Corruption Cevan

Chapter 8
New Information


“Boy, you’ve made some strange friends!” Tyrassa commented as the six entered the shop.
Steve looked from Tyrassa to Blade and said, “Hey! Blade’s not that weird!”
Frost interrupted. “She wasn’t talking about…” Hides elbowed her in the ribs, cutting her off.
“Let him have his fun.” He whispered.
“Sorry about your scythe, Blade. I did what I could.” Tyrassa apologized.
“No problem.” Blade answered. “I think I actually kind of like it.”
“So what will it be this time? More daring danger and fantastic failures?” Tyrassa pressed.
“Information.” Blade replied, destroying much of Tyrassa’s animation. “I’ve got a few questions.”
“And why are they here if it’s you who possesses the gift of curiosity?”
“I seem to attract misfits.”
“You’re one to talk!” Cloack retorted indignantly, earning a smack on the back of the head from Fakyr, accompanied by the sound of Hides’ palm hitting his forehead.
“Well, what questions have you?” Tyrassa asked, moving behind her counter with a flourish of her robes.
“I believe I’ve been hit with a spell that has caused my amnesia.” Blade began. “Being the only true magical expert in all things magic with magical things…”
“I get it, I’m magical.” Tyrassa cut in.
“I figured you could have a look. I wanted to know if you could do anything to reverse it.” Blade calmly explained while Frost held back Steve from juggling more potions, Cloack and Fakyr began a heated, whispered argument, with Hides as the mediator of it all behind him.
Tyrassa, after a moment of subduing her rising laughter, nodded. “Come, where it is more quiet.” Tyrassa turned, again to the door at the back of the shop. When Blade started to follow, and the chaos of his allies subsided as they, too, took up the chase, the owner of the magic shop again turned back on them, irate and suddenly hostile. “They stay here! Don’t touch anything!”
Blade turned to them, a helpless look on his face, and shrugged. The other five watched him go, and the moment they both turned through the door frame, they resumed their initial chaos.


* * * * *


“I should eat you alive for this failure!” Screamed the master, sending cracks through the stone floor at Edge’s feet, and bringing him to his knees with the reverberations bouncing in the man’s head. “Steve was defeated, by a lone man, when you required twenty of my men! And each time, at least three came back dead or injured! How much larger will you make your avalanche of inadequacies? How much more will you disappoint me?”
As the master’s voice died away into huffs of anger and the sound of his feet hitting the ground as he paced before Edge, he attempted to appease his lord. “P-please, if I may…”
“No you may not!” Interrupted the dark form.
“M-my lord, I may… I may have a solution.”
“You have had three such magical fixes thus far! Each have failed as miserably as you! You even showed yourself to him! In a populated area! If he dealt, single handedly with a man you could not defeat yourself, what makes you think he will have mercy on you, regardless of witnesses?”
“I believe him to be ignorant! I don’t think he knows yet of the things we have done to him.”
“How long will that last? Your spell, first, did not kill him, as I told you to do! And then, it complicated our situation yet more by allowing him to live a normal life! Finally, you have the audacity to return, in failure, beaten and broken to my doorstep! My mercy has allowed you to live this long!”
“I will kill him, my lord!”
“You’d better! One more failure and I shall have to use my leverage.”
Edge blanched. “You wouldn’t.”
“You know I would.”
“You will never touch her!” Edge drew his sword in a single, fluid motion, leaped at the master, concealed in the darkness. The blackness proved no problem for Edge, as he needed not his vision to fight.
But he was reckless.
A single swat of a massive reptilian arm had Edge sailing for the wall above the door. He fell to the floor, cracks on the wall where he had hit, and nearly half the bones in his body broken.
“Leave! For this betrayal, I shall have you watched. If you fail again…”
Edge had no choice but to lift himself upon rapidly healing bones, a modification made after returning from the battle with Blade. He turned and nearly dragged himself from the darkness, the master roaring with anger and ravaging his chamber in a wild rage.
Edge knew he had come too close. Not to death, for he feared not that. Wanted it, even. He knew that the master would live up to his threat if something like that happened again.
And he would kill Edge’s kid sister.


* * * * *


Blade rose from the floor where he had fallen, tear streaks on his face. He looked up and around, recognized where he was. Tyrassa’s magical workshop doubled as her bedroom. To the right was an open flame, contained likely by magic. To the left was a desk with an assortment of tools and vials, empty and filled. Behind him was the door, and directly ahead was a hammock slung between the walls.
Tyrassa knelt beside him, watching him concernedly. “Are you alright?” She frantically asked. Blade nodded. “That was quite a fall. Not many can astral project.”
“What?” Blade asked, still disoriented by the vision that had come over him, and the utter fear and sorrow, the sense of hopelessness and of being trapped consuming him. “What did you say?”
“I said you could astral project. That’s why you fell unconscious.” She hesitated a moment. “Don’t tell me… you didn’t know?”
Blade could only shake his head, nervously. “What is this ability?”
“Few can control it, but when they can, they can thwart ambushes, destroy secret affairs, and find conspiracies that could destroy nations. What it is; the mind leaving the body and going somewhere else. Most do it because they have a mental or magical connection to a person or a place.”
Blade controlled his breathing; only now did he realize he was breathing in ragged gasps. “Can you see what’s in my mind?”
Tyrassa calmed somewhat, seeing that Blade was apparently unhurt. “Yes, but it will take some time to prepare the spell. Sit down.” She gestured to the floor, near the center of the room. Blade complied and Tyrassa grabbed a small, black rock and sat across from him, a foot of space between them. Tyrassa took the black stone and began to draw lines with it on the floor.
“What is that?” Blade asked, pointing to the stone.
“Magically synthesized coal.” She replied. Blade had no idea what coal was, so he let the subject drop. Soon, rather than simple lines, sigils and circles began to appear in Tyrassa’s drawings. It was a small area, and when Tyrassa finished there was a small circle in front of them, perfectly round with numerous symbols within and around it. Blade couldn’t even begin to decipher what any of it meant.
Tyrassa began to chant quietly, placing her hands to hover over the circle. Blade looked again to the circle and found some of the sigils glowing, and then more followed suit after that. Tyrassa chanted for many more minutes, and one by one, the symbols began to glow a bright blue. Eventually, only the circle itself remained dull, until that, too, lit up. At this point, Tyrassa went limp and stopped her chants.
Blade, thinking something wrong, reached forward and shook her arm gently. “Tyrassa?” he asked. When he got no response, he shook harder. “Tyrassa!
“What do you want?” Came Tyrassa’s voice, but not from her mouth. She remained limp, yet her words came to him as if she were still moving. “I’m in your head!”
“You’re in my…” Blade began.
“In you mind, yes. Hold still, this could hurt.” Blade suddenly felt an unbearable tightness in his back, and he arched backward, grunting, but no sound came out. Almost immediately, the pain, the tightness of his muscles went away. “You okay?” Came Tyrassa’s voice again.
“I think so. How is this…” Blade was cut off again, but not by any physical trauma.
Another barrier had been broken.


* * * * *


Blade was forced to his knees by two soldiers behind him holding his shackles. Blade felt the welts and bruises of a fresh beating, and his chest heaved with exhaustion. Another prisoner was brought before him, with hair just past his muscled chest. His thin build, Blade recognized.
Steve was forced to his knees before him.
Edge walked up to the side of the two, looking at each in turn. Blade looked at Steve, feeling an odd closeness to the man that he couldn’t place. He could see the red lines of where whips had struck Steve. The man looked young… extremely young, almost as much so as Hides.
“Sorry, buddy.” Steve apologized, in a far less mature voice than Blade remembered. “Looks like they got us.” Edge slugged Steve hard across the face, nearly knocking the poor man unconscious. Another oddity, a difference between this young Steve and the old one that Blade recognized was quite poignant.
Steve sounded sane.
He didn’t rant on about random things, and didn’t get distracted by small details. He had a solid head on his shoulders, and Blade almost admired him as he spat the blood back in Edge’s scowling face. This of course earned him another punch into the gut.
Edge backed away, wiping the blood away. He placed one hand on Steve’s forehead, and the other on Blade’s. Blade glared at him, seething hatred in his heart.
It was washed away an instant later.
Edge muttered a single word the Blade could not catch, and Steve screamed in agony as a wave of energy flooded from his head, up Edge’s arm, across his torso and down the other, into Blade’s head.
Blade had no idea how long he yelled.
When it was over, Blade slumped in defeat, broken by the pain in his still throbbing skull. What brought him back to reality was the insane cries, turning to maniacal laughter as Steve was dragged from the room.
“Remember the birds, friend!” Steve screamed between laughs. “Remember the birds!”
Edge punched Blade as he had Steve, and the memory faded into darkness.


* * * * *


Blade opened his eyes, and rose from the ball he had curled into. He looked to Tyrassa, wide-eyed and staring at him from a corner of the room.
“What…” She panted. “What are you?”
Blade had no idea how to respond. He was just as afraid as she was, but he had been that way for some time, had been allowed to ease into it. Poor Tyrassa had been exposed to it like a child tossed into a pool and told to swim when it could not.
He could do and say little to ease Tyrassa's terror, her shock at what she had just seen. But he had seen it too, Blade realized. Why was he not cowering as she was?
He rose slowly, making sure not to make any sudden moves, afraid of setting her off even further. “Tyrassa?” He knew he could say little, but decided to try anyway.
“What did I just see?” She snapped.
Blade shook his head, facing her fully. “You know I can't answer that.”
“Can't you hazard a guess?” Tyrassa near shouted. “I don't like being in the dark.”
“You think I do?” Blade snapped back. “You think I like having a week-long life?” Tyrassa bowed her head, apparently calmed somewhat by Blade's remarks. He sighed quietly, relieved that Tyrassa had finally calmed. “I can tell you what I believe to be true thus far. It's incomplete, but it's what I've found.”
“Then tell me.” Tyrassa prompted.
“I'll warn you now, it could just be the rantings of a madman.”
“We need everything we can get.” The Lamadan now had the confidence to walk the length of the room to sit in front of the fire, still magically burning. Blade sat again across from her, and told her everything that he knew.
He talked of the bestial thing that had taken him over and had threatened his friends several times. He explained what he believed was true about the barriers, and described his own theories on what had happened to him. “Whoever this Edge person is, he doesn't like me.” Blade began. “And it seems, when we fought, he locked my mind. That's why I can't remember anything.”
Tyrassa remained quiet throughout the whole thing, nodding upon occasion and listening until he was done. When he had finished, she spoke. “The barriers are true, which supports the spellcasting. You said Edge intended to kill you?” Blade nodded, not sure what her point was. “Perhaps your magical nature deflected a killing spell, or reduced its power considerably. Edge appears to be a powerful mage.”
“I think I found evidence of a battle where I woke up in the desert.” Blade offered.
“What kind of evidence?” Tyrassa queried.
“There were scorch marks on the walls, and chunks of glass in the spot where I was laying. In one of the scorch marks, there's an outline of a person that may just be Edge. I think I hit him hard with something.”
“This only reinforces these theories you have. And whether or not it's true that you're nothing but an experiment, only time will tell. We need to find more information.”
Blade nodded, worried somewhat. “What's wrong?” Tyrassa asked.
He looked up, surprised, but not unwilling to answer. “What did you unlock?” He didn't want a new entity threatening his friends as had the beast. “What did the barrier hold back?”
Tyrassa looked hard at Blade. “I'm not certain. I had to dodge that beast you described,” At Blade's shocked look she smiled. “Oh yes, he's real. And I had to avoid him. Even my might would not be able to beat back a mental you on your own home ground, and with an aggression I cannot match. But I could feel him, his anger and rage. When I unlocked the barrier, before the memory frightened me, I felt something else.”
“What was it?” Blade near gasped.
“It was an intellect, the likes of which I had never seen before. I believe to have released a psionicist of some sort. I believe that it is intelligent, which means you may be able to work with it, and even use its power to your advantage, rather than ravaging all about you with the beast.”
“You said... psionicist?” Blade asked, the word rolling off his tongue uncomfortably.
Tyrassa nodded. “You don't know what it is, do you?” Blade shook his head, almost ashamedly that he did indeed have no idea what the strange word meant. “A psionicist is a being capable of feats of the mind beyond the norm of most living creatures.”
“Define beyond the norm.” Blade prompted, believing that the description fit another companion that he had met recently. A long-haired, black clad companion.
“They are capable of moving objects, manipulating them, and forming attacks with their minds. They can enter another person's mind without the help of magic, and can even take control of them, their bodies and souls if they are powerful enough.”
Blade thought a moment. “Can they control their shadows?” He asked.
Tyrassa paused in thought. “Not usually. That sounds like a trait more associated with shadow magic, or even powerful necromancy. Possession of shadows is a very advanced skill, no matter what medium the possessor is using, whether necromancy or psionic power.”
“Necromancy?” Blade queried.
“You know very little about magical mediums, do you?”
“Mediums?”
Tyrassa chuckled. “Magical mediums are natural powers through which a magician can channel magical spells. The mediums can include the four basic elements, life and death, light and darkness or of mixes of the elements.”
“Elements can mix? But what are elements?”
Tyrassa smiled warmly, apparently glad to teach Blade. “The elements are the four most basic natural powers on our planet. They are Fire, Water, Earth and Air. Each are self explanatory, and because they are so basic, many magi who choose elemental mediums can in fact use several if not all of them in their spells. In these spells, the elements can mix, forming all new elements called sub-elements. When the sub-elements combine, they form divisions, often so numerous, no single mage could learn them all.”
“What are some of the sub-elements?”
“Some of the common ones are Lightning, Storms, Magma... There are a very great many, and they can mix to form still more.”
“So, what is Necromancy?”
“Necromancy is the use of the medium of death for spells. It usually involves raising the dead, or draining the life from others.”
“You can raise the dead?”
“In a way.” Tyrassa was quick to explain. “It is not true life. Once the soul has left the body, there is no recalling it, save perhaps divination. But you cannot reanimate the body with the soul. You use your magical energies to manipulate the corpse to do your bidding. It is an imitation of life.”
“What about Life magic?”
“The medium of Life, while you still cannot bring the dead to life, a skilled Life mage can heal most any wound, so long as the patient isn't actually dead. You can cause plants to grow extremely quickly, and in any way he wishes. He can empower his allies, and encumber his enemies by manipulating the life forces within them.”
“That sounds really dangerous.” Blade remarked.
“Indeed, and that's why there are Filates.”
“What?”
“The Filates are a division of ex-soldiers who are attuned to magic. They don't really learn spells, or magical mediums. Instead, they use their talents to find ways to combat and resist magic. They keep the magi in place, and do their best to prevent evil magi from emerging. They are not always entirely successful, but they try their best. And that's pretty good.”
“Are any in the city?” Blade asked.
“Sure, they're actually stationed most everywhere. You've likely seen a few. But,” Tyrassa rose to her feet. “We should get you back to your friends.”
Blade nodded, rising beside the Lamadan. “Actually, can I ask you something before I leave?”
“You already have.” Tyrassa replied with a wide smile on her face.
Blade rolled his eyes, and then looked to her. “I want to learn magic.” He declared. Tyrassa stared at him curiously, before nodding.
“I can teach you, but another time. I could only unlock one barrier, and you will need something more powerful to break the rest.”
“Like what?”
Tyrassa motioned toward the door. “First, let's get back to your friends.”
Blade nodded, but paused on his way out the door, following Tyrassa. He hesitated, recalling his memory involving Steve. They had seemed close, he and Steve, and he wondered what that could mean. Would he look at Steve the same way? And if they were such friends, why had Steve attempted to kill them?
He nearly had to drag his feet along the ground to the stock area behind the shop's counter to confront his friends. When he saw them, or rather, when he saw Steve, his gaze locked. He wanted to confront him, to ask him why, who, how and when, but not with so many nearby to hear. He wanted him and Steve alone, no eavesdroppers, and no co-conspirators. Just him and Steve.
With Blade's mind absent, Tyrassa explained and described all the happened in the back room. Blade, of course, didn't listen. He was anxious and fidgeted nervously beside the shop owner. As Tyrassa finished, she poked Blade hard on the shoulder.
Looking indignantly, and somewhat annoyed at the female Lamadan, Blade asked, “What?”
“You've ignored everything I've said, haven't you?” She asked.
Blade, having no good excuse, squirmed under her scrutinizing gaze. “Maybe, but it was all just what happened in the room, right? I already know that.”
“True, but I need your head here now. I need to tell you where you're to go next.” Tyrassa drew closer to the others, and motioned them to huddle closer. “But it is of utmost secrecy.”
The others, including Blade, did indeed come closer, enraptured by her animation and aptitude for storytelling. “Now, what you want is the Dartmouth Caverns.”
“What are these caverns?” Frost inquired.
“I know them.” Fakyr declared. “To the north, beyond the Sea of Shifting Sands. They are the largest cave complex in the known world.”
“And highly magical.” Tyrassa finished. “Within, you will find concentrations of magical energies that you will find in few other places. At the heart of the Dartmouth Caverns, you will find what you truly seek: a powerful relic, the likes of which no modern man has ever seen.”
“Then how do we know it exists?” Hides pressed.
“Frankly,” Tyrassa began, pausing as if for emphasis. “You don't. It's actually more of a gamble than any truth. Still, it's worth a shot. With the relic in hand, Blade's mere possession of it could break the next barrier, and unlock still more of his past.”
“All well and good, but how do we get past the Sands?” Frost asked.
“Indeed, that is a problem, isn't it?” Tyrassa ran a delicate hand across her feline head, brushing past and pressing down her ear before it flicked back up as it passed. “There may be an ancient bridge complex some distance to the west. It may allow you passage if it still stands. It is a relic of the old civilizations.”
“I saw clouds, dark ones, in that direction earlier.” Blade announced.
“The affects of the powerful magical concentrations there.” Tyrassa explained.
Blade reflected on that statement for a moment. Powerful magics had sway over the weather itself, and yet he saw no such influences from Tyrassa, or any of the Dracos, and he had been in the heart of their nation.
“I saw no such anomalies in the Dracos' realm.” He declared.
Fakyr answered that for him. “You recall the top of the mountain, covered in clouds?” Blade nodded. “That is the effect of several magi of ours, perpetually covering our most sacred spot. It prevents treasure hunters from coming, and stops needless bloodshed before it begins.”
“Prudent.” Blade complemented.
“Indeed.” Fakyr agreed.
“So,” Tyrassa began again. “A bit to the west, you should find this complex. It should present passage north, where you should find the entrance to the Dartmouth Caverns. Unless, of course, the caverns moved. It wouldn't be unheard of, what with magic and all.”
“There are a lot of 'should's' in that sentence cluster.” Hides pointed out.
“Would, could, should.” Steve sung. “Do you ever think squirrels get afraid of heights?”
“Ignoring Steve's idiocy...” Frost began.
“Insanity!” Steve indignantly interrupted.
“I think we have our directions!” Cloack excitedly declared.
“Agreed.” Blade said. “Shall we begin said journey, then? Are we just about ready?”
After a nod from everyone else, the troupe began moving out of the shop. Tyrassa moved away to help a few other customers. Blade saw his chance as. Steve skipped slowly behind, straggling as only Steve would. He snapped forward and clasped his grip down on Steve's back-swinging wrist. Steve spun to meet his gaze, and immediately his grin disappeared.
“You remember, don't you?” He asked, the second time Blade had seen him calm. The first was when he had tried to kill the man.
“What were we?”
“Almost brothers. We were very close friends.”
“Then what happened? Really?”
“I don't know how you escaped, and when I learned of it, I was elated. But then Edge told me to kill you.”
“Why did you comply if we were such good friends?”
Steve's expression grew pained, and he grimaced as if his insides were in turmoil. “I knew that you would never know peace as long as you remained outside and as long as they existed. If I killed you, you would be spared that fate, and I would get my promised freedom until I die. We would both be free, in a way. I wanted to spare you the fate of a tried and exhausting life.”
“How did you know I wouldn't remember you?”
“I felt the restrictions on you mind before I even saw you. I thought I would sense your presence, your power as I do now, but I was wrong. When I saw you, without your power, I knew something was wrong. That is how I knew.”
Blade eased his grip on Steve's wrist, allowing the two to face each other squarely. “So we were like brothers?” Blade asked, almost unable to take it in, despite his new memories backing all of this up. Why had Steve sobered up like this so suddenly? Was his insanity merely a front? Or was it, in fact, his unstable mind that had changed so suddenly?
“If not, then pretty damn close.” Steve looked up at the blade of the scythe angled downward behind Blade's shoulder. “About your weapon...”
“What is it?” Blade asked.
“When I held it, I felt something from it. I think that perhaps it has a magical entity inside.”
“What?”
“I think that your aural residue, along with the heavy and powerful spells that Tyrassa placed upon the scythe, has coalesced into an intelligence within the weapon.”
“You are certain?”
“No, not certain, but time will tell. If it's true, then it is still young, and inexperienced. We must allow it to learn to communicate before we will know for certain.”
“How long might it take?”
Steve shrugged. “Depends on the entity. Could take hours, could take centuries. I couldn't tell you even sane.”
Blade chuckled. “Your insanity likely makes you smarter than most I know.”
Steve seemed truly animated then, for in contrast to his fairly serious mask of stern resignation in the face of Blade's confrontation, he now broke down into hysterical and uncontrolled laughter, doubling over and falling to the floor. Blade joined in the mirth, but not to the same degree.
Cloack, having peeked his head through the door to check on what might be taking the two, entered at just the moment that Steve burst into his cachinnatory rampage. Blade, still smiling, but no longer chuckling, grabbed Steve by the back of his collar and dragged him, still laughing, out onto the street.
Breathing deeply and clutching his ribs, Steve rose to his feet before the rest of the companions. “So,” Hides began. “Has it occurred to anyone that we don't actually know what we're looking for?”
“The Dartmouth Caverns.” Fakyr clarified, misunderstanding.
“I meant this mysterious artifact. How do we even know the thing exists?” Hides turned to Cloack and Fakyr each in turn. “I mean, when was the last time anyone went down there?”
“That is exactly the reason it could still be there.” Cloack reasoned. “If nobody's been there to take it, it could still be waiting for an owner to claim it.”
“And say it has no owner because it has no existence?” Frost countered.
“It matters little.” Blade interrupted, ending the debate. “It's the only thing we have to go off of, and it's really the best thing you two young ones have to do.” Hides and Frost looked at each other, first as if they had been insulted. Then, as they thought about the truth of that statement – for what else could an orphan do but steal and hide? - they smiled and nodded at Blade. “You're here of your own mistake and impudence.” Blade said, pointing at Cloack. Then he turned to Fakyr. “And you really don't have much choice, so we'd best occupy you. And you...”
As Blade turned to Steve, he was again reminded of that almost painful memory. “You can't go anywhere else, can you?” Steve rapidly shook his head after digesting Blade's rhetorical question. “Then it's settled. We go to the bridge complex west of here, and then north, to the Dartmouth Caverns. Gather whatever supplies we need, and let's head out.”