‘Go on, then,’ Worwal told him.
“What exactly do you need this Kag for again?” said Abbas. “I don’t recall what you told us before.”
‘That is because they didn’t tell us anything,’ said Worwal, no longer with the echo of privacy. ‘They just asked if we could make one for some monolith back in Atreya.’
Abbas gave the reaper a look.
‘Alright, fine,’ said Garovel. ‘I’ll admit: we were being a little cagey with the details. It’s a personal project that I’ve been working on for a very long time, so I’m a bit reluctant to go into it too much.’ He spared a glance at Hector. ‘But I suppose if the two of you deem it important, we could reveal a few things. Not that there’s that much to be revealed. I’m not trying to hype it up that much.’
‘A long-term project, you say?’ said Worwal. ‘How long, precisely?’
Garovel bobbed his reptilian head a little. ‘Oh, you know... a couple thousand years or so.’
‘And yet you also say you’ve not made much progress on it?’
‘What can I say? I’m easily distracted.’
Worwal snickered.
Well, that was a good sign, at least, Abbas felt. He decided to jump in again before Worwal’s mood had the opportunity worsen. “Tell us about this project then, if you please.”
‘Okay. Uh. I’m guessing you’re familiar with the name Rathmore, yes?’
Abbas’ head reared back. “Certainly.”
‘Well, one of his Tools is in Atreya. Rathmore’s Gate, to be exact. We were investigating it, and we think a Kag might be able to reveal some of its long-held secrets.’
Holy oasis. “A Kag for one of Rathmore’s Tools... If you’d told me that before, I would’ve made it more of a priority.”
‘Well, you had a lot going on. Still do, in fact. As do we. And I consider this more of a side project, at the moment. While I do want your help, I also don’t want to take up too much of your time. I imagine you’ll at least need to make a trip to the Gate itself for this, yes?’
“Atreya is quite close,” said Abbas, already thinking of putting his armor on right away. “I could knock that out in an hour. Or less, perhaps. And the examination wouldn’t take--” Abruptly, Abbas decided to cut himself off and stop wasting time altogether. He started for the exit of the tent. “In fact, I’ll go right now.”
A dark serial novel. Set in a modern fantasy world called Eleg. Mature language. Updates every night at midnight PST by ~400 words.
Thursday, October 31, 2024
Wednesday, October 30, 2024
Page 3710
‘You make a fair point,’ said Garovel. ‘Perhaps we should emphasize that Hector and I would much prefer to keep the Core around, as well. No matter how much of a jerk it is, we would take no pleasure in the destruction of such an incredible object. In fact, one of our primary goals for Warrenhold is to use it as a place to preserve knowledge far into the future, and I would say this little guy qualifies.’
Abbas recalled them mentioning the like before. “That is some comfort, then. But generally speaking, I do hope that you and Hector will never grow too eager to deliver death and punishment. It is a timeless problem that those in power must struggle with: that we do not become callous or cruel with the passage of time.”
And Abbas half-expected Hector to return a dismissive look or some word of protest--as youth was often wont to do--but the boy surprised him yet again with his silence, with the seriousness in his expression, and with the slight nod he gave.
A lull in the conversation arrived, but it didn’t take long for Garovel to fill it.
‘Well, I suppose we should let your family in here before they worry themselves into a frenzy,’ said the reaper. ‘But one last thing: have you made any progress on that Kag we asked you about?’
“Ah... um. No.”
‘Oh. Been too busy, huh? That’s a shame. Or is it that you just don’t think you can do it?’
‘What?’ said Worwal.
Uh-oh.
‘It’s okay if you can’t,’ said Garovel. ‘I mean, Kags are pretty rare to begin with, and recreating a specific one doesn’t exactly seem like it would be a cakewalk. I understand if it’s too much for you.’
‘Too much?’ said Worwal, hardly able to conceal the irritation in his tone.
Abbas felt compelled to intervene privately before things got out of hand. ‘Worwal, relax. It is an innocent question.’
The reaper’s next words were also private. ‘A mere Kag? Too much for you? Laughable. Is Garovel stupid? Or just trying to annoy me? Agh, this must be some ploy.’
‘I don’t think he knows you that well yet,’ said Abbas. ‘Calm down before you say something we both regret.’
‘Mrgh.’
Garovel picked up on the abrupt silence. ‘Fellas? Something wrong?’
‘Listen to his smug tone,’ said Worwal, still privately. ‘I hate him.’
Abbas had to consciously avoid rolling his eyes. ‘No, you don’t. Just let me do the talking.’
Abbas recalled them mentioning the like before. “That is some comfort, then. But generally speaking, I do hope that you and Hector will never grow too eager to deliver death and punishment. It is a timeless problem that those in power must struggle with: that we do not become callous or cruel with the passage of time.”
And Abbas half-expected Hector to return a dismissive look or some word of protest--as youth was often wont to do--but the boy surprised him yet again with his silence, with the seriousness in his expression, and with the slight nod he gave.
A lull in the conversation arrived, but it didn’t take long for Garovel to fill it.
‘Well, I suppose we should let your family in here before they worry themselves into a frenzy,’ said the reaper. ‘But one last thing: have you made any progress on that Kag we asked you about?’
“Ah... um. No.”
‘Oh. Been too busy, huh? That’s a shame. Or is it that you just don’t think you can do it?’
‘What?’ said Worwal.
Uh-oh.
‘It’s okay if you can’t,’ said Garovel. ‘I mean, Kags are pretty rare to begin with, and recreating a specific one doesn’t exactly seem like it would be a cakewalk. I understand if it’s too much for you.’
‘Too much?’ said Worwal, hardly able to conceal the irritation in his tone.
Abbas felt compelled to intervene privately before things got out of hand. ‘Worwal, relax. It is an innocent question.’
The reaper’s next words were also private. ‘A mere Kag? Too much for you? Laughable. Is Garovel stupid? Or just trying to annoy me? Agh, this must be some ploy.’
‘I don’t think he knows you that well yet,’ said Abbas. ‘Calm down before you say something we both regret.’
‘Mrgh.’
Garovel picked up on the abrupt silence. ‘Fellas? Something wrong?’
‘Listen to his smug tone,’ said Worwal, still privately. ‘I hate him.’
Abbas had to consciously avoid rolling his eyes. ‘No, you don’t. Just let me do the talking.’
Tuesday, October 29, 2024
Page 3709
Hmm. Abbas couldn’t help being a bit surprised at how certain Hector sounded of his convictions here. Young people did not often have such feelings toward such matters, he’d found. It usually took them quite some time to determine their beliefs in one direction or the other.
But for the few young people who did have such feelings, it was usually a red flag. A warning sign. That they were either thoughtless toward the real consequences of their actions, or that they simply had a callous--or even cruel--nature to them, deep down.
Neither of those descriptions seemed to fit Hector here, but it was also still too soon to be sure. They hadn’t actually known this fellow for very long, had they?
There was a third explanation, though. For an attitude like this in a young person. Abbas had seen it a few times.
It could manifest when a young person had been forced to confront the matter by a particularly horrific event. When they’d been given no choice but to reach a strong decision about it.
And right now, observing this young man’s gaze, Abbas was leaning toward that explanation. What exactly had this child been through? Even among Sandlord and Rainlord children--children who tended to mature quite quickly--this was rare to see.
It was one thing to bear witness to some terrible trauma. That was more than bad enough. But it was another thing to be forced into a terrible decision regarding that trauma, too.
If it hadn’t felt wildly inappropriate to do so, Abbas might have inquired further.
Instead, he decided to stay on topic. Hector and Garovel were already being quite generous with how much time they were giving him to think.
“...To be quite blunt,” said Abbas, “I would be upset if you destroyed the Living Core. Even disregarding how much effort I put into its creation, I simply do not see how there would be any need to destroy it. In the worst case, putting it in storage would be the more desirable outcome.”
Hector made no response, but his eyes went to the floor, and he rubbed his chin.
Abbas kept going. “Especially considering the fact that you do not know how the Candle might react to its destruction. If it feels any sort of attachment to the Core, then you would be jeopardizing our relationship with it, too.”
But for the few young people who did have such feelings, it was usually a red flag. A warning sign. That they were either thoughtless toward the real consequences of their actions, or that they simply had a callous--or even cruel--nature to them, deep down.
Neither of those descriptions seemed to fit Hector here, but it was also still too soon to be sure. They hadn’t actually known this fellow for very long, had they?
There was a third explanation, though. For an attitude like this in a young person. Abbas had seen it a few times.
It could manifest when a young person had been forced to confront the matter by a particularly horrific event. When they’d been given no choice but to reach a strong decision about it.
And right now, observing this young man’s gaze, Abbas was leaning toward that explanation. What exactly had this child been through? Even among Sandlord and Rainlord children--children who tended to mature quite quickly--this was rare to see.
It was one thing to bear witness to some terrible trauma. That was more than bad enough. But it was another thing to be forced into a terrible decision regarding that trauma, too.
If it hadn’t felt wildly inappropriate to do so, Abbas might have inquired further.
Instead, he decided to stay on topic. Hector and Garovel were already being quite generous with how much time they were giving him to think.
“...To be quite blunt,” said Abbas, “I would be upset if you destroyed the Living Core. Even disregarding how much effort I put into its creation, I simply do not see how there would be any need to destroy it. In the worst case, putting it in storage would be the more desirable outcome.”
Hector made no response, but his eyes went to the floor, and he rubbed his chin.
Abbas kept going. “Especially considering the fact that you do not know how the Candle might react to its destruction. If it feels any sort of attachment to the Core, then you would be jeopardizing our relationship with it, too.”
Monday, October 28, 2024
Page 3708
Perhaps the reaper had a point.
But oh well. In this moment, Abbas Saqqaf could not bring himself to care about appearances. It seemed quite clear to him now that the young Hector Goffe of Atreya was going to be an important ally for the foreseeable future. Trying to present a false image to him, therefore, would not be good in the long run, even if it made things less bumpy in the here and now.
The glowing orb in Hector’s grasp drew the young man’s glance, along with a raised eyebrow.
Abbas wondered what that might be about, but when Hector elected not to say anything, the Lord Saqqaf decided to steer the conversation elsewhere. “In any case, I will take what you have told me into serious consideration. Worwal may pretend to know everything, but I will not.”
‘Hey.’
“It may well be true that we should reevaluate our approach to using the Forge,” said Abbas. “And your perspective on the Void is... intriguing to me. I shall have to give that more thought. But in the meantime, I must get back to work. The Core is but the first step in a larger project. More of a proof of concept than a finished product.”
“Ooh, yikes,” said Hector. “It doesn’t like hearing that.”
Abbas returned a flat smile. “Heh. Perhaps I shouldn’t even bother examining that one and instead merely leave it in your care. How would you feel about keeping it?”
“Uh. I’m not sure, but I kinda feel like I have no choice. How would you feel if I decided to destroy it?”
Abbas blinked. “Why would you do that?”
“Because it’s insanely dangerous.”
Abbas kept blinking. “And you just told me that it doesn’t like what I was saying. I can’t imagine it was too pleased to hear those words from you.”
“Oh, it already knows how I feel about it. We had a long chat before you woke back up. If it can’t learn right from wrong, at least in the most basic sense, then I don’t really care how much power it has to offer us. It’s too dangerous to keep around.”
“...You are treading into the territory of complex ethical questions, Hector. That may not be a human being in your hand there, but it is still a sentient, thinking entity that you are talking about killing.”
Hector’s gaze was steady. “I know. But it tried to murder you and Worwal. And possibly also Garovel.”
‘Yup,’ said Garovel. ‘Hates my guts, too, apparently.’
But oh well. In this moment, Abbas Saqqaf could not bring himself to care about appearances. It seemed quite clear to him now that the young Hector Goffe of Atreya was going to be an important ally for the foreseeable future. Trying to present a false image to him, therefore, would not be good in the long run, even if it made things less bumpy in the here and now.
The glowing orb in Hector’s grasp drew the young man’s glance, along with a raised eyebrow.
Abbas wondered what that might be about, but when Hector elected not to say anything, the Lord Saqqaf decided to steer the conversation elsewhere. “In any case, I will take what you have told me into serious consideration. Worwal may pretend to know everything, but I will not.”
‘Hey.’
“It may well be true that we should reevaluate our approach to using the Forge,” said Abbas. “And your perspective on the Void is... intriguing to me. I shall have to give that more thought. But in the meantime, I must get back to work. The Core is but the first step in a larger project. More of a proof of concept than a finished product.”
“Ooh, yikes,” said Hector. “It doesn’t like hearing that.”
Abbas returned a flat smile. “Heh. Perhaps I shouldn’t even bother examining that one and instead merely leave it in your care. How would you feel about keeping it?”
“Uh. I’m not sure, but I kinda feel like I have no choice. How would you feel if I decided to destroy it?”
Abbas blinked. “Why would you do that?”
“Because it’s insanely dangerous.”
Abbas kept blinking. “And you just told me that it doesn’t like what I was saying. I can’t imagine it was too pleased to hear those words from you.”
“Oh, it already knows how I feel about it. We had a long chat before you woke back up. If it can’t learn right from wrong, at least in the most basic sense, then I don’t really care how much power it has to offer us. It’s too dangerous to keep around.”
“...You are treading into the territory of complex ethical questions, Hector. That may not be a human being in your hand there, but it is still a sentient, thinking entity that you are talking about killing.”
Hector’s gaze was steady. “I know. But it tried to murder you and Worwal. And possibly also Garovel.”
‘Yup,’ said Garovel. ‘Hates my guts, too, apparently.’
Sunday, October 27, 2024
Page 3707
‘Only when he gets particularly excited about his work,’ said Worwal. ‘So yes, all the time.’
‘Sounds like a real hassle,’ said Garovel. ‘You have my sympathies.’
‘Heh, thank you. And knowing what I do of your servant, you also have mine, a’hkin.’
‘Oh, wow. I haven’t been called that in millennia. I’m not sure it suits me, but I appreciate the gesture, at least.’
“Which questions did I miss?” asked Abbas.
“Uh... well, to put ‘em all together, I guess I was just wondering how the personality for the Living Core could have come from the Candle when... I mean, the Core literally told me that it put you into that coma. So the personality must’ve been there before we connected it to the Candle, because that happened after you and Worwal were already passed out.”
“Ah, yes. An understandable point of confusion. There are two possible explanations for that. Both of which harbor some rather unfortunate implications, I’m afraid. The first is, in my estimation, far more likely. And that would be that the Core’s personality did indeed already exist within the Candle. So it would also remember doing that to us.”
“Huh. Wouldn’t that mean that the Candle itself hates you, too?”
“Not necessarily.” Abbas allowed a beat to pass. “But yes, probably.”
“Aw, shit. And the second explanation?”
“Temporal interference,” said Abbas.
“Say what?”
“When dealing with Fusion Forges--or dense pockets of ardor in general--time itself can become something of a blurry concept. For example, the precise moment that something is created can turn into more of a... ‘range’ of creation, rather than a singular instant.”
“What the heck? Why would that happen?”
“Oh, any number of reasons, depending on the exact nature of the object in question. But from what I have read, it can be especially likely to occur when the object being created is something particularly influential over ardor itself. It is an interesting phenomenon. I remember reading one theory that said it was a consequence of an ardor feedback loop.” Abbas tilted his head as he recalled the essay more fully. “In fact, it said that such a feedback loop, if unable to rectify itself, could result in a spatial distortion akin to a... black hole. Hmm...”
Hector just stared at him.
Worwal’s next words were wrapped in the echo of privacy. ‘You do realize that we’re trying NOT to come off as unhinged madmen in front of our gracious host, right?’
‘Sounds like a real hassle,’ said Garovel. ‘You have my sympathies.’
‘Heh, thank you. And knowing what I do of your servant, you also have mine, a’hkin.’
‘Oh, wow. I haven’t been called that in millennia. I’m not sure it suits me, but I appreciate the gesture, at least.’
“Which questions did I miss?” asked Abbas.
“Uh... well, to put ‘em all together, I guess I was just wondering how the personality for the Living Core could have come from the Candle when... I mean, the Core literally told me that it put you into that coma. So the personality must’ve been there before we connected it to the Candle, because that happened after you and Worwal were already passed out.”
“Ah, yes. An understandable point of confusion. There are two possible explanations for that. Both of which harbor some rather unfortunate implications, I’m afraid. The first is, in my estimation, far more likely. And that would be that the Core’s personality did indeed already exist within the Candle. So it would also remember doing that to us.”
“Huh. Wouldn’t that mean that the Candle itself hates you, too?”
“Not necessarily.” Abbas allowed a beat to pass. “But yes, probably.”
“Aw, shit. And the second explanation?”
“Temporal interference,” said Abbas.
“Say what?”
“When dealing with Fusion Forges--or dense pockets of ardor in general--time itself can become something of a blurry concept. For example, the precise moment that something is created can turn into more of a... ‘range’ of creation, rather than a singular instant.”
“What the heck? Why would that happen?”
“Oh, any number of reasons, depending on the exact nature of the object in question. But from what I have read, it can be especially likely to occur when the object being created is something particularly influential over ardor itself. It is an interesting phenomenon. I remember reading one theory that said it was a consequence of an ardor feedback loop.” Abbas tilted his head as he recalled the essay more fully. “In fact, it said that such a feedback loop, if unable to rectify itself, could result in a spatial distortion akin to a... black hole. Hmm...”
Hector just stared at him.
Worwal’s next words were wrapped in the echo of privacy. ‘You do realize that we’re trying NOT to come off as unhinged madmen in front of our gracious host, right?’
Saturday, October 26, 2024
Page 3706
“H-hold on a second here,” said Hector. “You’re saying that its problematic personality came from the Candle?”
Abbas was hardly listening, however, as he rubbed his brow. “Ugh, I’m already dreading what I’m going to see when I look at it again. If an entire personality has taken root in it, then I can only imagine what a mess the memory structure has become. I probably won’t even be able to make heads or tails of it for weeks...” Agh, or even longer, potentially. He hadn’t examined very many sentient objects before, but they were always absurdly complex. In the past, he’d tried referencing neurological maps as a point of comparison, but they never seemed to help much. The difference between a fully ardor-based mind and a human brain was simply too great, apparently.
But perhaps he should treat this as yet another opportunity to learn. With the Core being so portable, it could possibly serve him well as a point of comparison with similar objects. The Candle itself would obviously be the most convenient for that purpose, but given its intimate role in the Core’s creation, it would almost certainly be of limited use here. Their structures would probably be practically identical. In which case, it might be best to compare them for their differences rather than their similarities.
No, what he needed was a sentient object--preferably more than one--that had no ties to the Candle whatsoever. That would likely prove the most illuminating. But he couldn’t do that here, now could he? Such an endeavor would no doubt require--
“Lord Abbas,” came Hector’s voice, along with a forceful hand on his shoulder. “Can you hear me?” He sounded concerned.
Abbas saw the young man there, looking up at him. Apparently, he and Hector had both moved closer to the entrance of the tent. Ah. Abbas had always had a mildly troublesome habit of unconsciously pacing back and forth when brainstorming. “Apologies,” he said. “I was merely lost in thought. Nothing to worry about.”
‘I told you,’ said Worwal. ‘He is fine. He does that all the time. It’s not a side effect of anything.’
Hector pulled his hand back. “Okay, well... good. You just woke up, you know. You had me worried for a second.”
“Did I ignore an important question?” said Abbas, far from the first time in his life.
‘Yes,’ said Garovel. ‘Several, actually. He really does that all the time?’
Abbas was hardly listening, however, as he rubbed his brow. “Ugh, I’m already dreading what I’m going to see when I look at it again. If an entire personality has taken root in it, then I can only imagine what a mess the memory structure has become. I probably won’t even be able to make heads or tails of it for weeks...” Agh, or even longer, potentially. He hadn’t examined very many sentient objects before, but they were always absurdly complex. In the past, he’d tried referencing neurological maps as a point of comparison, but they never seemed to help much. The difference between a fully ardor-based mind and a human brain was simply too great, apparently.
But perhaps he should treat this as yet another opportunity to learn. With the Core being so portable, it could possibly serve him well as a point of comparison with similar objects. The Candle itself would obviously be the most convenient for that purpose, but given its intimate role in the Core’s creation, it would almost certainly be of limited use here. Their structures would probably be practically identical. In which case, it might be best to compare them for their differences rather than their similarities.
No, what he needed was a sentient object--preferably more than one--that had no ties to the Candle whatsoever. That would likely prove the most illuminating. But he couldn’t do that here, now could he? Such an endeavor would no doubt require--
“Lord Abbas,” came Hector’s voice, along with a forceful hand on his shoulder. “Can you hear me?” He sounded concerned.
Abbas saw the young man there, looking up at him. Apparently, he and Hector had both moved closer to the entrance of the tent. Ah. Abbas had always had a mildly troublesome habit of unconsciously pacing back and forth when brainstorming. “Apologies,” he said. “I was merely lost in thought. Nothing to worry about.”
‘I told you,’ said Worwal. ‘He is fine. He does that all the time. It’s not a side effect of anything.’
Hector pulled his hand back. “Okay, well... good. You just woke up, you know. You had me worried for a second.”
“Did I ignore an important question?” said Abbas, far from the first time in his life.
‘Yes,’ said Garovel. ‘Several, actually. He really does that all the time?’
Friday, October 25, 2024
Page 3705
Hector looked confused. “Unexpected? What’s unexpected, exactly? The fact that I can talk to it? Or the fact that it even has as personality in the first place?”
“The latter, I’m afraid,” said Abbas. “My intent for the Living Core was to have to have it become the foundation of a larger interfacing mechanism for non-servants in the use of ardor. I felt that a complex pseudo-consciousness would be well-suited to that purpose. But from the way you are describing your interactions with it, perhaps I... erred in some way. Hmm.”
‘So you accidentally created a sentient being,’ said Garovel. ‘Wonderful.’
Abbas paused on that thought. Had he truly done so?
No, no, that couldn’t be right. Sure, his plans for the Living Core had been quite advanced--perhaps the most advanced individual item he’d ever developed, even--but it just didn’t make sense to him that it could have manifested an entire personality without him realizing. Its ability to “think” shouldn’t have even been that sophisticated. It was only meant to simplify complex processes and bridge the sensory gap for individuals who could not innately detect ardor.
This didn’t make sense. How could it have--?
Abbas’ expression slackened as a thought struck him, and he felt compelled to ask a new question. “Wait a moment. You said that you... ‘connected’ the Core to the Candle and then ‘dove right in,’ didn’t you?”
“Er. Yeah?”
“And that is when you began to communicate with it?”
“Yeah...”
Oh. Gods. “And are you still able to communicate with it even now? At this very moment?”
Hector’s eyes went from him to the Core and back again. “Y-yeah...”
Abbas rubbed his temples with one hand as he processed that. “Then in that case... I believe that this ‘accident’ as you put it, is not my doing. Or at least, not entirely. It is also yours.”
“W-what do you...? Uh... Oh.” Hector smacked his lips. “We shouldn’t have done that, huh?”
Abbas sighed. “Probably not, no.”
‘Sorry, I’m a little lost here,’ said Garovel. ‘What shouldn’t we have done?’
“When you connected the Core to the Candle--especially so soon after its creation--you essentially poured... an unknowable quantity of ardor and... gods know what else... directly into the Core. So it is not unreasonable to think that the Core may have... shall we say, imprinted some of that metaphysical data onto itself?” Abbas tapped his head and groaned. “Agh, the memory structure! I spent so long weaving it together! I’d just put the finishing touches on it when I passed out, which means... it would have been empty and pristine at the time you connected it to the Candle... ah...”
“The latter, I’m afraid,” said Abbas. “My intent for the Living Core was to have to have it become the foundation of a larger interfacing mechanism for non-servants in the use of ardor. I felt that a complex pseudo-consciousness would be well-suited to that purpose. But from the way you are describing your interactions with it, perhaps I... erred in some way. Hmm.”
‘So you accidentally created a sentient being,’ said Garovel. ‘Wonderful.’
Abbas paused on that thought. Had he truly done so?
No, no, that couldn’t be right. Sure, his plans for the Living Core had been quite advanced--perhaps the most advanced individual item he’d ever developed, even--but it just didn’t make sense to him that it could have manifested an entire personality without him realizing. Its ability to “think” shouldn’t have even been that sophisticated. It was only meant to simplify complex processes and bridge the sensory gap for individuals who could not innately detect ardor.
This didn’t make sense. How could it have--?
Abbas’ expression slackened as a thought struck him, and he felt compelled to ask a new question. “Wait a moment. You said that you... ‘connected’ the Core to the Candle and then ‘dove right in,’ didn’t you?”
“Er. Yeah?”
“And that is when you began to communicate with it?”
“Yeah...”
Oh. Gods. “And are you still able to communicate with it even now? At this very moment?”
Hector’s eyes went from him to the Core and back again. “Y-yeah...”
Abbas rubbed his temples with one hand as he processed that. “Then in that case... I believe that this ‘accident’ as you put it, is not my doing. Or at least, not entirely. It is also yours.”
“W-what do you...? Uh... Oh.” Hector smacked his lips. “We shouldn’t have done that, huh?”
Abbas sighed. “Probably not, no.”
‘Sorry, I’m a little lost here,’ said Garovel. ‘What shouldn’t we have done?’
“When you connected the Core to the Candle--especially so soon after its creation--you essentially poured... an unknowable quantity of ardor and... gods know what else... directly into the Core. So it is not unreasonable to think that the Core may have... shall we say, imprinted some of that metaphysical data onto itself?” Abbas tapped his head and groaned. “Agh, the memory structure! I spent so long weaving it together! I’d just put the finishing touches on it when I passed out, which means... it would have been empty and pristine at the time you connected it to the Candle... ah...”
Thursday, October 24, 2024
Page 3704
‘Oh, right,’ said Garovel. ‘The Candle went completely out of control, and there were branches everywhere. Hector had to cut a path to you. He set the tree on fire, actually.’
“What?!”
“Agh, you didn’t have to tell--”
‘Eh, it’s fine. Don’t worry. Raheem put it out. That’s just how worried Hector was about you. Almost accidentally destroyed one of the most valuable objects on the planet. What a great friend he is, right?’
“Garovel, please stop...”
‘Interesting,’ said Worwal. ‘But I doubt a bit of fire would have destroyed the Candle.’
‘You’re probably right,’ said Garovel. ‘Would’ve been funny, though. In a tragic sort of way.’
‘I think you and I may have very different senses of humor.’
‘Maybe. But anyway, to finish answering your question, you were probably out for a few hours, at least. Raheem could give you a better estimate, I suspect.’
Abbas’ eyes returned to the Living Core in Hector’s hand. The metal band was already wrapped around the boy’s wrist, Abbas noticed. “You said... you used the Core to retrieve Worwal and I?”
‘That’s right,’ said Garovel. ‘And apparently, it wasn’t too keen on cooperating, either. Hector practically had to force it.’
Hector asked the next question. “Did you give it such a bad personality on purpose? That had to have been an accident, right?”
Well, now they were coming up on a portion of the conversation that he didn’t necessarily wish to discuss. Out of embarrassment, primarily. But he supposed there wasn’t much point in trying to save face now, especially when keeping information from these two could just end up causing more problems later.
“...Truthfully,” said Abbas slowly, “the development of the Core required me to tread into... unfamiliar territory. Do you know what a pseudo-consciousness is?”
‘Is it what it sounds like?’ said Garovel. ‘A fake personality?’
“Somewhat,” said Abbas. “More specifically, the term pseudo-consciousness refers to an advanced technique in integration. It is what you might call a ‘soul construct.’ That is, a pocket of soul power that is able to react to some form of stimuli. Typically, that stimulus is a person pressing their own soul power into the associated object. That is the most primitive form of pseudo-consciousness, though it is still quite advanced by conventional integration standards.”
“Hmm,” hummed Hector. “This thing seems way more advanced than just that. It can react to a lot more than just my soul power. I mean, I can talk to it.”
“Y-yes...” Abbas rubbed his chin as his eyes slowly widened. “I must admit, that is... unexpected.”
“What?!”
“Agh, you didn’t have to tell--”
‘Eh, it’s fine. Don’t worry. Raheem put it out. That’s just how worried Hector was about you. Almost accidentally destroyed one of the most valuable objects on the planet. What a great friend he is, right?’
“Garovel, please stop...”
‘Interesting,’ said Worwal. ‘But I doubt a bit of fire would have destroyed the Candle.’
‘You’re probably right,’ said Garovel. ‘Would’ve been funny, though. In a tragic sort of way.’
‘I think you and I may have very different senses of humor.’
‘Maybe. But anyway, to finish answering your question, you were probably out for a few hours, at least. Raheem could give you a better estimate, I suspect.’
Abbas’ eyes returned to the Living Core in Hector’s hand. The metal band was already wrapped around the boy’s wrist, Abbas noticed. “You said... you used the Core to retrieve Worwal and I?”
‘That’s right,’ said Garovel. ‘And apparently, it wasn’t too keen on cooperating, either. Hector practically had to force it.’
Hector asked the next question. “Did you give it such a bad personality on purpose? That had to have been an accident, right?”
Well, now they were coming up on a portion of the conversation that he didn’t necessarily wish to discuss. Out of embarrassment, primarily. But he supposed there wasn’t much point in trying to save face now, especially when keeping information from these two could just end up causing more problems later.
“...Truthfully,” said Abbas slowly, “the development of the Core required me to tread into... unfamiliar territory. Do you know what a pseudo-consciousness is?”
‘Is it what it sounds like?’ said Garovel. ‘A fake personality?’
“Somewhat,” said Abbas. “More specifically, the term pseudo-consciousness refers to an advanced technique in integration. It is what you might call a ‘soul construct.’ That is, a pocket of soul power that is able to react to some form of stimuli. Typically, that stimulus is a person pressing their own soul power into the associated object. That is the most primitive form of pseudo-consciousness, though it is still quite advanced by conventional integration standards.”
“Hmm,” hummed Hector. “This thing seems way more advanced than just that. It can react to a lot more than just my soul power. I mean, I can talk to it.”
“Y-yes...” Abbas rubbed his chin as his eyes slowly widened. “I must admit, that is... unexpected.”
Tuesday, October 22, 2024
Monday, October 21, 2024
Page 3703
The reaper wasn’t done, though. ‘He might be too nice to say it, but I’m not. It seems to me that you could both do with a dose of humility here. You should take Hector’s advice seriously before you get yourselves killed for some completely avoidable reason. And make me sad. You don’t want to make me sad, do you? I hate being sad.’
At this point, Abbas knew that many reapers would take Garovel’s words as a challenge, of sorts, and begin arguing relentlessly with him.
But Worwal was not one such reaper. A fact for which Abbas was eternally grateful.
Instead, Worwal merely looked over at Abbas and returned a nod of his reptilian head, informing him that it was his turn to say what they were both thinking.
“Amusing,” said Abbas, “but I am still a bit confused about what ‘advice’ we are meant to be taking here. I am unsure how I am supposed to ‘be stupider,’ precisely. If I am to take that more seriously, then perhaps you should propose it more seriously, hmm?”
Hector and Garovel exchanged looks of their own, probably consulting each other privately.
Then Hector spoke up again. “Okay. So. I might not be the best at explaining things... but, uh... it’s like this: when you come up against the Void again, your mental state is key. You need to be rock solid. Unmovable. You said it yourself: you experienced a ‘euphoric epiphany,’ right? That’s what’s dangerous. When your emotions try to take over, when they fill you with a sense of power and... ambition, I guess... that’s when things are most likely to go horribly wrong. That’s when the Void will lure you into infinity and make it so you never wake up again. Both of you.”
‘Which is what almost happened, by the way,’ added Garovel. ‘Thankfully, you weren’t yet so far gone that Hector couldn’t dive in and retrieve you. With the aid of your Living Core, it must be said. I’m not trying to argue that you didn’t create something incredible, because you most certainly did.’
Hmm. Interesting.
Rather than responding right away, Abbas took his time mulling that information over.
Worwal had a question for them, though. ‘How long were we unconscious?’
‘Tough to say for sure,’ said Garovel. ‘We didn’t know you were in trouble for a while, because your family thought you were merely being... shall we say, ‘eccentric’ by barricading yourselves inside the tree.’
“Barricading?” said Abbas.
At this point, Abbas knew that many reapers would take Garovel’s words as a challenge, of sorts, and begin arguing relentlessly with him.
But Worwal was not one such reaper. A fact for which Abbas was eternally grateful.
Instead, Worwal merely looked over at Abbas and returned a nod of his reptilian head, informing him that it was his turn to say what they were both thinking.
“Amusing,” said Abbas, “but I am still a bit confused about what ‘advice’ we are meant to be taking here. I am unsure how I am supposed to ‘be stupider,’ precisely. If I am to take that more seriously, then perhaps you should propose it more seriously, hmm?”
Hector and Garovel exchanged looks of their own, probably consulting each other privately.
Then Hector spoke up again. “Okay. So. I might not be the best at explaining things... but, uh... it’s like this: when you come up against the Void again, your mental state is key. You need to be rock solid. Unmovable. You said it yourself: you experienced a ‘euphoric epiphany,’ right? That’s what’s dangerous. When your emotions try to take over, when they fill you with a sense of power and... ambition, I guess... that’s when things are most likely to go horribly wrong. That’s when the Void will lure you into infinity and make it so you never wake up again. Both of you.”
‘Which is what almost happened, by the way,’ added Garovel. ‘Thankfully, you weren’t yet so far gone that Hector couldn’t dive in and retrieve you. With the aid of your Living Core, it must be said. I’m not trying to argue that you didn’t create something incredible, because you most certainly did.’
Hmm. Interesting.
Rather than responding right away, Abbas took his time mulling that information over.
Worwal had a question for them, though. ‘How long were we unconscious?’
‘Tough to say for sure,’ said Garovel. ‘We didn’t know you were in trouble for a while, because your family thought you were merely being... shall we say, ‘eccentric’ by barricading yourselves inside the tree.’
“Barricading?” said Abbas.
Sunday, October 20, 2024
Page 3702
“I know how it sounds,” said Hector, still chuckling a bit. “But I’m serious. I’ve seen this problem many times, thanks to the Candle’s memories. It knows the history of other Forges, too. Forges have always attracted brilliant inventors. And they’ve always come up against this same problem. You understand? I need you to listen to me on this. If you don’t adjust your approach, then the Void--or whatever you wanna call it--it’ll lure you in and eat you alive.”
Worwal glanced at Abbas, and they didn’t even need to exchange words privately in order to know what each other was thinking. Abbas returned a nod, knowing that the reaper would be able to sum up both of their thoughts just fine.
‘We appreciate your concern,’ said Worwal, ‘but let us not forget that, Candle or not, you are still quite inexperienced in these matters, Lord Goffe. Nor are you an inventor. Abbas and I have our own process. We have been doing this for a very long time. And yes, we do understand the risks. But trying to “adjust our approach,” as you put it, would not be as simple a matter as you seem to be implying. Moreover, it might just ruin everything and set our progress back by years, potentially. Which is time that our kin may not have. Particularly, our subjects back in Sair.’
Hector’s brow lowered now. “You know what would really set you back? Getting yourselves killed.”
‘That seems a bit rich, coming from you,’ countered Worwal. ‘You think we aren’t aware of your recent exploits? Knowing that you are not nearly as old as you pretend to be, the risks that you have taken are truly absurd. I would’ve thought that you and Garovel would understand our position a bit better than this.’
“Oh, I understand it perfectly well,” said Hector. “And you make a fair point. Maybe it is a bit rich coming from us. But that’s just another reason why I know what I’m talking about here.”
‘Heh. The confidence of youth. And the naivete, too.’
At that, Garovel, who’d thus far remained silent behind Hector, decided to chime in. ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said the reaper, sounding not sorry at all. ‘Who was it again that pulled your sorry asses out of a coma just now? Ah, that’s right. It was my boy Hector here. So how about you show a little more respect and do as he asks, hmm?’
“Garovel--” tried Hector.
Worwal glanced at Abbas, and they didn’t even need to exchange words privately in order to know what each other was thinking. Abbas returned a nod, knowing that the reaper would be able to sum up both of their thoughts just fine.
‘We appreciate your concern,’ said Worwal, ‘but let us not forget that, Candle or not, you are still quite inexperienced in these matters, Lord Goffe. Nor are you an inventor. Abbas and I have our own process. We have been doing this for a very long time. And yes, we do understand the risks. But trying to “adjust our approach,” as you put it, would not be as simple a matter as you seem to be implying. Moreover, it might just ruin everything and set our progress back by years, potentially. Which is time that our kin may not have. Particularly, our subjects back in Sair.’
Hector’s brow lowered now. “You know what would really set you back? Getting yourselves killed.”
‘That seems a bit rich, coming from you,’ countered Worwal. ‘You think we aren’t aware of your recent exploits? Knowing that you are not nearly as old as you pretend to be, the risks that you have taken are truly absurd. I would’ve thought that you and Garovel would understand our position a bit better than this.’
“Oh, I understand it perfectly well,” said Hector. “And you make a fair point. Maybe it is a bit rich coming from us. But that’s just another reason why I know what I’m talking about here.”
‘Heh. The confidence of youth. And the naivete, too.’
At that, Garovel, who’d thus far remained silent behind Hector, decided to chime in. ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said the reaper, sounding not sorry at all. ‘Who was it again that pulled your sorry asses out of a coma just now? Ah, that’s right. It was my boy Hector here. So how about you show a little more respect and do as he asks, hmm?’
“Garovel--” tried Hector.
Saturday, October 19, 2024
Page 3701
“Help me in what capacity?” said Abbas. “You’ve already done more than I could have imagined.”
“The Void,” said Hector. “Talk to me about it. When have you encountered it before?”
Abbas had no idea where this was going, but he supposed there was no reason not to answer. “That is a difficult matter. It’s something that inventors have contended with throughout history. Even before I ever faced it myself, I had heard the tales. About how the greatest minds to ever live could reach out and touch this... realm of brilliance. Some called it the Void, yes. Others called it Enlightenment. Or the Heavens. But all agreed that it was something beyond the self. A rarely reachable place where new ideas could be discovered, where old ideas could be found again, and where struggling ideas could come together and find beautiful harmony.”
Hector remained quiet, merely listening.
At the boy’s apparent attentiveness, Abbas decided to continue. “As for myself, I have been fortunate enough to encounter this feeling on... six occasions that I can remember. Now, whether or not I truly came face-to-face with the so-called Void in these moments... well, that may be unknowable. I can only report how I felt. And the results that followed. Each time, I was met with a great euphoric epiphany. A breakthrough in the work that I had been toiling away at for... years, in most cases. And there is no doubt in my mind that I would have been incapable of building my armor if I had never experienced those moments.”
Hector nodded. “Okay. I understand the problem.”
“Problem?”
“Yes,” the young lord went on. “The problem, Lord Abbas, is that you’re too smart.”
Abbas returned a dull blink. “Excuse me?”
“First, you need to adjust your mindset. Because you’re too smart, you need to slow down and come to the realization--the epiphany, to use your word--that you’re actually not smart. That you’re a big dumbass.”
“Hector, I am receiving some rather mixed messaging here...”
“Look. The Void will turn your own intellect against you. Your mind will become lost to infinity. So... yeah, in a weird way, you need to become stupider.”
‘In that regard, this conversation will surely help,’ said Worwal.
At that scathing remark, Abbas might’ve expected the Lord of Warrenhold to take offense.
But Hector just paused for a laugh, instead.
Which ended up pulling one out of Worwal, too.
Quite the uncommon sight from his reaper, Abbas noted with mild shock.
“The Void,” said Hector. “Talk to me about it. When have you encountered it before?”
Abbas had no idea where this was going, but he supposed there was no reason not to answer. “That is a difficult matter. It’s something that inventors have contended with throughout history. Even before I ever faced it myself, I had heard the tales. About how the greatest minds to ever live could reach out and touch this... realm of brilliance. Some called it the Void, yes. Others called it Enlightenment. Or the Heavens. But all agreed that it was something beyond the self. A rarely reachable place where new ideas could be discovered, where old ideas could be found again, and where struggling ideas could come together and find beautiful harmony.”
Hector remained quiet, merely listening.
At the boy’s apparent attentiveness, Abbas decided to continue. “As for myself, I have been fortunate enough to encounter this feeling on... six occasions that I can remember. Now, whether or not I truly came face-to-face with the so-called Void in these moments... well, that may be unknowable. I can only report how I felt. And the results that followed. Each time, I was met with a great euphoric epiphany. A breakthrough in the work that I had been toiling away at for... years, in most cases. And there is no doubt in my mind that I would have been incapable of building my armor if I had never experienced those moments.”
Hector nodded. “Okay. I understand the problem.”
“Problem?”
“Yes,” the young lord went on. “The problem, Lord Abbas, is that you’re too smart.”
Abbas returned a dull blink. “Excuse me?”
“First, you need to adjust your mindset. Because you’re too smart, you need to slow down and come to the realization--the epiphany, to use your word--that you’re actually not smart. That you’re a big dumbass.”
“Hector, I am receiving some rather mixed messaging here...”
“Look. The Void will turn your own intellect against you. Your mind will become lost to infinity. So... yeah, in a weird way, you need to become stupider.”
‘In that regard, this conversation will surely help,’ said Worwal.
At that scathing remark, Abbas might’ve expected the Lord of Warrenhold to take offense.
But Hector just paused for a laugh, instead.
Which ended up pulling one out of Worwal, too.
Quite the uncommon sight from his reaper, Abbas noted with mild shock.
Friday, October 18, 2024
Page 3700
Abbas chewed on that question for a bit as he met Hector’s gaze. He decided against answering it straight away. “The Void... that is what Abolish calls it. Their god.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s as simple as that,” said Hector. He squinted. “And something tells me that you don’t think so, either.”
Hmm. “What do you know of the Void?” said Abbas.
“...I asked you first,” said Hector. “You’re not trying to avoid my question, are you?”
Hmph. He supposed there was no point in trying to hide anything, considering how invested he and his kin already were with this young man. “...No, that was not my first time encountering it. I’ve glimpsed it before. A few different times, in truth.”
Hector’s head reared back a little, but the stern expression on his face didn’t change into one of surprise. “So you knew the danger. And did it, anyway.”
Abbas pulled his legs over to the side of the bed and sat on the edge, putting his back to Hector but not standing to his feet just yet. “Of course I did.”
“Then why did you--? Agh. That was so reckless!”
“Hah! Hector. This is the risk we take. This is the nature of working with a Fusion Forge. I told you before, did I not? The Candle may be “gentle,” but that does not make it harmless. In some ways, that may even make it more dangerous. It can lure one into a false sense of security.”
“I understand that,” said Hector. “But you still could have at least told me you were planning to do something risky. That way, I would’ve been more prepared to help you, if something went wrong. Like it did.”
“Hector. Every time I use the Forge, this can happen. There is no safe handling of it. I knew the danger, yes, but I had no reason to think that this instance would be any different from the others. Because, frankly, it wasn’t. This was just the first time things went wrong.” He stood up and straightened his robe. “There will probably be more.”
The young Lord of Warrenhold stood up, too. “Respectfully, Lord Abbas, that’s a stupid approach to take. And unlike you.”
Abbas chortled. “I don’t disagree. But I’m not going to stop using the Forge.”
“I’m not saying you should,” said Hector. “I’m saying you should be smarter about it. We should be smarter about it. Let me help you.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s as simple as that,” said Hector. He squinted. “And something tells me that you don’t think so, either.”
Hmm. “What do you know of the Void?” said Abbas.
“...I asked you first,” said Hector. “You’re not trying to avoid my question, are you?”
Hmph. He supposed there was no point in trying to hide anything, considering how invested he and his kin already were with this young man. “...No, that was not my first time encountering it. I’ve glimpsed it before. A few different times, in truth.”
Hector’s head reared back a little, but the stern expression on his face didn’t change into one of surprise. “So you knew the danger. And did it, anyway.”
Abbas pulled his legs over to the side of the bed and sat on the edge, putting his back to Hector but not standing to his feet just yet. “Of course I did.”
“Then why did you--? Agh. That was so reckless!”
“Hah! Hector. This is the risk we take. This is the nature of working with a Fusion Forge. I told you before, did I not? The Candle may be “gentle,” but that does not make it harmless. In some ways, that may even make it more dangerous. It can lure one into a false sense of security.”
“I understand that,” said Hector. “But you still could have at least told me you were planning to do something risky. That way, I would’ve been more prepared to help you, if something went wrong. Like it did.”
“Hector. Every time I use the Forge, this can happen. There is no safe handling of it. I knew the danger, yes, but I had no reason to think that this instance would be any different from the others. Because, frankly, it wasn’t. This was just the first time things went wrong.” He stood up and straightened his robe. “There will probably be more.”
The young Lord of Warrenhold stood up, too. “Respectfully, Lord Abbas, that’s a stupid approach to take. And unlike you.”
Abbas chortled. “I don’t disagree. But I’m not going to stop using the Forge.”
“I’m not saying you should,” said Hector. “I’m saying you should be smarter about it. We should be smarter about it. Let me help you.”
Thursday, October 17, 2024
Page 3699
Abbas sat up more fully in his bed. “...Personality-wise, you say? So you have already managed to communicate with it?”
“Yeah,” said Hector.
“How in the world did you accomplish that? I have not yet created instructions for its use.”
“Oh, uh. I just kinda... connected it to the Big Candle and dove right in.”
“The Big Candle?”
“Right, uh. Since we’ve got this Mini-Candle now. Big Candle and Mini-Candle.”
Wow. Abbas needed a moment. “Alright, well, before you go renaming my creations permanently, that object is called the Living Core.”
“Oh. Huh. Okay. I guess that sounds better than Mini-Candle, anyway.”
“If you were able to communicate with it, then I am surprised you were not able to learn its name without my help.”
Hector paused for an odd look, then clicked his tongue. “Uh... well, there might be a reason for that...”
“What do you mean?” said Abbas.
“Ah... I’m not sure how to tell you this, but, er... this thing, the Living Core... it doesn’t seem to like you very much.”
Abbas blinked again and furrowed his brow. “Excuse me?”
“Like I mentioned, it’s kind of a dick. It doesn’t appreciate you. In fact, that’s why you and Worwal both nearly died.”
Died? Hmm. Yes, this was the second time Hector was mentioning that, but only now was it beginning to sink in. “How... how did it nearly kill us?”
Hector took a long breath. “Well, from what I’ve been able to piece together, this Living Core here... ah... it led you astray. Technically, I guess it didn’t try to kill you directly, meaning with its own power, but... it was the equivalent of leading you into a minefield. With a blindfold on.”
“...How do you know this?”
Hector scratched his brow. “It’s hard to explain. The power that this thing can tap into is the same as the Candle. Or maybe that’s only when it’s connected to the Candle. I’m not sure yet. But the point is, it leads to a deep, dark place. Full of... incredible power. Infinite, maybe. It might be what they call the Void.”
Abbas remained quiet, though he exchanged looks with Worwal.
“I’ve felt it once before,” Hector went on. “Recently, actually. In my meditations. So I knew a little of how to deal with it. But you...” Hector leveled a stare at Abbas. “Was that the first time you’ve ever encountered it?”
“Yeah,” said Hector.
“How in the world did you accomplish that? I have not yet created instructions for its use.”
“Oh, uh. I just kinda... connected it to the Big Candle and dove right in.”
“The Big Candle?”
“Right, uh. Since we’ve got this Mini-Candle now. Big Candle and Mini-Candle.”
Wow. Abbas needed a moment. “Alright, well, before you go renaming my creations permanently, that object is called the Living Core.”
“Oh. Huh. Okay. I guess that sounds better than Mini-Candle, anyway.”
“If you were able to communicate with it, then I am surprised you were not able to learn its name without my help.”
Hector paused for an odd look, then clicked his tongue. “Uh... well, there might be a reason for that...”
“What do you mean?” said Abbas.
“Ah... I’m not sure how to tell you this, but, er... this thing, the Living Core... it doesn’t seem to like you very much.”
Abbas blinked again and furrowed his brow. “Excuse me?”
“Like I mentioned, it’s kind of a dick. It doesn’t appreciate you. In fact, that’s why you and Worwal both nearly died.”
Died? Hmm. Yes, this was the second time Hector was mentioning that, but only now was it beginning to sink in. “How... how did it nearly kill us?”
Hector took a long breath. “Well, from what I’ve been able to piece together, this Living Core here... ah... it led you astray. Technically, I guess it didn’t try to kill you directly, meaning with its own power, but... it was the equivalent of leading you into a minefield. With a blindfold on.”
“...How do you know this?”
Hector scratched his brow. “It’s hard to explain. The power that this thing can tap into is the same as the Candle. Or maybe that’s only when it’s connected to the Candle. I’m not sure yet. But the point is, it leads to a deep, dark place. Full of... incredible power. Infinite, maybe. It might be what they call the Void.”
Abbas remained quiet, though he exchanged looks with Worwal.
“I’ve felt it once before,” Hector went on. “Recently, actually. In my meditations. So I knew a little of how to deal with it. But you...” Hector leveled a stare at Abbas. “Was that the first time you’ve ever encountered it?”
Wednesday, October 16, 2024
Page 3698 -- CCCIV.
Chapter Three Hundred Four: ‘Awakening of the Sun...’
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Abbas Saqqaf groaned as his eyes eased open. They resisted. They wanted to stay closed. And he wanted to let them, too. But in his gut, he knew he couldn’t. He knew something was amiss.
He tried to sit up and encountered more resistance there. He pushed through that, too.
He found a dimly lit room around him. A bed beneath him. The smell of morning dew in the air.
“There you are,” came a voice on his left. “Welcome back.”
It was the Lord of Warrenhold sitting there, he realized between blinks. The young black man had a grip on Abbas’ forearm. Instinctually, he wanted to ask why, but when he laid eyes on the glowing object in Hector’s other hand, he became much more interested in that.
The Living Core. Hector was holding it. Hector was using it.
Abbas stared.
“Your family has been worried about you,” said Hector, letting go of him, “but not as much as they would have been, if they knew just how close you and Worwal came to killing yourselves. Before I let anyone else in here, you and I need to have a talk.”
Worwal? Ah, there he was on the right. To his eyes, reapers were regal horned lizards with ethereal black-and-white flames tracing the outlines of their bodies.
‘It seems we’ve upset our host,’ said Worwal.
“I’m not mad,” said Hector, sounding quite mad. “But this thing you’ve created is incredibly dangerous. I wish you would’ve at least told me more about it before actually trying to forge it.”
Ah...
Abbas had to clear his throat before speaking. “Yes, well... with the benefit of hindsight, I would have to agree. It did not seem such a dangerous idea at the time...”
“Creating a living, thinking interface didn’t seem that dangerous?” said Hector.
The doubt in the young man’s voice made Abbas feel suddenly defensive, but he had to ask something else first. “What have you learned of it so far?”
“Oh, quite a bit,” said Hector. “I’ve learned that it’s capable of making moral judgments. I’ve learned that it can influence you emotionally. I’ve learned that it can manipulate soul power and ardor. But most importantly, I’ve learned that, personality-wise, it’s kind of a dick.”
Abbas almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
Almost.
When dealing with this particular person, Abbas was somehow beginning to feel as though incredulity was to be expected.
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)
Abbas Saqqaf groaned as his eyes eased open. They resisted. They wanted to stay closed. And he wanted to let them, too. But in his gut, he knew he couldn’t. He knew something was amiss.
He tried to sit up and encountered more resistance there. He pushed through that, too.
He found a dimly lit room around him. A bed beneath him. The smell of morning dew in the air.
“There you are,” came a voice on his left. “Welcome back.”
It was the Lord of Warrenhold sitting there, he realized between blinks. The young black man had a grip on Abbas’ forearm. Instinctually, he wanted to ask why, but when he laid eyes on the glowing object in Hector’s other hand, he became much more interested in that.
The Living Core. Hector was holding it. Hector was using it.
Abbas stared.
“Your family has been worried about you,” said Hector, letting go of him, “but not as much as they would have been, if they knew just how close you and Worwal came to killing yourselves. Before I let anyone else in here, you and I need to have a talk.”
Worwal? Ah, there he was on the right. To his eyes, reapers were regal horned lizards with ethereal black-and-white flames tracing the outlines of their bodies.
‘It seems we’ve upset our host,’ said Worwal.
“I’m not mad,” said Hector, sounding quite mad. “But this thing you’ve created is incredibly dangerous. I wish you would’ve at least told me more about it before actually trying to forge it.”
Ah...
Abbas had to clear his throat before speaking. “Yes, well... with the benefit of hindsight, I would have to agree. It did not seem such a dangerous idea at the time...”
“Creating a living, thinking interface didn’t seem that dangerous?” said Hector.
The doubt in the young man’s voice made Abbas feel suddenly defensive, but he had to ask something else first. “What have you learned of it so far?”
“Oh, quite a bit,” said Hector. “I’ve learned that it’s capable of making moral judgments. I’ve learned that it can influence you emotionally. I’ve learned that it can manipulate soul power and ardor. But most importantly, I’ve learned that, personality-wise, it’s kind of a dick.”
Abbas almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
Almost.
When dealing with this particular person, Abbas was somehow beginning to feel as though incredulity was to be expected.
Tuesday, October 15, 2024
Page 3697
He climbed to his knees and finally regained a proper sense of environmental awareness as his vision cleared. And yet he felt more confused than ever, because he could hardly understand what he was looking at.
The entire world was on fire. Everything around him. Ablaze.
Even himself. All up his arms and legs and chest. But these weren’t the reddish flames of his lutetium.
And strangest of all, they didn’t hurt, either. Because of numbness? No. The flames weren’t burning him. Not cooking his flesh.
If anything, he was feeling somewhat better, actually. Invigorated. This was the intense heat that he felt before. It wasn’t painful. It was like a deeply warm embrace, covering his entire body.
But he could see other things burning around him, too. Smoke and damage. Craters in the ground. Burning men running across his vision. Screaming.
What the hell was happening here?
Kerikos stirred within his grasp. ‘Ogh...’
‘Kerikos!’ thought Vito. ‘You’re conscious?!’
‘Mgh... I don’t... what...?’
Before he could question the reaper any further, however, a blinding light in the sky stole his attention, and he had to shield his eyes. When it abated, he saw a great fireball suspended there, looking not unlike a meteor, but it was just hung there in midair, seemingly not moving.
And then it clicked for him. Could that be Jackson up there?
Vito had heard that the Radiant Sentinel, the Star of the West, had gone mysteriously missing after a terrible battle with the Mad Demon in the Uego Desert. Theories abounded about what might have become of him, but one of the more popular ones had been that he was recovering here in Intar.
If that was really him, then perhaps the situation wasn’t so--
Agh, he was getting distracted, Vito realized. He needed to find Prince David again. In all this chaos, that was going to be difficult. He needed a reaper’s senses.
‘Kerikos, can you hear me?’
‘Rgh...’
‘Kerikos!’
No response, this time.
Shit.
He tucked the reaper under his arm as he looked around. The flames all over his body had diminished, but they weren’t entirely vanishing, and the same could be said for those covering the courtyard. It was a bit easier to see, at least. And he recalled the general direction in which the Prince had been fleeing.
So he started running.
Whatever else was going on around him, whatever this mad battle was and whatever big names might be involved in it, Vito Sebolt knew his task. And he was going to see it done.
The entire world was on fire. Everything around him. Ablaze.
Even himself. All up his arms and legs and chest. But these weren’t the reddish flames of his lutetium.
And strangest of all, they didn’t hurt, either. Because of numbness? No. The flames weren’t burning him. Not cooking his flesh.
If anything, he was feeling somewhat better, actually. Invigorated. This was the intense heat that he felt before. It wasn’t painful. It was like a deeply warm embrace, covering his entire body.
But he could see other things burning around him, too. Smoke and damage. Craters in the ground. Burning men running across his vision. Screaming.
What the hell was happening here?
Kerikos stirred within his grasp. ‘Ogh...’
‘Kerikos!’ thought Vito. ‘You’re conscious?!’
‘Mgh... I don’t... what...?’
Before he could question the reaper any further, however, a blinding light in the sky stole his attention, and he had to shield his eyes. When it abated, he saw a great fireball suspended there, looking not unlike a meteor, but it was just hung there in midair, seemingly not moving.
And then it clicked for him. Could that be Jackson up there?
Vito had heard that the Radiant Sentinel, the Star of the West, had gone mysteriously missing after a terrible battle with the Mad Demon in the Uego Desert. Theories abounded about what might have become of him, but one of the more popular ones had been that he was recovering here in Intar.
If that was really him, then perhaps the situation wasn’t so--
Agh, he was getting distracted, Vito realized. He needed to find Prince David again. In all this chaos, that was going to be difficult. He needed a reaper’s senses.
‘Kerikos, can you hear me?’
‘Rgh...’
‘Kerikos!’
No response, this time.
Shit.
He tucked the reaper under his arm as he looked around. The flames all over his body had diminished, but they weren’t entirely vanishing, and the same could be said for those covering the courtyard. It was a bit easier to see, at least. And he recalled the general direction in which the Prince had been fleeing.
So he started running.
Whatever else was going on around him, whatever this mad battle was and whatever big names might be involved in it, Vito Sebolt knew his task. And he was going to see it done.
Monday, October 14, 2024
Page 3696
Something was pushing down on him now. As if gravity had suddenly quadrupled. He could feel it there on his back. The added pressure. Almost like the foot of a giant. Was it real? An actual giant pinning him down?
He discarded the questions as soon as they entered his mind. Distractions. Unimportant. Didn’t matter if it was real or not. Didn’t matter if the Mad Demon himself was sitting on his back, right now.
The only thing that mattered was reaching Kerikos.
His muscles ached. Fatigue struck.
But so what?
His body didn’t want to listen to him?
So what? He was in charge, not his body.
He could hardly think straight?
So what? There was only one thing to think about, anyway.
Time stretching away from him?
So what? Time could stretch for a thousand years. Vito would crawl for a thousand and one.
The entire world was unraveling around him? Peeling away from his vision like a torn painting?
So. What.
He crawled. And kept crawling. Ignoring all the rest. Everything else.
And finally, he reached his reaper. With his lone hand, he grabbed the lump of soul power that was Kerikos and pulled him close.
And he breathed. He didn’t know what to do now, but that was fine. For the moment, that was fine. He could figure that out later.
Ground shaking.
Whatever.
Kerikos was alive. But just barely. Completely unconscious. Unable to reinitiate the hyperstate. Problem? Mm. Maybe for the best. Might not have been able to maintain it for much longer, anyway.
Tired.
Absurdly so.
Not sure he’d ever felt so tired before. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t recall. Wanted to slip off. To sleep. To rest. Deserved it, didn’t he? Such a long day. Time to let go.
...Except.
Bother. There was a bother. Still. Somehow. Somewhere.
Back of his mind. Couldn’t grasp it. But it was there. Scratching at him. Yelling at him. Familiar faces with familiar voices. So familiar. And yet, he felt certain that he’d never seen them before. How could that be?
They were reaching out to him. And he heard what they were saying. Just a bit. Just enough.
“Not yet.”
His palm found the hard earth. And after a moment, his other palm found it, too. Regrown. Still regenerating. Slow but steady.
His bare skin felt the grass again. And the cool air.
No. Not cool, actually. Extremely warm. An intense heat. Had he set himself on fire again? That didn’t seem right.
He discarded the questions as soon as they entered his mind. Distractions. Unimportant. Didn’t matter if it was real or not. Didn’t matter if the Mad Demon himself was sitting on his back, right now.
The only thing that mattered was reaching Kerikos.
His muscles ached. Fatigue struck.
But so what?
His body didn’t want to listen to him?
So what? He was in charge, not his body.
He could hardly think straight?
So what? There was only one thing to think about, anyway.
Time stretching away from him?
So what? Time could stretch for a thousand years. Vito would crawl for a thousand and one.
The entire world was unraveling around him? Peeling away from his vision like a torn painting?
So. What.
He crawled. And kept crawling. Ignoring all the rest. Everything else.
And finally, he reached his reaper. With his lone hand, he grabbed the lump of soul power that was Kerikos and pulled him close.
And he breathed. He didn’t know what to do now, but that was fine. For the moment, that was fine. He could figure that out later.
Ground shaking.
Whatever.
Kerikos was alive. But just barely. Completely unconscious. Unable to reinitiate the hyperstate. Problem? Mm. Maybe for the best. Might not have been able to maintain it for much longer, anyway.
Tired.
Absurdly so.
Not sure he’d ever felt so tired before. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t recall. Wanted to slip off. To sleep. To rest. Deserved it, didn’t he? Such a long day. Time to let go.
...Except.
Bother. There was a bother. Still. Somehow. Somewhere.
Back of his mind. Couldn’t grasp it. But it was there. Scratching at him. Yelling at him. Familiar faces with familiar voices. So familiar. And yet, he felt certain that he’d never seen them before. How could that be?
They were reaching out to him. And he heard what they were saying. Just a bit. Just enough.
“Not yet.”
His palm found the hard earth. And after a moment, his other palm found it, too. Regrown. Still regenerating. Slow but steady.
His bare skin felt the grass again. And the cool air.
No. Not cool, actually. Extremely warm. An intense heat. Had he set himself on fire again? That didn’t seem right.
Thursday, October 10, 2024
Wednesday, October 9, 2024
Page 3695
Vito was floundering. His mind felt scattered. His senses. His limbs. Why weren’t they reappearing? The regeneration. It was still happening. He could feel it. But it was slow. Not like pan-forma. What happened to the hyperstate?
His senses. Yes. No. Foggy. Too greatly diminished. Something was very wrong, and he quickly realized what it was.
‘Kerikos?’ he thought. ‘Where are you?’
There. Vito saw the reaper in the grass, not far away. Smoldering with ethereal, black-and-white smoke. Wounded. Badly.
To Vito’s eyes, the reaper was supposed to look like a honey badger, but right now, Kerikos was virtually without form. Little more than a blob.
Vito crawled with his one arm, trying to will the other to grow back faster.
So much blood. Still gushing out of his wounds even as they healed.
He didn’t understand. How had they been separated? Where had the attack even come from?
Might this be how he was going to die? Without even a clue as to what happened? Just caught up in some mayhem beyond his comprehension? Wrong place, wrong time? In some foreign land? Never to see his family again? His dorky little sister? His stubborn father? His brave cousins? Lord Dimas?
This wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair, either. He couldn’t explain why. Couldn’t think it through. Couldn’t process any of it.
But he could feel it. In his gut, he could feel it. How wrong this was. How cruel.
He kept pushing. Kept crawling. Somehow, with each passing moment, it seemed to be getting harder, not easier. That also made no sense. He was still regenerating. He should’ve felt the improvement. And yet.
It was like the world itself was pushing down on him. Telling him to stop crawling. Telling him to give up.
It kept growing more difficult. His vision stretched before him. It felt like Kerikos was getting farther away, too. Not closer. That couldn’t be right. Even time itself was all wrong. This felt like an eternity going by. How could Kerikos be so far away? He’d been right there a moment ago.
Agh. He knew the problem. Rationally, he knew it. He was delirious. His senses were lying to him. Aftermath of the hyperstate. That had to be it. Only explanation.
Or he was dying. Truly dying. Turning slowly feral after his link to his reaper had been severed.
No. No, no. He refused to believe it. That was just the fear talking. Trying to take over. Make him panic.
Kerikos was right there. Wounded, sure, but still alive. He could almost touch him.
His senses. Yes. No. Foggy. Too greatly diminished. Something was very wrong, and he quickly realized what it was.
‘Kerikos?’ he thought. ‘Where are you?’
There. Vito saw the reaper in the grass, not far away. Smoldering with ethereal, black-and-white smoke. Wounded. Badly.
To Vito’s eyes, the reaper was supposed to look like a honey badger, but right now, Kerikos was virtually without form. Little more than a blob.
Vito crawled with his one arm, trying to will the other to grow back faster.
So much blood. Still gushing out of his wounds even as they healed.
He didn’t understand. How had they been separated? Where had the attack even come from?
Might this be how he was going to die? Without even a clue as to what happened? Just caught up in some mayhem beyond his comprehension? Wrong place, wrong time? In some foreign land? Never to see his family again? His dorky little sister? His stubborn father? His brave cousins? Lord Dimas?
This wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair, either. He couldn’t explain why. Couldn’t think it through. Couldn’t process any of it.
But he could feel it. In his gut, he could feel it. How wrong this was. How cruel.
He kept pushing. Kept crawling. Somehow, with each passing moment, it seemed to be getting harder, not easier. That also made no sense. He was still regenerating. He should’ve felt the improvement. And yet.
It was like the world itself was pushing down on him. Telling him to stop crawling. Telling him to give up.
It kept growing more difficult. His vision stretched before him. It felt like Kerikos was getting farther away, too. Not closer. That couldn’t be right. Even time itself was all wrong. This felt like an eternity going by. How could Kerikos be so far away? He’d been right there a moment ago.
Agh. He knew the problem. Rationally, he knew it. He was delirious. His senses were lying to him. Aftermath of the hyperstate. That had to be it. Only explanation.
Or he was dying. Truly dying. Turning slowly feral after his link to his reaper had been severed.
No. No, no. He refused to believe it. That was just the fear talking. Trying to take over. Make him panic.
Kerikos was right there. Wounded, sure, but still alive. He could almost touch him.
Tuesday, October 8, 2024
Page 3694
After another moment, he noticed people in the crater. They were gathered together at the bottom, looking around with apparent confusion.
Kerikos recognized their soul signatures as that of the Abolishers who’d just been in the area. They’d been spared from the blast--or whatever it was that had made the crater.
More disturbingly, Kerikos could not sense any of the castle guards who those Abolishers had just been fighting. Which could only mean one thing.
This crater was undoubtedly the work of Abolish. Perhaps their leader, even. So there was nothing to prevent another crater from appearing on top of Vito and Kerikos, right now.
They had to move. Barnabas and the other Abolishers were looking similarly befuddled, so Vito decided to take the opening to flee before they came back to their senses. This fight wasn’t important. Only the Prince’s safety was.
Kerikos had a bead on Prince David’s position. Vito bolted through the corridor, bounding over rubble and weaving between more fights going on along the way. He spared a blanket of flaming lutetium for another group of attackers as he passed, but that was it. The remaining castle guards would have to fend for themselves.
Another problem arose when he sensed some of the previous Abolishers in pursuit. The last thing he wanted to do was bring hostiles closer to the Prince, but another brief quake cut that concern short, and Vito saw another gaping hole in the castle on his left. Where entire rooms had been, now only open air remained.
The pursuers were the lesser worry now, he felt. He had to get Prince David away from these vaporizing blasts first. The pursuers could be dealt with later.
More running. Dodging. Weaving through mayhem. A tall window offered a shortcut, and he took it, crashing through to reach the outer edge of the castle grounds. He had eyes on Prince David now, scrambling through an enormous garden among a crowd of other non-combatants. They’d nearly reached the castle’s eastern exit. Would that be far enough away from the danger? Probably not, Vito felt.
Then his vision went white, and his mind blanked out. When he regained awareness, he was flat on his back in the grass.
What in the world was that? Had he gotten hit? Was he hit? Where was he hit? Where? He couldn’t feel--
The left half of his body was missing. No arm. No leg. He still had both eyes, though.
Kerikos recognized their soul signatures as that of the Abolishers who’d just been in the area. They’d been spared from the blast--or whatever it was that had made the crater.
More disturbingly, Kerikos could not sense any of the castle guards who those Abolishers had just been fighting. Which could only mean one thing.
This crater was undoubtedly the work of Abolish. Perhaps their leader, even. So there was nothing to prevent another crater from appearing on top of Vito and Kerikos, right now.
They had to move. Barnabas and the other Abolishers were looking similarly befuddled, so Vito decided to take the opening to flee before they came back to their senses. This fight wasn’t important. Only the Prince’s safety was.
Kerikos had a bead on Prince David’s position. Vito bolted through the corridor, bounding over rubble and weaving between more fights going on along the way. He spared a blanket of flaming lutetium for another group of attackers as he passed, but that was it. The remaining castle guards would have to fend for themselves.
Another problem arose when he sensed some of the previous Abolishers in pursuit. The last thing he wanted to do was bring hostiles closer to the Prince, but another brief quake cut that concern short, and Vito saw another gaping hole in the castle on his left. Where entire rooms had been, now only open air remained.
The pursuers were the lesser worry now, he felt. He had to get Prince David away from these vaporizing blasts first. The pursuers could be dealt with later.
More running. Dodging. Weaving through mayhem. A tall window offered a shortcut, and he took it, crashing through to reach the outer edge of the castle grounds. He had eyes on Prince David now, scrambling through an enormous garden among a crowd of other non-combatants. They’d nearly reached the castle’s eastern exit. Would that be far enough away from the danger? Probably not, Vito felt.
Then his vision went white, and his mind blanked out. When he regained awareness, he was flat on his back in the grass.
What in the world was that? Had he gotten hit? Was he hit? Where was he hit? Where? He couldn’t feel--
The left half of his body was missing. No arm. No leg. He still had both eyes, though.
Monday, October 7, 2024
Page 3693
“All that talk about honor,” said Barnabas, “and yet what are you doing now? Trying to bring others into our fight. I told my men to hang back so that you and I could have a proper go of it. You disappoint me, stranger.”
“That’s not honor,” countered Vito. “What you’re talking about is merely pride. Honor is something done in service of others, not to satisfy one’s own ego.”
“Rationalizations of the cowardly.”
“That is incorrect. Would I like for us to have a proper duel? Sure. But when you have responsibilities beyond indulging in your own personal desires, honor becomes something much greater than a simple feeling in your gut.”
Barnabas squinted at him but made no further retort.
“I respect your desire for an honest fight,” said Vito. “If I can spare your life, I will. But it seems to me that the company you keep has given you a false concept of what true honor is.” Not that Vito was terribly surprised by that. Anyone who participated in the wanton slaughter of civilians couldn’t have understood much about honor, no matter what they said.
Vito decided to hold his tongue on those last thoughts, though. He had a feeling that they would fall on deaf ears to any Abolisher, since they’d probably heard something similar countless times before. Kerikos had often found that people had an odd compulsion to disagree with arguments they’d heard too many times, regardless of how much merit said arguments actually had.
For his part, Barnabas remained quiet, merely standing there instead of continuing the attack.
Which Vito found surprising. Perhaps he should have used this opportunity to press his own advantage, but something was stopping him. Something in that uncertain expression on the other man’s face.
Before their dialogue could resume, however, another quake arrived; but this one was unlike any of the others.
It was sharp and brief. Not terribly disorienting--or even that dangerous, really.
But something else occurred along with it.
The entire corridor behind Barnabas was gone. The connecting rooms, too. Part of the courtyard. An entire chunk of the castle.
Just gone.
In its place was a great crater. A half-sphere, gouged out of the building and the earth. And stranger still, it looked so clearly cut. Not like the aftermath of an explosion. Rather, it looked more like the mass had simply been subtracted from the space that it had been occupying mere moments ago.
Wide-eyed, Vito had no idea what to make of it.
“That’s not honor,” countered Vito. “What you’re talking about is merely pride. Honor is something done in service of others, not to satisfy one’s own ego.”
“Rationalizations of the cowardly.”
“That is incorrect. Would I like for us to have a proper duel? Sure. But when you have responsibilities beyond indulging in your own personal desires, honor becomes something much greater than a simple feeling in your gut.”
Barnabas squinted at him but made no further retort.
“I respect your desire for an honest fight,” said Vito. “If I can spare your life, I will. But it seems to me that the company you keep has given you a false concept of what true honor is.” Not that Vito was terribly surprised by that. Anyone who participated in the wanton slaughter of civilians couldn’t have understood much about honor, no matter what they said.
Vito decided to hold his tongue on those last thoughts, though. He had a feeling that they would fall on deaf ears to any Abolisher, since they’d probably heard something similar countless times before. Kerikos had often found that people had an odd compulsion to disagree with arguments they’d heard too many times, regardless of how much merit said arguments actually had.
For his part, Barnabas remained quiet, merely standing there instead of continuing the attack.
Which Vito found surprising. Perhaps he should have used this opportunity to press his own advantage, but something was stopping him. Something in that uncertain expression on the other man’s face.
Before their dialogue could resume, however, another quake arrived; but this one was unlike any of the others.
It was sharp and brief. Not terribly disorienting--or even that dangerous, really.
But something else occurred along with it.
The entire corridor behind Barnabas was gone. The connecting rooms, too. Part of the courtyard. An entire chunk of the castle.
Just gone.
In its place was a great crater. A half-sphere, gouged out of the building and the earth. And stranger still, it looked so clearly cut. Not like the aftermath of an explosion. Rather, it looked more like the mass had simply been subtracted from the space that it had been occupying mere moments ago.
Wide-eyed, Vito had no idea what to make of it.
Sunday, October 6, 2024
Page 3692
The duplicates went in all different directions, and soon as he saw Barnabas swing at the wrong ones, he sent out an extra duplicate--this one ablaze--toward the group of hostiles on the other side of the hall.
It soared over there like a burning missile and erupted into a blanketing inferno, catching multiple opponents on fire at once.
Good. That was-- Barnabas twisted suddenly and backhanded him across the face.
Vito staggered. And instinctively, he knew that the next, far more deadly blow would already be on the way. That meager attack could only have been meant to create an opening for a follow-up with that club.
So without thinking or even trying to regain his footing, Vito dropped to the ground just as the club swung horizontally over his head. Then he went for Barnabas’ right leg, wrapping himself around it like a snake and twisting in order to pull Barnabas down the ground along with him.
Normally, this was a move that could paralyze the opponent with pain, but that obviously wasn’t going to work on a servant. It was, however, still quite useful for shifting the momentum of the fight. By now, Vito knew only too well how dangerous it was to fight this guy up close, so he decided to scramble back up to his feet while still maintaining his grip on Barnabas’ leg. Then he mustered all his strength and swung the man around like a sack of concrete, sending him crashing into a wall. Wood, plaster, and insulation exploded out of the impact point, covering the area in dust and debris.
And then there was an opening in the fight. Vito considered using it dive through the debris and pummel Barnabas up close, but he decided not to risk it and throw a blanket of flames over the scene, instead.
This way, Kerikos could also reacquire the location of Prince David’s soul. It wouldn’t do if they lost track of him for too long.
Ah, there he was. A good distance away. And still moving, seemingly.
Barnabas stood up through the fire, sweeping it away with a single stroke of his club.
Vito expected another front assault, but the other man took a moment to say something, instead.
“I hate hypocrites,” said Barnabas. He was scowling. Not looking at all like his previously laidback self.
Vito’s brow furrowed, and he tilted his head. “Excuse me?”
It soared over there like a burning missile and erupted into a blanketing inferno, catching multiple opponents on fire at once.
Good. That was-- Barnabas twisted suddenly and backhanded him across the face.
Vito staggered. And instinctively, he knew that the next, far more deadly blow would already be on the way. That meager attack could only have been meant to create an opening for a follow-up with that club.
So without thinking or even trying to regain his footing, Vito dropped to the ground just as the club swung horizontally over his head. Then he went for Barnabas’ right leg, wrapping himself around it like a snake and twisting in order to pull Barnabas down the ground along with him.
Normally, this was a move that could paralyze the opponent with pain, but that obviously wasn’t going to work on a servant. It was, however, still quite useful for shifting the momentum of the fight. By now, Vito knew only too well how dangerous it was to fight this guy up close, so he decided to scramble back up to his feet while still maintaining his grip on Barnabas’ leg. Then he mustered all his strength and swung the man around like a sack of concrete, sending him crashing into a wall. Wood, plaster, and insulation exploded out of the impact point, covering the area in dust and debris.
And then there was an opening in the fight. Vito considered using it dive through the debris and pummel Barnabas up close, but he decided not to risk it and throw a blanket of flames over the scene, instead.
This way, Kerikos could also reacquire the location of Prince David’s soul. It wouldn’t do if they lost track of him for too long.
Ah, there he was. A good distance away. And still moving, seemingly.
Barnabas stood up through the fire, sweeping it away with a single stroke of his club.
Vito expected another front assault, but the other man took a moment to say something, instead.
“I hate hypocrites,” said Barnabas. He was scowling. Not looking at all like his previously laidback self.
Vito’s brow furrowed, and he tilted his head. “Excuse me?”
Saturday, October 5, 2024
Page 3691
He resorted to spikes again. Targeting the back of Barnabas’ skull, in particular. It was right there, after all. Easy pickings.
And the spikes connected, too. Skewering the man’s entire body, including the head. Straight through.
Barnabas did not stop moving, however. He still managed to yank Vito free and fling him away.
And he didn’t let up there, either. He continued to give chase, swinging the club wildly again.
Vito was confused, but he didn’t have the time to sit there and deconstruct what in the world had just happened. He returned to dodging and had to rely on Kerikos’ extra thought process in order to reassess the situation.
He could see lutetium spikes all over Barnabas’ body. They did not stay long. They were being pushed out by the undead regeneration.
That was a clue. Normal regeneration typically had trouble removing large foreign bodies from one’s flesh.
But enhanced regeneration? Such as that of pan-forma? That would do the trick. And yet, that also made little sense here, because thus far, Barnabas had not been speaking with the telltale double-voice indicative of a hyperstate. So what was going on here?
Wait a moment.
Vito’s eyes never strayed from the wooden club, but now he was seeing it in a new light. Hmm.
“What’s the matter?” said Barnabas in the midst of his barrage. “You look confused.”
But this time, Vito did indeed hear the two voices speaking in unison.
Kerikos felt like he understood. Barnabas’ reaper had been concealed inside the soul-infused club this whole time, just waiting for the right moment to pop out and shift the tide of battle with a hyperstate.
“Neat trick,” said Vito.
“I don’t know what you mean,” said Barnabas.
“Hmph.”
This wasn’t good. Pan-forma gave flat bonuses to a servant’s durability, connectivity, and regeneration. Vito could still avoid these attacks, but for how much longer? The boost to connectivity could manifest in any number of surprising and unwelcome ways, depending on what Barnabas’ exact ability was. Most likely, it was some form of transfiguration, since materializers tended to lead with it.
Well, Vito had a trick of his own in mind. The castle guards were close enough now that he could try to enact his plan.
Rather than attacking Barnabas in order to create a much more comfortable opening, he’d just have to use the duplicate technique in order to distract and then throw out a quick attack at the guard’s opponents. It wouldn’t be much, but hopefully, it would still be enough for the guards to realize that he was indeed on their side.
So that was what he did.
And the spikes connected, too. Skewering the man’s entire body, including the head. Straight through.
Barnabas did not stop moving, however. He still managed to yank Vito free and fling him away.
And he didn’t let up there, either. He continued to give chase, swinging the club wildly again.
Vito was confused, but he didn’t have the time to sit there and deconstruct what in the world had just happened. He returned to dodging and had to rely on Kerikos’ extra thought process in order to reassess the situation.
He could see lutetium spikes all over Barnabas’ body. They did not stay long. They were being pushed out by the undead regeneration.
That was a clue. Normal regeneration typically had trouble removing large foreign bodies from one’s flesh.
But enhanced regeneration? Such as that of pan-forma? That would do the trick. And yet, that also made little sense here, because thus far, Barnabas had not been speaking with the telltale double-voice indicative of a hyperstate. So what was going on here?
Wait a moment.
Vito’s eyes never strayed from the wooden club, but now he was seeing it in a new light. Hmm.
“What’s the matter?” said Barnabas in the midst of his barrage. “You look confused.”
But this time, Vito did indeed hear the two voices speaking in unison.
Kerikos felt like he understood. Barnabas’ reaper had been concealed inside the soul-infused club this whole time, just waiting for the right moment to pop out and shift the tide of battle with a hyperstate.
“Neat trick,” said Vito.
“I don’t know what you mean,” said Barnabas.
“Hmph.”
This wasn’t good. Pan-forma gave flat bonuses to a servant’s durability, connectivity, and regeneration. Vito could still avoid these attacks, but for how much longer? The boost to connectivity could manifest in any number of surprising and unwelcome ways, depending on what Barnabas’ exact ability was. Most likely, it was some form of transfiguration, since materializers tended to lead with it.
Well, Vito had a trick of his own in mind. The castle guards were close enough now that he could try to enact his plan.
Rather than attacking Barnabas in order to create a much more comfortable opening, he’d just have to use the duplicate technique in order to distract and then throw out a quick attack at the guard’s opponents. It wouldn’t be much, but hopefully, it would still be enough for the guards to realize that he was indeed on their side.
So that was what he did.
Friday, October 4, 2024
Page 3690
But this also gave them an opportunity to steer the direction of the fight. Kerikos could sense potential allies in various directions. Vaguely familiar soul signatures. Moving with quickness and certitude. Castle guards, most likely.
They just had to make sure that those guards didn’t confuse them with the attackers. Even with reapers for observational support, friendly fire was still undoubtedly a threat in the midst of all this chaos.
And the best way for Vito to distinguish himself as an immediate ally was to spare an extra attack for the castle guards’ opponents.
Which would be quite difficult with Barnabas hounding him like this.
There was nothing for it. He’d have to take a risk, Vito decided. He needed to create enough of an opening for himself, first.
The same duplicate technique from before might do the trick. But yes, it would be a risk. If Barnabas wasn’t fooled by the decoys when Vito tried to use them for cover, then Vito might very well have to eat that club with his face.
So the answer was to be patient, first. Try the duplicates multiple times. See how Barnabas reacted to them before committing to anything else.
And that was what he did.
The lutetium reacted as he engulfed himself in a deep reddish flame once more. He sent out the three duplicates, spreading behind him as he moved.
Barnabas changed tactics on him. Instead of continuing to pummel the ground, the man gave a big, sweeping swing of his club and caught two of the three duplicates at once--and almost the real Vito as well, if he didn’t take an extra hop backward to avoid it in time.
Agh.
Barnabas didn’t let up, either, and the chase continued.
Vito tried again. Five duplicates this time, spreading out even farther. It was more taxing on Kerikos, but it worked. Barnabas swung wide, catching three copies instead of the real thing.
Vito seized the opening. He circled around to Barnabas’ back and grappled him under the club arm and around the neck. He twisted with all his strength, but the man’s head didn’t pop free like Vito intended. In fact, it hardly felt like Barnabas was under his control at all.
Barnabas’ free hand found Vito’s left shoulder and gripped it with such strength that the bones therein snapped instantly. And even from that awkward angle, when Barnabas yanked on the crushed shoulder, Vito felt that the man might actually succeed in pulling him off his back unless he did something.
They just had to make sure that those guards didn’t confuse them with the attackers. Even with reapers for observational support, friendly fire was still undoubtedly a threat in the midst of all this chaos.
And the best way for Vito to distinguish himself as an immediate ally was to spare an extra attack for the castle guards’ opponents.
Which would be quite difficult with Barnabas hounding him like this.
There was nothing for it. He’d have to take a risk, Vito decided. He needed to create enough of an opening for himself, first.
The same duplicate technique from before might do the trick. But yes, it would be a risk. If Barnabas wasn’t fooled by the decoys when Vito tried to use them for cover, then Vito might very well have to eat that club with his face.
So the answer was to be patient, first. Try the duplicates multiple times. See how Barnabas reacted to them before committing to anything else.
And that was what he did.
The lutetium reacted as he engulfed himself in a deep reddish flame once more. He sent out the three duplicates, spreading behind him as he moved.
Barnabas changed tactics on him. Instead of continuing to pummel the ground, the man gave a big, sweeping swing of his club and caught two of the three duplicates at once--and almost the real Vito as well, if he didn’t take an extra hop backward to avoid it in time.
Agh.
Barnabas didn’t let up, either, and the chase continued.
Vito tried again. Five duplicates this time, spreading out even farther. It was more taxing on Kerikos, but it worked. Barnabas swung wide, catching three copies instead of the real thing.
Vito seized the opening. He circled around to Barnabas’ back and grappled him under the club arm and around the neck. He twisted with all his strength, but the man’s head didn’t pop free like Vito intended. In fact, it hardly felt like Barnabas was under his control at all.
Barnabas’ free hand found Vito’s left shoulder and gripped it with such strength that the bones therein snapped instantly. And even from that awkward angle, when Barnabas yanked on the crushed shoulder, Vito felt that the man might actually succeed in pulling him off his back unless he did something.
Thursday, October 3, 2024
Page 3689
“No one interferes,” said Barnabas, looking briefly around. The other Abolishers seemed disappointed, but none argued.
Vito was about to say something else, but Barnabas didn’t give him time.
The man blitzed forward, wooden club cocked back for a big swing.
Vito reacted without thinking. He sacrificed both arms to a surge of molten lutetium as the rest of him dashed backward in a succession of quick hops.
Barnabas took the attack head on and didn’t stop. The club crashed down just in front of Vito--and kept crashing even as he moved. Barnabas followed him with continued, thunderous swings, leaving craters and kicking up debris with each of Vito’s hops.
And it soon became apparent to Vito that this was not going to stop. They were in a chase now, one spurred on by superhuman endurance. They were not going to get tired for hours, days, or even weeks, depending on how hard their reapers chose to push them.
The castle was taking more of a beating than Vito. In their wake, Barnabas’ great wooden club annihilated inconvenient walls and rendered the ground virtually impassable for normal people.
There were close calls, though. Vito could feel the rush of air from each swing, enough so that it was almost a distraction unto itself. He wanted to slide through a blow for a counterattack, but he knew that to be a deadly gamble, at best. Barnabas was able to swing that thing as if it weighed no more than a knife.
So Vito decided to just keep blasting him with fire, instead. The attacks weren’t doing much, but they weren’t doing nothing, either. He could see Barnabas’ smoldering, half-melted skin. It was obviously going to take a lot more than that in order to bring down a servant, but in a battle of attrition, Vito would eventually get there while these swings would not.
Still, this was not ideal. One slip up might just be the end. He didn’t know if he’d be able to survive even a single attack from that club. It seemed a peculiar choice of weapon, and Vito had a rather strong suspicion that there was more to it than met the eye.
He had to endure. To stay focused. On both Barnabas and their environment. Leaping continually backwards like this was no easy feat. Kerikos had to make sure the way behind them was clear. That they weren’t backing themselves into a corner.
Vito was about to say something else, but Barnabas didn’t give him time.
The man blitzed forward, wooden club cocked back for a big swing.
Vito reacted without thinking. He sacrificed both arms to a surge of molten lutetium as the rest of him dashed backward in a succession of quick hops.
Barnabas took the attack head on and didn’t stop. The club crashed down just in front of Vito--and kept crashing even as he moved. Barnabas followed him with continued, thunderous swings, leaving craters and kicking up debris with each of Vito’s hops.
And it soon became apparent to Vito that this was not going to stop. They were in a chase now, one spurred on by superhuman endurance. They were not going to get tired for hours, days, or even weeks, depending on how hard their reapers chose to push them.
The castle was taking more of a beating than Vito. In their wake, Barnabas’ great wooden club annihilated inconvenient walls and rendered the ground virtually impassable for normal people.
There were close calls, though. Vito could feel the rush of air from each swing, enough so that it was almost a distraction unto itself. He wanted to slide through a blow for a counterattack, but he knew that to be a deadly gamble, at best. Barnabas was able to swing that thing as if it weighed no more than a knife.
So Vito decided to just keep blasting him with fire, instead. The attacks weren’t doing much, but they weren’t doing nothing, either. He could see Barnabas’ smoldering, half-melted skin. It was obviously going to take a lot more than that in order to bring down a servant, but in a battle of attrition, Vito would eventually get there while these swings would not.
Still, this was not ideal. One slip up might just be the end. He didn’t know if he’d be able to survive even a single attack from that club. It seemed a peculiar choice of weapon, and Vito had a rather strong suspicion that there was more to it than met the eye.
He had to endure. To stay focused. On both Barnabas and their environment. Leaping continually backwards like this was no easy feat. Kerikos had to make sure the way behind them was clear. That they weren’t backing themselves into a corner.
Wednesday, October 2, 2024
Page 3688
Kerikos’ senses were telling Vito that Prince David and the other non-combatants had all made it through the hole and were running together. That was a relief, but he also had to be concerned about other enemies scattered throughout the castle. The reaper could sense so much chaos around Livingston, right now. It was difficult to parse through it all, but for the moment, their escape path seemed clear.
If they ran into trouble, would he be able to reach them in time? His hands were quite full here, but even if they weren’t, the growing distance might become an issue.
It was time to go for that previous strategy he’d thought of. He needed to steer this fight toward potential allies.
“Why so quiet all of a sudden?” said Barnabas. “I was enjoying our conversation!”
“As was I,” said Vito. “Apologies. Might you be willing to tell me what your goal here is?”
“Goal?” said Barnabas with another mild laugh. “Don’t know, don’t care. You’d have to ask the bigwigs about that.”
Kerikos had to wonder if that was the truth. Clearly, this fellow had enough authority to make all these other Abolishers listen to him, so it seemed unlikely Barnabas here would be that uninformed about whatever this current operation was.
Playing dumb, perhaps?
“I’ll tell you my name if you tell me your motive,” tried Vito.
Barnabas’ brow twitched. “You hard of hearing, friend? Can’t tell you what I don’t know.”
Hmm. “Then maybe you could tell me who is leading this attack, instead.”
“Now why would I tell you that?”
“Because you like me?”
“Heh. Not that much.”
“Shame. What if I tell you my name in exchange?”
“You were so protective of that before, but now you want to use it as a bargaining chip? Not just tough, but wily, too, eh? Somethin’ tells you’re trying to take advantage of my amicable nature, right now. Probably feed me some bullshit alias, instead, hmm?”
“Same could be said about you,” said Vito. “You wouldn’t lie about your leader’s name?”
“Of course not. I’m an honorable fellow, as you yourself have already pointed out.”
“True. But if you’re really so honorable, then you should trust me to be honorable in return.”
“Aha. Unfortunately for you, I’ve made that mistake before and learned my lesson. It’s a fine line between honorability and gullibility.”
“Don’t be like that,” said Vito. “If we can’t trust each other’s word, then what are we even doing, right now?”
Barnabas rolled his shoulders. “Good question.”
Aw, shit.
If they ran into trouble, would he be able to reach them in time? His hands were quite full here, but even if they weren’t, the growing distance might become an issue.
It was time to go for that previous strategy he’d thought of. He needed to steer this fight toward potential allies.
“Why so quiet all of a sudden?” said Barnabas. “I was enjoying our conversation!”
“As was I,” said Vito. “Apologies. Might you be willing to tell me what your goal here is?”
“Goal?” said Barnabas with another mild laugh. “Don’t know, don’t care. You’d have to ask the bigwigs about that.”
Kerikos had to wonder if that was the truth. Clearly, this fellow had enough authority to make all these other Abolishers listen to him, so it seemed unlikely Barnabas here would be that uninformed about whatever this current operation was.
Playing dumb, perhaps?
“I’ll tell you my name if you tell me your motive,” tried Vito.
Barnabas’ brow twitched. “You hard of hearing, friend? Can’t tell you what I don’t know.”
Hmm. “Then maybe you could tell me who is leading this attack, instead.”
“Now why would I tell you that?”
“Because you like me?”
“Heh. Not that much.”
“Shame. What if I tell you my name in exchange?”
“You were so protective of that before, but now you want to use it as a bargaining chip? Not just tough, but wily, too, eh? Somethin’ tells you’re trying to take advantage of my amicable nature, right now. Probably feed me some bullshit alias, instead, hmm?”
“Same could be said about you,” said Vito. “You wouldn’t lie about your leader’s name?”
“Of course not. I’m an honorable fellow, as you yourself have already pointed out.”
“True. But if you’re really so honorable, then you should trust me to be honorable in return.”
“Aha. Unfortunately for you, I’ve made that mistake before and learned my lesson. It’s a fine line between honorability and gullibility.”
“Don’t be like that,” said Vito. “If we can’t trust each other’s word, then what are we even doing, right now?”
Barnabas rolled his shoulders. “Good question.”
Aw, shit.
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