Weight of Worlds

It was taking longer than Ranvir’d anticipated. A chain broke off allowing him to peel away the outer shell, the effort vibrating through him in entire. His body shivered in the cave, his soul reverberating in kind. The shell didn’t come off cleanly, nor was it the only protective measure.

As the shell was a creation of his soul and anima, the shape was far from meaningless despite its less than physical makeup. According to Kasos, the strength and viability were provided entirely by internal perception. Therefore the efficiency of the cage was provided in equal parts of Ranvir’s own efforts as well as the form he gave them.

Peeling the shell away in cracking sheets that shrieked until his Fundament wavered, Ranvir revealed the inner layer of protection. The one actually focused on constraining the egg.

A cage of steel bars perfectly fitted around the egg. Around the structure he’d wrapped a chain of dull red tane-steel, supposedly unbreakable, though he’d never seen it in large enough quantities to test. The outer layer halted Latresekt’s spawn from reaching out into Ranvir. This layer contained it within the given space.

Alarmingly, tendrils of yellow and blue material had branched from the egg and wrapped around the cage and chains, sneaking past and into the ground. It appeared almost as if the egg had struck shallow roots into the soil of his soul.

The eggshell, a less vivid depiction of the protrusion, yellow and blue more closely resembling an old bruise, was undulating wildly. The colors fought with each other, yet there was an eagerness to their appearance. Like dogs greeting new guests.

Ranvir pulled back at the sight. Clearly the creature understood what was happening despite its long internment. Did I succeed? Is this still the remnant of Latresekt that it left behind? He’d sensed a lack of fullness to it when he’d first trapped it. Latresekt had left it behind, but with the spirit’s departure, so had it taken all inhibition and understanding. What was left could very well be a mindless, destructive force.

Latresekt’s people were responsible were in a way responsible for the Red Raid. If Ranvir had failed to convert the spirit, then he might well turn himself into a monster. Would he be any better than Saleema when this was finished?

Could I be much worse? The thought came unbidden as he stared into the fluctuating colors of the egg. Had the question even come from himself? The spirit had struck roots into his soul. Now that the shell was gone, might it be able to affect his thoughts?

No, that wasn’t possible. Not his thoughts, but maybe his emotions. Ranvir licked his lips and stepped close to the cage. He rested his hands on the red chains. Inside his spirit, they appeared older and worn. Dirt had smeared into every line and crease, finding every wrinkle and making new ones where there’d been none before. A representation of his exhaustion.

Tane-steel was supposed to be unbreakable, but that wasn’t possible. Nothing was unbreakable. He glanced up at the tumult surrounding and permeating his spirit. It seemed winds had taken to whipping his entire soul. The once fresh grass surrounding his Fundament, the core element of his soul, had dried up. The ground was cracking. His spirit hadn’t been in such harsh condition since his arrival in Korfyi. Nothing about his spirit was particularly unbreakable at the moment.

Muscles tensed and the air shook throughout his soul and the three spaces within. Loce’s presence momentarily graced him with a brief touch, assurance, before departing to stand guard. Diffusing Loce over a square mile meant they were practically invisible.

The chain snapped with a roar that tore at his eardrums. For a moment, he sensed the steady presence of space, the slight rustling tumble of sand spilling down itself, and a weak keen as if from a bird.

“Free?”

Ranvir startled, looking down at the cage. The riotous colors had united for a span the size of his thumb, swirls outlining a single eye. Ranvir blinked wearily down at the creature. Latresekt’s spawn. A child of war and wrath. He slumped forwards, pressing his forehead against the chill bars.

Presences pushed against him, forcing his acknowledgment. A fire, a slow ache, a quick stab. Bruises, battered bones, cuts, and various other injuries. All but fire, for which he was thankful. And below all of that, weariness. Numbing tiredness with fingers long enough to take Ranvir within its grasp whole. They pressed for attention, forced their way forward, searching for his consciousness. Seeking to swallow him up. Devour his mind and take him into a deep, tired sleep.

He could fight off his body no longer. Breaking the chain had taken it out of him, worn down the last millimeter of give he had. His fingers clenched, even as he slipped away from his soul and wrenched the last steel wide. His weakened soul stood up to no effort and metal bent as if unset clay.

Knife sharp pangs stabbed deep into his shoulder, reaching to his heart as if attempting to stop it. Stiffness ran up and down his back. Over it all, a thick heavy carpet of sleep.

And then it was pushed away. Spine of yellow and blue, now intermingled with white as well. Slamming the sensation away, like lightning racing through his mind.

Ranvir startled into his body, expecting to find Saleema there, driving her sword into his chest. But he was alone. Those emotions, blue and yellow and white, they’d appeared so suddenly he’d expected to find an immediate physical cause, but he found nothing.

Except… he reached up to his sternum. After his fight and escape from Mercy’s Redoubt, Latresekt had left a patch in the middle of his clavicle white. A hexagon, flat top toward his neck, which had slowly faded over the next weeks to match the rest of his body.

Now it returned, revealed through his ripped shirt. Ripples, tiny growth worked outward. New hexagons appeared, spreading upward and to the sides. Behind his shirt, he saw similar growth in the opposite direction. He could feel the hexagons joining behind his neck, even as the spikes solidified. Small in the beginning, they rose higher, becoming a jagged protective collar around his throat. The changes were subtle below his neckline, but he felt them continue unabated.

“Is this you?” he asked, touching the protective material. White, but marbled with yellow and blue. The collar was hard to the touch, yet moved with his neck, allowing him to move freely.

“I am.”

Before Ranvir could attempt to comprehend that response, Loce gathered. The buzzing swarm overwhelming all other noise as it coalesced on his location. Ranvir leapt for Sand Bastion, wrapping himself in protection moments before Saleema appeared through a hole in space.

Her fist struck his hastily assembled shield, dispersing it and sending him into the soil. The Ability was still active and returned before her follow up.

“Poorly.” The creature reached through Ranvir into the shield. “Protect.” Its mind worked on instinct, but was perfectly attuned for mana. Sensing and grasping the various effects it was possible to achieve.

Unfortunately, while Bastion was pretty simple in terms of shields. It appeared Sand wasn’t. Saleema’s next strike struck Bastion as if it was a solid wall. Bastion had become too solid to move, broke with enough force to cut Ranvir’s face, yet lacked the durability of stone.

Saleema drew her sword. Though Ranvir couldn’t see her, he felt the sudden violent rage of warp appearing, unable to hide from him. It would cut through Bastion like butter. Ranvir strained against the protection and the spirit shifted. Bastion loosened to dust, revealing Saleema’s arm reared back.

Space compressing and shifting, carefully laid trajectory. Ranvir could not abuse this attack. He lunged forward, tackling her around the waist, even as the spirit once more scrambled realizing its error.

Saleema backed up a single step, yet lowered her arm to retain balance.

“Attack!” Ranvir yelled, diverting power to a Dune Blow.

“Defend!” Cried the spirit in return.

Ranvir’s attacked landed poorly, but gave him the room he needed. The sand carved the slight cave into a furrow from which he could freely emerge. Sand Bastion settled into its usual shape and he breathed a sigh of relief. Yet, he still felt the creature making small minute changes.

Amanaris

***

Sand Bastion—

Saleema struck before he could interact with the system. Pushing aside her sword, he struck back. Again, Amanaris registered an advancement, though he was prepared this time. It wasn’t the first time it had happen-

Again, he pushed another down.

Ranvir reared back, diverting power to another Dune Blow.

“No!” The spirit cried, pushing at…

Ranvir leapt away from Saleema as he attempted to understand. Why was it saying he should alter Bastion? It could do that itself. He shook his head. This was why he’d freed it. He changed Sand Bastion; the effect was slight, but he immediately felt the new strain of holding the Ability.

“This better be worth it, Spirit!” He yelled, swinging back into the attack. For a moment, they clashed. Thankfully, it seemed Saleema had lost some steam when he’d been gone. Much like himself.

He reared back into a Dune Blow and Sand Bastion quivered with rage and power. Mana diverted much more strongly than he’d expected. Bastion peeling away to join forces with Dune Blow.

Saleema’s eyes widened at the force of his attack. Snow and sand and broken tree limbs swirled around the attack, the ground shaking with the impact. Already the sand surged back to surround him, almost on its own.

Amanaris

***

Synergy detected: Sand Bastion and Dune Blow.

Dune Blow has—

Ranvir dismissed the notification. Towers of violet light burned through the ailing night. Saleema emerged from the mouth of a portal, still healing from the attack. Her eyes burned with fury and something else. Uncertainty.

Exultation roared through Ranvir, echoing blue and yellow from the spirit.