Book 7: Chapter 1 |
“WELL, HELLO THERE,” the darkness greeted me in a mocking male voice. It was a very familiar voice...
“The Abyss!” I swore bitterly to myself.
If I’m hearing this voice, I thought, does that mean I’m already dead? When did that happen? I remember climbing down the cliff after the battle with Sister Fria, and I was not only still alive but actually walking on my own two feet. Sure, it hurt. Sure, I was barely able to put one foot in front of the other. Sure, my insides felt like a miniature sun had burst into being inside them... But I know I was alive, and somehow I was managing to continue on my way. But then... What happened after that? I don’t remember anything...
Did that mean it was death after all? Son of a...! I was so close. And everything was just starting to fall into place... Which actually made dying feel even worse.
Just like the last time, the voice from the darkness seemed to be reading my thoughts, and with a loud laugh it began to speak:
“No, you’re not dead. Yet...”
“Yet?” I repeated instinctively as I tried frantically to think of what this voice could possibly want with me. After all, unless I was remembering things wrong, it had promised at our last meeting that we would never meet again.
“I just felt like talking to you,” the voice answered my unspoken question. “As you’ll remember, my work is a little bit boring. I have to entertain myself somehow.”
“And how are you liking the show?”
“Actually, now that you mention it... What do you mean by “Cycle?”“
“That’s the only thing you want to ask right now?” The voice snickered.
“No, but...”
“Mortals,” the voice interrupted me with a reproachful click of its tongue. “You’re all so predictable...”
“You said that I seemed like I was in a hurry to die...”
“Indeed,” he replied, and then asked: “Doesn’t it seem like that to you?”
“No,” I said (quite honestly, actually). Then, deliberately echoing the voice’s manner, I asked: “What parts of the story aren’t to your liking? After all, it was you who put me into this idiot’s body.”
The darkness fell silent for a little while. I was starting to think that my path on this much-vaunted Cycle was at an end, but then the voice spoke up once more.
“When a young fox breaks into a henhouse,” he began in a condescending tone of voice, “it tries to kill as many chickens as it possibly can. And it doesn’t think about the noise the terrified birds are making — noise which will undoubtedly cause an armed human and vicious dogs to come running. The young beast is totally in the grip of its own hunter’s instincts, and it just keeps slaughtering chickens, losing invaluable time and also forgetting something very important — namely, the fact that even if it somehow manages to escape the humans and his hounds, it still won’t be able to drag off all the dead chickens.”
I didn’t say anything. I just waited in silence for the continuation. And it wasn’t long in coming.
“You won’t fully understand what I’m talking about yet, but believe me — as soon as you wake up, you’ll have cause to remember my words. As for me... Heh... Nothing has changed — all I care about is that you entertain me for as long as possible. And you’re doing a good job so far. Which is exactly why I decided to intervene again and give you a little hint... How you use that hint, of course, is entirely up to you.”
The voice fell silent, and then the darkness abruptly retreated around me. The word suddenly warped, and I felt myself falling. A chaotic whirlwind of images erupted all around me, in which I caught the occasional glimpse of houses and other buildings — brick and stone walls, windows, balconies.
My heart started pounding until it felt like it might burst out of my chest. A cold, vicious wind wrapped its slithering tentacles around my body.
Dammit, I thought — what the hell is going on?! Where am I?
Through the maelstrom of sudden, overpowering emotions, I occasionally felt a very strange sense of normalcy. As if this kind of mind-warping event was just part of a normal day for me.
Suddenly, however, I caught sight of a huge expanse of pavement approaching me at terrifying speed. With only a few yards to spare, I whipped my tail around to correct my posture and landed lightly on all four of my paws.
Tail? Paws? What the hell was happening?!
But what followed was simply unbelievable: a sudden splash rippled through my memory, and a series of recollections abruptly sliced through the curtain of bewilderment that had been draped across my mind. I suddenly realized that all these images were from childhood — a childhood that was somehow my own and someone else’s at the same time. The sensations, thoughts, and emotions weren’t from my current life; they were from a different reality, in which I had been a werefox, a magical creature that was part human and part fox, with bright red fur and sharp fangs and claws.
And I suddenly remembered my short life in that strange, brutal world. At the time of the recollections in question, I was only twelve springs old. I was living with my family in a small town on the border of the Yellow Steppe.
The memories were crystal-clear, but I had no ability to influence the course of events, so I just watched them play out, a casual observer of the last few minutes of my short life in that world.
My native village came under attack by a horde of undead — humanoid monsters from the Cursed Lands. The enemy had already breached the walls and was busy spreading horror and death inside the city. The shrieks of the dying and the howls of the bloodthirsty undead rent the air all around me.
My heart wasn’t filled so much with fear as with a sense of grim decisiveness — I had to get back to my home. I had to protect my mom and little sister, whatever the cost!
So I hurried down through the streets I knew so well, although they felt totally foreign that day. Chaos, corpses, blood, destruction — the scene around me motivated me to move faster and faster. A single thought was pounding in my brain: “Just make it back in time! Make it back in time!”
As I wound through the labyrinthine streets and alleys, the observer version of me already knew what was going to happen: the young werefox was hurrying desperately home to help his family, but he wasn’t going to make it in time. The undead would beat him to it.
And of course, that’s exactly what happened. I saw the young werefox break into the courtyard of his house to find that several of the cursed beasts were already masters of the house.
With a furious snarl, he threw himself at his nearest opponent, generating some sort of magical technique on his palms as he did so. My old memories hinted that this was a fighting web technique from the Chaos School, which I belonged to in that life; as a detached observer, moreover, I could tell that the little werefox’s performance was pretty flawed and rushed. On its own, the technique probably wouldn’t have hurt the undead, but the young werefox was under so much stress that he poured far too much mana into the attack. He thereby damaged his own magical source, but on the other hand, the attack achieved the desired result.
A bright purple magical net shot out like a small spider web, and in the blink of an eye it wrapped itself around the zombie’s head and began to squeeze. With a revolting wet crunch, it crushed the beast’s skull like an underripe melon and sprayed the zombie’s brain all over the place.
The other two undead reacted immediately. With unintelligible croaks, they turned, scraping their long, curved claws against the tiled stone floor, and lunged at the werefox from different sides.
He was already forming another net in his right hand, and he managed to jump out of the way of the first zombie’s blow and duck the second one’s claws, allowing them to whistle harmlessly through the air above him. It all seemed easy for him, almost as though he were playing. His red tail with its coal-black tip bounced around in the air behind him, helping his body keep its balance and retain the initiative.
His second net finally formed, and he threw it at the second zombie’s neck — a dark-purple mass of energy in the shape of a spindle. With a quiet “pop,” the monster’s head flew off to the side, and its body plopped loudly into the rock garden in the courtyard, pouring thick waves of dark-green liquid all over the gray sand that still bore the marks of the garden master’s meditative raking.
The second web was just as overcharged with mana as the first, and it drained the little werefox’s reservoir by more than half. Besides that, the rough, immoderate pulses of energy were doing serious damage to the insufficiently-strengthened walls of his core, energy channels, and energy nodes. The werefox was too young, and totally unprepared for such a strain, but he didn’t care at that point. Berserker’s fury had totally consumed his mind.
I could remember the feeling... The only thing I wanted was to tear the beasts apart and annihilate them... And I couldn’t have cared less about my master’s warnings.
The werefox summoned a “Chaos Scythe” and cut the last zombie almost in half. It all happened so fast that the monster didn’t even have time to react. True, the last attack used up almost all of the little werefox’s remaining mana.
Breathing heavily and staggering, the little boy slowly looked around at the scene he had just created, then turned to walk into his house. He had already taken one step forward, but suddenly he froze. The vile head of another monster appeared from inside the doorway. It was a lot smaller than the other undead. It had fragile bones, gray skin, and a gaunt, skeletal body. It also had long claws on its paws and a wide mouth filled with triangular black teeth. Two big, pale, fish-like eyes stared unblinkingly back at the boy. The monster’s flat head was cocked ever so slightly to the side.
It was a Necromorph... One of the most dangerous beasts in all the Cursed Lands. The first three undead were just a pale shadow of a threat compared to this beast.
With a heavy sigh, the werefox raised his hands into the air. As they trembled with overexertion, he summoned the last bit of energy from his reservoir. Even though he knew it was pointless.
My last memory from that life was the image of me and the beast rushing to attack each other, practically at the same instant. After that, the familiar, timeless darkness engulfed me once again...
* * *
The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the fabric of my tent’s ceiling. It was waving limply in the wind, and the dim light that was shining through it provided a sort of soft, cozy illumination inside the tent. The smell of smoke and food filled the air. From what I could tell, it seemed to be late morning. So, I thought — I’ve only been unconscious for a few hours?
I quickly looked around. Yes — this is my tent. I’m in my own bed. But why am I here, instead of in a room in the Citadel? I soon concluded that Sigurd was probably just taking an extra precaution (I knew for a fact that it was he who brought me back to the tent).
When I tried to stand up, a searing wave of pain surged out across my body. It was so unexpected that I couldn’t help gritting my teeth and let out a quiet groan. Things were going dark; my head started spinning; my heart started pounding like a wild bird in a cage. Cold sweat broke out across my body.
“God dammit!” I growled through my teeth as I willed myself to stay conscious (that’s the only explanation I have for it). “What the...”
Another wave of pain burned through my body. After a few deep breaths in and out, I finally thought to switch to true vision and look down at my energy system.
Agh, I thought... I wish I hadn’t seen that...
“What the hell?!” I moaned as soon as I realized what I was seeing.
While I was unconscious, the golden energy had started to make itself at home in my energy system and reconfigure it to suit its own needs. Everything that I had worked so hard to create over the last year was gone, either significantly changed or destroyed entirely. Like some gluttonous parasite, the auring magic had worked its way into my system and found a new food source. Sure, I knew there would be a transformation, but I never expected it to be like this...
All my energy channels and nodes, which I had so painstakingly enlarged and strengthened to suit my needs and skills... Well, they all looked completely different. And that meant that I would not only have to repeat the entire process, but also learn to use my energy body all over again. It was almost like a second birth... But with an entirely new energy system.
That said, there were some pluses to the situation too. Yes, my reservoir had lost its protective barrier, but on the other hand, it was about 10% bigger. And despite the fact that it was still practically empty, the energy generation speed was much faster. True, this energy was generated at the expense of life energy from my physical body. That explained the horrible pain... If I had awoken a few days later, there wouldn’t have been much left of me but skin and bones.
I knew this required a solution urgently...
A noise outside my tent suddenly distracted me from contemplating my internal world.
I switched back to normal vision and turned my head. Lada was standing on the threshold, with my fairies next to her. None of them seemed willing to take the first step.
I didn’t understand. Were they afraid of me?
“You’re up?” Lada asked.
The witch tried to make her voice sound the way it usually did — independent and haughty — but I could hear that it was shaking.
“Yes,” I said as calmly as possible, before asking: “How long was I out for?”
“Days,” replied Lada, still standing at the entrance to the tent. The fairies didn’t move either. They were all watching my every movement carefully.
Dammit, I thought — what were they staring at?
“What happened?” I asked.
“Sigurd brought you in yesterday morning,” said Lada. “That’s all I know.”
“Why am I here, and not in the Citadel?” I asked my next question.
“You can’t go in there right now,” she said; then her expression changed, and she shot me a strange glance.
“What’s happening?” I asked. I was losing my patience. I didn’t dare try to stand up again. I was afraid that another wave would hit me, and that would knock me out for sure.
“That’s what we wanted to ask you,” said Lada. The fairies all nodded in unison.
“Can you please just tell me what’s wrong?” I frowned. “And why are you standing all the way over there? Come over here.”
“We’re fine here,” Lada replied. The fairies obviously felt the same. “And we’re all doing fine, actually. It’s something with YOU that’s wrong.”
“Go on,” I said. It was taking all the patience I had to avoid shouting at her.
And this made me wonder — where was all this rage and impatience coming from? I mean, I wasn’t perfect, but I was certainly good at concealing emotions and feelings whenever necessary. At the moment, though, I just felt like I wanted to jump out of bed and shake the truth out of Lada. Maybe it was just a side effect of my vision? Maybe the werefox’s battle rage was still smoldering inside me? Hm... Possibly.
“Your aura, Master,” said the lunari quietly. I could see worry in her eyes. She could sense my condition.
“What?”
“We can all see it,” said Selina.
“That’s for sure,” Lada nodded. “And if we get too close to you, we can feel it as well. And let me tell you, it’s not the best feeling in the world.”
I examined all their faces intently; then, raising my head a little, I glanced down at my body.
The Abyss! My aura had not only acquired a golden hue — it was also visible with the naked eye. There was barely-visible, shimmering mist emanating from me, as if I were a big sculpture made of dry ice. I could also see that it was devouring the latent energy suspended in the air.
“Bruts turn to dust within a few minutes if we put them near you,” said Lada. “And our reservoirs drain really quickly too. Sigurd lost all his crystals while he was dragging you back here. You’ve got to do something about this.”
I leaned back on my pillow and closed my eyes. I didn’t even get to wake up properly, and I was already physically exhausted, like I’d just run a couple dozen miles.
“Who else knows about what’s happening?” I asked without opening my eyes.
“Four of us: Sigurd, Aelira, and Gunnar,” said Ignia. “Nobody else knows a thing.”
“Nobody’s said anything so far,” said Lada. “But unless you show yourself in the camp tomorrow — preferably fresh as a daisy with lots of energy — they’re going to start asking questions. And the people who arrived yesterday aren’t exactly patient.”
I turned my head and asked:
“That cavalcade under Prince Philippe and the Dukes’ banners?”
“Yep,” Lada nodded. “The Marquis de Gondy has come to see you a few times already. He’s demanding your presence at a council of war this evening.”
So, I thought... They sent the Duke de Gondy’s son here. Blanca’s brother.
“Demanding?” I snickered, feeling a fire of irritation roar up inside me again.
What the hell is happening to me?
“Yes,” Lada confirmed. “The Marquis acts like he just took all the fortresses in the country by storm. He’s very insistent and stubborn. He’s demanding that we march off against the Golden Lion right away. He says it’s His Highness Prince Philippe’s order.”
She was about to say something else, but a clamor of voices suddenly erupted outside the tent, and within a few seconds Gunnar’s head popped through the tent flap.
“Your Lordship!” He said with a loud gulp, clearly overjoyed as he quickly looked me up and down. “Thank the gods you’re awake!”
I nodded, then asked:
“What’s all the noise?”
“A messenger from the Marquis de Gondy. His Lordship... uh... He, uh... He’s ordering you to appear at the council of war this evening.”
“Ordering?” My eyes narrowed. The irritation that I had been so carefully restraining the whole time finally burst to the surface.
And judging by the way everybody in the tent took a step back, my expression must have been frightful to behold.
“Have the Marquis de Gondy’s messenger inform his master that I’ll be busy until tomorrow,” I said icily. “And also, please remind him that the Margrave de Valier takes orders only from his King. Now go...”
Gunnar’s head disappeared, and I felt another burning wave course through my body. I didn’t have the strength to fight the pain this time. I closed my eyes and sank into blissful darkness.