Machine, page 16
part #1 of The Peradran Legacy Series
We watched him enter and without his obvious doing, the shelf slid to its previous position as a part of the lab's furniture.
Cohiri was bright. Her previous concern faded with his casual use of Arcane energy to close the door.
“That's it Eric. We did it and Morbannon is recovered. Without us, I wonder if he could have done it. My chants, you know were directed at the armor specifically, not his soul. That is what he was saying;
'She holds the dirt to free the root.
I am the sun from which it grows.
Together we will live, separate from the earth we sprang from.
I, as the crucible and it/you (the soul) as the content.
Repossessed you are mine.
Free we are one.'
“Over and over. Our chants had to be versed by two people. You were needed to absorb the extremely high level of residual forces present.” Then, concerned again, she asked, “Are you ok? You took quite a dose yourself.”
“I'm fine now. In fact, I feel as if it all never happened.” Even the memory was dim, overshadowed by sudden optimism.
“Let's go.” She made for the door, I followed. The polished door closed directly behind us.
We walked in silence.
We parted at the top of the stairs and bid each other goodnight.
Alone in my room, the fire dim and glowing a dark orange, I sat in reflection of Morbannon's actions. His demeanor was greatly relaxed. His way of speaking was more on the level of equals than his usual preeminent posture. That may have been because of his condition or because of his long awaited objective coming to fruition. Or both. Either way the Evil tyrant I feared would emerge, did not, at least not directly.
I thought of the Suit. The way it seemed to respond to my unspoken will. I wanted to test it. To witness the incident again. I was restless. I left my room and decided to visit the Suit alone.
It stood as I last saw it; standing at full attention. I stood near the circle of red wax, regarding the Suit as an entity of the Void. Without the presence of the lost soul it became independent. Unable to form individual thought it endured as an automaton, sensitive to my force of will.
I was reluctant to try again, if my effort failed it would mean that the effect was confined to the presence of intense Arcane forces and there was no advantage to be gained from the Void. On the other hand, if my effort succeeded, there existed a possible if not rare advantage in visiting the Void. It might rely on the presence of a lost soul or the exact construction of the Suit, which was never duplicated; only the two exist so far and one is here in Peradra and one is on Earth, fused with a man. The two Suits were different in many ways, ways I don't know everything about. Only, mine was not designed with dummy circuits, Kevin's was. Mine had fewer programs than the other; like walking on its own. Kevin controls the second Suit consciously, it is his will that describes its actions now. My Suit, separate and exorcised of influence stood immobile before me.
Arms, raise. Exerting my will with such volition caused the hairs on my neck to stand on end. A peculiar confidence crept into my head, I knew the Suit would respond. The sensation of connection was gone yet I knew the Suit had the Void inside it like I did. That is where my will was directed.
Slowly the arms moved to their limit above its head. I waited, to see if my sheer thoughts would command the Suits actions. My mind raced, images of the Suit in curious positions filled my mind's eye.
No response.
Arms lower. Again the chill spread over my neck and down my back. It wasn't magic. Being able to sense the Arcane presence, I knew that I would never command it consciously, only aware.
Gracefully the arms fell to their prone position.
I decided to challenge my ability. I steadied myself and focused into what there was inside.
Walk forward.
The Suit raised its right foot and stepped forward. The left foot followed; one step, repeated by another. At the circle's edge it stopped, metallic toes on the very edge of the wax. Arcane energy flowed suddenly over me. Despite the fact I knew why; the circle bound the Suit to remain inside its limited area.
Step out. The image of the Void filled my mind's eye as I pressed my influence upon its proximity. I forced myself to play host to its mysterious nonexistence shared by myself and the Suit. Putting the image into scientific perspective, I imagined the Void, existing on the atomic level. Present only to my irreproachable scrutiny as a veteran of the Void's damnable capacity to instantly fuse itself with anything within its dimensional boundaries.
It raised a foot to obey to my will. Yet the magic of the circle held it in. Its foot remained raised, bound to my unachievable command.
Stand fast. I released the obedient automaton. Its inability to complete my order made me feel as if I were abusing the faculty.
It dropped its foot obediently.
Step back. The feeling remained until I gave the new unspoken command.
It took one step backward and stopped. The feeling that I was abusing shifted to a more subtle sensation of dual presence, like I was enacting the movements of the Suit myself. I closed my eyes and centered my attention on the shared Void presence. Immediately my perception became two faceted; seeing myself seeing the Suit, knowing the next command before it was given but unable to perform it until it was made and not feeling anything, unlike my living consciousness which felt a great deal. I noticed my own hands stiffening with the tension of the split perception through the fisheye lens of the helmet camera on the Suits head. Simultaneously I was aware of the Suit, unmoving yet minute twitches could be detected in the hands, mirroring my own. And the head, barely detectable, twitched left and right as my perception surged back and forth.
Step back. The dual presence ebbed a bit then resolved itself into a constant but non-oppressive manifestation.
Again, it stepped one pace in reverse. It stood in the center again. Satisfied, I left the summoning chamber and the Suit to explore the library for some insight via illustrations on the phenomenon of summoning.
Enroute to the library I encountered Morbannon. He was just entering the trophy room, ample light pre-provided according to his Arcane command. He was aware of my approach but ignored my presence and entered the alien animal morgue.
When I reached the door he passed through, he had already chosen a place to recline and found a page in a thin, leather bound book to focus on. He held the book so that his gaze might extend beyond the current page to the door, before which I stood, regarding his appearance outside the laboratory.
I stood for a moment, absorbed by his abject manner.
Before he averted his gaze I spoke of the only topic we shared. “Will you be able to perform as we agreed? Everything?”
As a sloth he lowered the book to his lap, slow enough to provide a distilled silence. During the silence I moved into the room a step, not letting my eyes wander from his. He pulled his legs up off an ottoman and assumed an attentive sitting position. Placing his hands on the book he answered.
“Of course. All we agreed upon will be done as I said.” He paused and took a deep breath to continue. “I require rest. As you know, the repossession of my soul was strenuous to say the least. For both you and I. My injuries sustained during the Ritual were extensive, I may appear to have healed on the surface but inside, the damage remains.”
“I understand.” My acceptance of his reassurance went without further conjecture. My presence seemed to annoy him, he affected a stoic countenance regarding me without repose. I got the message, I nodded my head slightly before turning to leave. He nodded back and lifted his book off his lap and resumed his reclined posture by lifting his legs onto the ottoman. He cleared his throat and turned his attention to the page before him. The lamp at his back grew dim then bright then slightly dimmer again. He flicked the corner of the next page between his fingers and relaxed his posture. His eyes followed the script, a slow controlled exhale made his nostrils flare slightly as if my remaining so long was mere subjection to which he must abide.
I moved out quickly, waiting to feel his glare as if even my retreat equaled distraction. A subtle twinge in my Arcane sense suggested a reflex glance from behind his lowered brow just as I was about to pass the corner toward the foyer. I leaned into the action to avoid meeting his gaze and prolonging the experience of being more a nuisance than a mosquito.
The primal intensity behind his expression made me feel a twinge of paranoia. How would the intense rage of his repossessed soul filter through the dispassionate intellect I experienced over the first two days as his guest. More of the injured panther, unable to flee and warding off any intruder near enough to see or hear.
Maybe I exaggerate from behind my own injury, the memory of my dream hovered before my minds eye; Lena, driving my car, her thoughts consumed by her mixed feelings. Eyes fixed on the road she traveled she imagined the form of her lover.
CHAPTER TWELVE
FATE, IN PERADRA
I attempted to sort the menagerie that consumed my thoughts. The simple decor in each of the seemingly useless rooms blurred into an out of focus mosaic, forming the backdrop of a fast forward retrospection.
My short term conclusion pointed stiffly to the Void. Its effect on everyone I've seen since my first visit, rendered all our vulnerabilities exposed. One by one, in no specific order each circumstance received its reckoning. Simultaneously, each step I followed seemed to merely expose more augmented circumstances.
The image of a spiraling path leading deep into a chaotic maelstrom poured itself over the images of my retrospect. I wrestled with the compulsion to give in to that unfavorable point of view.
I found myself standing at the foot of the great staircase in the foyer. I regarded the countenance of Morbannon in the enchanted portrait over the archway to the library. Somehow, I sensed within the image a different Arcane presence. Subtle yet perceptible to my accessory observation.
My thoughts free from the depths of my star-crossed introspect, I found myself drawn to the balcony overlooking the hidden valley. During the day, such scenery promised to inspire a sense of security. I began climbing the stairs, my footfalls soft under the pliant soles of the leather boots.
High above, light filtered through the stained glass window centered amid the many arches converging on its circumference. No definite shadows were cast in its fire-like radiance. The painted on reflection merely faded from opaque to a translucent filter through which could be seen the actual spectrum.
At the top of the great staircase and to my left, toward the balcony tower, pale fingers of daylight flowed out from every room into the hall. I passed my room first. Heavy drapes were drawn aside, revealing a cerulean sky; unbroken, abstract in its purity.
The same sky in each window until I reached the spiral stairs. Fresh air drifted down. The stone walls were cold to touch but as I climbed further the stone grew warmer but not as warm as direct sunlight made the stone feel.
I stepped into the open air, the unbroken sky spanned out above me in every direction. The intense blue surrounded the valley, the sun had just broke the top of the keep. The stone railing at the precipice was just coming out of shadow. I moved there and faced the early sun.
It felt good, the sun. I closed my eyes and I almost felt at home. I imagined myself standing in the desert.
I felt someone next to me and opened my eyes. Cohiri, wearing a lace shawl. She seemed cold, the kind of cold that comes from within.
“This is an illusion.” Her voice came at me dream-like. She blinked in slow motion and stared at me.
“What is?” My own voice seemed displaced and dream-like. Her countenance as abstract as the sky.
She smiled and tilted her head slightly. Her lips parted slowly as she spoke again. “Your 'Day in the Sun'.” She smiled in slow motion again and stared, expressionless.
Starting out of sight and behind me, darkness engulfed the world. The warm sun shut off and a stout chill crept through my hands from the stone railing.
Cohiri's eyes darkened with the sky, her smile remained if not rendered more ominous in the sudden change of atmosphere.
Momentarily the handful of stars in the Peradra sky revealed themselves to my adjusting pupils. The dark valley below became the bottom half of a hollow log, huge and not at all comforting.
Cohiri's presence carried the Arcane signature; as it faded her eyes reverted to their natural green color. Her eyes met mine, behind them excitement prevailed.
“I was thinking of you,” she started. Her teeth exposed in an involuntary grin. “Suddenly I knew your thoughts while you weren't there.” She maintained eye contact. “Not all of them, just what was on top.” She put her hands on mine, her eyes sparkled as my Arcane sense peaked and my equilibrium was tested as I faltered under the sudden tide.
Without releasing my hands she explained, “It started when I first knew your thoughts in the foyer, twice. Again after that but you were with me.
“Alone then you filled my thoughts. The connection was fleeting but your desire, that burns even now fueled my senses; aware of all that the Arcane was and is. Your 'Day In The Sun' flowed from inside me; blossoming into a reality only you and I could perceive.” She seemed to want my opinion of her spontaneous faculty of Illusion. Deeper, her feelings were sublime.
I stood there in the cold night, where moments before the most enchanting day I had ever experienced warmed my spirit. Now the only warmth was Cohiri's hands on mine. I embraced her, keeping her hands with mine and behind her back.
“It...was beautiful; it felt real.” Her demeanor wavered from omnipotence to realization. Her whole body tightened. She shook her head slightly trying to clear her thoughts.
“That's weird.” Her lips moved as she searched for words. “Its not there.” She relaxed without leaving my arms and met my eyes again.
“What's not there?”
“The feeling of power, of control; dominance.” Then she kissed me and said, “I'd do it again, but I'm not sure it would be a good idea or even if I could.”
I felt the cool caress of a delicate chain on my little finger. “Do you think your charm had any influence on your ability?”
“Maybe, Morbannon said its power is to provide the wielder with enhanced Arcane energies. But he still has it.” I cut her off by pulling her left arm out.
She laughed at her own surprise.
“I don't understand...I'm sure I wasn't wearing it a moment ago.”
“There is another thing.” We both admired the tiny Amulet as I spoke. “I didn't sense the Arcane presence during the illusion. Since my arrival here it has proven to be accurate as well as discerning.”
“No doubt.” Her eyes left the Amulet to meet mine. “You've innately sensed nearly everything I needed magic to detect.”
“So far my Arcane sense has operated on an involuntary basis. I wonder if I'm developing the knack of focusing my sense of the Arcane presence.”
I returned my gaze to the Amulet. There was an instant response. “Yep, there it is!” I shook her arm enough to jingle the tiny chain. The tiny ruby bobbled around her wrist.
I looked down to the roof which sheltered the main foyer, to the circular stained glass window in its center. Pale light glowed from within. There I fixed my gaze and my Arcane sense. “There too!” I pointed, stabbing my finger at the window below.
“Oooh-Kaaay!” She laughed pulling my arm in around her. “I guess we can say that you just missed the Arcane presence that time. From now on you'll have to remember to exercise your talent, and learn when and where to do so.”
We remained in each others arms in silence. I became absorbed in my thoughts.
'From now on', that seemed longer than I planned. The World of Peradra was beginning to grow on me. Even the sparsely star-lit sky appealed to me then. Cohiri's arms around me numbed the memory of my prophetic dreams. When the time came for me to return to Earth, would I?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DESTROY WHAT YOU ARE
The morning sun warmed the air and dried the dew. It was humid and Makad wiped his brow. He had left the forest before dawn, now halfway to Koroot.
Dust played upon the road ahead, between the rows of grain. Soon the silhouette of a carriage emerged. It moved toward him, the Resh'pov's rhythmic gallop grew louder. He continued walking in the center of the road. The carriage driver informed his passenger of the obstruction, his voice masked by the wind. They did not slow.
The ground began to vibrate as the distance closed between them. Neither Makad nor the carriage altered their path. The air around Makad filled with the spoor of soil. Before they collided and killed Makad the driver played the brake and drew the reins, stopping mere paces away.
A thick cloud swirled around Makad obscuring his vision. When the air cleared the carriage opened up and a woman emerged. She spoke in the Lalgoré tongue.
“Greetings Makad.” Then she assumed her royal stature awaiting a response.
“Greetings Lady Ciltia.” Makad stepped before her and offered his sword.
She put her hand upon the blade. “Your sword serves me best in your hands, Sekka’kaar.” She used the ancient word for Warrior. His face a mask of emotion, for a time when being a Lalgorè meant sovereignty.
“Lady.” He secured the blade and faced his liege.
“We are together on gaining the Amulet?” The question was intended as rhetoric so she continued. “And why we act in secrecy.”
Makad crossed his arms and widened his stance. “I spoke only to Sekka’kaar.”
“Speak no more of this until the girl returns to your Khapr. Until then we remain as strangers. None of the Sekka’kaar are to attempt to reach me either. You alone know how to reach me in private.” Ciltia reached into the folds of her vest to a concealed scabbard. Revealing a slim dagger no longer than her finger. She handed it to him with a warning. “The blade is hollow, filled with deadly poison. You need only scratch her skin and she dies.”
