Wordlessly, not knowing what to think and most definitely still processing what I just experienced, I walked out of the tent. I obviously looked frazzled judging by the looks people gave me as I made my way home. As I walked home a sense of melancholy and apathy came over me, I felt as though I were undead. The fly buzzing in my ear did not cause any annoyance. The light drizzle did not elicit any reaction it normally would have. Not even the faintest of shivers swept across my body. The thought of goosebumps didn’t even cross my mind. I thought of nothing, my head was empty. As I entered the house I kicked off my shoes and layed in bed, with my armour and clothes still on. I felt no discomfort, nor any irritation at the thought of having to wash the sheets. Nor did my thinking that Sylvie would be cross with me bring me to action.
I stared at the ceiling of the house for what felt like a thousand lifetimes. Unconsciously, my mind was racing through what had happened trying to make sense of it all. And then, in between the apathy and melancholy, I felt a burning spark. A heavy weight in my chest. I could feel the temperature of my body rising. It felt as though I would explode in flame, burning down the entire house. Then the feeling abated, but the tightness in my chest remained. As though an infinitely strong hand had grasped my heart and squeezed. I felt as though I could possess the strength of that hand. My muscles strained, crying to be used. The weight and feeling of strength permeating my body did not lessen as I layed there, waiting for it to dissipate. In my chest was the feeling of pure unadulterated energy. And I did not know how to use it. But something told me not to tap into it. Something deep in my psyche told me that whatever this new feeling was, it screamed danger.
I rolled off the bed and stood. I felt powerful, my body still shook and thrummed with the energy. As I went to feed the chickens, they shied away from me, running into their little coop. I replaced their feed and water then finally took off my armour. As the pressure from the armour disappeared, so did the power, and energy. I felt tired and beaten as soon as I took it off. I squatted down with my head in my hands. The chickens still gave me a wide berth, at least the ones brave enough to leave their coop. I got up with a groan and stumbled as I suddenly became light headed. I regained my bearings. Clutching onto the counter for dear life I let out a deep sigh. Regaining my bearings, I hung the armour up in my closet along with my sword and sat on the bed. That was when my subconscious dumped all of the information it had gathered on my consciousness. I felt my mind buckle under the strain, my heart started beating so fast I could swear people down the street could hear it. I could feel the veins in my head bulging and I could hear the pounding of blood, my blood. I began gasping for air, feeling unable to breathe, as though I was drowning. I was vaguely aware of the sudden sweat dripping down my chin onto my thighs. I knew what I saw, The Sword of Proel, Malachi, was possessed by some powerful entity. At the core of all of this information, was one phrase “...don’t tell anyone what you saw. He’ll know if you do.”
My hands were slick with sweat, I could feel it running down in a stream on my back. I realized, with a start, that I was shaking like the last leaf on a tree in autumn. My eyes began to cloud over and the world seemed to spin. The urge to vomit had never been so strong, even stronger than when I had smelt the rotting pig that was laying in the hot summer sun for weeks. As I moved my hands to touch my face, I realized they were freezing cold, numb, and bone white. Then I felt the vomit rising in my throat and tried to make a dash for the back door so I did not vomit in the house. But my dizziness caused me to trip on my own feet and I ended up vomiting on the floor, retching and dry heaving towards the end.
I stayed on my hands and knees for several long agonizing minutes, dry heaving and dry heaving until I was too physically exhausted to do even that. I collapsed to the side panting, slick with sweat, my face wet with tears and sweat in equal parts, and being more physically exhausted than ever before. The sharp acidic smell of my own vomit burned my nostrils, but I hardly noticed as I fell unconscious. My dreams were not kind to me, it was like the time I had eaten some of those mushrooms from the cow pasture.
In my dream I was standing in a large green field. Plain, and flat. A sea of waving green as far as the eye could see. And on the horizon the moon, gleaming silver and cold in the sky. But the light cast on the field was harsh sunlight. The wind tore through my hair, cutting into my clothes. Chilling me to the bone. I shivered and looked about. In the distance I saw a gargantuan oak tree, not a single leaf swayed in the harsh wind. Gritting my teeth against the gale, I took a step forward and the grass cut into my bare foot. I bent down to look at my foot. As I did my vision blurred, but I pushed through it and saw that the grass was not grass. It was a chain of rhomboidal emeralds, emeralds that were now stained bright red by my blood.
I grasped one and tore it out of the ground. It required so much force I slipped on my blood and began to fall. As I fell, the world shattered around me. Emerald grass, chunks of silver moon, and tree branches of morganite fell with me. I began falling down a deep, deep pit. To me it felt as though I was falling for years upon years. To the extent I began growing bored. Eventually I suddenly realized the chunks of silver moon were gone. The grass was no longer individual blades, rather with me fell chains of emerald, occasionally grazing me and drawing blood. I looked up to see the moon, massive and looming over the top of the pit. Then, almost as if waiting for the realization, I was floating on something. There was no light, no sound, no smell, I tried tasting the air like a snake, nothing. I tried to feel the substance I was floating in, but it was as if there was nothing. Then came a dull green glow. Chains of emerald began rising from below me. Snaking towards me, like seaweed. I felt a cold, hard, and sharp thing wrap around my leg. I looked to see the slightly glowing, translucent chain coiling itself around my ankle. I bent forward, going to uncoil it. As soon as I reached forward, dozens of bladed chains flew out of the substance wrapping around my entire mind. They began viciously cutting into me, I could feel my blood flowing out of my body, I opened my mouth to scream. An effort that was rewarded by a chain slamming into my open mouth, smashing my teeth and cutting my throat from the inside. The cold, hard steel shoved its way into my body, I could feel it cutting me up from the inside. Then they began to drag me under the substance. I tried to fight the chains but that made them cut deeper and deeper into my body.
As soon as my head went under the substance the chain began wrapping around my throat. In animalistic terror and frenzy I tried to throw off the chains. I felt one chain break and I began tearing and clawing at the chain around my throat with my free hand. But as soon as I got free, two larger chains grappled my freed hand and held my arms taut. Then the chains rotated me. And beneath me I saw the moon. Only, it was covered in the translucent green chains. Then the moon split open, and dozens of purple and red chains spilled out. They snapped the emerald chains with ease. I began to float back up, then the purple and black chains pierced me.
They slammed through my arms, legs, and torso and began to drag me into the moon. Almost like it was fleeing, the chain which had violated my throat violently tore itself out of my body. Then I was pulled into the moon and suspended above another void. I looked up, blood gushing out of my pulverized mouth and jaw. The chains were no longer piercing me, instead they were wrapped around me. Pulling my arms and legs in opposite directions the purple and red chains held me aloft. I pulled at the chains, to no avail. Blood dripped from my many shallow cuts. Then from the shadows in front of me came a green glow. A cocoon of green emerald chains. The chains wound and compressed whatever was inside, writhing and coiling with rapid speed. Sparks flew off of the grinding chains, briefly illuminating the void before being swallowed by the eternal darkness. Multiple other emerald chains held the cocoon aloft in the void, drawn taut by their load. Then suddenly a single purple-red chain shot out of the cocoon, shattering the other chains, straight towards me. It barely missed my face before being destroyed by more emerald chains, which wrapped around the cocoon making it even tighter and thicker.
A voice rang out. Clear, even amongst the sound of grinding chains. It was not the voice I recognized, but rather the manner of speech it embodied. It was most certainly the same entity within Malachi.
“Welcome! Welcome to my prison! I hope you’ll enjoy your stay,” said the entity, followed by the very same maniacal laughter. “My, my! You certainly resisted the effects of the seed of my consciousness well! But, now, I have another puppet to play with! And, if you accept my contract! Well, then you can have fun with me!”
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“Contract?! Who the hell are you, even?” I managed to spit out, my wrecked jaw somehow healed enough to flap about.
“Now, now! Names are powerful! But, you can call me Khaos, pleased to meet you,” Khaos replied with a chuckle. “And your name?” he asked, trying to mask his anticipation.
“Do you not know it? After all, I assume you were dropping eaves on Malachi and I’s conversation. I seem to recall him saying my name multiple times,” I replied.
“Don’t be such a tease, it’s not the same as hearing it myself,” as he said this the chains about my arms tightened and I felt my ligaments and muscles tearing as I was pulled even harder. I groaned and my head fell to my chest from the pain.
“Call me Volonte,” I replied with a small smile thanking God and his Archons I knew more than one language.
“Playing games?” I could feel the smile behind the words. “I respect you for that, yet, in order to finish this contract I’ll need your true name,”
“You wish for me to sign off on a contract without telling me the terms? How crass of you Khaos,'' I said looking towards the cocoon. His laugh nearly drowned out the scraping and grinding of the chains.
“I like you… Volonte! Very well. The terms are as follows, you spread chaos and strife throughout the world and do your best to free me and as compensation I give you a portion of my power and, if you manage to free me, make you my servant as compared to slave. Now you may be asking, what's the difference you handsome devil! As a servant you’ll receive regular compensation packages of course, as a slave; well, you’d be my property. Not my employee! That sounds nice, doesn’t it? Kill your enemies! Get revenge on those who hurt you! Turn friends against each other! Set nations at war and keep them at war for as long as possible! Doing all of these things makes me stronger! And makes it easier for you to free me! A win-win as they say. So what do you say, Volonte? Do you accept my offer? Or will I have to torment you for longer?”
“How many have you made this offer to? And how many have accepted?” I asked.
“Offered it to about twenty people on this continent, including you” he said, and again I could feel the smile behind the words, “And all except for you have accepted by now. If I’m being honest, no one has asked so many questions. It’s a bit disconcerting. People usually hear “power” and are chomping at the bit to get at it,” Khaos replied.
“Who would accept such a foolish offer?” I said, trying to build a rapport.
“Your dear friend Malachi for one. He was so desperate to win that battle. He had already retreated into the Dark Fen, let me tell you, it’s called the Dark Fen for a reason. Lo, and behold he comes across a remnant of mine. I tell him I can give him the power to single handedly turn the tide of battle. Without hearing the second clause he accepts and you know the rest,”
“I see, the others?”
“Similar story, they wander on some remnant of mine. I talk to them, much like I’m talking to you, then they agree without a second thought,”
“Let me guess, you have a high ranking official in the Silvestrian and Zemlayan governments. That’s how you’ve kept this war going for so long,”
“Critical thinking? Keep it coming, it's a skill that’ll take you far,” Khaos chuckled, “I’ve got a man in every major government on every continent,”
“I’ll accept your contract. If you accept my terms that is,” I said.
“And those terms would be?” he replied his hunger was evident like a shark who smelled blood in the water. I did my best to remember every smooth talking merchant I’d ever met. I played through hundreds of contracts and conversations I had had or witnessed. Then I thought for a solid five minutes. Khaos didn’t interrupt, letting me think. Then I spoke.
“First, you will never control any aspect of me or those around me in any way shape or form under any circumstance. Second, you will free Malachi from his bondage to you without harming him or those close to him in any shape or form; physically, mentally, or spiritually. Third, I will be granted the knowledge of the location of all of those you have given your “blessing” to and they will not know I know their location, nor will they know my location or the location of anyone associated even with the slightest to me. For example, if I say hello to someone. They have become associated with me to the smallest degree. You cannot listen in on anything I do not give you express permission to listen to. You cannot see anything I do not give you express permission to see; in my thoughts, memories, or through my eyes. You cannot hear anything I do not give you express permission to hear; in my thoughts, memories, or through my ears. You cannot taste anything I do not give you express permission to taste; in my thoughts, memories, or through my tongue. You cannot feel anything I do not give you the express permission to feel; in my thoughts, memories, or through my body. You cannot smell anything I do not give you the express permission to smell; in my thoughts, memories, or through my nose. You cannot control anyone I have even an iota of association with in any way, shape, or form. You will not interact with anyone associated with me, unless it is through me. To which the clause dealing with possession covers. You will not send any of your agents to me, my own, and those associated with me. After my death you or your followers will never contact any of my lineage and descendents. I will be able to consume and make mine the power of the others who follow you and they cannot do the same to me or one another. I will be able to easily locate any of your followers when they are within a five mile radius of me. If any of these terms should be broken, I will retain your power. And, you will serve me in complete totality. I will attempt to free you from your prison, I will spread as much chaos that I am capable of in regards to my morality, mindset, physical capabilities, and desires. Should I break my contract by not making even the slightest of efforts to spread chaos and/or free you from your prison. I will be put on trial in front of your followers in a similar dream state and, if found guilty, I will die and my soul will become forfeit for you to use in any way you see fit. What say you, Khaos?” as I finished naming my terms, before me appeared a scroll. On it was written all I had said along with a place for the two parties to sign. As the scroll apparated and floated over to the cocoon, Khaos snorted. As if in disbelief.
“Absolutely not! What do you take me as, boy! I am an ancient being. Did you really think I would agree to this? Remove the clause of you controlling me if anything should be broken and the clause that says that I cannot control you. As well as the clauses that prevent me from accessing your senses,”
“What? If you break our contract there should be no penalty for you? Don’t bullshit me Khaos. I can amend it to if you break the contract I keep your power and you never contact me or any of my associates ever again. As for the clause that says that you cannot control me? Well, I can amend that to say you can only control me when I give you express permission. Not permission from a stray, errant, or intrusive thought but from a direct, conscious, and intended thought. And I can take back control at any time, no matter the circumstance,” Khaos stayed silent for a moment.
“And the things about the senses?” he said. I sighed,
“Khaos, I value my privacy but I will give you one hour a day to passively access my senses, although with my prior knowledge as to when,” I said with a sigh as the chains tightened once more. Khaos laughed, not the same laugh. But instead a deep throaty laugh.
“You’re killing me. Listen, I know what you’re planning. And let me tell you something, you are going to cause more chaos by going through with your plan than you would have if you accepted my usual deal. But, sure, I agree to the contract and the amendments made to it,” As he said that the contract flashed a dull purple then made its way to me. On it I saw what I could only assume was his signature, glowing red-purple. “Cmon now, accept the contract,” Khaos said in a sickeningly sweet tone, “If you do, you’ll benefit even more than the average person would because of all that magic you have stored in the noggin of yours,”
Again the chains tightened and I tried not to yell in pain. I could feel my skin tearing. “I agree to the contract presented before me,” I managed to spit out. As soon as I said the words, my name, my actual name, appeared on the contract glowing a slight silver. The contract floated to the middle of the room and burned up in a bright flash of white flame. Then, out of the cocoon, two thin chains shot out. The first pierced my heart, the second my head. As soon as I felt the pressure from the chains piercing my body, I woke up