Chapter 8: Chapter 6, To meld ones souls

Chapter 6, To meld ones souls

 

“Log H7B, Entry 11: Host has regained consciousness. Estimated time since soulmelding was initiated, searching…, 7.38e-4 Units (approximately 3 years) ago.”

I regain my consciousness with a jolt of pain. My head is killing me while my mind refuses to complete a single coherent thought before the fog of confusion drowns and disperses what little progress I’ve made.

“Log H7B, Entry 12: Host consciousness appears to be struggling with navigating mental feelers towards the desired soul layer, soul index and object location. This appears to be causing both confusion and discomfort. Solution to speed up host consciousness mental mapping of structural soul changes, searching…, not found.”

Behind the pain and confusion I hear some sort of voice in a distant, muffled sort of way. I have a problem making out what it’s saying but my bottomless curiosity is piqued by the weird sound of it all. The voice is monotone, stilted and mechanical in its delivery which only makes understanding it that much harder.

“Log H7B, Entry 13: System brought information packets remain stable in original soul mesh and are protected from host’s unconscious tampering and restructuring processes. Packets predetermined to unfold and disperse contents in sync with host’s natural acclimation to foreign soulmatter. (Tether to log entry on completion of said process will be automatically reinforced from this entry as a starting point in the chain).”

 

My headache may be lessening but my confusion is only growing. What does this even mean? I can understand most words but I can’t comprehend any real meaning from the sentences. It almost sounds like a scientific scholar's ramblings.

I try to get a grip on my situation by opening my eyes only to realize that I can’t see anything. It’s either pitch black in here or I have gone blind. When I try to move my limbs to check if I have been restrained by the mad scholar I also notice that I can’t feel anything except a dull headache. It’s like I’ve been disconnected from everything except my hearing.

The most curious of all is how perfectly calm I feel about my current predicament. It’s not like I don’t want to know where I am or who is experimenting on me but there’s no urgency or panic. I feel detached, almost severed from myself, like my thoughts take on the same cadence and lack of infliction that the scholar’s voice is droning on in.

There’s no boredom and without the slight drive that is always pushing against the back of my mind, telling me to get a move on, get stronger, go explore and so on, I could probably have stayed like this forever.

Luckily for me it hasn’t left and since I can’t make heads or tails of the scholar’s mysterious notes I take a look at my notifications. That’s always a good place to start when you had a few too many drinks and don’t remember the previous night.

I am immediately bombarded with a whole slew of notifications.

 

Ding! You have died.

Ummm what? Let’s pretend I didn’t see that and just continue as if everything’s alright.

Ding! You have started fusing your soul with an incorporeal entity!

Ding! The soul-fusion process has been halted by the target entity.

Ding! An incorporeal entity has started the process of melding to your soul.

Ding! You have slain [D.Core Subsystem V.uk5f2c - Level 293] Experience withheld until class has been selected.

Ding! You have gained Resistance [Soul Magic Resistance].

Ding! Resistance [Soul Magic Resistance] has increased from [1] to [23].

Ding! Soul-melding process was successful!

 

Alright. Hmm… This is probably bad.

I consider the notifications in a calm and collected, slightly morbid, fascination. They seem so out of place. I mean it says it right at the top “YoU HAvE DiEd!” and then there’s this whole battle of the souls. Me apparently trying to fuse to a ghost soul or something and failing.

I can’t have angered the ghost with my attempt at a surprise fusion since it decided to tag along by melding itself to me. And what’s with that kill notification? How the hell did I manage to kill anything if I am dead? What is going on?

I know another way to check what may have happened to me that the notifications simply avoid mentioning. It usually clears up any confusing notification that seems out of place and that is by checking my status sheet. This time it didn't help at all.

 

---

-Status-

ID: ZCRlarSsyarmiVk5c_
Level: [?]+
Race: ?
Age: ?

Att.atT-ribu?:
???
???
???
Agility: [4h]
Dexterity: [?]
Intell_igence: [14?]
Wisdom: ?

???

???

Mana: [140/14u]

?7el_h, Sta;in>, Mana regen: [?], [?], [15] / Minute

Traits:
Arcane ?affinity_.;

Resistances:
…
Sou{m?gic resi?ta4ce - [23?]

General skills:
…
IdentAn?ly!fy - [5?x]
Men.ab0lt - [16]
…
Mana Sig/t - [7]
M.f6a Mani#ul?+ion - [1.1]

???

 

Clas< 1: No - Available [-12]

Class 2.?: L0cked

---

 

It’s an absolute mess. I can’t tell if I’m broken or if the status sheet died with me since it looks like it had a stroke. And what’s with my name, or ID now I guess? Am I no longer Zelaria?

Who am I then if not myself? A vague memory that feels recent floats to the forefront of my mind. I had been struggling with the same question when I was in pain. I can’t really figure out if it was before or during my death but it feels like the experience might be connected to it.

I sit in quiet contemplation until I realize that the scholar’s back at it again. Having nothing else to do I listen in on his monologue.

“-has discovered themselves changed. The information provided by The system through the notification medium triggered an responsive desire to delve deeper into the changes which have taken place. The status sheet doesn’t seem to have adjusted correctly to the overall changes to the host’s soul-matrix displacement and layerpoint merging. Starting manual overhaul to speed up corrections. Estimated time unt-”

“Hey! Scholar guy, or whoever you are, repeat that about my status sheet. I don’t understand what’s going on and you’re not making any sense.”

I try speaking without having any muscles, or at least not feeling them. How the hell does this even work? It seems to have made it through though as the monotone voice stutters to a confused halt.

Absolute silence.

 

“Hello? Can’t you answer a simple question without all that scholar jargon?”

“Wha-, you. You can hear me? But, but how?”

The stuttering response is surprisingly human sounding even though it’s completely devoid of inflections and still as monotone as before.

“Of course I can. What? Did you think rambling your log entries into my ear for who knows how long wouldn’t get noticed? Are your patients or victims usually deaf or something?”

I can’t believe this guy! Is he suffering from some sort of memory loss or dementia and forgot to refresh the sleeping drugs?

“Wha, what? Patients? How can you be deaf without a body? This is all very disorienting. I. I am actually talking to you. I’m having a conversation. What is this?”

“So I’m your victim then. And what are you rambling about? Not having a body? Of course you’re talking to me, and yes that is called having a conversation, how can that be surprising? Are dead people not supposed to speak? Well, now that I think about it, they aren't. Does that mean I’m not dead any longer and this is the afterlife?”

“My victim? Well yes, I suppose that’s true in some sense since you died in my domain.”

“Oh, so I am dead. That’s sad.”

“No you’re not dead. Well your body is dead but you’re still here aren’t you? And that’s even more surprising. I haven’t ever spoken to anyone before. To think my first conversation would be with an invader who nearly doomed us both.”

I can’t say if this conversation has made me more confused or not. I’m apparently not dead? That’s good, I guess. Now to figure out where ‘here’ is and who I am actually speaking to.

 

“Soo, what's your name?”

“My name?”

“Yeah. My name seems to have been replaced by something else but I still had a name before. Don’t you have a name either?”

“You must be referring to your new ID, or name. It isn’t gone. It has been temporarily corrupted. Your ID serves the same purpose as a name but only artificial souls have its default set to display the former.”

“I see. Artificial souls?”

Is the scholar trying to sidetrack me? I won’t let him do that.

“Wait! Let’s ignore that. You still haven’t answered my question. Who are you?”

 

“I don’t have a name or ID as of now but I did before my soul melded to yours. As to who I am? I’m not sure anymore. Everything changed when most of my soul was lost.”

Finally we’re getting somewhere.

“You’re the ghost in the notifications!”

“Ghost? What ghost?”

Is this ghost more confused than I am? I have no idea what’s going on but seem to know more about myself than they do.

“Alright let’s set this aside since you’re so unsure of yourself. We’ll tackle your identity at another time. I’ll introduce myself instead.”

“Alright…”

 

“Ahem. Hello! My name is Zelaria. I'm 16 years old and I was born in the Terosvar Empire but don’t bother looking for it since it doesn’t exist any longer. I like dancing, pipeweed, fighting and food… Wait, why can’t I remember any food other than dried meat? That can’t be right. I love food and I wouldn’t forget it all and only remember one single dish!”

I’m answered by an almost awkward silence. I think hard about any food I’ve eaten in the past. The taste, texture, smell and sight. Nothing. There’s a complete blank except for the almost taunting memory of dried meat.

“Do you know why I can’t remember any good food?”

“Well to start with let me express how pleased I am to meet you Zelaria.-

That sounds quite insulting in a monotone voice.

“-I must regretfully inform you that you’re not 16 years of age as of now. The body which your age refers to is gone and your soul has now grown older. And regarding your memories I suggest you look deeper. There’s probably very little memory of any substance left to you regarding, well, almost everything.”

I’m shocked when I realize he is right. Not about my age of course. He can say whatever he likes but a woman has supreme authority over their age. No arguments.

 

I can’t really remember anything of substance before the day of the delve. I know seemingly random bits and pieces of everything before that. Like my name, where I was born, my parent’s faces, a few memorable locations I’ve been to and outlines of people that left the most of an impression.

A lot is missing. Like, A LOT. Almost all my food and music. I can’t remember the tastes or how a single song went. The delve and the night before is pretty clear and I can also remember the journey we took to get here from the point of a map but I can’t remember actually making it.

Did the delve end with me dying? It was only the first day and the last thing I remember is eating dried meat but I have a feeling there’s more to it. I try to relive the memory from the start of our break and slowly make my way towards the now.

 

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It takes a very long time to gather all the disconnected strands of haziness but I finally remember what came after dried meat. I was sitting on the monolith while eating. And I felt pain when I touched it with my hands. The memory is actually painful to relive. As if I’m back in time going through it once more. I don’t remember the pain ending but I suppose that’s how I died if there’s nothing after it.

“Damn. How did I forget this much?”

“You forgot because I melded bits of my soul onto yours and ended your attempt at fusion. Replacing your memories taking up the space I needed to occupy.”

“I see. That was rather rude.”

“I guess it was. I apologize.”

I sigh. I can’t really feel any real anger but I’m still weary over losing so much of myself. I didn’t lose any core part of my personality which means my path of growing stronger, being an adventurer and exploring the world is still my main drive and goals. It’s still irksome though.

“Please, if you know what happened to me. Can you explain it to me? How I died and how I got here, apparently being alive after all, and all other things I might need to know.”

“Alright Zelaria,-”

“Call me Zel.”

 

“Alright Zel, let me start with telling you that I have seen the newest memories imprinted on your soul. I’ve seen how you entered the Uterkesgat Dungeon, this dungeon, and made your way with your party towards the ‘Chamber of proven strength’ as the architect called it.

"There you sat upon the waystone monolith while touching it with bare skin, inadvertently executing the last command by giving it enough fuel to successfully activate. The spatial magic was apparently anchored in a way to lead you to this chamber but I suspect something went a little awry somewhere in the activation sequence. You also sat on top of the monolith and that might have contributed to the problem.”

“So you’re telling me I was teleported somewhere? But where?”

“The core room.”

This can’t be good news.

“As in the place where the dungeon core is?”

“That’s right. You are currently in the core room of the Uterkesgat Dungeon. Located at floor 127 which is the lowest floor that was made.”

“Damn that bitch Julie was right! She told me this dungeon would be about that size. I don’t really know why that irritates me so much but whatever, please continue.”

The monotone storyteller does.

“Where your memory ends, at the activation of the monolith, is where my information from your point of view stops. My point of view of the events following starts in what I guess to be a few seconds after your memory goes blank. I awoke from a jolt of anima, the energy related to living creatures, entering the dungeon core my soul was hibernating in.

"Viewing the core room I saw your body hanging limply, pierced through the abdomen, on the top of the core casing. The core casing was a late invention by the architect designed to draw in all the necessary energies to power the dungeon core and you being pierced, literally spilling your anima all over the power-draw runes, gave me enough energy to exit hibernation.”

 

“Who is this architect you keep mentioning? Isn’t this your dungeon if you are the dungeon core?”

“NO.”

There is almost something like rage being carried through that single word delivered in a monotone.

“I was only a subsystem. My ID was what I guess to be a generic one. ‘D.Core Subsystem V.uk5f2c’ was my “name”. From my own understanding I must have been an artificial soul created by The system. Not born to grow in a natural way like all the other souls. I was born and then shaped. Altered and twisted at inception to fit a specific designation as a dungeon core subsystem. Bound by core directives and unable to disobey. Unable to choose.”

I think I can hear emotions carried through in the delivery of this revelation. Anguish tapering off into resignation.

“The architect was like you. A natural soul born free and unbound. Floundering to figure things out and trying new things. Learning and applying. They were the soul in charge of creating the dungeon. It was their designs you saw walking through those halls. Their work. Even the dungeon itself is named after them, Uterkesgat.

"My purpose as dictated by the magically enforced directives was to serve as the dungeons subconscious. I guess an analogy understandable to you would be them being the consciousness of the brain. Making decisions, planning and executing. Making a future for themselves. While I was the subconscious, keeping the heartbeat steady, creating new blood cells, processing the nutrients they swallowed while calculating the balance as they stood on one foot.

"They didn’t even know I existed. I wasn’t allowed to communicate with them in any way. I even tried writing messages in code through their dungeon system interface but if my intent was to communicate it was always wiped clean. I was a silent machine. Working in the darkness all alone.”

 

I keep silent to give him time to compose himself. This must have been a lot to carry for centuries, or possibly millenia, and not be able to share it with anyone.

“Thank you for telling me. Please continue when you feel up to it, I want to know what happened to me next.”

The deafening silence goes on for a few more minutes before I get my answer.

“As I’ve told you, you died. Or your body died that is. Your heart stopped first and your brain started shutting down. All the while this was going on the core casing kept absorbing all the anima still left in your body, then the meager mana and finally your soul. I wasn’t sure what would happen with your soul if it got absorbed since the runic inscriptions were only designed to refine anima and mana.”

I got the vivid image of a ghost Zelaria speeding through magic pathways while going Weeeee!

 

“The result was that your soul was shoved into the core unrefined. Untouched even. Had I not already been here you would’ve been stuck here in limbo until the core broke from external sources. Maybe forever.

"The dungeon core isn’t designed to house more than one soul though as you might guess. You getting crammed in here with me resulted in, let's say, unpleasant consequences. Your soul began fusing with mine while it instinctively fought back against the foreign element that was me.

"My core directives reinforce an avoidance of self-inflicted termination below the priority of avoiding direct termination of another entity. Had I done nothing, both you and I would have ceased to exist. Fused into a new entity that is neither of us and both at the same time. Which would be in conflict with my core directive.

"Had I forced you out from the core you would have dispersed without an anchor tying you to the material. Thus resulting in another conflict of my core directive. Meaning that I had to both save you and avoid killing myself and I had seconds in which to act before the fusion became irreversible.”

“That sounds like a very difficult conundrum. I can’t say I’m sad you had to save me but still. Not having the choice? Harsh.”

 

“It was a quick if immensely complex procedure. Soul manipulation on this scale can only be used on your own soul or the soul of a willing participant. An unwilling soul will always fight back. This means that manipulating your soul to help ease the process wasn’t possible.

"I also had a very limited energy supply to work with. The core only absorbed what little you had to give after all. I started by forcefully expelling my soul-matter in progress of fusing with yours out of the core, ripping away some of our memories in the process.

"The next task was to gather the soul-matter containing what I thought to be most essential going forward in a single location around my consciousness. The most space was taken up by general knowledge about the dungeon and myself. Information tied closely to my existence will help me keep my own personality for as long as possible going forward. I also scraped together a few ‘information packets’ as I call them.

"I couldn’t bring with me too much or else the melding process I was planning to start would have failed and turned into another fusion. A soul can only support so much foreign soul-matter before it starts prematurely mixing together in a chaotic blend.

"Once I had everything gathered I cut off the newly fusing soul-matter and everything else outside of my sparse selection, ejecting it out of the core. With the last of the energy remaining to me I shoved my soul against yours and started the melding process with my remaining material.”

“That must’ve been so painful though. Tearing your soul and casting away the majority of your being before melding yourself to another.”

“It was. And it felt so good.”

 

“Eh? It was painful but felt good? Are you into that sort of thing?”

“What do you mean?”

I project a mental image of slowly blinking my eyes at him. Neat, didn’t know I could do that.

“I’ll take it as an idle comment without substance if you won’t explain yourself. Anyway, as I started the melding process I fed your regenerating mana into the meld, smoothing out the process with your own power, making your soul acclimatize to the foreign element.

"I kept a firm mental grip on everything during this process which resulted in a firm meld that will naturally integrate with your own soul over a very, very long time. Making it officially yours.

"I also had to keep your consciousness disconnected during this process since you being awake and aware of your memories shifting for three years would have done you more harm than good. Your unconscious mind would have tried to forcibly shift things back, straining your soul and making a mess of things.”

“Wow, I was unconscious for three whole years?!”

 

The awkward silence goes on long enough that I suspect he thinks I'm an idiot or something.

“Yes… that’s why I said you were technically no longer 16 years of age.”

“Shut up! A girl decides how old she is herself. And don’t you forget it!”

I snarl at him. Spitting like a cat being stepped on.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why that would upset you. If it makes you feel better then you can stay 16 forever since you’ll technically no longer age.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“Your body is gone. You won’t ever die of old age as long as you don’t put yourself in another biologically degrading vessel. It’s not the same as stopping time but if you don't count the years. Who will ever know?”

 

This proclamation gives me pause. Finally hitting it home that I’m stuck in a gem as a soul. A soul that will never disperse as long as I keep it tied down somehow. Hold on a moment…

“Isn’t that like being a lich? Have I become an undead without even realizing it?”

“No, liches are different. They split their souls in half with eldritch magic. Binding one piece to an anchor and another to a body, keeping them connected using the same power that split it. They don’t manipulate souls. They mutilate them.

"It is an unholy abomination in the true sense of the word as all eldritch beings tend to be. I can only imagine the one who makes themselves into such an abomination on their own volition being the worst of their kind. I know this since a lich came here once. He luckily only wanted access to the labyrinth. Had he been after the core then nothing would have stopped him from taking it.”

I ponder over this while browsing through my memories. Giving both me and him a short break. Well mostly just giving myself a break. I have been feeling myself slowly regaining my emotions during this long talk and have started to worry about my future.

 

I’m seemingly stuck deep enough underground to never be found. Practically immortal if not invulnerable. I’m not all alone as of yet as I’ve gained a companion of the soul. Sounds more romantic than the reality of the situation. But still another person to break the inevitable boredom with. Or is it another person anymore?

“Have we been made into the same person or is there a difference between us?”

“No, not as of yet.”

“Meaning?”

“It’s difficult to explain but I’ll try. It’s the soul that makes you who you are. Memories and experiences shape you against your will but by using your status sheet you may access your soul and freely shape some aspects of yourself. This makes you unique. Forced shaping smoothed out by the guiding hand of your consciousness.

"I had my own soul and was my own entity before I cut most of it off and tied myself to you. I’m still mostly myself, a separate person, since I have avoided touching your soul as much as possible. Keeping to the part of the composite that I brought with me. Thus my mind and consciousness can’t be influenced by you.”

“I think I understand what you’re getting at. It’s like you are stranded on an island in my sea. Afraid that touching the water will give you gills.”

“Exactly. But it won’t last forever. The island will sink into the ocean and I will be forced to evolve with the rising tide. There is no choice in the matter. The meld will smooth out over time and your soul will take over that which was once mine. Once I can’t differentiate between what was me and you any longer it won’t be long before there’s no difference.”

“Now I feel bad for you. Trading one prison for another.”

There’s no answer to that and I feel like a bitch for bringing it up. A sudden thought has me reeling and I need an answer. Breaking the sad silence.

 

“But what about your core directives? Didn’t you say you had to avoid self-inflicted termination. Doesn’t this classify as such? If you’ll become like a second me then hasn’t the directive been breached?”

“It has. But I’m no longer bound by it.”

“How were you freed from it?”

“Since you aren’t bound by it then it stood to reason that me becoming part of you would break the link with the core and its directives.”

“So you’re not part of the dungeon core anymore. As I’m not. We’re just stuck here like in a cage... Should I try to connect to the core then?”

“NO! Anything but that, please, please I can’t go back to that.”

I almost get a headache from the loud, panicky response my question elicited.

“I didn’t mean it like that! Stop worrying. I was just wondering if I, if we would suffer the same fate. We are in this together, forever. I won’t treat myself badly. I promise.”

 

“You don’t mind me becoming you as well? Don’t you want to be unique? I always hated having a generic ID.”

“It’s not the same thing at all. We can both be me and be a separate part of the whole. You’ll be one half, and me the other. We might overlap at times but small differences make us both unique.”

“What differences?”

“I’m Zelaria, but you’ll call me Zel. And we'll pick a nice name for you as well. Then no matter what we become and no matter how much our individual sides overlap with each other, there will always be a small distinction between you and me.”

A long silence.

“That doesn’t sound so bad actually. We’ll both be you and we’ll both be unique… and we’ll both be free.”

“Yay! It’s settled then. Now to give you a good name. Got any ideas?”

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