BT - Book 1 - Chapter 63 (Patreon)

Words of terrible power fell from Micah’s tongue.  A wave of his palm distributed a spray of green fire from the gash he’d made with a sacrificial dagger.  The burning drops of blood landed on the various reagents spread around the circle, wreathing them in unearthly flames.

The deer and panther watched on with quiet indifference.  Occasionally the oversized cat would bat at the stag without response, but Micah didn’t have time for their antics.

His attention was focused on the next step of the ritual.  Triumphantly, he lifted a chalice filled with a mixture of his own blood and silver dust above his head as his chanting built toward a crescendo.  He shouted, invoking the very forces of reality in a forgotten tongue.

Wind circled around him, whipping through the leaves of the nearby trees as it whispered secrets, hinting at power that could be his so long as Micah just reached out to take it.

The bloody mixture in the chalice dissolved into a thick mist that poured forth, covering the writhing lights of the ritual circle.  Phantom noises complemented the half heard promises carried on the wind.

Micah thought he heard the sound of children crying only for the tolling of church bells to overwhelm their screams.  He did his best to put both noises aside, instead focusing on the next step of the ritual.

Sigils flared to light in the circle, glowing white and green as Micah’s wild movements directed the chaotic flow of natural energy into the runes.  One by one the symbols glow calmed the maelstorm of magic.

As the roar of the wind faded away, their light filled the clearing, drowning out the Sun.  Micah stepped into the circle, his hands hastily tracing the final temporal transfer runes onto the tree in the center of the ritual circle.

Despite his speed, Micah’s hands moved with a precision born of constant practice.  Each stroke of his burning index figure was without tremor or hesitation and seconds later the whorls and sharp angles of the symbol took shape in green flames.

He withdrew himself from the circle, noticing the subtle hints of Elsewhere fading away as the normal sounds and sensations of Karell reasserted themselves.  Taking a deep breath, Micah filled his lungs before shouting the final stanza of the spell.

His throat ached as the inhuman words tore at his vocal cords.  Vaguely, he tasted a hint of the iron as blood welled up in his throat.  Mentally he grabbed the temporal energy lying dormant in the tree and pulled, feeding the almost limitless power into the ritual.

A portal opened, its mists beckoning to Micah.  The panther growled as the stag took a hesitant step backward.  Trevor shook his head.

“That just feels wrong MIcah,” Trevor sounded like he was leagues away.  “I’m not any sort of expert, but if this is what the Church of Luxos wanted to stop, I think they might have a point.”

The snarling and gnashing face of a human man pressed through the portal, followed shortly by the giant insectoid shoulders of a locust.  A moment later the Luoca spread wide its massive wings, the air around them blurring slightly as they buzzed, cutting reality itself.

“How are these anything but pure evil,” Trevor shook his head as the daemon’s wickedly spiked scorpion tail came into view.  “Seriously Micah.  You summoned a bunch of these last time and then you were surprised when there were negative repercussions?  How can you even look at that thing and see anything except a problem in the making?”

Micah didn’t respond, his attention focused on guiding more and more of the tree’s energy into the Luoca’s reserves.  Years melted off of it as it grew smaller at a visible rate.  The daemon screamed in triumph and defiance as it stepped completely through the portal.

Maybe it was his levels in arcana, but Micah could almost see the tether of flame connecting the daemon to Elsewhere.  Deep down, he knew how easy it would be to just flip a switch and re-open the portal within himself to transfer the burning chain to himself.  Instinctively, he knew that he could sidestep all of the problems associated with establishing dominance over and maintaining the monster.

Grunting, Micah severed the tether, closing the portal with an act of will.  Immediately, he felt the Luoca’s spirit clashing with the control runes.  Images of mist and destruction flashed before his eyes as glowing sigils appeared on the daemon’s body.

“Micah,” Trevor’s voice faltered.  “Is this normal?  That thing.  It uh, doesn’t look all that happy to be here.  I thought you said this was safe?”

Before he’d stepped thorugh to Elsewhere, one or two of the Onkert had resisted, but crushing their wills with the help of the ritual was a simple matter.  They were like candles before the bonfire of uncontrolled energy pouring off of the Luoca.

The arcana skill guided Micah’s mind as he created lassos of green energy, invisible to Trevor.  They looped around the daemon, hissing slightly as they burned into its chitin.

Its muscles bulged and its wings pumped as it struggled against Micah’s control.  He clenched his jaw, tightening the ropes of energy around the monster as he began weaving another shell of will and temporal energy.

The Luoca thrashed and screamed incoherent defiance, its tail lashing back and forth before the green light burned thorugh the chitin, exposing roiling black flesh beneath.  Micah stepped forward, using his arcana skill as the fulcrum for the lever of his raw will and emotions.

He took a single step foward, a snarl escaping his bloodstained lips.  The daemon struggled, but an invisible weight forced it to its knees.

Another step forward brought a gush of black ichor from the eyes and ears of the Luoca’s human face.  Trevor paled and ran for the edge of the clearing.

“I know what you are,” Micah hissed, his eyes flaring.  “I’ve been what you are.  Nothing but hunger and mist given shape.  You are empty.  An animal.  And you will submit.”

One of its locust legs snapped, ichor dripping form the wound onto the grass of the clearing.  Each drop leached the life and greenery from the plants, transforming them into twisted brown parodies of themselves.

“Enough,” Micah hammered the daemon with his will, “resistance.”

Something broke in the Luoca.  Where the green ropes of ritual energy had struggled to find purchase before, now they dug into its body with ease.  One by one the runes and sigils carved into its chitin deepened and flared to life.

Micah sighed, wiping the sweat from his forehead.  His body was soaked from the exertion, but a smile blossomed on his bloody lips as a quick check revealed that he hadn’t developed a vortex of Elsewhere energy inside himself.  Better yet, there was no tether of flame between him and the daemon.

Even with only one daemon summoned, he could feel that he was approaching his limit, but Micah didn’t care.  He had a Luoca and he’d managed to do it without compromising who he was.

Triumph on his face, Micah walked up to the cowering daemon.  A single augmented mending fixed its shattered leg.  Regeneration followed draining Micah of a good portion of his mana.  One by one its remaining wounds began to seal over.

Trevor walked back toward him, still pale and with eyes bleary from uncontrolled retching.  Micah stepped away from the injured daemon and smiled at his brother.

“What in the name of the Sixteen was that?” Trevor’s eyes didn’t leave the ichor stained Luoca.  “I thought it was dangerous and unnatural when you summoned it.”

“That portal,” Trevor shuddered, his eyes closing against his will.  “It was wrong in a way that defied words in and of itself.  Now that i’m looking at this… abomination… you’ve summoned.  It isn’t any better.  Whatever in the hells that is, it wasn’t meant to walk the face of Karell.”

“It isn’t meant to walk Karell,” Micah shrugged, glancing at the recovering daemon.  “It doesn’t come from around here and the gods have a very mixed relationship with the place it does come from.  That’s why it’s necessary to bind its will.  So long as it is under my control, I can prevent its instincts from taking over.”

“Oh good,” Trevor threw his arms up in the air. “You’re summoning ravening beasts that are contrary to the will of the Sixteen and assuring me that so long as you keep it on a tight leash everything is just fine.”

“It’s not contrary to the will of the Sixteen,” Micah replied, crossing his arms.  “They’ve literally informed me that they’re okay with me summoning daemons so long as I’m careful about it.

“Micah,” Trevor was practically laughing as he shook his head.  “Can you name a story where it was the good guy that summoned dangerous daemons far above his level and tried to assure people that ‘so long as he kept a close eye on things’ everything would be fine?  That doesn’t work Micah!  Nature finds a way!”

“It’s better than last time,” Micah responded.  “My thoughts and emotions ended up blending with the daemons.  I was able to control them easier, but I changed.  I became more like them than they became like me.”

“How does ‘I already screwed this up once’ make this any better?”  Trevor practically shouted the question.  The buck snorted its agreement.

“Even the animals agree with me Micah,” Trevor motioned at the disapproving buck and the panther as it tried to hunt a rabbit through the underbrush.

“It’s not all that different from the affinity rituals,” Micah walked over to the deer and began scratching the fur on the scruff of its neck.  “Any ritual involves using raw magic and power.  If a casting goes wrong, it can be catastrophic.  That’s always been the case.”

“Please,” Trevor steepled his hands, begging Micah.  “Just don’t do this again.  I’m twenty paces from that monster and I can feel it warping nature itself from here.  I know we need help to fight the Durgh, but if that thing would have escaped it could have done as much damage to Basil’s Cove as any invading army.”

“You’re not wrong,” Micah flashed a bitter smile at his brother.  “I learned my limits by fucking up and overstepping them.  One Luoca won’t push me past what I can control.  If I tried to summon a second, or a lower order daemon?  That’s a different question.  I know better than to risk it.  There’s too much at stake for me to chance an unforced error like that.”

“As long as we’re on the same page,” Trevor sighed, giving up in the face of Micah’s stubbornness.  “Ok, you’ve enhanced both of our affinities by a point each and summoned some sort of abomination that should not walk the face of Karell.  What next?”

“We’re pretty close to the final phase,” Micah shrugged.  “I need you to get us into a couple of dungeons.  We’ll raid our own share at night when there isn’t anyone around.  At least for another year, there isn’t much to do but grind levels and skills until I turn sixteen and join the Lancers.  We’re probably only a couple months from the animals evolving.  That’ll certainly help too.”

“You’re going to join the Lancers?”  Trevor asked, raising an eyebrow.  “Why in the hells would you want to do that?  I like the Lancers but it just sounds to me like they’d slow you down.”

“When I turn sixteen,” Micah smiled faintly, “they’ll have a promising team available for a rookie adventurer to join.  We’re going to need more than just you, me, the animals and a daemon if we want to fight our way into the khanmoot.”

“Are you sure?”  Trevor glanced at the mass of otherworldly energy and menace flexing its wings beneath the newly shortened tree.  “This sounds like it might just be about meeting that Jo girl again.”

“Maybe,” Micah laughed as the stag inclined its head so he could scratch behind its ears.