Author note: I've been reading the comments and my previous ten or so chapters. For the final version I'll be combining the parts instead of switching back and forth between the time dilation areas. It's a bit to complex and to hard to edit properly. Won't be anytime soon, but just wanted to led you all know.
“I searched for this place for eons, and now this?” Jieldenis roared, a rare show of emotion for someone who nearly always kept herself calm.
Mozarath just stood behind her, saying nothing. He could understand her anger at time dilation fading, but to him, it was the best news he could have gotten.
Well, besides more Sjaidin unchaining, he thought.
“Fine,” Jieldenis said, her voice back to her regular calm, though it barely mattered now. Two unmoving shapes lay on the ground before her, thick blood slowly pooling below them and likely staining the pearly white floor.
“Clean those up before they leave permanent memories of their existence,” Jieldenis snapped.
Mozarath walked forward immediately, keeping his eyes on the two chained. Their lizard-like bodies had been tall and slender, something that happened a lot after the Girdaim took them for hosts. Girdaim… he disliked the beings by principle and wondered why the others had chosen to use them in increasing numbers over the last few millennia.
Disgusting Soulsuckers, he thought calmly as he looked at the one who lay on its back. The purple crystal embedded in its chest was slightly off-center, and to his surprise, the eyelids were flickering.
The parasite managed to survive? Impressive, he thought as he grabbed both bodies by the neck and raised them off the floor. His sensitive fingers told him there was no life left in either of the bodies, which made it even more surprising to him that the Girdaim still lived.
He let his curiosity bleed away, as focusing on it might cause him to break character. Instead, he walked away, holding the bodies out and away from himself, knowing what was coming. He kept his growing amusement from his face as he walked towards the door.
Three, two, one-
“No, you fool! You will drip across the entire room like that! Hold them in your arms so the blood doesn’t spread,” Jieldenis snapped, showing that her anger at the information the two had brought her had still not really faded.
Mozarath acted quickly, making sure not to show any emotion, as he hugged the two bodies close.
“Please… live…”
He was actually slightly surprised by the voice of the Girdaim. He knew very little about them, as doing any research while keeping up his fake persona had proven impossible. What he did know was that they were also called The Faithful and held a misguided belief that Yilda had been a goddess. For some reason, they had got it into their minds that their failed experiment was the one that had freed the first of their species and had given them a mission. From what he recalled of Yilda, he very much doubted this was the case, and nobody even knew what this mission even was. Apparently, they were currently searching for someone who did… which was a sort of circular logic that showed just how mindless they were.
He walked out of Jieldenis’s throneroom, feeling the Girdaim try to reach out to him.
“Please… I can help you… Sense… your need… Soul.. remnants!”
Mozarath needed all of what he’d learned over the eons to remain calm, continuing to walk forward.
Could this thing read his mind? No, that was highly unlikely. More likely, it was somehow sensitive to the shattered nature of his being. It was something nearly impossible to perceive, but he couldn’t dismiss the possibility that it could sense something. A parasitic being that took over their host's body, infecting as far as their soulscape, might have the ability to determine healthy hosts…
He kept the sudden turmoil hidden deep in his mind as he walked forward. Yieldenis had been observing him closely over the last few decades they had spent in this time-dilation area, and he knew she might be watching him now. He needed to reach the subsurface area before he would have any semblance of privacy to actively find out what the thing was talking about.
Will it survive that long?
He hesitated as he felt the life of the Soulsucker fade, making some quick calculations. If he walked as he always did, he would reach the entrance roughly when its remaining soulforce would run out, and with it, its life. Perhaps it would survive, perhaps not. However, if he fed it any soulforce now, Yieldenis would notice if she was actively watching him. It was a risk that might cause his cover to be blown, and he wasn’t interested in confronting Yieldenis, not in the least because, as he was now, he might not be able to reliably defeat her if it came to that.
“Explain,” he replied, keeping his voice soft.
“Help… dying…” the Girdaim replied, a sudden burst of hope in its voice.
“Explain, or you die,” Mozarath replied, watching the path ahead of him in annoyance. He could run, but that would draw even more attention.
“Your mind… shattered. Can help…”
Mozarath held back from snapping back. He had to keep his replies as faint as possible.
“How?”
“Save… me…”
Mozarath felt an angry outburst grow deep in his mind and let it bubble there as he stared at the distant path down. Was the thing lying? If it was, he was going to take a risk… Yieldenis was too attentive to him, lost in longing delusions of bygone times. He had been subconsciously using her old feelings to stay hidden for a very long time, but now he wished they were just slightly less.
Even if she finally finds out, I can probably flee even if she tries to stop me now, he thought, thinking about her old abilities and what he’d sensed of her growth. They were impressive, but so were his own, and they were also something she wouldn’t be able to account for.
Making up his mind, he quickly went over the dozens of escape routes and ways he’d planned for picking those that were available right now if he had to use them. The best would be to rush towards the ship that was currently docked and ready to move out to scout. It had a crew he could dominate within a moment, something Yieldenis wouldn’t be able to counter unless she came a lot closer. Between that and his ability to force the ship to move faster, he would be able to leave.
Not the most flashy escape, but it would do, he decided. Besides, he had gained all he could hear… perhaps it was time to leave.
He walked as close to the door as he dared, let the failing parasite drop before letting a tiny trickling, a barest hint of what he was capable of, flow into it through the spot on his arm that it was touching him.
“More…. Need more….”
Mozarath ignored the voice as he continued walking as if nothing had happened. He was ready to move at any time, draw from the surprisingly strong power that even a near-dry soullake provided.
Pulling open the door, he knew that going down there meant different options to flee.
The clinically white hallway beyond the entrance beckoned. He was about to move inside when he sensed a distant burst of soulforce of a signature he would recognize anywhere. For some reason, he’d expected nothing to happen. Even though he’d thought about it only moments earlier, he had fully expected everything to go as he had wanted it.
Well… whatever.
Mozarath took a deep breath, and for the first time since he had awoken, he straightened up and let a slight emotion surface on his face. He pulled on his soulforce, letting it flow into his skills while also allowing a trickle to move into the Girdaim, whose panic subsided slowly. Everything took only a split second, but he could already sense Yieldenis rapidly approaching. Sadly for her, he had prepared for a long time, siphoning the liquid soulforce from all of the smiths she had killed. Long ago, he had already been faster than her, and he still had the one skill that had caused terror in the hearts of the others.
Flooding his stolen skill with soulforce, the world around him shimmered, and he turned and walked away. To him, it looked like everything had suddenly stopped moving, though he knew in reality he was temporarily moving and thinking at a speed far greater than any others. It would drain his precious soulforce, but not by enough to be worrisome just yet.
If only he’d had more time, he might have been able to gather enough… regain one or two of his missing shards and actually be able to fight her head-on.
I’ll find her in the future, he thought as he walked through Yieldenis’ harbor city, actually enjoying his ability to move freely even if it meant he had stepped out of hiding. Yieldenis would send hunters after him right away, but those would fail, and he could now start hunting the remaining Shaidin. He would sense where they were eventually, if he moved closer.
He sensed the Girdaim against his chest, moving as slowly as the others, and he threw away the body of the dead one. He wondered for a moment if he should rip it out of the corpse so he had less to carry, but decided against it. Instead, he looked ahead at the ship in the distance. Every few days, the ships rotated out, and there was always one ready to move. The white sails of the large scouting ship, almost a warship by how powerful its barrier and sails were, were already cleaned and glowing.
Mozarath walked up the dock, over the gangplank, and onto the deck. While nearly everything was frozen in time, the soulforce was moving as it always did, his speed nothing in the eye of what it could do. He pulled more soulforce from his soulscape, the sense of this much power readily available intoxicating even to him. It was so different from having to pull it from his own being, a process that always left him exhausted if he overdid it, and a process that could kill younger Guidar.
Using another skill he’d had left after the event that had left him a mindless husk, he began building up a soulforce pressure behind the sails. It took him a few minutes from his perspective, but when he finished, he walked to the railing, grabbed onto it, and prepared to stop his first skill.
Wait, I need this crew if I am going out hunting…
He scanned the chained on the ship, glad to see that there were no more Girdaim, and noticed that a few would likely be killed or lost if he went like this. Most, however, would be fine.
Good enough, he decided, looking in the direction the ship would rush to. There was nothing there, and he stopped providing soulforce to his first skill. Time resumed instantly, and for a whole second, there was a moment of screeching buildup. Then he felt like the ship was trying to hurl him off as it shot forward, wood groaning in agony, a few screams vanishing as fast as they came.
Mozarath held onto the railing for the few seconds it took for the acceleration to stop and the ship to reach a speed it likely would never hit without his help.
“What in the name of all the cards happened?” a shout came from behind him.
Mozarath turned to see the captain, a small, skinny man whose soulforce signature showed he was far stronger than he should be, looking around. He was bald, with pure green eyes without irises that glowed faintly, set beneath thick black eyebrows that matched his mustache. Their eyes linked, and for a moment, the man seemed ready to walk towards him, then Mozarath pulsed his soulforce, jerking on the chains of all those present.
Instantly, everyone stopped moving and stared at him.
“Lord Guidar?” the captain croaked, somehow still able to actually speak.
“We are heading for the southeastern border to join the war effort,” Mozarath said. “I will show you three worlds you are allowed to stop at to resupply. We will need to have enough to go there.”
The captain’s mouth opened, his mustache moving of its own accord, the tips seeming to lengthen and sway before settling.
“Yes, my lord,” he said, his gaze moving to the corpse Mozarath was still carrying. “Would you like me to clear that up?”
“No. Show me to my room and don’t disturb me,” Mozarath growled before scanning everyone and pulsing his soulforce even stronger, causing them all to freeze, unable to move. “Also, from now on, you are my personal guard. None of you will accept orders from anyone, in my name as one of the First Conclave.”
The words sent a jolt rippling between his soulforce and the soulscapes of all those present as he invoked a thing barely anyone would remember, yet embedded so deeply within all their chains that it made them shiver and shudder. Their understanding was needed for the effect to work, and he knew that from now on, any other Guidar would have to force them to comply actively - a process that wasn’t worth the effort. It was also something he couldn’t do too many times, as the web that bound all chained would notice, and thus some of the others would.
There we go, I’m sure Yieldenis will be surprised now, he thought as he followed the captain, who’d stopped looking directly at him.
A minute later, he was in an opulent room that had likely been that of the captain before. The captain left without a word, and Mozarath sat down in a spacious, soft seat in the corner of the room. He still held the corpse and focused on the eye that was staring at him unblinking.
“So, you cost me a lot. You had better be able to make me happy,” he said, letting the threat linger even though he truly didn’t care that much. Just using his soulforce, as he had already brushed away much of his potential misgivings. Not that he wouldn’t make the thing regret it if he found out it had lied…
“Lord Guidar… You… I…” the soulsucker stuttered before seemingly mentally pulling itself together.
“I did not lie! I can sense your mind is fractured, and you are missing roughly a third of your being.”
A third? Mozarath thought, staring at the thing emotionless and hiding his surprise. It should be far less than that… A quarter at the most?
“I know of a technique that can cause the missing pieces to regrow,” the being said in a rush of panic. “It usually doesn’t work for Guidar, but with my lord having a soulscape, it would work!”
Mozarath held back his anger. If this thing could actually detect that he had a soulscape, that meant others might.
“How do you know I have a soulscape?” he asked, switching to mental speech just in case.
“When one of my kind reaches the second rank, we can choose ancestral skills, ways to structure our internal soulforce into complex patterns that-”
“I know how ancestral skills work,” Mozarath snapped, interrupting him. “Can all Soulsuckers do this, or just you?”
“Some,” the Girdaim whispered, showing no reaction to being called a soulsucker besides a softer tone. “It is a rare skill and not very useful.”
Not useful? How little you understand of reality, Mozarath thought, keeping those to himself.
“Explain what you think will allow me to repair my soulforce being,” he said, putting a slight force in his voice which caused the chains of the pathetic parasite to rattle.
“It is a secret that my people have hidden our knowledge of, that some of us know from our ancestral memories,” the Girdaim said, his mental voice sounding panicky. “It is known to others as Soulforce Patterning, or Soulforce Harmony, or Soulforce Constructs, my lord, and—”
Mozarath leaned back, his mind racing along as he recalled the concept. He’d not thought about it for a while, not since he’d done research into soulforce chains. Those were based on an ancient concept that he knew very little about. Just enough to use his skills and soulscape to create the chains that bound the Shaidin.
“Give me every detail of the process that you know,” he said, interrupting the Girdaim’s ramblings.
“I… yes, but, well…”
Mozarath felt his mind go cold, and he leaned forward, his nose a few inches from the despicable thing’s eye.
“You do not know the details?”
“Some! I know some! Enough to get started! To start the healing, but-”
Mozarath cracked his neck, flexing his soulforce so powerful that the chains of the Girdaim constricted to tight it let out a mental scream of agony. It lasted for only a minute, but when Mozarath regained control of his anger, he felt the slight cracks in the being's soulforce signature.
“I can teach you, I can teach you,” it whispered.
“Good, start now,” Mozarath said as he leaned back.
“I will need to be taken into your soulscape, or I can’t survive without a host for longer than a few hours,” the Girdaim whispered.
“Do you take me for a fool? I know the other way your kind can infect a host,” Mozarath snapped.
“It doesn’t work with Guidar,” the Girdaim squealed quickly. “We trie- It doesn’t work.”
Mozarath ignored the last part. He cared nothing for the other Guidar besides that he needed them alive to keep control of their empire. As soon as he found a way to move into the real universe, he was more than happy to see them left behind.
“Why should I believe you? There are no other Guidar with soulscapes, so you know nothing,” he said.
“I promise…? There’s… either that or I need a new host, and I don’t even know if there is a compatible one, and then I need to shatter its mind, and, and… it will take too much time.”
“Not if you can move into their soulscape,” Mozarath said as he sensed the chained crewmen on the ship.
“Why would they let me in?” the Girdaim asked, a slight curiosity in its voice.
“Because they won’t have a choice,” Mozarath said as he got up and headed for the door. “Now start explaining.”
--
“Will you return here on your way back?”
Irwin rolled his shoulders as he looked at the distant horizon of the branch that led toward Igniz. Greldo stood beside him, while the others were either in his soulscape or inside Greldo’s shadowpocket.
“Yes,” he said as he looked at Narios standing beside him.
He thought back to his conversation with Brazardian, and he knew he would have to. The high-ranked Ganvil was working rapidly at preparing himself to leave Granvox, something that still stunned Irwin when he thought about it. The rank seven had just asked him if he would bring him along, and waved away all worries about having to potentially start again.
“I will likely be back within half a year, because there are things I need to pick up before leaving again," he said, knowing they would likely be back much faster. The problem was that he wasn’t sure he was listening, so it was best to stick with a normal traveling time to Igniz.
“Good. I’ll find you those books and cards we talked about,” Narios said.
Two days of singing and making music had quickly reminded him why he liked the man, and the feeling had been mutual. Now that he had to leave, he knew he would miss having someone around who actually knew more about the theory of musical reforging than he did.
“Thank you,” Irwin said, knowing full well that the cards he needed were going to be unlikely to be found by Narios. Even Brazardian had none of the cards that he needed, or that might help the other potential worldcarded. Still, the chances of Narios finding the books detailing ancient and obscure musical cardreforging styles were enough to make him come back just for that.
“You ready?” Greldo asked, looking annoyed. “Dahlia just won’t stop asking when you are finally done.”
Because she wants to tell me some secret she has to tell me by herself, Irwin thought, rolling his eyes.
He grinned at Narios, looked around the harbor at the dozens of Niox that were moving around, some glancing at him. There was a massive fleet near Granvox right now, hundreds of ships, many with powerful warriors, their soulforce resonance surprisingly potent.
There are multiple with three soulcards, Irwin thought.
‘Don’t worry. Brazardian and the other old rustbuckets know what is going on,’ Ambraz muttered in his mind. ‘Can we already go and talk with Dahlia and see the cardseed she made?’
‘You don’t know that's what she wants to show us,’ Irwin replied.
‘Sure, we don’t,’ Ambraz said, and Irwin could almost feel the sarcasm dripping from his voice.
“I’m ready,” he said, giving a final wave at Narios, who waved back.
He’d barely finished the wave when he felt Greldo pull him into the shadowrealm. He let himself be moved, and he reappeared in a slightly shadowy room with a furnace on the left and Dahlia pacing in front of it.
“Finally!” she exclaimed, walking towards him with glittering eyes. “I succeeded! Finally!”
‘See?’
Irwin ignored Ambraz, accepting a simple quartz card that Dahlia handed to him.
“You can make shadow-typed cardseeds?” he asked, looking at the card.
“Yes! I’ve managed three so far, and it's still hit and miss. I fail more than I succeed, but it's getting better,” she said, pacing back and forth, staring at the ground. “That one is called Bend Shadow, and most of them are like that or something very similar. What I do know is that all have the ability to manipulate shadows or the ability to move through it with a form of shadow step.”
“Or? Not and?” Irwin asked.
“Yes,” Dahlia said as she stopped staring at the card in annoyance. “They start out with both, but when I reforge them, right from amethyst rank, they take either of those two. Each time I try to let them have both, the cards shatter.”
“Which is why we are here,” Ambraz said as he appeared on Irwin’s shoulder.
“Exactly,” a high-pitched voice piped from above. “It will take Greldo a few days to get us to Igniz, so we want you two to see if you can create a shadow card with both.”
Irwin rubbed his chin as he looked at the card. “I have something else I need to do first,” he said as he walked towards the nearby table.
“What? What could possibly be more important than these cards?” Dahlia asked, frowning as she joined him, sitting on the stool on the other side.
“Do you remember Tang?” Irwin asked, as he prepared to explain the Fiz’rins situation to her.