Unknown
In the dimly lit room, an old man adorned in weathered robes sits cross-legged on the clean floor. Beneath him lies a basic mat, its fabric neatly arranged, untouched by the passage of time. No signs of accumulated dust or neglect mar the smooth surfaces of the wooden floorboards.
Countless ancient lamps, their delicate silver casings intricate and finely detailed, line the towering shelves that encircle the room. The shelves reached higher into the air than his weary eyes could see. Despite that, the man in the room seems to feel each light as if they are an extension of him. That is his only job as the designated Lamp Watcher.
The room is a sanctuary of silence, untouched by the outside world. It is a space where time flows at its own unhurried pace, uninterrupted by movement or sound as if the very essence of the room resists disturbance.
Woosh.
The man’s weathered eyes snap open, instantly locking onto an extinguished faith light. A fellow believer had passed. Who? Moving from his spot, his joints creak like an old machine coming to life after years of dormancy.
Adam.
His eyebrows creased at the name. It shouldn’t be. Without hesitation, he reaches for the silent alarm nearby, a subtle device contrasting with the ornate lamps. They will arrive soon. He returned to his mat on the floor and resumed his daily prayer to Mauni, the Goddess of silence and stillness.
May the Goddess welcome the fallen soul into the promised land of eternal silence.
-
Vera
Vera's hand halted mid-pour before it resumed with seamless fluidity, as though the interruption had been imagined. Adding the blood-red ingredient to the bubbling pot, she extended her hand for the next item. A pitch-black bottle swiftly found its place in her outstretched hand. Three milliliters.
The scene repeated itself several times before Vera closed the lid. Dismissing the servant with a casual wave, she instructed, "Teach the new slave." The teenage girl trembled at her words but remained silent, bowing low before silently retreating from the chamber.
Now alone, Vera retrieved a clear vial from her pockets. The illusionary mother beetle within showed no signs of life, confirming the disconcerting sensation she had experienced earlier. Had they discovered the daughter beetle she had left on him? No, if they had, they would have attempted to trace the connection before destroying it. Not that they would have succeeded, but she was certain they would have tried.
She shouldn’t be high on their priority list if they had only sent a single mid-level member to test the waters. Even before her recent advancements, she would have sensed the abnormality in him. She felt a bubbling curiosity, wondering what gave them the courage to spy on her affairs. It seems she should return sooner than planned, something interesting seems to be happening for once.
The change in the bubbling's frequency drew her attention. Opening the lid, the room instantly filled with the scent of ‘nothingness’, masking the original smell of the chamber. Pouring the fading insect out of the vial, Vera lamented that it would have been better if the connection was still live, but it was better than nothing.
Lowering her face until it was above the pot, she inhaled deeply. Grainy images flashed across her mind: A carriage fading into the distance, darkness, a lamppost…a store.
Her eyes pop open as a look of understanding crosses her face. Fools. It seems they will be of no concern soon. They probably didn’t even know what kind of existence they had provoked. Still, shouldn’t I do something? To show my sincerity?
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
The tracing method the man employed wasn't commonplace, evident in its success despite the restrictions she had imposed. Tracking down the organization from which it originated shouldn't pose a challenge. She mentally added it to her post-return to-do list. There was no sense of urgency.
She doubted they would be willing to swallow this loss quietly. While a mid-level member meant little to her, they functioned as the essential limbs of most organizations. They will move again. Anticipating their inevitable retaliation, a grin crossed her face at the prospect of more misfortune heading their way. Her expression, however, swiftly reverted to its usual coldness when a knock echoed at the door.
As the door slowly opened, a timid young girl emerged, clutching a silver platter bearing a glass jar and a crystal knife. The weight was obviously too much for her, and she struggled to balance it with her slender arms. Though she should be 10 years old according to her information, malnutrition made her stature comparable to a seven-year-old.
"Place it on the table," Vera instructed. However, after observing the girl's struggle she flicked her wrist, and the items floated onto the table themselves. The girl trembled, head lowered in fear of Vera’s punishment.
“Raise your head.”
Her breath caught as she met familiar grey eyes, the resemblance breathtaking every single time. Her mind wandered back to the previous night.
{She cast a disinterested glance at the passing cages. Any passably healthy specimen would do for the routine experiments, but for the next phase, she required something more. Preferably one with even a faint trace of magic or a decent bloodline. She knew she was asking for a lot, those types would rarely fall to such lows.
“Do any of the goods interest you, My Lady.” A chubby fellow, probably the manager of this establishment, was showing her the merchandise.
“Ten.”
The man's face instantly lit up. "An excellent decision, My Lady! I will personally select ten of the finest specimens in stock. I guarantee you will not be disappointed."
Vera did not reply, her thoughts occupied by possible gifts she could prepare for her next visit to the bookstore. Just as she was leaving, her attention was drawn to new cages being unloaded. She felt it. There’s something there that she needed. Sensing her interest, the manager promptly guided her over.
"The newest arrivals. They're much earlier than expected." The man lowered his voice as if sharing a business secret. "I heard there are unique specimens this time."
Oh? Vera’s interest is piqued by that last sentence. There were not many, but the manager did not lie. There was indeed one with a diluted bloodline of some sort of beast. It was impossible to discern the specifics without further examination, but it would suffice.
She pointed to the cage. The manager went on to flatter her some more about what an excellent decision she had made, but she waved him away before he could finish.
Reaching for the forms, the man frowned. "My most sincere apologies; the details of this slave seem to be missing. I will retrieve a copy immediately." He retreated with surprising speed, considering his stature.
Though slightly annoyed at the delay, Vera found it worthwhile to discover exactly what she was seeking on her first trip here. It was indeed much easier to obtain what she needed this way, rather than searching for it herself. Feeling content with the smooth progression of events, she noticed the arrival of a new cage.
Observing the customer's interest, the old man in charge of the cage yelled through the bars, "Raise your head, brat."
The sight knocked the breath out of her. "Zoe."
The girl lowered her head in fear, while the old man looked confused. He checked the clipboard. "This one was named Angel by the last owner, but your grace may change it to anything you wish if you decide to purchase it. 50% discount considering it’s used."}
The reinforced vial shatters in her hand. It’s not her, she reminded herself, but it barely did anything to calm her. Turning away from the too-similar face, she waved her away. She did not turn back until she heard the door close gently behind her. Zoe never remembered to close the door.
Shaking away the memories, she cleansed her mind of all distractions. She shelved the thoughts away for a later time. Right now, she needed to focus. With closed eyes, she spread her senses to her surroundings that pulsed with magic. Almost. Grabbing the empty glass jar, she made a motion to drink from it.
It is time.
She raised the sharp edge of the knife before bringing it down with a swift motion. A scream echoes in the chamber.
-
Blood Offering:
The initiation hinges upon the essence's quality and purity in the blood offered. A perilous aspect emerges, for if the donor's lineage lacks purity, the ritual may exact a lethal toll. The act requires careful consideration.
Memory Surrender:
The second step of the ritual remains largely unknown, with participants unable to remember the experience. However, it appears to be non-lethal, lacking any recorded instances of harm. The details of this process remain elusive, veiled in the fog of forgotten recollections.
Pain transmutation:
Considered the most perilous stage, pain transmutation demands a robust physical constitution, a trait often absent in those endowed with magical abilities. Nevertheless, there exist strategies to navigate this challenge, providing alternatives for those lacking the requisite bodily strength.
?
?