Serenity was about to shift to his dragon form when he stopped himself. Why should form matter? There was absolutely nothing physical about Essence, and his dragon form didn’t have any sort of physical way to manipulate it anyway. There wasn’t anything in the stories he knew about dragons still having their breath weapon in human form, but there also wasn’t anything saying they didn’t. The stories weren’t about that sort of detail, after all.
Serenity wasn’t sure where to begin. He tried pulling Essence from his pool and concentrating it near his mouth and throat, but that didn’t seem to do anything. Maybe he needed to do something to it? He tried squishing it together then pulled it into a longer shape and twisted it. He wanted to draw out a spellform for it to follow, but he wasn’t doing a spell. He was trying to activate a racial ability he didn’t know how to use; that ought to be simple once he found the trick, but until then he wasn’t sure where to begin.
Serenity looked over at Katya to apologize. Out the window beyond her, Serenity saw the apartment complex where he’d fought the Hegemon Worm Queen. If they were going where he expected, they shouldn’t be anywhere near that apartment complex. The surprise made his breath catch, and instead of saying anything he coughed.
The cough carried some of the Essence he’d been trying to use. It shaped itself into a ball as it collapsed in on itself, flew towards Katya, and impacted on her shoulder. She jumped as it splattered, but it left only a slight scorch mark on her clothing.
Katya stared at it. “Huh.”
“Sorry about the shirt.” Serenity wasn’t certain how to continue. “That was the best I could come up with.”
“It definitely wasn’t a spell. There was no mana.” Katya rubbed the scorch mark; the fabric seemed more dirty than damaged. “Huh. I want to see that again, under more controlled circumstances.”
It was just an unformed spell, wasn’t it? It was built with Essence instead of mana, but for an unformed, collapsing spell that shouldn’t matter much. “Why?”
Katya rubbed the mark a bit more. It seemed to be coming off more easily than Serenity would have expected. “It didn’t damage the shirt, at least not the way I’d have expected. I’ll look at it more later.” She leaned towards Red. “How much farther?”
“We’re in the parking lot. I’m looking for the area where the cars were damaged now; I don’t know if it’ll be marked off or not. You can see magic, too?” Red didn’t turn to look at Katya, but it was clear who she was talking to. “It’s too bad I didn’t know that earlier; we could have talked about it on the drive. I really want to understand how you do that.”
“I got it with my first Mage Path. It’s really common. You don’t have a Mage Path yet?” Katya tilted her head in annoyance. “Then why do you ask all these questions?”
“I still don’t know what a Path is. Why would I accept what I don’t understand? Especially not something that will give me a skill without understanding what goes into it. That’s not my skill, that’s just a tool. I use tools, I don’t want them to use me.” There was venom in Red’s voice as she slowed down and looked both ways, clearly unsure about which direction to turn. “Since you two have it, could you put that mage sight to use and tell me which way to go?”
Serenity got the distinct impression that Red’s real problem wasn’t that she didn’t understand it; it was that she didn’t have it and wanted it.
As he looked around, there were few signs of magic on his side of the vehicle. “I’m not seeing anything.”
“There’s something odd over there.” Katya pointed ahead and to the left, away from the mall building itself. “I can’t tell what it is, but there’s definitely residue.”
Serenity turned to look. She was right; there seemed to be a large greenish-black lump on the asphalt where she pointed, and it glowed a similar color to his manasight. As he watched, it seemed to move a little. Was there something alive in there?
Josaiah woke up with a terrible headache. It was only 2 AM and he’d only had about half a night’s sleep, but there was no way he was getting back to sleep with such a terrible headache. He’d been thinking something was off for a few days, but now he was certain; he was coming down with something. He hadn’t had a headache this bad since the last time he was blackout drunk, but this time he was confident he hadn’t been drinking.
Maybe he should see a doctor about it? Headaches this bad couldn’t be normal.
No hospitals. No doctors. Everything is fine.
The words seemed to echo in Josaiah’s mind, but they made sense. He was just imagining it; a few painkillers or maybe a drink and the pain would go away.
So he tried both.
It was hours later when the world in front of Josaiah seemed to blur and he saw an indistinct, blurry dark shape. It was-
It looked different; before, it had been a giant worm, the most wonderful worm in the world, who spoke through the man who gave his life so it could live. It was above him in all ways and he served-
No. You are yourself; you choose who you serve. Neither above or below.
It was comfort, it was warmth, it was his guiding light-
No. You must find your own Path. That is always the way. You need not be alone; fellow travelers should be welcome, but your Path is your own and no one else’s.
Josaiah was never certain how long he spent talking to the dark shape. What he knew when it was over was that he’d been played for a fool by a giant worm. He looked back at the past weeks and realized how much of his time had been spent doing nothing more than worshiping it; his attention had only been for the worm any time he was not busy with something else until only a few days before.
He hadn’t even watched any of his favorite shows! They had seemed pointless.
The dark shape had set him free from that. He somehow knew that it could have tied him in the same knots as the worm had, since the worm had led the way, yet it had chosen not to. He could only hope his mind was his own again. He wasn’t certain he’d ever quite believe it again.
Of course, that was assuming it wasn’t all a hallucination brought on by mixing ibuprofen and alcohol. He’d never had one before and he wasn’t even sure that could cause hallucinations, but it did all seem a blur and it didn’t really make sense. Maybe it had been a dream?
Either way, it was enough to get his attention. What could he do to prevent his nightmare from becoming true?
Josaiah was still thinking about that when he arrived at the mall two days later. He hadn’t come to a conclusion, but he’d been watching the news again. The giant worm’s death a few days earlier was far too close to his nightmare, and it was just down the street. The news didn’t mention anything like the helpful black cloud, though, so maybe it was just coincidence. Maybe his nightmare had been based on seeing the news report?
Whether it was coincidence or not, Josaiah had plans to ask about ways to protect his mind when he went into the Tutorial. The nightmare was simply too real for him not to want that when magic was apparently possible. Even if the nightmare was just that, mind control was terrifying and seemed all too possible now.
Once he got out of his car, Josaiah headed towards the normal side entrance. It was the fastest way to get to the restaurant he worked at, and-
Josaiah tripped only a few steps away from his car. He’d missed seeing the pothole. He knew it hadn’t been there before; they’d actually redone the parking lot only a month before, and even before that it hadn’t had any potholes this big. It was like it’d jumped up and caught his foot, but that was ridiculous.
As he started to get up, Josaiah’s hand splashed into another pothole. He looked and realized why he hadn’t seen this one; it was the same black color as the asphalt. He looked at it in terror as the black seemed to sink into his arm and start climbing. As it climbed, his arm seemed to swell and something sickly green and fuzzy followed the black.
After a moment of fear, he felt the pain. It wasn’t just climbing, it was dissolving his arm! Josaiah’s voice screamed once, then cut off as the black rapidly advanced to his throat. He couldn’t even breathe.
No. No. This wasn’t happening.
Yessss. You will be a good host. Not the best, yet you have devoted yourself to dissolution in the past, that is close. Closer than the last one I caught, he did not last long at all. Only minutes of his life and I was reduced to eating the pavement. I knew another would come, and you will be MINE.
Josaiah couldn’t see. The pain consumed him in the darkness. It felt like something was attacking his mind now; only the pain was there and the pain was everything. If he gave in, the pain would end.
Yet a phrase ran through Josaiah’s mind.
You are yourself; you choose who you serve.
It was like the phrase was etched into his spirit. He hadn’t chosen this thing. It was so clearly an accident that he’d even run into it. He would not serve it.
You WILL follow me. This is not different from losing yourself in alcohol to blur the pain. I am the final blurring, the decay of everything. All that has hurt you shall rot away.
It was tempting, and yet something told Josaiah that it was a betrayal of himself. He needed to follow himself, not the first thing that told him it was better than him.
Why do you not give in? I have rotted your morals, I have decayed your idealism. I see. It is your sense of self-worth. You are not worth anything, you are merely a shell to be consumed until it crumbles. Until you are mine.
The thing’s words were not simply words, they were knives. No, they were worse than that. They were tiny toothed mouths, nibbling at who Josaiah was and who he believed himself to be.
Following the thing was no longer tempting. It seemed inevitable, but Josaiah would resist as long as he could. He was himself.
All he could do was endure. The longer he endured, the more annoyed the voice in his head became. It varied its attack time and time again. Time after time he thought he was going to lose, but somewhere deep within himself he found the strength to be true to himself and not give in.
He knew he couldn’t save himself. He could only hope that he would be found in time.
In the deepest part of his mind, the thought came to him. The dark cloud had saved him once. Was there a chance that it could save him again? How could it even know he was in trouble?
It wasn’t quite a prayer. Josaiah had never been a man to pray. Still, it was a fervent hope.
Please help me. Please.
Anyone.
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