Slave Pits of the Tyrannical God (Path of Transcendence Book 2) (35 page)

BOOK: Slave Pits of the Tyrannical God (Path of Transcendence Book 2)
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I point at Keratin. “That piece of shit was Aluras'bektsh'tar's spy in the stable, and now, he is a toy for Mungo and his faggots to play with.”

Mungo is staring at me, filled with hate, anger, and resentment. He is clearly aware of my contempt for him and his collection of faggots, but he knows that I can kill all of them at the same time, with or without weapons.

The Throd'nahk walks over and stops about ten feet from me. His erect posture and the arrogant tilt to his head is purely confrontational. In contrast, when he speaks, his tone of voice is flat and emotionless. “How do you know this? You are nothing but a slave, just like the rest of us.”

I run my fingers over my collarless neck. “I'm no fucking slave. You may be one, but I'm not. I'm the Smith's disciple. Anytime I want, I can leave this place. There is not a single DokkAlfar in Gor'achen Citadel that can stop me.

“Aluras'bektsh'tar wanted me to become her assassin, and I made two kills for her. The second was my last, but it was also a setup by her. She wanted to capture me, after I made the kill. I turned the tables and captured a couple of the company leaders from her legion. One of the sluts talked. She spilled what she knew, before I killed her. Mungo's new bitch talked too.”

The Throd'nahk is filled with burning anger and another complex emotion that I do not really understand. It is at least partly lust, but I do not know what the rest of it is. He glances around the room, weighing the attitudes of the gladiator's and guards, before staring at me.

“What are you planning to do?”

The Throd'nahk's question catches me off guard. My eyes widen slightly in surprise. I have been running on pure emotion, since interrogating that DokkAlfar bitch. The little head is the one that has been doing all of what passes for my thinking. What the fuck am I going to do?

I have an agreement with Elan'fer'sha, but if she has become Aluras'bektsh'tar's prisoner, there is nothing in that agreement that is forcing me to do anything. Elan is nothing but another DokkAlfar bitch that looks at me as an animal, but she is a DokkAlfar bitch that I have been fucking on a daily basis. Maybe, it is time to make her my woman. It would piss her off to be called my woman. It would put her, a DokkAlfar female, on the same level as a human female, nothing but a woman.

My grin is fierce and brutal, a challenge and a warning to anyone that sees it. “I'm going to take my woman back from that fucking dyke, and anyone that gets in my way will die.”

I am still thinking with my dick, but maybe, that is not always a bad thing.

There is total silence, as I leave the mess hall. In most of the gladiators and guards, their anger, hate, and fear have been replaced with shock and surprise. A few of them even have a bit of twisted admiration mixed in with the surprise.

Window and Door
*** Gor'achen Citadel - Battleground of the Damned ***
Return: Day 289 – Day 290

 

In Thrall's ritual room, the stand in the middle of the room still supports a frame made of silvery metal, like the frame of a long oval mirror.

I have not slept much, but I rested a bit. Anger and frustration kept gnawing at me. I would not say that life has been good, since coming to Gor'achen, but it is certainly better than living on a shithole like Earth. Because I was enjoying learning from Thrall, fighting in the arena, and fucking Elan'fer'sha, I was getting complacent. I let that cunt Aluras
'bektsh'tar take something from me, and I may not be able to take it back.

Steel is cruelty. Steel is pain.

I cast the pattern sight spell on both of my eyes. The pattern of the frame is like nothing I have seen before. There are parts of it that remind of the party charms, but they are just small fragments of the whole. Its complexity is on par with a living being. While I may be wrong, there seems to be strong elements of psi and traces of ki in this pattern. When Thrall used the frame, I thought he was using a mana based spell, but now, I know that I was wrong. He would have been using Trinity, when he communicated with Boran. This pattern was made to be used by Trinity, not a partial aspect of Trinity like mana.

Thrall is still missing, so how do I activate this pattern? Ha! If Thrall was here, I would not need to activate the pattern.

Even though the pattern has all the aspects of the Trinity in it, I can only find a single contact point. Would it work, if I used all three Powers, mana, psi, and ki, at once? It is at least worth a try, if nothing else.

Body, mind, and soul, I need to use all three at the same time. That is easier said than done. My awareness and consciousness are no longer restricted to my mind. With the strengthening of my ki and the awakening of my psi, they have expanded into my body and soul, but I have never consciously used all three for a single purpose. Keeping my ki flowing through my body, mind, and soul has become an autonomic action, the same as breathing. My spatial awareness and is passive, like my other senses. I can focus on it, but I do not do that unless I am searching for something hidden or obscure. Even my empathy is something that is always on, and when actively probing, I am focusing on it exclusively. Whenever I used more than one, it was always done in sequence, while simply maintaining the previous Power. Now, I need to actively project all three types of Power at the same time for the same purpose.

All three of the aspect of the Trinity exist within me, but so far I can only circulate ki through my body, mind, and soul without constantly focusing on it. Since circulating my ki became natural, I have stopped mediating. I derive more benefit from using my Power. I am more naturally a fucking things up that contemplating my navel personality, but meditation may have its purpose too.

Sitting in a lotus position, I turn my focus inward, observing the three Powers within myself. My ki is constantly flowing through me. Even if it is not the raging torrent that I use to enhance myself in combat, it is always flowing like a calm brook. However, my mana and psi are pooled in my body and mind. If I do not actively channel them, they are nothing more than untapped reservoirs. Only small amounts are circulated, as they are dragged along with my ki.

Up to now, I have only circulated my mana a handful of times and have never done so with psi. Drawing out thread of mana and psi, I start circulating them throughout my body, mind, and soul, using the same paths as my ki is following. In the body, the flow of Powers follows the circulatory and nervous systems, and in the mind and soul, they flow through pathways that are analogous to the physical ones.

In a manner I never expected, the threads of the three Powers are being drawn to each and weaving together like a braid. The combined energies of the three Powers is healing the remaining damage from overexerting myself while carrying my DokkAlfar prisoner. As I watch the braid of Power moving through my body, mind, and soul, I have the strangest illusion that I am looking a triple helix.

I do not know how much time has passed, but I feel completely restored. There is not a single sign of self-inflicted damage remaining. I feel stronger and tougher than ever before.

I have used mana to activate Items of Power. Even if I have never threaded ki or psi in that way, there is a first time for everything. Manipulating the braided Powers, I create a thread of Power in the same manner as I channeled Power into the doors to Thrall's no longer so secret tunnels. At first it feels clunky, and my manipulation of the Power is clumsy.

I only saw Thrall activate this frame once. Though, I can barely remember the spell pattern he used, I do my best to duplicate it and tie it to the thread point. This not a thread point meant for soul binding the frame, but rather to connect the spell pattern. The frame is best described as a spell formation with a mutable use or multiple uses. The spell fails to trigger the frame, but I get a better understanding of the frames function.

Ten times. Twenty times. Fifty times. I weave the spell again and again. Each time I cast it on the formation's thread point, I learn more. When Thrall used the frame to contact Boran, I think I assumed it was a communication device, but it is not. While Thrall used it like a videophone, I think it is closer to an espionage device. I keep casting variations on the spell pattern I am trying to use and using places that I have already seen within Gor'achen Citadel as the focal point. I still have not figured out the trick to focus on a specific being. There might not be a way to do so, but I think my knowledge is just too limited.

Sitting down again, I meditate on the frame's pattern, while my reservoirs of Power refill. While meditation does not help me much to build my Power, it seems it is useful for evaluating information and understanding abstract concepts. Everything has its purpose.

The frame has the ability to view images across dimensional boundaries, and I do not think that its ranges is limited to the Labyrinth of Yggr. It all comes down to a question of Power. The greater the distance in terms of dimensions you are trying to see across, the more Power you will need to activate it. More importantly, you have to know what you are trying to observe. Being familiar with one or more patterns in the target zone is the best, but even without being familiar with any patterns having a good mental image of the target zone will still work.

My constant failing is a lack of knowledge, and that is not a weakness that can be overcome in a matter of days. It will years, decades, or centuries, before I can begin to overcome that obstacle.

It has been over three years since the last time I was in Mountain View, three years since I last saw the cavern with the statues, but my memory of them is still crystal clear. With all my Power refreshed, I begin to weave another spell pattern. I keep the image of that cavern and the statues clear in my mind, as I create the spell and connect it to the frame's thread point.

The frame starts sucking in my Power like a black hole. I cannot stop or even slow down the flow. I cannot break my link to the spell pattern and the frame. All of my Power is drawn out of me in a few seconds. Just hanging onto consciousness is struggle, but if I pass out, I think I will really die.

“AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRR!”

An agonized scream is ripped out of me, as a torrent of Od pours through me. The volume of Power is too much, and it feels like my body, mind, and soul are being destroyed. Time becomes nebulous, and I do not know how long the pain drags on.

In the frame, an image appears. There is a canvas on an easel, with the partially completed picture of a girl in a red Chinese style dress. Sitting in front of the easel, with her back to me, is a woman with hair so long that is pooling on the floor behind her. That hair is a black so dark that it has bluish highlights where the sunlight touches it. The woman, no, teenage girl, looks over he shoulder, with a faint hint of surprise on her face, and blackness consumes me.

Something soft is touching my forehead, as I start into wakefulness. Opening my eyes, I see the girl with the black hair, dressed in a blue-green kimono, kneeling on the floor next to me. Her small, soft hand is resting on my forehead, and a slight smile is on her lips.

*That was a dangerous thing to do. You're far too weak to be using the Od, especially in such large quantities.*
Her soft and slightly husky voice sounds inside my mind.

I stare at the face that matches the statue in Boran's cavern. In person, her beauty is almost overwhelming. Human beings were not meant to embody such perfection.

The girl's smile broadens.
*I'm not human, at least not anymore. Even though you have been chosen by the Od, I am surprised Boran showed you the statues. He is usually such a secretive old Dvergar.*

“Who . . . what are you?”

*Boran already told you, I'm LIFE, but you could more accurately say I'm CREATION.*

“Aaarrrgh!” The way she forms the words Life and Creation drives knives though my skull. The meaning and intent in those two words is not something I am not equipped to handle. It is similar to the way Boran said them, back when I first met him, only more intense.

A tiny trickle of energy flows from Life's hand into me, and the pain disappears. That Power reminds me of the Od, or maybe the Od reminds me of that Power, a mere shadow of it, would be a better way to put it.

Life smiles fondly.
*You're more HIS child than mine, but I still love you. This metaverse is harsh, and danger lies everywhere. If you are not destroyed in your climb to Power, there will come a day when you will be able to use the Od as naturally as you draw breath. That is when you must make your choice. Until you are strong enough, you need to be careful. In small amounts, you can survive the touch of the Od, but if I was not the terminus of your seeking, you would have died from drawing so heavily on the Od.*

Life strokes my scarred cheek for a moment, a sad frown on her lips.
*You're enemy is cruel to do this to a child, but the pain is not as great as you believe. You have no concept of real pain. Do not let this shape and dominate you. When you meet your enemy, destroy him and move past him.*

Life glances the frame, with the image of the room with painting.
*That is a bit too powerful for you to be experimenting with so casually.*

For a moment, it feels like my mind is going to explode, as the knowledge of the frame's pattern, usage, and purpose fills my mind. To say that its scope is mind blowing would be an understatement. I barely hold back a shiver. I am lucky I did not eradicated myself with the way I was toying around with it.

Life rises to her feet, her face appearing mischievous.
*It's okay to think with your dick. Men and women are meant to love another. Just because she is an Alfar female does not mean she is not a woman. Love and sex bind men and women together and keeps the cycle of Life to Death and back to Life flowing forever. I know this is truth, since I made it that way. Give dear old Boran my love.*

Life seems to stretch out, like the scenes of spaceships accelerating to light speed in a video, and appears back inside the image. She is looking at me with a sad smile, as the image disappears.

I rise shakily to my feet. Physically, I am fine, but the impact of Life's presence has left me shaken to my core. Woden, who calls himself a God, is not even a fart in a hurricane compared with her. After, being in the same room with her, the world around me feels pale and ephemeral. She seemed to see and know everything about me, but strangely, knowing that she knew about all my darkest secrets and shames does not make uncomfortable.

She went at her own pace, never giving me the chance to ask any of my questions. Why would she call me her child? Could it be because of the Od? Is it because she really is Life, and sees everyone as her children? When she said HIS, who did she refer to? Who is my enemy? What choice do I have to make?

With the knowledge given me by Life, Thrall's frame is considerably more intimidating than it was only minutes ago. It is both a window and a door that can reach almost any place not warded in certain manners, and even when a place is warded, it can even break many of those wards, if you give it enough Power. The key is Power, and I have only a fraction of what is necessary to make proper use of it. I probably have enough Power to contact Boran with it, but that assumes I do not make another idiotic mistake like I just did.

Despite being completely drained of Power by the spell, I am brimming with Power now. It must have been Life's handiwork, but other than being chosen by the Od, I have no idea why she would save me and restore my Power.

There is no time like the present to test the knowledge that she passed on to me. Based on what I now know, I should be safe contacting Boran. Even though Mountain View is in a different region of the Labyrinth of Yggr, it should be safely within my Power limits. Trying to contact Thrall is a different matter. Without knowing where he is, I could overextend myself, and die from Power depletion or drawing on the Od.

The spell pattern I weave this time is different from the previous ones, and as it connects to the thread point in the frame, I feel a heavy drain on my Power. A silver shimmer in the interior of the frame coalesces into an image of Boran.

For a moment, Boran stares at me, before nodding to himself. “You have figured out how to use Thrall's mirror.”

BOOK: Slave Pits of the Tyrannical God (Path of Transcendence Book 2)
9.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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