The weight of magic, p.28
The Weight of Magic, page 28
part #1 of Restriction Series
“Which way should we go?”
“They go west.”
Though he suggested west, Visthor had paused and was looking to the north. There was a strange look on his face that Torian couldn’t readily identify. “Should we go after them?”
“We go,” Visthor finally said.
“What’s in the north?”
“Pain,” he said.
They took the road heading to the west. Visthor whistled, which drew some of the wolves back. Torian couldn’t really explain the relief that he felt at the return of the wolves, only that he was thankful that they’d come back. It was strange to feel that way as he had not thought that he would want the wolves, but given all that they had done on behalf of them, he couldn’t help but feel as if the wolves were more than useful, especially if they were to run into a more run of the mill danger.
It was near midday when they found a small grove near the side of the road.
The landscape had been mostly rolling hills, though had many trees, if not quite so many as what he had known when he’d been with the wagons. The trees had thinned quite a bit, though there were still enough that they had some cover. The grassy clearing they happened upon felt different.
“This is burial ground,” Visthor said, his voice a whisper. “We stop.”
There was no reason in Torian’s mind for them to stop at a burial ground. If nothing else, he would have suggested that they keep moving, not that they decide to stop. Visthor ignored him and took a seat in front of the grass, legs crossed and hands resting on his legs so that he looked as if he were bowed in prayer. Torian couldn’t help but watch, wondering what it was that had made Visthor want to stop and wait here like this.
“How do you know this is a burial ground?” he asked in a whisper.
“Look at markers,” Visthor said.
Torian shifted so that he could get a better view at what Visthor pointed at, though he couldn’t see anything more than a few boulders that were just visible above the grasses. Torian tried to create a primary pattern that would push on the grasses, but when he did, Visthor looked over at him with irritation, so he cut off. There was no reason to anger the other man.
Instead, they just sat.
Torian breathed in slowly, and after a while, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something strange in the air. Maybe it was mostly his imagination, but there did seem to be an energy.
He’d never been a spiritual person. In Sarot, there were some families who were far more spiritual than his had been, so Torian had been surrounded by people who tried to celebrate the gods, but their family had always been more… practical, he supposed. Torian had never really considered it, as he had not been raised to view the gods as anything other than a superstition.
That didn’t mean that he didn’t see a possibility of a higher power.
Far from it, in fact. Time in school and working with the magic that he used had made him aware that there had to be something more in the world than he could see. The powers he barely touched upon to manipulate were a testament to that, though he wondered if he would continue to feel that way were he to be able to reach for even more power the way that some of the higher-level sahir were able to do. Torian could imagine that he would start to see the world differently if he were able to draw upon more power than he had on his own.
While sitting here, he rested.
That wasn’t the intention, as he suspected that the only reason that Visthor had taken the break was so that he could sit and celebrate whatever it was about this place that he thought that he needed to, but fatigue and time on his feet got the best of him.
Torian found his breathing slowing, then he drifted.
It was a strange experience, though, as he was somehow aware that he drifted. It seemed as if he were floating, separating from his body as if some force were trying to pull him away. Torian fought against it, straining to stay with his body. There were stories of powerful sahir who could project themselves and even terrible stories about evil sahir who would pull others free from their bodies to use the life force within them for their dark purposes.
The pull on him continued to build, which was strange as Torian was aware that he was asleep and dreaming.
It might be a dream, but that doesn’t mean that there isn’t something wrong.
That thought stayed with him, piercing through everything else and getting down through the depths of what he’d been feeling. Something was wrong.
A force attempted to pull him free.
I need to wake up.
That he knew that he needed to awaken was more of the same strangeness.
How could he simply force himself awake?
Whatever pulled on him was a power that he’d never felt before, but it was a considerable force that worked at him. Torian couldn’t ignore it, though some part of the power seemed as if it tried to make him ignore it.
Straining, he found that he managed to pull himself back, but it was difficult to do so. Then he was in his body, but even then, he wasn’t safe. There was still a drawing on him.
Visthor remained with his legs crossed in front of him, saying nothing as he sat transfixed. Maybe praying the way that Torian had believed at first, but increasingly, he thought that what was happening was something else entirely.
Maybe Visthor had stopped here because something had pulled on him as well.
Torian had to move.
Only… he couldn’t.
His arms and legs didn’t work.
His mind, however, did.
And he focused on the power within him.
That was what he had to find a way to reach so that he could shift some of that power and get access to the energy that he knew was a part of him, but getting down and into that weight was difficult as he’d just drawn on it in a way that left his pathways raw and aching. Now that he tried, he didn’t know if he’d be able to pull on it as well as what he needed under the danger that he now felt.
And it was a danger, but it was one he’d never faced before.
Torian strained at that weight.
That was the key to escaping, so he pushed on it, trying to find some way of moving the barricade to access more power.
“Visthor,” he said, trying to get the other man to wake up, but he wouldn’t. He had not moved, and regardless of what Torian might do or say, Visthor still had not done anything. “I need your help.”
He tried pushing on that weight, forcing it off to the side, knowing that the only way that he was going to get out of this would be by drawing upon the power within him and straining to do so. As he struggled with it, he felt that drawing sensation working against him once again. It pulled in a way that felt strange and painful and dark in a way that Torian couldn’t even quite explain. Some aspect of it was almost slippery, oily, as if he had traced his hands through grease.
Torian continued to fight, but increasingly, he started to wonder if it was even going to make a difference. Everything that he did to try to resist what was coming seemed to oppose him, regardless of how much he attempted to combat this force on him.
Then he saw movement nearby.
He couldn’t move against it, but the strange movement looked as if the shadows themselves started to swirl together. It started to slither, snakelike, gradually making its way toward him. Torian struggled helplessly, fighting against whatever it was that held onto him, and could not get past it.
The weight.
The only way that he was going to figure out a way to get through this was by shoving the weight out of the way, past it, so that he could find the power beyond, but even as he attempted to do so, he could not feel that weight shifting.
The shadow started to thicken, moving closer.
Everything in his body told him that he needed to move as quickly as possible, screaming out a warning to him. As much as he wanted to call upon that power buried within him, Torian could not shift that weight off to the side and could not do anything, though he knew that he needed to do so. Otherwise…
The shadows started to congeal.
They weren’t shadows at all. It was smoke of some sort, and it was slithering toward him. That was the oily sensation that he had detected, and that was what started coming toward him now. Torian strained against it, but it did not work.
And if it wouldn’t, Torian feared what would happen to him.
Chapter 32
CHASING DEMONS
The shadows formed something almost humanoid, with arms and legs and a head, but there was a tail and wings, making it look like some sort of demonic creature the way priests of the Saith claimed existed, a way of reclaiming power that had been misused.
Torian had to remind himself that he was not a spiritual person. He did not believe in demons.
What if demons believed in me?
How did the church claim to dispel demons?
That thought lingered with him, and as it did, he realized that he didn’t have an answer. The church claimed that the only way to get past demons was to banish them with light. And if he could summon the lantern beam pattern, he might be able to conjure enough light that would push it away.
Panic made his heart race.
Panic was good. In this case, at least.
And in the past, when he had felt that panic, Torian had managed to find the strength necessary to heave that stone buried inside of him. Now that he felt the strange demonic presence coming toward them, he tried to find a way to force that power through him, attempting to shove some part of the weight away. It was there. He knew that it was, and then…
A crack.
That was all he needed.
Once that crack had formed, Torian began to pull on some of that power, forcing it out into the pathways inside of him. His pathways burned from the power that he had drawn while facing the soldiers, but he ignored the pain. He let that power flow through him, into his hands.
A pattern wasn’t enough. He needed strength.
And shouldn’t he be stronger with everything that he had done lately? He had learned how to push on that heaviness inside of him to find a way to free more power. Even doing that, the weight inside of him had not changed.
Maybe I did.
Torian pushed.
The demonic form continued to come toward him, slithering in the shadows. It seemed as if the dark wings fluttered, the tail twitched and twisted, and something akin to barbs began to point toward him, though that might be only imagined.
He shoved as hard as he could.
The weight shifted. As soon as it did, power flowed through him. He had to work quickly, as he did not know how long that power would last for him. Hopefully, long enough.
A burst of bright and vibrant energy streaked away, shooting all around him so that it radiated like he had formed the lantern beam. There was no control over it. It was simply the power inside of him that exploded. Torian did not want to release all of it, though, as he had also learned that if he could hold onto some of it, he might be able to trap it inside of him and use that residual energy to strengthen himself for when he inevitably grew tired.
The shadow slithered away, pushed back. The pressure that was on him, trying to drag some part of him away, began to dissipate, fading. Torian slowly tamped down on the power, not letting it out from him, and held it inside of him. In doing so, he found that he did not pass out as he had before.
He stood for a moment, looking around, thankful that he could move again.
Visthor still had not moved. He was resting with his legs crossed in front of him and for all intents and purposes, looked as if he were praying to the burial ground. Torian moved closer to him carefully and turned so that he could face Visthor. He focused on that power inside of him. He still had it building inside of him in a way that was ready to burst, and so as he held onto it, he tried to push some of that out toward Visthor, but it didn’t work.
Torian pressed his hands together, quickly forming the first-tier pattern, and then he let that energy out through his fingertips so that they began to glow with the pale white light of the lantern beam. The first-tier pattern was strong enough that it seemed to jolt Visthor awake.
He sucked in a sharp breath.
“What happen?”
“I don’t know,” Torian said. He turned, still holding onto the lantern beam pattern, though it was not bursting with as much energy as it had been before. Still, he had some of that power inside of him, and he did not want to release the rest of it. “Some sort of a demon. I sat next to you, and then I drifted off. It felt as if something was pulling on me. I know how that sounds, and I’m sure that you’re going to say that I am nothing but a scared—”
“Soul sucker. They use burial ground. Draws upon the dead.”
Torian looked off toward the burial ground, and though he still didn’t see any sign of the shadow of the darkness that had been there, there was a part of him that still felt the fear that he might come across again.
“What can we do about it?”
“Nothing. We lucky to live. Perhaps you my lucky charm.”
“I used light. Something that my people once believed. They talked about demons and how they were scared of the light.”
“Demon do fear light. For good reason. Light burns dark.”
“Well,” Torian began, as he wasn’t exactly sure what else he could say, as the idea that demons were real, whatever form this might have been, left him terrified. “Can we get going now? I don’t know what’s happening here, and I want to get away before this soul sucker returns.”
“Good idea.”
Visthor slowly stretched and then got to his feet, studying the burial ground.
“What is it?”
“These burial grounds are sacred,” Visthor said. “Must give respect.”
“Why? It’s not your burial ground?”
“Burial grounds are all of ours.”
“I see.” Though he didn’t.
They started walking, but after they reached the end of the burial ground, Visthor paused and then made the symbol of the Saith on his chest, pointing his finger to each of the points on the triangle while also murmuring something under his breath that Torian couldn’t understand.
“Is there any way that I could remove the soul sucker?”
He knew the idea was preposterous, as it didn’t seem to him that there was any way that he could do anything about a power like that, so when Visthor turned to him, a bit of hope in his eyes, Torian immediately regretted what he had suggested.
“You would do this?”
“Well, I suppose I don’t want somebody else to wander past here and get caught by a soul sucker. Honestly, I have no idea how we got caught by the soul sucker.”
“You powerful. They drawn to you.”
“What about you?”
“I praying.”
“But it didn’t seem to me like the soul sucker was leaving you alone. It seemed to me almost as if the soul sucker was just as drawn to you.”
“I praying,” he said again.
Torian wasn’t sure if that was the whole story or not, but at this point, he wasn’t about to push it with Visthor.
“What is it that I can do?”
“You have light?”
“I do.”
“Do you have fire with light?”
“Well, that’s a more complicated application of the second-tier patterns, but I suppose that I do have some access to fire. It’s not really a strength of mine.” Working with light was just one aspect of the spectrum on which fire existed, but Torian had never fully mastered fire, as fire was a complicated construct. It required control, something that Torian had generally a reasonable amount of, but it also required understanding the way that fire burned. “What you want me to do with fire?”
“Burn.”
“Okay. So what am I burning?”
Visthor pointed to the burial ground. “All of this.”
Torian turned, taking a deep breath as he contemplated what he could do if anything. He understood the concept here, but he also didn’t know if he would have the necessary control to keep it regulated without burning beyond the burial ground. When he said as much to Visthor, the large man grunted.
“You not burn beyond,” he said.
“But fire won’t be contained.”
“You not burn beyond,” he said.
“I don’t know if you are trying to tell me that I shouldn’t, that you won’t let me, or that I will somehow get in trouble—”
“I telling you that the burial grounds not let you. You will not burn beyond. There are aspects to burial ground that will keep it. You do this. Soul sucker no like it.”
Torian took a deep breath, and he focused.
Some of that residual energy remained inside of him, which was unusual. Some of that shifted stone weight remained, as well. It was almost as if he had slid that heaviness to the side rather than heaving it upward, which formed something of a crack that permitted power to spread throughout him with greater strength than he had before.
“Well, if we burn down the forest around here, I’m going to blame you.”
“I accept blame.” He bowed his head at Torian as if making some sacred vow.
Torian began to focus on the second-tier pattern and added the fire modification to it. Most the time when he was working with the second-tier patterns, he stuck with the basics. The core patterns, as they were considered. And the lantern beam pattern was one of the most basic but one of the most essential, as well. Adding fire to the lantern beam pattern was a modification that he didn’t know if he could do very easily.
It wasn’t so much a matter of reaching for the strength within him this time, though. Traditionally, that was his biggest issue. Now that he had that weight pushed off to the side, creating the crack so he had access to that energy, he had only to focus on the pattern. It made it that much easier for him not to worry about how he was going to gain access to the power that he needed.
