It’s difficult to explain the sort of effort it took to fight my symptoms back while I was in my sandstorm form, because, well, it’s difficult to explain the symptoms. How was I twitchy and sweating when I didn’t have limbs to twitch, or sweat glands? I don’t know. But my mind, my soul, was under assault. I fought to break through and wrest back control. And somehow, miraculously, it worked. Or so I thought.
I did manage to reclaim enough of my mind that I was able to pour spirit into the sandstorm trait to will it to include a passenger.
I did not manage to reclaim enough to make an attempt to separate Bryan from his assailant first.
Spirit suffused my swarming form and I felt another consciousness join mine in the air.
For a moment, all was silent.
I glanced down to the ground and saw, to my horror, Bryan looking back up. Still fully incorporated.
How is it, a cold, calm voice spoke into my mind, you have this power?
Fuck, I thought, and prepared to shove more spirit into the trait to undo my blunder and give us our bodies back.
But a will like iron grabbed mine and held it firm, stopping me in my tracks.
No, the voice said. I quite like this form, and I think I shall hold onto it for a time. I know not how it is you came to be here among these humans, or why, but you have been discovered, and you shall serve to feed me. Now, Qi Magician, lend me your power.
Every grain of my swirling sand body trembled in fear and pain under the assault. My foe bent power into his will and squeezed, putting pressure on my own like a torture rack. I felt spirit eke its way involuntarily free of my channels.
Cultivation channels, it turned out, remained in place even though my body had been scattered to every corner of the room. Feel free to write in with a guest chapter when you solve that mystery for me.
In any case, the spirit that spun free of my channels now wasn’t coming out to feed a skill or suffuse a trait. It was being pulled out, sucked out, like blood by a vampire. I felt the alien will, its magical aura, overpower me, pin me down, and begin to feed.
It sucked the magic out of me.
Aurally.
I thrashed. I struggled. I tried my best. But, at the end of the day, the being having his way with me was at least level 30 and powerful in ways I simply couldn’t understand. I was numbly aware from my numerous perspectives of the scene around and below us; the Sand Witches that continued to pour in, Bryan still strafing them down with his squirt gun and kicking their clotted remains to pieces like so many dirt pies, and then more zombified humans getting inside and beginning to place themselves strategically to surround him. It was a goddamn ambush, and my boy Bryan was about to be ripped to pieces.
I raged, I fumed, I fairly wept in my feelings, but for all that, I was powerless to so much as cry out against the being in my mind. He had complete control.
Until he didn’t.
Another thing some of you might be scratching your heads about is my medication withdrawal timeline. Why, you might ask, would you have such severe withdrawal symptoms after missing just a day? Well, dear reader, I think maybe you’re confusing my own unique medical billet with crack or meth or some other pedestrian thing. No, my friends, I was on some real serious shit. And, as mentioned, it was a cocktail, remember? Unique. Balanced. Tenuous. I hadn’t missed a day of this particular combination in over three years. What was going to happen to me? Your best guess isn’t any worse than mine.
For now, it meant recurring bursts of all the symptoms these meds were supposed to treat, in increasing levels of severity and with decreasing increments of time in between. Goth-alien Neo had every advantage over newly-magicked-up Quart, but that boy simply couldn’t predict, nor handle, the full might and wrath of the American pharmaceutical complex.
Pain and shock ripped through me as my mind seized, and, to my surprise and subsequent delight, the alien’s mind seized along.
Everyone in the room—Bryan, zombies, and spirit beasts alike—stopped to watch as our sandstorm grew somehow even more chaotic. Images appeared in the air, arms and legs forming and deforming from the sand as I once again struggled to take control and reincorporate us. Battered though his will now was, the alien wouldn’t let go. But his control, too, had grown tenuous.
We struggled out into the street.
Arm-wrestling is thirty percent a battle of muscle, seventy percent a battle of will. This was basically a big magical arm-wrestle but without the arms. And if we’d had arms, mine would have been a toddler’s and his would have been a bodybuilder’s. Honestly, if it weren’t for my med withdrawals I’d have already been consumed, an empty husk of nothing lurking in the back of his mind. But now I had a slight advantage; we’d been tossed out to sea in the midst of a cyclone, and while he had the better boat, he’d never experienced anything like this before.
Me? I was raised in this.
I forced us out, away from Bryan. We swirled and whipped about.
Get out of my head, I thought with a mental shove.
The voice chuckled in disdain. You are certainly full of surprises, Magician. But no. I do not intend to leave so soon.
I tried and failed to push him out. I tried to reincorporate us and failed again. He was strong and when our playing field was level I had little chance of even retaining consciousness, let alone wrestling back so much as an ounce of control. But the playing field continued to buck.
The alien mind started to lock me down again. Again a tremor of chemical chaos rippled through us, breaking up whatever technique he was attempting to use. I pulled with all my might, flexing and straining my will, and continued to pull him further into the street. Away from El Zarape.
The surrounding spirit beasts and zombies who had been watching began to encircle us, and I felt something in the air change as the Sand Witches formed a mystical shape.
I grabbed a bit of willpower again and, before it slipped away, used it to whip out at the nearest enemy I could spot. A whip of sand lashed out at the stout goblette, who blinked, shrieking, as it raised its arms over its face and backed away. So much for causing damage; apparently all I’d done was irritate it.
I think not, the voice said. What small modicum of control I’d gained was yanked away from me and I went into a mental tailspin as our combined sandstorm forms continued to swirl.
The Sand Witches completed their summoning.
In what was becoming an all-too-familiar scene, white light that soon split into a full rainbow spectrum streamed down from the night sky, landing right in the middle of the street.
Right in the middle of our airborne rumble.
And now, little Magician, the voice said, you will learn the meaning of pain. Then I will consume you.
The beam had an immediate effect on my sandstorm form, collecting all my scattered bits and bringing them under its purview. We remained disincorporated but the storm swirled in a much tighter cyclone, all contained within the beam.
The beam brightened.
Congratulations combatant! You have discovered a source of cultivatable Cosmic Qi. Would you like to cultivate? Y/N
I’d been spending spirit like a motherfucker and although I hadn’t been keeping track I was quite sure I could stand to be topped off. Besides, gothman obviously assumed the power of the beam was going to totally wreck my ass so he could finish the job of utterly dominating me.
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
But he didn’t know what I’d been through in the past twenty-four hours.
Oh, fuck yes, I thought.
Light suffused every grain of sand and, with great pleasure, I both heard and felt the alien presence in my mind scream in pain.
Release me, it screamed.
So you can drain me? No.
You are killing me!
I mentally shrugged. Truth be told, I was a little uncomfortable with the situation. Running a knife into a monster who is literally about to try to kill you is one thing, but slowly torturing the soul of another sentient being is entirely something else.
Magician! I was wrong. I am… sorry. I sensed the great difficulty with which it admitted this. You are clearly powerful in ways I did not anticipate. Release me and I will leave you alone. No! I will give you a gift, grant you power!
I was sorely tempted. But even if I wanted to release him, I didn’t have any idea how to do so. I didn’t really even know how to get myself out of the beam without my usual monster-ex-machina coming down the pipe.
I’m sorry, I finally replied. I cannot.
It screamed and fumed in frustration, and I felt it might actually succeed in breaking free from the ferocity with which it threw itself against the walls of the beam.
Then it stopped.
What is this? it said. What… what is this, Magician?
Cosmic Qi? I replied. I thought you knew.
No, fool. Of course I know that. But what it this strange… thing in front of me?
I paused. You’re going to have to be a bit more specific.
The words! You utter fool, you have not been blessed with powers by the Heavens; I have been cursed by the Heavens with this unfortunate encounter. What are these words that appear before me? Submit aura to control of combatant Quart, y/n?
Ohhhh… do me a favor, spaceman. Read that again, but pause when I say.
Submit aura to control of combatant Quart—
Pause! It stopped and I almost allowed laughter to erupt over our connection. Somehow I kept composure. Now, I need your help translating this next part, I thought to it. What’s the opposite of no?
Yes.
Nothing happened. Fuck.
Magician, he said, his voice growing faint. Did you just try to trick me into giving you my soul?
I mentally shrugged. Worth a shot.
He chuckled softly, to my surprise, though his voice grew weaker with every passing moment. Hunger and ambition worthy of a true Shayathar Lord.
I’m a human, motherfucker.
Not anymore. You are far… more. And now… we… are.
Our sandstorm coalesced into a single human form and was forcibly ejected from the beam. I flew across the street and smashed into an opposing building, feeling more than a little woozy. I slid down the brick façade, landing in a heap.
“Quart!” Bryan called out. He was back in the restaurant, unable to escape, surrounded as he was by a cadre of nasty-looking zombies.
“Fuck!” I stretched out a hand and poured spirit into a skill.
You have activated skill: Ballers Be Balling!
A pair of wiffle balls conjured themselves out of thin air in front of me, each one humming with magic and full to the brim with stored spirit. I reached out to them with the spirit inside of me and felt that they were already tethered to me, like balls on long strings. I closed my eyes and mentally tugged on the strings, which went immediately taut.
Oh hell yeh. It was totally magic chain whip time.
With a grunt, I whipped one of the balls around in a large circle a few times, then flung it forward toward one of the zombies.
And missed wildly.
“Fucking thing,” I mumbled. I closed my eyes again and visualized shooting the ball out with perfect precision, fast and deadly, no extraneous motion at all and not a chance of missing. The image that came to mind was that of a spider shooting web.
“Huh,” I said aloud. Well, why not try? I called the image of Tommy to mind and poured spirit into Ballers Be Balling, filtering through Tommy’s image like a sieve.
Subclass: Spirit Beastmaster
Spirit beasts can be subjugated and controlled via Cosmic Qi
through Spirit and Wisdom. Spirit beasts may in rare instances be
formed and nurtured.
Subclass Traits: Spirit servant (Sand Witch)
You have subjugated a spirit beast, Sand Witch, level 3. You may spend
cultivated Qi as Spirit to summon and control this beast. You may share
some traits and powers with the Witch.
Sprit companion (Tommy)
You have formed a spirit companion, Tommy the Tarantula. Your spirit
pool must reach 300 before you can summon Tommy in physical form,
but you may nurture him with spirit or raw Cosmic Qi at any time.
You may share some traits and powers with Tommy.
I mentally flogged myself for not taking the time yet to explore how to nurture Tommy with spirit or Qi. I bet the poor guy was hungry. Or maybe not? I supposed he was currently housed within my spirit, which I’d kept mostly topped off from my ridiculous stored Qi reserve, so maybe he was fine?
As spirit filtered through Tommy’s image entered the skill, the threads that connected me to the wiffle balls gained substance, taking on a white, sticky, elastic quality. I grinned ear to ear.
Spider webs. I’d fucking conjured spider webs.
With a thought I gathered the web into my hands, swung one of the balls in a circle like a lasso again, and let it fly.
You have shared trait: interwebs with Spirit companion (Tommy the Tarantula).
Trait: Interwebs
You are able to conjure webbing from spirit or Raw Cosmic Qi. Webbing can be used to trap or restrain enemies or connect persons or objects. Webbing is resilient, elastic, and adhesive, and able to store and transfer spirit.
Limitations: unable to store, transfer, or connect consciousnesses in unevolved state.
Duration: conjured webs will disintegrate after 5 minutes in unevolved state.
Trait may evolve through use or infusion of additional Raw Cosmic Qi or refined Cosmic Qi as spirit.
The spirit wiffle ball flew from my body like a bullet, strong and true. You might expect a wiffle ball to slap harmlessly against the side of the face of the zombie it ran into, being, you know. A wiffle ball. But mine, integrated into my powers and reinforced by (or conjured from, I guess?) spirit, did not. Instead it sliced into the zombie’s face and passed straight through his head, popping out the other side with a gruesome slurping sound. I grimaced and tugged on my web, pulling the ball back. It obliged, and I watched in disgust as zombie brains spilled out before my foe fell, dead. Again.
Critical Hit Scored! +1 XP.
Congratulations, you have leveled up! 100 XP applied; you are now level 10. Congratulations, combatant, on breaching the First Wall!
+1 to all base stats. You have 1 stat point and 1 skill point to allocate. XP to next level: 100.
Title gained: Alpha Wallclimber
Congratulations, you are the first indigenous combatant on this planet to reach level 10! You have gained +2 to all stats, +20XP.
You have defeated Shayathar Vessel, level 7. +7 XP.
“Holy shit… holy… holy fucking shit!”
If I’d thought leveling up before had been a satisfying experience, I’d had no idea what I had in store. Breaching level 10? This was a whole new, well… level. Heh. Qi surrounded and soaked into my body and I felt something deep within me unlock. My body felt bigger, though I could tell I wasn’t actually any taller. It was more abstract than that, more like bigger on the inside.
I threw my webbed wiffle again and KO’d another zombie. Then again, but this time I shot low and took out its legs. That was enough for Bryan to handle the monster. I raked in a little more XP, then, seeing that Bryan had the situation in hand now, I decided to test a theory. My mind wouldn’t leave that feeling of inner expansion alone; something clicked and I decided to try something.
You have activated skill: Storm Globe!
You have 15,179 Raw Cosmic Qi stored in Storm Globe vessel. Cultivate? Y/N
“Yes.”
Qi rushed into my channels, flooding them and circulating through my body. I felt that familiar rush of pure, invigorating energy, but no pain after; I hadn’t overloaded my channels this time. Curious, I pulled up my pools on my HUD and read my spirit stat.
Spirit: 500/500.
“Jeeeeesus.”
I then glanced down at my cultivation progress, and my suspicions were confirmed.
Current Cultivator Physique: Copper
Progress to next Cultivator Physique: 5%
Pathways: Expanded (Tier 2)
Meridians: Locked
Core: N/A
Cosmic Qi capacity: 200
“Bryan! Oh man!” I laughed out loud. “Bruh! I’m a copper!”
Bryan shot a dagger glance at me. “Will you kindly keep that to yourself when we are in the middle of dispatching our enemies who may or may not escape and relay that information to the relevant parties!”
He scampered over the broken glass and out into the street, where, sure, we were still surrounded.
“Oh. Oops.” Yeah. I was a bit of a dumbass there; can’t really excuse that one.
I spun in a circle, taking in our enemies. Then I began shooting my web wiffles left and right. Goblettes were easy and I racked up the kills. +2XP here, +3XP there. A rare additional point for a crit. Bryan worked on the Witches, squirt gun still in hand.
Until he ran out of lube.
“Gonna have a problem here, Quart, unless you’ve got some more tricks up your sleeve.”
“Hold that thot,” I said, sidestepping to avoid a Sand Witch who’d come close to me.
“Did you just say—” he started, but I activated the skill.
You have activated skill: Squirter
“Duck, Bryan!”
He didn’t need to be told twice.
I spread my hands out to my side and, just as I’d hoped, water-soluble intimate lubricant shot out of my hands in wide strafing arcs. I spun in a slow circle, raising and lowering my hands by degrees, until every Sand Witch within a fifty-foot radius was clumping and collapsing into their burlap sacks.
Now, you might think I’d just kicked some serious ass and opened the door for our immediate escape. That’s certainly what I was prepared to think. But then an army—like, squad on squad on squad—of goblettes came pouring onto the scene from all around us, and zombies close behind. Far more than I could hope to kill quickly with my wiffle trick.
We were fucked.
And it made me so angry. Righteous indignation filled my spirit. How dare they? How dare these things, these inhuman monsters come and kill and pillage and destroy? Life was precious. So very precious. How dare these monsters come and kill us?
A wave of pure anger rolled out of me like heat from the sun, and for a moment, every monster stopped stock still. Bryan turned to face me, and for the first time I saw something in his eyes as he looked at me.
Fear.
You have unlocked new subclass: Auramancer.
Hello, Little Magician, a familiar voice spoke into my mind. We meet again.