BT IV - Chapter 24

“No,” Dakkora replied, barely suppressing an eye roll.  “I am not an evil spirit haunting our crown that is trying to possess your body.”

“I apologize,” she continued, slipping to a seat in one of the couches, “I said that we were smart enough to know what was going on, but apparently I was wrong.  I failed to account for the fact that at times, you’re as clueless as a brick.”

“I was kidding,” Micah responded, running his hands over his body to make sure that none of the daemon’s tendrils were still attached.  All of the creature’s human forms had disappeared the moment he had consumed its core, leaving him alone in the brothel with Karin Dakkora.  “I know we’re connected on a deeper level than that.  I’ve… been having these flashbacks.  ‘Remembering’ things that never happened where I’m pretty sure that I’m you.”

“Of course,” he said, locking eyes with the sorceress, “you’ve dropped some pretty big hints.  If you keep referring to me with first person pronouns enough times,, I really would have to be clueless as a brick not to figure it out.”

“I just can’t figure out why you’re still around.  As best I can understand, reincarnation is supposed to completely wipe a soul clean.  Even if we’re the same person, I shouldn’t be able to talk to you directly like this,” Micah finished.

“Plenty of people talk to themselves,” Karin replied, stretching out her right hand.  A glass of white wine appeared from thin air in her thin fingers.  “You’re just a little crazy Micah.  Nothing wrong with that, and something that you’ve suspected since you left Basil’s Cove.”

He glared suspiciously at the glass of wine in her hand for a second, debating whether or not he wanted to try his luck with a drink of his own before ultimately deciding against it.  Micah might succeed, but if he knew on an almost instinctual level that if he struggled or failed that Dakkora would never let him live that down.

“Have you been watching this entire time?”  Micah asked, trying to keep his tone diplomatic as he redirected the conversation.  “I’d imagine watching me play in the mud and take baths as a small child would have gotten boring after the fiftieth time.”

Dakkora swirled the wine in her glass, pausing for a second to take a deep sniff before sampling the drink.

“Arofoncce Vineyards 622,” she said happily, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the drink.  “One of the underrated benefits of being a disembodied spirit.  In a proper soulspace like this, I can create whatever I want so long as there are proper memories to give the thought shape.”

“Unfortunately,” she continued, pausing for a moment to take another sip, “I ordinarily can’t see out of our eyes.  I’m stuck in a place like this, ruminating over my life’s mistakes with only the occasional treasure trove of repressed memories for me to rummage through.  Usually it's all boring stuff: childhood trauma, breakups, weddings, and major life traumas.  Every once in a while I get to see a new technique or piece of research, but that’s changed with you Micah.”

“Is it because I pursued your legacy?’  He questioned.  “I know you have a connection with the scepter and the crown, it would make sense that they unlocked some sort of connection between the two of us.”

The woman chuckled, reaching out and placing her now empty wineglass on an end table that appeared out of thin air.  She leaned forward, face in her hands and elbows on her knees as she contemplated Micah.  One second ticked into another as she watched him, and just as Micah began to squirm under her gaze she spoke up.

“You are the only other human I’ve ever seen that has combined my recklessness and inquisitive mind.  I do not think another blessed can approach my knowledge on Elsewhere and daemons, and you literally went there yourself.  Admittedly, you had some help from the Goddess in surviving, but you still survived the mists for a fraction of a second.”

“That and your arcana skill were what woke me Micah,” Dakkora continued, tapping her index finger to the side of her head.  “I have to say, I was going a bit crazy in there with nothing to do but simulate experiments and talk to the others.  Even if half of your life was teenage melodrama with you mooning over that ridiculous Jo girl, it was certainly a step up from chatting with the old man about his grandchildren and failings.”

“Oh no,” Micah breathed out, his eyes widening.  “You watched me fumbling around with Jo.”

“And those dramatic stunts you tried to pull with the Durgh,” Dakkora replied with a chuckle.  “It all seemed so important to you and silly to me.  After all, if I wanted a man or a woman, it was a simple matter to summon a brensen and nab them from their beds.  Then I would cast a will binding ritual and have the perfect partner for a month or so until the spell consumed them.  Clean and without any loose ends.”

“That doesn’t… sound terribly ethical.”  Micah did everything he could to keep his voice diplomatic, but evidently it wasn’t enough  Karin rolled her eyes at his discomfort.

“Ethics slow research,” she said dismissively.  “The gods in their infinite wisdom created a world where everything recycles.  Every spirit lives countless lives, slowly developing and growing so that it can take on greater and greater burdens with the goal of eventually ascending altogether.  Ending one mediocre life early to advance research that will last for generations?  That is a logical sacrifice that anyone could understand.”

He looked around the room.  The colors were faded and details were starting to disappear.  Ever since Micah had consumed the daemon their surroundings had begun to lose cohesion.  Maybe it was the extra energy running through his body from consuming the monster’s core, but he felt like he could single out the individual motes of energy that formed the walls and furniture around him.  They were burning out, slowly but surely.  In five to ten minutes, there would only be embers left and he would awaken.

“The last time I killed a greater daemon,” Micah spoke slowly, reasoning out loud as he kept his eyes locked on the sorceress.  “I woke up immediately and there was a hole ripped in space that was letting daemons in.  Somehow, given our limited time in this space, I doubt you kept it from dissolving simply to lecture me on the nature of good and evil, especially because we both know how vehemently I would disagree with you.”

“Good eye,” Dakkora replied.  “I knew there was something of me in you.”

“Now tell me Micah.”  Her face transformed into a wolfish grin as she leaned toward him.  “Tell me what you know about souls?”

“They look like spheres?”  Micah hazarded.  “Spheres covered in chains and runes so intricate that even after years of research I can barely understand a tenth of what they mean.”

“You’ve seen them directly!”  Dakkora’s eyes lit up.  “For all of my skills, I’ve never managed to secure something like your arcana skill. I can’t even piggy back off of you.  The only time I couldn’t see through your eyes was when you were casting your gaze inside your research subjects.  It was like Mursa herself came down to tap her foot impatiently while staring me down.  I just wanted to stick my tongue out at the old hag.”

“Hag!” Micah burst out before he devolved into a fit of coughing.

“Well,” she replied, “maybe not a hag, but we both know that young and beautiful body of hers is as real as the bodies that the daemon made in your soulspace to try and lure you in.  As best I can tell, the real forms of the gods aren’t that much different from the daemons themselves.”

“Mist and power,” Dakkora ranted excitedly.  “Just a marginally friendlier sort.  Of course, at the end of the day, that’s what we are too.”

Micah opened his mouth to contradict her, but deep down, the power that he associated with his major arcana skill throbbed.  It was the same as the limitless power of Elsewhere, but rather than a rabid dog it was tamed.  Watchful and under control as it curled around his heart, just waiting for Micah to call on it.

When he finally spoke, it wasn’t a shout of indignation or denial.  He was beyond that.  Micah could feel the truth in her words even if he had never directly made the connection before.

“I don’t understand.  Deep inside, I know you’re right, but I’ve seen souls.  That’s not at all what they look like.”

“That’s the seals keeping them in place,” she responded, eyes bright.  “I suspect that’s what the chains and locks you’ve observed actually are.  When the gods made us, we were little more than scraps of mist stitched together.  If a soul was unleashed before it was ready, it would simply fade away.  After all, you’ve already seen it happen with those forgotten that the Third Prince has modified.  It damages and redirects their seals.  Instead of growing and nurturing their soul over a lifetime, they burn it out in a few scant years.”

“Of course,” Dakkora rambled, barely even focusing on Micah as she talked to herself, “that’s the only real sin.  There are infinite lives on Karell, but a finite number of souls.  Death and torture build character while the daemons are the only thing that actually and truly destroys.  I might not agree with the gods, sanctimonious monsters play-acting as moral paragons, on many things, but that is one spot where we are perfectly in tune.”

“Karin.”  Micah leaned forward, snapping his fingers in front of the woman’s face.  “Focus.  We both know that we have limited time here.  You need to tell me something.  What is it?”

“Right,” she replied, shaking her head.  “Souls.  Where were we?  Souls, souls, souls.”

Micah struggled to keep his face even.  The walls of the brothel were… thinner.  Almost translucent.  As interesting as the theoretical conversation with the spirit of Karell’s most powerful ritualist were, they were running out of time.

“Micah,” Dakkora interrupted herself.  “Do you know why you are able to talk to your past life like this?  Other than the trauma related to your efforts in Basil’s Cove damaging your psyche and driving you very slightly mad of course.”

“I’m not kidding about that by the way,” she continued, tone exuberant.  “You’ve managed to heal most of the wounds, but they’ve left scars, and those scars have damaged the seals on your soul.  It’s a strange phenomena and one I would suggest you try to replicate.  Maybe by torturing orphans?  They’ll thank you if they survive long enough to unlock their full potential.”

“Err, not really,” Micah replied, reaching up to itch the back of his head.  “If you could-”

“Focus, right, focus.”  Dakkora was speaking faster now, her eyes wild.  “Micah, I figured out how to ascend.  The big goal of the gods?  Becoming very powerful isn’t enough.  Eventually, around level one hundred the chains on your soul will begin to dig in, to suffocate you.  Once you reach that point, further growth is actually harmful to your mortal body, you’ll kill yourself.  The only way is to throw off the shackles and release your soul.”

“Of course.”  She didn’t stop to breathe.  Not as a metaphor, Dakkora simply was beyond the need for oxygen and too excited to pretend any longer.  “You need to have the force of will to reform your soul after you release the seals.  Otherwise, you simply turn into mist and return to Elsewhere.  Without any cohesions, you would lose the ability to think or perform any conscious action.  Like the rest of the lesser daemons like onkerts and brensen, you would be become nothing more than a wisp of emotion like anger, hunger, or lust.”

When Dakkora said the last word, she motioned to the room around them.  Micah opened his mouth to interject, but she cut him off, continuing her unending torrent of words.

“That was the stage where we failed Micah.  I had the power and the will to ascend, but I wasn’t complete.  Only after releasing the seals did I discover that.  Although my soul had grown in power, it wasn’t balanced.  I was only barely able to reapply the seals before I dissipated, but I lost almost forty levels in that half second where I left my body.”

“That,” she spat the word out, “was when Luxo’s champion found me.  The rest is quite literally history, except for one important fact that the books left out.  I was able to perform one last ritual, preserving my memory and will along with those that came after me.”

“There is a reason why the gods have failed innumerable times,” she continued.  “It is true that a being like you or I only comes around rarely, but we are always squandered because the act of transforming your soul requires perfect balance.  I am too aggressive and impersonal to ascend on my own.  I realize that now, but at the same time our soul is more than just me.  You and I are at opposite poles with the child and the elder between us.  With the added energy from greater daemons of hunger and lust, we are almost where we need to be.  We are almost what we need to be.”

“You want us to merge,” Micah said quietly.  “For you and I to blend with these other lives you’re talking about so that we can achieve balance and ascend.”

“Not yet,” Dakkora responded, a mad smile on her face.  “But when you perform the youth rituals for Sandrovok’s elite?  Then you can loosen the seals.  Don’t remove them entirely, we’re not strong enough to survive ascension yet, but I can perform the ritual inside us to fix the fracture.”

“No offense,” Micah said, raising both of his hands.  He could see mist flowing into the room through cracks in the walls that were growing with each passing second.  “But why should I trust you?  You say that you’re me, and I can feel the truth behind that, but you’re an insane witch.  Even in just this conversation you’ve casually mentioned something like five different acts that I consider beyond horrifying.  How do I know that this isn’t just another version of what the greater daemons want, some sort of trick to allow you to consume my identity and take control of my body?”

“None taken,” she replied breezily.  “If you were anyone other than me, I absolutely would simply rob you of your power and body.”

Micah smiled dryly at the woman, shaking his head while he chuckled.

“This is hardly compelling Karin.  If you want to convince someone to do something dangerous and idiotic, it might be better to not point blank admit that under ordinary circumstances you would try to possess them.”

“But Micah.”  She lunged forward, grabbing him by the wrist.  Her hand was strangely warm, and despite himself, Micah didn’t feel the need to jerk back. “That is exactly why I cannot ascend on my own.  I am incomplete.  Too cold and impersonal.  The others and you?  Well, we all individually have our flaws, but I can see each of them in you.  More than that, I can see why Mursa guided your powers in the direction of time.  She was polishing you for this moment.”

“Your first life.”  Dakkora’s voice hit a manic pitch.  “You embodied the youth.  You were naive and fled from your responsibilities and acted on instinct only to die young.  Your second life?  That was the elder.  You went with the flow and obeyed authority too much only to find yourself bound by worldly concerns.  But your third life?  Well that was all me.  You threw yourself into your study and research only to develop powers that shocked both me and the world.  Admittedly, it didn’t turn out all that well, but you got better.”

“But right now.”  Her eyes were gleaming as she stared at Micah.  “Right now you are something new.  You are almost there.  You just need the extra push of integrated with your past lives and then we will be balanced.  That is why you have become strong enough to consume greater daemons without a ritual formation.  That is how you have developed the major arcana skill.”

“More importantly,” Dakkora finished, a sly look stealing over her face, “That is the only way you can have any hope of defeating the Third Prince.  External powers can only take you so far Micah.  The levels and magic granted by the gods can only let you damage its physical form.  To actually defeat that monster, you will need complete control over your own soul as well as the power and memories that the three of us represent.”

The cracks in the walls grew deeper.  Micah could see Elsewhere roiling beyond their boundaries.

“I understand your reluctance Micah,” the woman hissed urgently.  “From your perspective, I represent the worst in you.  But it’s important to remember, that although I am your dark side, I am still you.  When the time comes, you and I will not destroy each other, we will all merge, shoring up our weaknesses and finally becoming complete.  You will not need to abandon who you are, you only need to become who you are.”

The walls shattered and fog began to roll into the room.  In the distance, Micah could see shapes moving.  Vast beings without proper form or substance slithered toward the two of them.

“Remember Micah!’  Dakkora shouted, her voice seeming impossibly distant.  “When you perform the ritual, loosen but do not break the seals and pour your remaining temporal energy into your core, I will do the rest.”

His eyes opened to the snarling visage of a luoca leering down at him.