Chapter 350. An Oath That Isn’t an Oath (Patreon)

Clara Belvaire’s terror was overwhelming. Ian sensed it with his decemancy and Remorse. Her body locked up, her heart raced, and her mind was frantic. He sensed her frustrating feelings of helplessness.

She had reason to fear him–Ian didn’t exactly come with peaceful intentions–but it would be best for her to calm down.

He forced her body into a meditative state, keeping her heart and lungs pumping in an unhurried rhythm. He forced her into stillness.

At this point, she rallied her mental defenses, preventing Ian from so easily gleaning her surface thoughts. Nothing could stop him if he really tried to read her thoughts, especially if he empowered his practice with ascendant energy, but he didn’t think that would be necessary.

He made Clara walk herself back into the house; he followed her inside. Her movements were fluid, not robotic in the slightest–a testament to his experience controlling his own body like a puppet in combat.

Euryphel was still in the living room. Ian had called him here using the transmission artifact. While Ian knew they still needed to be cautious in Sere, he wasn’t as fearful of being surveilled as he was in the East. Sere was too decentralized and divided. Compared to the most powerful eastern states, it was second class at best.

She’s absolutely terrified of me, Ian said using Remorse. He could speak to Euryphel mentally, but Euryphel didn’t have the same privilege as a summoned projection. Ian considered just using quantum channeling for his side of the communications, too, but rejected the idea–quantum channeling was unpleasant.

Since Maria was in her artifact form, she was able to follow Ian’s thoughts–he opened them to her.

You’re controlling her like a puppet master, Euryphel replied. What do you expect?

Maria didn’t have anything to add, but Ian could sense her unwavering support. He didn’t hide his reluctance to invade people’s houses and perform dangerous experiments on them. Especially since his quarry in this case was a regular.

He felt her sympathy and quiet approval. Ian didn’t want to harm people if he could avoid it, but Maria was well-versed in the practice. She had hurt people for the greater good too many times to count.

As Ian wrestled with his misgivings, he sat Clara Belvaire down on her couch and sat across from her in a leather armchair.

“Do you know who I am?” Ian asked. He loosened his hold over the muscles that controlled her breathing and those in her face.

She blinked rapidly and worked her jaw, then sucked in a large, shuddering breath. Her eyes fixated on the crown of embers over his head, then snapped back to his face.

Is she too shocked to speak? Ian wondered. Guys, what should I do? This will all work better if she’s a willing participant in saving the world.

I already explained the situation, broadly, Euryphel said. I don’t think she fully believed me until you showed yourself, though.

Ian continued to wait for the woman to speak.

“You’re the Skai’aren,” she murmured. Ian could sense that she’d be trembling if not for his hold on her body.

“So quick to jump to that conclusion,” Ian mused. Euryphel raised an eyebrow his way, but the necromancer ignored it. “The Skai’aren’s likeness is well-cataloged and easy to mimic. I could be a Light practitioner creating an illusion, or a master of Remorse infiltrating your mind and altering your perception. There are so many explanations that are more likely than me being here, in the flesh, in front of you. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“You’re controlling my body,” she said, breathing rapidly. “It’s decemancy. You’re a decemancer.”

“That doesn’t prove anything. Besides, a Life practitioner or even a water elementalist could theoretically control your body as I have.” Ian had never met a water elementalist who used liquid in biological tissue to control a body, but he assumed it was possible.

She looked a bit uncertain, but rejected his claims. “What you say has merit, but is ultimately inconsequential. If you aren’t the Skai’aren, and he”–she pointed to Euryphel–“isn’t the Crowned Prime, then someone is trying to trick me. Why would a practitioner, or practitioners, devote effort and time into impersonating two powerful people to deceive me, a regular with limited influence? Perhaps it might be to test my loyalty, but I don’t think so. A test like this–and the underlying lack of trust–would be more likely to alienate me from the cause to which I’ve committed myself.”

“There are people more influential than yourself, that’s true, but you have a unique role as a lead researcher on the Infinity Loop project,” Ian said. “That has a different kind of authority. In many ways, it’s a more concrete authority. It makes you more interesting to me.”

“Aside from that,” Euryphel interjected, “you are included in meetings where the imposter Skai’aren appears.”

Clara blinked. Ian could feel her trying to move her arms, probably to rub the bridge of her nose. “This conversation isn’t anything like what I expected.”

Ian chuckled. “Good. That’s what I was going for.” He sighed. “Clara–I’m not here to make you figure out whether or not I’m the real deal. I was trying to distract you from the current situation, give your mind something less frightening to latch onto. It’s worked, you know. Your mind is much calmer than earlier.”

Clara’s eyes widened. “Does that crown let you read my thoughts?” she blurted. Ian was wondering when she’d ask about that. He’d spoken into her mind earlier, after all.

“No,” Ian replied. “That power is my own.” He flashed his eyes. They glowed violet but were surrounded by colorful iridescence, almost like an aurora. Then, he spoke into her mind, projecting his power and authority but also his sincerity. “I am the Skai’aren. I am Ascendant Dunai, returned from the limitless planes of Eternity to save this world.” Every word he punctuated with feeling, with earnestness and even memories. He showed her a glimpse of Eternity, showed her flashes of him using his power. “This is the threat posed by the Infinity Loop.” This time, he shared a longer memory–one that revealed the open sky above the Infinity Loop in Selejo.

He sensed her mind recoil at the horror of millions of souls circling the city of Cunabulus in a terrible vortex of corruption, a crucible of souls.

It’s like… they’re decaying, she thought, Ian able to hear her surface thoughts now that he was in her head.

Next he shared memories of him discovering the truth of the Infinity Loop’s dangers. He had carefully prepared the sequence of memories he would show to give the full picture, starting from the beginning, when Achemiss visited his dreams and offhandedly mentioned the loop’s soul corruption to throw Ian off balance. He showed Ari’s scorn for their doomed world. He conveyed his many conversations on the subject in Eternity, each one reiterating the same message.

A world with technology like the Infinity Loop is doomed.

Ian knew that his Remorse was still fairly untrained. Sharing memories like this was beyond his capabilities, but he was able to use ascendant energy as a crutch, directing it into her head. It helped him bridge the gap between his mind and hers.

When he released her from his mental hold, he also released her body. She sank into the couch, her body limp, her eyes wide.

“Are you well?” Ian asked.

She jumped at his words. “I don’t think so. This has been overwhelming.” She took a deep breath. “I’m fairly convinced you are who you say you are, though. I don’t think someone could make all of those memories up.”

“You understand the threat of the Infinity Loop, now?” Ian asked.

“I always understood the threat,” she retorted, crossing her arms, closing in on herself. “I believed there was a way to solve the problem the loop poses. I still believe that. There must be a way.”

“If there is a way, I do not know it, and neither does anyone I know in Eternity,” Ian said.

“This isn’t the kind of technology where we use it now and figure out a fix later,” Euryphel said darkly.

Clara considered Euryphel’s words and nodded solemnly. “I understand what you’re saying. I do. But the loop technology… it offers an unprecedented opportunity–to regulars, especially. A path to power.” She smiled weakly. “Shouldn’t Ian Dunai know better than anyone what I’m talking about? You were once like me. Powerless. Looked down on. Now look at you. I bet if you wanted, you could kill everyone on this planet and no one could stop you. Not if you really wanted to do it. Power.”

Ian supposed he could probably end the world if he really put his mind to it. The key would be hiding in a rift, as Achemiss seemed to be doing.

“I understand you,” Ian said, his eyes narrowed as he gave her his fullest attention. “Practitioners are treated much better than regulars, even people with low affinities. I know. Unfortunately, I don’t think the Infinity Loop offers a solution. Its usage is extremely expensive. Very few people will ever be able to use it. It would never result in the democratization of power you seek.”

She bowed her head. “Well reasoned.”

But Ian could sense her unwillingness to give up on her hope. He knew that for Clara, this issue was personal. She had suffered as a regular in an influential family with scores of practitioners. As a lead researcher on the Infinity Loop, if she played her cards right, there was always the possibility that one day she’d be one of the lucky few chosen to undergo the loop’s trials.

Clara held onto the hope that one day, she’d be a practitioner, too. And here Ian was, telling her to sacrifice her dream for the greater good. He knew that it could appear disingenuous for someone who had, on paper, benefited so much from the loop tech to call for its end. That’s why he had shown so much to Clara. He wanted her to understand his intentions and his viewpoint.

“You want to destroy the loop technology,” Clara said slowly, “but isn’t it already too late?”

Ian and Euryphel locked eyes. “Almost,” the Crowned Prime said. “We’re almost too late.”

“But the bigger issue at the moment is the man who has been impersonating me, leading Sere further down a path of no return.” Ian sent more memories into the woman’s mind, showing her the shadowy figure of Achemiss.

“The man who first told you about soul corruption… that’s the imposter?”

“Yes. He’s come to destroy this world.”

She recoiled. “Why?”

“He wishes to live forever,” Ian said simply. “To do that, he must sever the final tie between him and mortality. His home world.”

“C-crazy,” she stuttered.

Euryphel snorted. “He is.”

“We need to kill him before he kills this world,” Ian continued. “But he’s hiding. We think he must be sheltering in a rift to avoid the fatesight of End practitioners.”

“And that’s why you’ve come to me,” Clara concluded. “You want me to be your insider.”

“Yes,” Ian said.

“I’m under oath not to reveal what I’ve seen.”

Ian gestured toward Euryphel. “You didn’t have any issue talking to Euryphel.”

She frowned. “That’s different. There is some information I’m allowed to share with certain people, mostly that pertaining to research. Anything regarding the Skai’aren and the assembly discussions, I am not permitted from disclosing in any contexts. The words cannot pass my lips and cannot be trawled from my mind.”

“We have a peak End practitioner who should be able to subvert such restrictions,” Ian said.

She turned to the Crowned Prime. “No disrespect intended, but the person who swore all of us with the most restrictive oaths is a 96% End affinity practitioner. To subvert his oath without leaving traces, someone with a 99% affinity would be a minimum. I do not believe the Selejo Imperial Federation has someone with such a high affinity…”

She trailed off when she saw Ian and Euryphel just smiling smugly.

“It won’t be an problem,” Ian said. “The bigger issue is that we want to put an oath on you–one that will protect your knowledge so that it cannot be disclosed to anyone, even Remorse practitioners.”

“Any new oath will be noticed immediately,” she said hurriedly, as though worried that they would place an oath on her then and there. “You absolutely cannot do that.”

“What we have in mind is special,” Ian said. “It’s an oath that isn’t an oath. No End practitioner will sense it.”

“How is that possible?”

“It isn’t an End oath,” Ian explained. “It’s something new.” He cocked his head. “Something that might hurt. Hence my warning when we first met.”

“Something new? Experimental?” She sounded both horrified and intrigued. “What is it? I’m not agreeing without being fully informed.”

Ian shrugged. What they hadn’t told her was that if the experiment failed, or she refused to endure it, they’d be forced to take more drastic actions, like wiping her recent memory–something Ian wouldn’t be able to do without relying on his ascendant energy, which would inevitably lead to him wiping more than he intended. That, or killing her. They simply couldn’t afford for her to leave this room without ensuring the information they had shared remained hidden.

And without irrevocably binding her to their cause. There was no room for betrayal.

The ember crown flared with light, casting Ian in a somewhat sinister light and emphasizing the pallor of his skin. “I will bind you with an oath using necromancy.”