Some far too eager, their looks at him, those of desire, made her feel the touches of Disgust. True Vernac was a fine male to mate with. Given his Channels. However, his personality, and disserving traits were repulsive to her.
She pushed the disturbing thoughts of people laying with him from her mind, and got into formation with everyone else. The bane of her existence coughed and massaged his throat after everyone appeared ready. “Alright, you all know your roles, performed Cords on occasion, so I expect competence. We don’t have the resources to try this again,” the fool added. “So, keep in mind if any of you mess up, you’ll find yourselves on a one-way trip to the Front. After all, we have plenty of Maids and Caretakers, we can afford to lose a few dozen or so.” That put everyone on edge, even her.
The exact opposite outcome Vernac should want if he desired the Cord to go smoothly. Though Vernac had the simpleness of a Wordane, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t on occasion, try to be cunning. Zenjel could see it, he wanted some of them to mess up, have the easy excuse to send others permanently to the Front. Even with the Newborns made ready, it was still too few to hold, and perhaps push the Nightmare back.
It worked well for him, since even if some of them made mistakes, it would not disrupt the Cord. Not with Vernac in the lead, which she detested to admit. His Soul was large, his Channels deep, plenty of Anima resided within him. If things went wrong, he would be able to keep the Cord stable.
That, and the small trove of Animastones his entourage brought with them, ensured they would have all the Anima they needed to complete the chant.
It was a simple scheme for a simple man, but it was still effective. Hate and Anger formed in her, the latter pushing her to act. To just rush forward and bash in his skull, shatter that knowing smile on his face, thinking none of them could touch him. Zenjel pushed the fantasy away, any quick movement towards him, especially displaying aggression. Would only grant her a swift death before she ever got close. All she could do right now was ensure she didn’t make any mistakes. Later, once the Nightmare had passed, she would begin cultivating allies to deal with him.
Posing himself: “I warn you; this Cord will be difficult. The Newborns minds haven’t had time to adjust, so it’s going to require more from us.” Smiling he added, “keep that in mind,” and began to hum.
The Animastones glow brightened as the Cord commenced, and the stones placed over the Newborns activated. They sent down their energies into the foreheads of the Newborns, rather than before, where it had been aimed at their midsections. Zenjel watched the Cord take place with unblinking eyes, while she searched for mistakes, and offered to the Giver that all would be blessed.
Once the Cord was done, they would have around forty or more new Chanters. Giver willing, it would be enough to maintain the settlement.
‘Please Giver, let the Nightmare be shallow.’