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Penitent Book 3 Ch 7: Context
🕑 Added 2025-10-02 12:00:06 +0000 UTCSylas checked again on each of the runes he’d carved into the stone. After he was certain that they were all in order, he moved to the nearby table and grabbed a vial of mercury. He took the vial and began to pour it into each of the carved ruins, being careful to go slowly so that it wouldn’t spill out of them. Once he was done filling the circle of runes, he returned the vial to the table and began to grab the bowls. One was filled with the saved chrysalis’s of butterflies, another was filled with rosebuds that had been just about to bloom, and the third was filled with dried froglings. He set each bowl in the circle of runes carefully to create a perfect triangle. Finally, he grabbed a small mirror which he placed just within the ritual circle. Once that was done he went to the far wall, where he put on his titled robe, hat, and grabbed his titled spear.
He began to move magicka though his channels. He remembered how they had felt when he’d first arrived, extending from his center through to his fingers and toes. They’d told him that his potential was extraordinary as a mage, and he could extend his will further than a hundred feet. Since he’d begun to twist his channels into coils though, he could extend them nearly a mile. So many had told him to picture the channels in straight lines, but they were missing the whole picture. Add in the titles and deeds related to Magicka that he’d accumulated and he was certain that he was the strongest mage living. Most thought he was second to the current court mage, Beldon, but that was by his design. Being the strongest came with fetters, and if he wanted to achieve his goals he needed to be free of those.
He began to cast his spell, but hesitated. He took the locket from around his neck and kissed it, the image of his wife carved into a cameo inside by the finest dwarven craftsmen lay inside.
“I will return to you my love. Today is the day.”
He started casting his spell, sending his magicka through the thick and powerful coils he’d formed throughout his body and speaking the language of those that had conquered his homeland.
“I call upon the Liminal, I call upon the transitional, that which changes and shifts. I stab at the gaps between worlds and tear my way home!” As he spoke the mercury filled runes began to shine and shift in myriad colours and the bowls he’d placed out suddenly became lit with purple flame.
He repeated his phrase seven more times, then as he felt his power begin to crest he slammed his foot onto the mirror within the circle, shattering it, and stabbed into the air above the runic circle with his spear. He could feel as it hit something solid and golden light began to appear at the speartip. He dragged it down and an angry red tear formed in the air in front of him.
As Sylas looked at the swirling red miasma he smiled with triumph. He’d done it! He could go home! As he stepped toward the portal, he found himself suddenly heading toward the ground as his Magicka bottomed out. The portal that he’d created flickered, and then vanished.
“NO!” Sylas tried to push himself toward where it had been, but he fell instead, his face hitting the hard stone as all the strength drained from his body. “NO! NO! NO!” He tried to claw himself forward, but only managed to open the skin of his fingers and make them bleed. He’d done everything right! He’d created the ritual perfectly! He’d done it!
He scraped his bleeding fingertips across the ground. He didn’t have enough power. He lacked the magicka needed to make the portal stable. His jubilation had turned to misery in less than a second.
He curled into a ball and sobbed until he passed out. He wasn’t sure of how long he’d been out, but when he woke up he was surprised to see a small insectoid creature crouched near his face. Its body was a kind of shiny black chitin and its body was long with what looked like dozens of legs, and two sets of wings sat on its back. Its top was vaguely humanoid with a nearly human face and mouth. At the corners of its mouth was something red and dripping, but all the light spells Sylas had put up had gone out when he’d run out of magicka.
He felt a desire to back away from it quickly, but his energy wasn’t fully restored, and he couldn’t move.
The creature cocked its head at him. “You need help.”
…
Michael awoke to a kick to his tent by Ollie. It seemed too soon to have been woken up and he reached for his helmet and readied his sword as he stepped out of the tent ready for anything. He saw Ollie standing looking at what seemed like empty air.
“What is it?”
Ollie held up a hand. “Just wait for it.”
Michael stood there for nearly a minute before he saw it. A few yards in front of Ollie, a rift of pure white light flickered into existence. The surface of it looked like solid marble that shifted as if controlled by an odd geometry, then it vanished.
Ollie kept his arm out, so Michael waited with his mace and shield at the ready, and then another rift flickered into existence. This was one of the angry red ones that he’d seen so much of. They lasted for only a few moments as well, then vanished. Shortly after that there was a blue one that radiated a brief wave of cold, a purple one that seemed to almost be drawing them inside of it, a pure black one that radiated dread powerful enough to force Michael to take a step back even though it lasted less than a second, then more than one opened at once. Soon the entirety of the ruins was a lightshow of different appearing and disappearing flickers of portals between worlds. It would’ve been beautiful, if not for what it all represented. Then, just as suddenly as it started, it ended, leaving them in darkness.
They stood there quietly for a few moments, and Ollie let his Magicka channels slacken.
“Guess I woke you up for nothing.”
“How long had that been going on?”
“A few minutes. I saw one on the surface of the lake a ways out, then they all suddenly started appearing everywhere.”
Michael shook his head. “Things are getting worse.”
“I don’t think they ever get better,” replied Ollie. “So did you get that vision you were looking for so we can get the fuck out of here?”
“I definitely learned a few things,” said Michael before he went through a detailed description of what he’d seen.
“I can see where this is going,” said Ollie. “That little critter convinced him to do some immoral shit and wound up causing the cataclysm. He sounds a lot like a smaller version of what we saw in that Tusinian cave.”
“He was smaller. I was surprised he spoke… wait a minute,” he paused for a moment. “Everyone in my dream spoke English.”
“Your gods do you think?”
Michael nodded, even the thoughts he’d felt that were Sylas’s had been in English somehow.
Ollie stroked his chin, he was in dire need of a shave or he’d start to look a lot more like Pyotr.
“Coiling your magicka channels seems interesting. I wonder if I’d be able to manage something like that. I don’t really experience any improvements at all from creating new pathways these days anyway.” He nodded. “This is the kind of shit I was hoping we’d find out in Old Hume. The ritual seems interesting too. I’m guessing he was trying to evoke the idea of things being liminal or between. Mercury is unstable and shifts easily from a solid to a liquid, cocoons and froglings are obvious too. The rosebuds almost seem more romantic than anything, but as long as they worked for his idea of the spell then they were a good choice.”
“Getting some ideas yourself?”
“Yeah, ones that don’t involve me trying to tear a hole in reality. Guy seems like he was a real drongo.”
Michael looked at him questioningly.
“Stupid, he seems stupid.”
“I got more the impression that he was desperate. He just really wanted to get home.”
Ollie shrugged. “Desperate and stupid are close cousins.” He adjusted his staff a bit in his hands. “So. Do you think your gods still need you here or did that vision get you what you needed?”
He took a moment to listen to the divine, the pull of his Seer title was still strong.
“I think they need me to see a bit more, or find something. We should give it one more day I think.”
“So you can’t just go back to sleep and hop back into it and we leave?”
“Seems like I can’t, no.”
“In that case, I’m getting some sleep. Don’t wake me unless something actually comes out of a rift.”
“Can do.”
Comments
AdvocateOfDoors
TFTC!
Val
Same
Atru
My dumb brain reads Tunisian every time I see Tusinian
