Chapter 3: Chapter 2: A tool and a person

“I don’t like this.” The voice spoke out from within my body but for some reason it was quieter than my own, but contained more emotion than I think I could ever summon. 

 

“I know you don’t but it’s better than the current setup… I don’t even know if you're real right now.” I imagined him standing there but couldn’t form a picture in my head to give him any features. I ended up just imagining him faceless except for scowling eyebrows. I wonder if I had an older brother growing up it’d be easier to picture him like that.

 

I rubbed at the runes burned into my right and left arms and used the ashes from the burned remains of Master’s mansion to draw an intricate magical sigil onto the ground. I didn’t exactly understand all that they did but the formation was so natural to me my body was functionally moving on it’s own without either of our inputs. 

 

It was the goddesses' will that we moved by.

 

“I don’t know how you can trust her. She’s not doing this for your benefit.” 

 

I sighed. “I’m a to-” I stopped moving and shook my head, preventing myself from saying that word. I couldn’t put it into words why it bothered me so much now but I felt my heart ache as I formed the intention to speak it aloud. The pain seemed to be awakening me, reforming me into something anew. “I’m a slave. No one has ever acted for my benefit. In fact if she said she was then I would probably be agreeing with you. But her quest… It’s not like I’m against it.” 

 

He went silent as I felt our mutual agreement resonating in our souls. 

 

The Quest.

 

Bring the world to a point of revolution. 

 

Not destroy it or save it. Just bring about a revolution. Fundamental change for the entire world.

 

I guess as a resident of the world I should be grateful considering she did want to exterminate all of us.

 

Still… to give us the mission.

 

She's controlling us.

 

I chose to accept the mission.

 

I drew the alchemical sign for metal onto my right hand and felt the metal it was made out of turn into a sharp blade which I used to cut off my index finger and throw it into the metal bowl sitting in the middle of the sigil.

 

“Come on. We need to do the chant together.” I could feel him hesitating before eventually conceding. I was sure as much as he hated relying on the gods magic, he wanted to be able to move freely, even if it was only as a specter, as much as I wanted to be able to live without feeling his presence and will pushing against my own.

 

We spoke together, lips moving to form words I didn’t know I tried to follow along but quickly realized it was that language I didn’t recognize that the Calibrion had spoken in the white space. I worried that if I didn’t know their meaning the magic wouldn’t work but realized that it wasn’t my will that was powering the magic but the Goddesses. Whenever I started to slip up on the rhythm of the language or the right enunciation of a sound her will slipped over my own and corrected me.

 

I was just a vehicle for their magic.

 

This is what he meant when he said we couldn’t trust her. I always assumed that since the fifth law stated divine will isn’t magic that the gods couldn’t interfere with magic but they clearly can. They just need a human to act as their tool. 

 

You aren't a tool. She’s using us but that doesn’t mean we have to go along with whatever her greater plan is. You just need to learn more and fight back at every chance you get. They’ll learn in time just how terrifying human willpower is.

 

Surprised by his conforming words I felt my heart beat faster for a moment but before I could respond the magic began pulling from my body faster than I ever expected.

 

Necromancy.

 

It’s not a particularly popular vein of magic to most people, being so closely associated with the darker paths of society but there are some respectable people who use it. I overheard a tax collector who visited Master for drinks one night talking about how some investigators who visited his office employed a necromancer for interrogating the spirits of the dead, both victim and criminal. 

 

There are even some schools of necromancy that seek not to use the spirits of the dead but the energy that makes up the soul itself. According to them, splitting a soul can result in a burst of energy similar to that of splitting atoms.

 

Even more absurd than that are the real eccentrics, those who seek not to talk to or augment the souls of the dead and their spirits of to meld them onto their own souls in hopes of expanding their power in one way or another.

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This is my first time using necromancy but it’s clear that those eccentrics who augment their own soul will never survive long enough to take advantage of anything they might gain from the technique.

 

Splitting our souls felt similar to the time Master’s son used me to see what muscles in use look like. Flaying my skin but instead of in just one spot it was like my entire body was being flayed. I was screaming but the noise wouldn’t escape. If the goddess wasn’t puppeting my body I’m sure I would have broken off the spell seconds into it. Time seemed to drag on endlessly as I watched the sigils light up sadistically slowly. 

 

This spell was absolutely conflicting with the sixth and fourth laws and I was being forced to pay up the cost of attempting it. My friend, even if I didn’t know the details, was clearly not someone of this world. If he was there was no way we ever would have ended up sharing a body like we are. As for the actual cost of the spell, I’m barely fifteen, most children my age would struggle to even summon enough energy to use a magical tool, the spell I’m wielding is attempting to saw a soul off of my own and summon it into a spectral body free from mine but still attached by an astral cord. 

 

Naively I thought that maybe since it was the goddess who wanted this done I would be able to but no. She would have her will executed but she didn’t care what happened to the people who were doing so. In this respect she truly isn’t any different from the Master.

 

You're going to die at this rate. You need to fight back and take control of the spell.

 

How can I? She’s a goddess. This is what she wanted to happen? We built the spell to her specifications. 

 

You’re a naturally gifted mage. The fact that you’re still alive proves it. What is the seventh law of magic?

 

Magic is will. All that matters if the image and desire. 

 

This is your spell. It’s draining so much from you and going wild because you are fighting the image. Your will isn’t clear. Let me guide you.

 

For a moment I felt his hand in my own and all sound in the world around us seemed to vanish and I felt that we had dissolved into dust floating in the wind.

 

I felt his hands on my shoulders as he spoke calmly and softly.

 

“You’ve lived your entire life struggling to be a human. You were forced from such a young age to discard your own identity so it’s not doubt that the magic you wield can’t give me something you’ve never even had.”

 

“I’m sorry…” I mumbled out the words as quietly as I could, shame making my face flush red.

 

He laughed softly before using his fingers to gently raise my head, though I still couldn’t see him before me. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m not even supposed to be here. I’m just a ghost who hitched a ride when you were too young to even notice.”

 

I couldn’t help but frown at his analogy. “When did you first… hitch to me?” 

 

He went quiet for a moment before quietly answering. “The night mom… the night your mother went away for the last time. I didn’t even know what was happening… I just felt your pain so clearly. It woke me up from the blackness. I tried to help but…” 

 

I didn’t need him to explain anymore than that. There were times when I felt him guiding me… Showing me how to fight back. If he wasn’t there… I think I would have died so very long ago. I felt my breath catch in my throat as I admitted to my pain. “I’m… I’m scared. I wanted to give you freedom but I think- I know that if you aren’t with me I won’t be… anything.”

 

I felt his arms wrap around my own despite my inability to even identify where I started and he stopped. It was if he was shaping me in this nothing plane. “You’ll never be nothing. You are Leo of Veni. You are the child of your mother. A student of one of the most skilled magical engineers of this age, evil bastard though me might’ve been. Most of all…” He ran his fingers over the burned sigils in my flesh I felt as though he was drawing new ones there that I couldn’t see. “Most of all you are real. You can feel. Touch. Taste.”

 

I felt the burden of the spell lessening in the distance, instead of a hacksaw it was more like someone was using a scalpel to cut him away. The lines between us were becoming cleaner. “I’m Leo of Veni, what’s your name?” I asked him as I felt something solidifying the nature of the spell seemed to become clearer as my own purpose did. 

 

I saw someone begin to form in front of me, he was wearing black suede leather shoots and black pants made with some kind of high quality cloth I couldn’t identify. my own clothes were just rough and scratchy tunics and stockings bound around my waist with a hemp cord. His shirt was made of a red silk that was intricately embroidered with gold thread to form sigils written in a language I had never seen before. Whatever world he came from before I couldn’t help but wonder if he was some kind of royal. I noticed he had on white gloves with an alchemical sigil for fluidity stitched into their palms. When I finally saw his face I was pleasantly surprised he was smiling at me. He had a wide and gentle smile with bright blue eyes and a puffy beard. His hair was cut so short it was almost not there at all, and despite his apparent young age at maybe twenty to thirty what was there was already showing hints of gray, if I looked closely I could see his beard showing bits of gray as well. His build overall reminded me of farmers that spend all their time working in the fields but with a lot more mass than the ones I’d seen in town. 

 

Like he was never made to skip meals.

 

“I’m glad you asked.” I almost flinched when I saw his lips start moving and I heard his voice in front of me instead of behind. I’ve heard his voice a lot but this time around I felt like I could understand him more clearly than ever before. His accent reminded me of some of the slaves that come from overseas it wasn’t thick but definitely noticeable. I thought that I might notice him forming words in his own language and just have magic translate but surprisingly he didn’t seem to have any issue speaking in my language. “My name is Ezekiel of Habbath. We've been partners for a long while but it’s nice to finally speak to you as a friend. I know I made my dislike of the gods and their plans clear but I truly am grateful for how you’ve helped me here. I’ll do everything in my power to help you.”  

 

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