Chapter 19: Clouded

Cal was bombarded by flashes of Fael's life. He saw her as a child, practicing magic with an intensity that bordered on obsession. He witnessed her moments of triumph and failure, her struggles with her arcane studies, and her fears and insecurities. Scenes of camaraderie with Beron, Jora, and Tain appeared, their bonds forming through shared adventures and trials. Yet, underlying these moments of warmth and connection was a relentless drive to prove herself.

The flood of memories was overwhelming. Cal’s mind struggled to process the torrent of experiences, each one layered with Fael’s emotions—fear, determination, love, and sorrow. The essence was not just a collection of magical energy but a deeply personal record of her life, her struggles, and her dreams.

Amidst this turmoil, a sense of familiarity began to surface. Cal recognized the sensation of his own essence mingling with Fael’s memories. It was a disconcerting feeling, as though he was both a spectator and a participant in her experiences. The essence resonated with his own, creating a dissonant harmony that he struggled to understand.

In this chaotic realm, the Mistress’s voice cut through the confusion, a steady and calming presence amidst the storm.

"Stay focused, Cal. You must control it. The essence has bound itself to your core, but you need to master it. Focus on what you need to learn."

Cal clung to her voice, using it as an anchor to navigate the turbulent sea of Fael’s essence. His own thoughts were a blur, overwhelmed by the intensity of the memories and the power that surged through him.

The Mistress continued to guide him, her voice a beacon in the darkness.

"The essence gives you the power to manipulate the very fabric of reality around you. You must understand how to channel it, how to direct it towards your will. The memories are a part of the essence, but they are not its essence. Do not lose yourself in them."

Cal focused on her words, forcing himself to sift through the memories and emotions, seeking the key to controlling the essence. The Mistress’s guidance was invaluable, helping him separate the raw power of the essence from Fael’s personal memories.

The swirling chaos began to stabilize as he gained a tenuous grasp on the essence. He could feel its power coursing through him, an immense reservoir of energy that seemed both alien and familiar. The final remnants of Fael’s soul dissolved into the shifting maelstrom of essence. The crimson crystal in front of him pulsed faintly, its surface reflecting a kaleidoscope of ephemeral images and emotions. Her essence was melding with his, a swirling fusion of power and memory that left a disquieting echo in its wake.

As the last vestiges of Fael’s soul evaporated into the void, the crystal’s light dimmed. A new rune began to materialize in the darkness, its form taking shape with a slow, deliberate elegance. It floated before him like the others, glowing softly with an eerie blue luminescence. This rune was different—its presence felt heavier, more profound, a testament to the new ability it represented: Command.

The rune was intricate, its symbols entwined in a complex dance that seemed to pulse with potential. Cal reached out instinctively, the essence around him shifting in response to his will. He could feel the rune’s power begin to seep into his very being, its capabilities becoming clearer with each passing moment. Command.

The power granted by this rune was a medium essence cost ability, allowing Cal to influence the flow and behavior of essence through spoken commands. The simpler the command, the more immediate and straightforward its effect. Words like “Come” could summon essence to him, while “Stop,” “Condense,” “Expand,” and “Spin” allowed him to manipulate it with varying degrees of complexity. The more detailed the command, the more intricate the manipulation, but even the most basic commands required a degree of concentration and essence to wield effectively.

Cal could now deflect essence-based attacks, such as Beron’s sword strikes, and dispel spells by dispersing gathered essence. He could condense essence into small balls, which, though not granting him new abilities or memories, allowed him to consume and replenish his own reserves.

As the rune solidified, a sense of power and control began to settle over him. He felt like he was holding the building blocks of reality itself, though the sensation was far less intimidating than it might seem. The very fabric of the world seemed to shift and bend under his command, though its full potential was still beyond his grasp.

Cal’s thoughts wandered back to the memories he had witnessed. The images of Fael’s life, her struggles, and her final moments haunted him. He was disturbed, unable to shake the feelings that surged within him—feelings he couldn’t quite understand or remember. Shame, an emotion he couldn't recall ever experiencing, clawed at the edges of his consciousness. As he searched his own mind, he found that he couldn’t remember his past at all. He turned back to Fael’s memories and saw himself charging at her, her terror as he bore down upon her. Something he couldn't recall poked at him, and shame filled him, but he didn’t know why. What was he forgetting?

The unsettling sense of shame continued to gnaw at him, causing Cal’s focus on the rune to waver. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something deeply significant about his forgotten memories, something that might hold the key to understanding the turmoil within him.

“Why can’t I remember?” he asked aloud, his voice trembling with frustration. “What am I forgetting?”

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The Mistress’s response came with a hint of hesitation. “Focus on the present, Cal. The past is irrelevant to your current task. You have the power now—use it.”

But Cal’s growing sense of unease pushed him to question further. “No, something doesn’t add up. I need to understand what’s missing. Why do I feel this way?”

The Mistress’s voice grew firmer, though still calm. “The essence has already given you much. You mustn’t dwell on what’s lost. Concentrate on mastering your new abilities.”

Cal’s frustration mounted. The sense of being manipulated, of having his questions sidestepped, only fueled his determination to uncover the truth. “Tell me what’s wrong. Why am I feeling this shame?”

There was a pause, and then the Mistress’s voice hardened. “Leave it alone, Cal. It is not your concern. Focus on your task.”

Cal hesitated, torn between his instincts and the Mistress’s command. He had learned to trust her guidance, but something in her tone made him doubt. Reluctantly, he forced himself to push the troubling thoughts aside, focusing once again on the rune and the power it granted him.

Yet, as he wrestled with his inner conflict, a deep-seated sense of discomfort settled over him. The more he tried to ignore the feelings, the stronger they became, like a shadow lurking just beyond the edge of his vision. The clarity he had felt earlier began to wane, replaced by a gnawing suspicion that there was more to his current state than the Mistress was letting on.

Cal’s resolve hardened. He needed answers, and he realized that to obtain them, he would have to confront the source of his confusion directly. Something in Fael’s memories had pushed him to feel as he did now, so it followed that consuming more souls might grant him further insights. His next targets would be Fael’s companions—Beron, Jora, and Tain. If consuming their essence could provide the missing pieces to his fractured memories and the emotions stirring within him, he would do it.

He steeled himself for the task. The Mistress’s command to focus on the present, while practical, did not silence the growing determination within him. He had seen Fael’s life and sensed the depth of her struggles; the emotional connection she had with her comrades was significant. Especially Tain, so he decided he would consume him next.

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Tain drove his blade deep into Cal's back. The figure of the man knelt on the ground, his hands slick with the blood and sinew of Fael. Tain's green blade pierced through Cal completely. With a furious roar, Tain wrenched the blade sideways, carving a deep furrow into Cal's flesh.

In mere seconds, the wound began to heal, but Tain wasted no time. He swung again, aiming for Cal's neck. The blade cut a line across his skin, but didn’t penetrate further. Cal’s hand clamped down on the base of the blade, blood from his grasp dripping onto the metal. With a speed Tain couldn’t match, Cal twisted and turned, his movement a blur.

Beron and Jora charged toward Tain and Cal with urgent determination. Beron, channeling sword essence, made his blade gleam with an intense sharpness that seemed to cut through the air itself. Jora, bounding like a predatory cat, held her massive blade ready for a devastating strike.

“Tain! Duck!” Beron shouted.

Tain followed the command, dropping low. Cal, however, was no fool and ducked as well, anticipating the threat. A surge of pure sword essence flew over them, ripping into the cave wall on the far side.

Still gripping Tain’s blade, Cal infused his body with essence and yanked harshly, pulling Tain toward him. Tain released his weapon and used the momentum to drive his other sword into Cal’s body. Their eyes met, and Tain’s were filled with tears and hatred. Taking advantage of the moment, Tain pushed off, leaving his blade embedded in Cal's chest.

As Tain disengaged, Beron slid into view, his red hair whipping behind him and his armor skidding across the stone floor. His rapier was aimed at Cal’s head. Reacting instinctively, Cal leaned back, bracing for an essence attack from Beron. But instead, Beron grabbed the hilt of Tain’s sword and channeled essence into it, causing a violent eruption.

Blades of essence sliced through Cal like a storm of iron, shredding his flesh, though his regeneration fought desperately to keep up. Beron, caught in the backlash, screamed in pain as the attack cut through him as well. Cal’s essence pool in his core dwindled, his mind racing even as he began to speak.

“Back!” Cal commanded.

The sword essence abruptly halted as Cal's new ability activated. The essence filling the air from his mouth forced the incoming attacks back toward their origin. Beron’s eyes widened in fear as he leaped away, but he was enveloped in a deadly maelstrom.

Drawing on his training, Beron closed his eyes and switched breathing techniques, managing to evade the relentless essence blades. Moving with the grace of the wind, he found fleeting gaps in the onslaught, his shimmering form weaving through the deadly storm toward Cal. His skill was impressive, but Cal had no time to admire it—Jora was closing in.

The huge woman, Jora, swung her blade with enough force to cleave steel in two. But Cal was swifter, dodging just enough to avoid the blow. Jora's strike shattered the stone floor where it landed. Without missing a beat, Jora swung upward from the ground, targeting Cal's legs.

Cal grinned, stepping into the attack. He lifted his foot and stomped down, deflecting the blade into the ground. With lightning speed, he unleashed a barrage of blows. Jora’s enhanced physique could only withstand so much. In the brief moments she was vulnerable, Cal landed at least twenty strikes. Her face was left a grotesque mess of broken and torn flesh.

Jora roared in fury, slamming her head into Cal and pushing him back. Despite her determination, she was a wreck. Her skin hung in tatters from her face, and blood dripped onto her chest.

Cal danced backward, trying to create some distance, but a voice behind him cut through the chaos.

“Fuck you!”

Before he could react, a small blade pierced into his head. Time seemed to slow as Cal felt the blade breach his skin and slice into his skull. It was about to penetrate further, so he summoned all the power he could muster.

Essence Burst.

A massive wave of essence erupted from Cal, the most he had ever channeled into the ability. It shattered the blade and its handle, and even the hand of Tain. The force of the burst cracked the stone beneath him. Jora, who had been charging, was thrown back, her sword slamming into the ground to slow her momentum.

Beron, having seen the storm of blades dissipate, leaped back out of the burst’s range. He prepared to strike as soon as the wave passed, timing his attack expertly to avoid deflection.

Tain was slammed against the wall, disoriented. Cal, sensing the oncoming slash of sword essence, had a sudden idea. He activated Command once more, directing it at the incoming attack.

“SPEED!”

The flying blade surged, its velocity doubling. It hurtled toward Cal with such speed that he almost missed his chance to react. Almost. He shouted again.

“LAUNCH!”

The blade accelerated even further, moving faster than sound. A deafening boom followed its trajectory. Cal thrust his hand forward and, with a swift turn, sent the blade hurtling past him and directly into Tain.

Tain’s body convulsed as the essence-infused blade tore through him, ripping apart flesh and bone. A spray of blood erupted from the wound, splattering against the cave wall. His eyes widened in shock and pain, tears mingling with the blood on his face. He gasped, a choked cry escaping his lips, his body shuddering violently.

As the blade exited through his back, the force of the impact drove him into the wall, pinning him there momentarily. Tain’s expression shifted from shock to a profound, haunting stillness. His breathing slowed, becoming ragged and labored. His legs buckled, and he slid down the wall, his body slumping in a lifeless heap.

Beron's face cycled through a storm of emotions—pain, horror, and anger—before settling into a grim resolve. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he gritted his teeth, struggling to maintain his composure. Jora’s roar echoed through the cave, a raw, anguished cry of rage and heartbreak as she witnessed the death of her brother.

Cal, meanwhile, moved with cold determination. His gaze was fixed on Tain's broken body, where he sensed the faint, elusive presence of the soul he desperately needed. With intense concentration, he reached out, trying to draw it from Tain’s lifeless form. He knew that the soul held the power he sought.

“COME!”

The air around Cal crackled with dark, pulsing energy as Tain’s soul began to rise from his dead body, drawn inexorably toward Cal. The ethereal essence spiraled through the air and was swallowed by Cal's waiting mouth, merging with him in a surge of power.

“NOOOOOO!” Jora’s anguished scream shattered the silence, a raw cry of despair and rage that echoed through the cave. Her heart was breaking as she witnessed the final, horrifying act.

Then, the memories came crashing in like a battering ram.