Chapter 13 - Awakening
With a start, I opened my eyes and found myself staring into the darkness gathered under the roof above. My breathing came in ragged gasps, and my pulse was firing all cylinders in rapid succession as clammy hands clenched a sweat-soaked blanket to my chest.
“So, even here you haunt me,” I whispered to no one.
That wasn’t fair. Perhaps it was me haunting the memory of her. If even that were taken from me, I would be left an empty shell, with not one redeeming quality under a mountain of gangrenous sores.
No, the question wasn’t the why, or even the how. It was the why now? Throughout my life’s labyrinthine twists and turns, her memory had always been a mere glance away. It had become the only constant in a man who was changing by the hour. By the minute.
A man who no longer recognized himself.
Life had been so simple, so bloody easy back then. It was always about moving up, moving forward. If there’s a wall, smash it. If there’s a mountain, climb it. My philosophy had been all about the shortest route from point A to point B, and consequences be damned.
Then Sophia had entered the picture, and she had changed everything. Everything.
A true game changer.
*Sophia..*
Gritting my teeth, I slammed my fist as hard as I could into the wall next to my head. A dull CRACK issued from the impact but was instantly swallowed by the night. Lightning jabs of pain started to burn trails of agony in my arm.
Damn, and I had just healed that arm, too.
That had done it, though. Oh, if I turned my head slightly, I could still see her silhouette, just beyond the edge of the shadows around the room. If I closed my eyes for a moment, I could hear the siren song of her voice whispering to me, attempting, as she always had, to redeem my soul.
The problem is I probably never had one to begin with.
“Enough of that,” I told myself, and for once, I seemed to be in the mood to listen. Maybe miracles do happen.
I quietly rose from the pallet where I had been sleeping, and made my way to the door while dodging the various trip hazards in the room by sound alone.
These kids could really snore.
“I can understand the kid, but whoever heard of a friggin mutt snoring?”
I was sorely tempted to test my reflexes via a well-placed boot-heel in the mutt’s rear end, but decided discretion was the better part of valor. It wouldn’t do for the instructor to start out our conditioning boot camp with a maimed hand AND mangled foot. Worse, they would both pretty much fall into the category of self-inflicted mutilation.
Damn mutt’s got some real nasty bedside manners and chompers that would put a bear trap to shame.
Stepping outside, I could see it was still dark. Judging by the depth of the gloom and the silence floating in the still air, it was still a few hours short of dawn. After that kind of dream, I knew there was no hope of getting any more rest tonight.
Instead, I dutifully applied some of that godawful paste over my newly injured arm. Thankfully, it looked like I had only split my knuckles and bruised the bone. With any luck, most of the damage should be healed by the end of the day.
After putting away the stink kit - the name had stuck - I started a light warm-up routine I’d developed to condition my body. The program involved an increasingly challenging series of punches, elbows, knees and kicks that should eventually have me doing double spinning kicks in no time.
*Bleep*
Alert! You are completely exhausted and unable to move!Your stamina has reached 0 and you will not be able to take any actions until it recoversCurrent Stamina:0 / 7
Of course, I didn’t even finish one tenth of the program before my trembling legs could no longer support my body and I collapsed to the ground in a heap. This was nothing unexpected. I had hoped to complete at last 25% of the program, but the training regime had been designed so that it would easily scale down to accommodate my lack of physical conditioning.
Clenching my fists, I willed the weakness away from my body. I would pound my flesh and crush my bones until I scoured away every last vestige of this pathetic shell.
Selendra, the Keeper of the Gates herself had certified that I had a goddamn bulletproof soul, and if I had to flay away every layer of weakness, inch by bloody inch, by the gods I would do it as fast as humanly possible.
Right, first act, reforge a soul from scratch. As for my second act, how tough could reforging a body be?
Grinning wolfishly, I dusted myself and got back up. It was an expression only those who knew me well would recognize. They would know to quickly vacate the immediate area and seek shelter.
Reforging of Seth.. 0.1% complete.
The old Seth was dead. Hail the new Seth.
“Is mommy alright?”
Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
Startled, I almost jumped off my skin. No one had been able to sneak up on me for a very, very long time. That sort of carelessness could and would lead to an early grave in my line of work. Of course, I shouldn’t have expected this body of mine to be equipped with the finely attuned senses that had taken years and years of careful conditioning to develop. That doesn’t mean it did not piss me off to feel like a drunken cat, blind, deaf and helpless.
“The boo.. erm, Shia?” I ventured, squinting towards the gloom of the shack. It had a couple windows that were too small to allow a person to climb through, but it would be a different story for a book. Not that any sane architect would stop to consider whether a window should be able to deter sentient artifacts in the shape of a book from slipping through.
“Yup, Shia’s here!” came the answer, cheerful as morning dew.
“Shia, how did you get there? I left you inside a strongbox.”
“Shia didn’t like the box. It was dark and smelly. Shia wants to stay by mommy,” came the somewhat reproachful reply.
“No, I meant how you managed to escape from a locked chest?”
“Shia didn’t like the box,” came the identical reply, as though it were stating the obvious. This wasn’t helping. “Shia wants to help mommy.”
“Huh? Help me? That’s.. nice. Look, I appreciate it but unless you can turn yourself into a..” I’d been about to say priceless artifact of unparalleled power, then almost smacked myself in the face. Enter exhibit one, the talking, moving, obviously Magic with capital M artifact. I quickly recovered. “How can you help me, Shia? Have you recalled any other abilities or powers you possess?”
“No silly, Shia doesn’t do powers. Shia is Shia,” came the burbling reply, as though that had been obvious too.
“So, how can you help me?” I muttered darkly. I can only take being patronized by a magical artifact with the mind of a six year old for so long.
“Well.. you could, umm, you know. Read me?” came the somewhat bashful suggestion.
I scratched my head, baffled. “I recall your pages being blank the last time I looked.”
“Shia was hungry then. Shia ate something that tasted weird and had a funny smell,” came the somewhat frustrated reply. Alright, so maybe I wasn’t the only one losing patience.
Brushing the dust off my hands I eagerly approached the book, which lay there waiting patiently, perched against the windowsill. I paused with my hands hovering over the book. I felt strangely hesitant to pick it up again. Back then, it had just been a book. Paper and ink detailing some precious tidbit of knowledge and wisdom. This was different. It was magic. It was wild power that I could not even begin to understand. I felt as though I were about to open Pandora’s Box, and about five seconds away from slapping my forehead and going, “DOH!”
Just then, the choice was taken from my hands. I watched in sick fascination as a single drop of blood from my injured hand slowly rolled off my skin, descended through the air, and finally fell on the book.
*SPLAT*
Arcs of lightning burst from the book and streaked into my hand. At the same time, a glowing halo seemed to pulse from the book, gradually expanding until it grew too bright to look at. Low, rumbling thunder could be heard through the din of the magical energies being unleashed around me. Though my self-preservation instinct was screaming to take my hand away, I gritted my teeth and reached down to clamp my palm firmly over the book.
At this, a jolt of power shot up through my arm and agony surged in a tidal wave that swept up all conscious thought and dashed it against the walls of my skull. A wordless snarl escaped my lips and adrenaline spiked my vision, clouding it in a red haze. Peering through the fog, I stared in fascination as the light from the book coalesced in the air in front of me to form the vague outline of a woman’s face. It would have been one of the most terrifying or exhilarating experiences of my life, except it was neither.
Instead, for the first time in more years than bear reckoning, I felt at peace.
See, the woman, she was smiling; and I knew her name.
Then with a roaring crash that left my ears ringing, the symphony of the powers unleashed finally reached a crescendo and exploded into a myriad shards that rained in flaming debris all around me as I lay there on my knees, gasping for breath, staring at the book on the ground in front of me.
Whatever had happened, it was done.
*Bleep*
You have been soulbound by a mysterious power!All your Soul Points have been consumed!Current SP:0 / 5
Summoning one last reserve of willpower, I slowly reached up with a trembling hand and just barely managed to lay it on my forehead.
“Doh.”
Then I passed out.
Authors Notes: Laptop ran out of juice so I had to post on my phone. In other words, please forgive editing errors. Will fix later.