Redemption Arc 67 (Patreon)

As Lucian looked up upon the avatar of the First Emperor in this journey through time, he felt infinitely grateful that he’d grabbed the Formless Essence before this guy had come up from behind with the steel chair. His brain worked to process things even as his body prepared to flee.

If he’s here in that form, that means he uncovered the alternate way to travel back through the past. If he did that, he’s probably from… the future? The First Emperor wouldn’t dare leak any information if that was the case.

“State your name.” After repeating his earlier request, the First Emperor held up his hand. Dark magic coalesced out of nothingness in an all-too-familiar animation. There were many spells in War of Four. Only one required a pure 100% affinity, and it was a spell unique to the First Emperor.

Abyss.

Lucian immediately shifted to the form of the True Divine Beast and leapt backward as fast as he could. He tried to bound on the walls encircling the pool and leaped to safety, but before his legs had even been able to jump dark magic closed like the gates to a fortress. He looked around, and saw that the whole area was encircled by a darkness far more absolute than that which permeated the Hells. The old man walked out of the darkness in front of Lucian.

“Name,” he said once more.

Lucian braced. The Jeweled Eye was a subject of much scrutiny in War of Four. People had endeavored to ensure its safety long before Rowan attempted to use it. The only thing Lucian had exposed was his soul, coming here, and not even the whole of it. But still… what would happen if he fell?

I’m in the form of the True Divine Beast, Lucian thought, trying to assure himself. Surely he’s no pushover. Maybe I can stand up to him.

Lucian tried to say something to the effect of ‘Guess who I am,’ but foolishly forgot he was in the form of an animal. He only let out a strange animal noise. His opponent’s eyes narrowed. Lucian braced, prepared to test himself against the magic blocking his exit. The moment he lowered to jump high—

Pain. Lucian rolled backward, feeling nothing but pain. His back slammed against the far wall—it was immovable, and he stopped there. His vision danced, but he looked down at himself to figure out what was happening. The foreleg of this divine beast form… it was being eaten away by dark magic. It writhed up him like worms, eating away all with no discrimination.

“Shift back and speak, or I’ll let it eat all of you,” the First Emperor said, standing over Lucian.

Somehow, Lucian didn’t feel that making himself weaker than he already was would be a good call. Still, he was rather cornered, and the pain was utterly unbearable. He thought that holy energy might curb it, but feared that using it might make the First Emperor curb him, perhaps via a curb stomp. He shifted to his mortal form, which was now missing an arm.

The First Emperor lifted his hand, and the worms of darkness returned to him. “State your name. Or have you forgotten it?”

His breathing heavy, Lucian looked up at the First Emperor’s avatar. Forgotten it? Was that just banter, or something deeper? Either way, it seemed this freak didn’t know who Lucian was. That meant his identity had been preserved into the future, ostensibly.

As Lucian lost himself in thought, the First Emperor flicked his hand down and the worms descended back on Lucian’s flesh. He writhed, screaming in exaggerated agony to give himself some more time to think. He continued to scream even after the worms had been taken away from him. They did hurt like a bastard, but he was hamming it up to eleven.

Lucian came up with a plan. He wasn’t quite sure if it was a good one, but a long time ago his uncle had told him something. The man was a strategy nut like him, and because of that, constantly thought about military situations and ridiculous scenarios like torture.

If it’s gotten to the point where they’re torturing you, don’t spill a word, his uncle had said. Because by that point, you’re already a dead man in their eyes. Keep all of the information that you have locked up inside your head. Hold on to your spite and anger and deny them. The longer you hold on, the more chances there are of rescue. And a thin chance is better than no chance.

It certainly wasn’t a bright and sunny outlook, but Lucian clung to those words. Thing is, he knew he wouldn’t last if he was tortured. He wasn’t anyone special. But then, when demonic energy started to leak out of the pool behind, Lucian knew his chance would come. Because if the timeline proceeded as it always did, things were about to get chaotic.

The avatar of the First Emperor looked backward briefly when demonic energy started to seep out. Lucian took the opportunity to shift back to the divine beast form and leap forward with its hind legs as quickly as he could manage. The First Emperor raised his hand and concentrated dark magic, but when it burst out a demon erupted from the portal and took the hit. It did no damage.

Lucian’s only hope was using these people, trapped in time, as a shield. Just as Lucian couldn’t affect them, the First Emperor couldn’t, either.

Lucian slammed into the body of a demon as it erupted from the now-unsealed portal. It surged upward, and he awkwardly clung to it with three limbs and his jaw. It burst free of Abyss, and Lucian felt some triumph. Was he going to get away? He looked back down to spot the First Emperor. A spear of darkness rose up toward him and—

***

Lucian awoke suddenly with a howl of pain. Evidently he frightened everyone in the room, because they all jumped and looked toward him. He touched his head, his eyes—the spot where he’d felt the dark magic pierce his skull. In that moment… he’d died. There was no doubt about it in his mind. He’d died, back then.

People chattered all around him, but Lucian could barely hear them over the sounds of his own thoughts.

I’m alive, he reminded himself. I’m here. I’m fine. And, near as I can tell… I didn’t let loose any information. Unless he saw my reflection in the Formless Essence, he has nothing. Even if he does have something, that avatar came from the future.

After comporting himself for a while, he looked around at those crowding near him. Each of them were talking anxiously, Miriam loudest of all.

“I’m fine. Just give me… give me a moment… to reflect,” Lucian said.

The monastics, Miriam, and Aurelia all backed away quietly, giving him space. Lucian rubbed his arm, reminding himself that it was still there. He touched at his face to be sure that he was still fully intact. And when he had verified that his body was sound externally, he looked inward. What he saw took all his attention.

Resting in place of where he had once always felt his magic, Formless Essence had taken root. He had grown accustomed to the mystical powers permeating his body of this reality, but they had all been replaced by this gray, malleable essence.

My magic… is gone? Lucian thought, his breathing worried and shaky. No, that’s… that isn’t what I thought it’d do. Not what I thought at all.

Lucian studied the Formless Essence. It had a certain quality of mysteriousness to it, even tamed. He worried that, by falling, the First Emperor might’ve done something to the Formless Essence. Perhaps it was undue paranoia, but it could also be due diligence. When he thought back to that fight…

“State your name. Or have you forgotten it?”

Lucian lifted his head upon hearing that voice, but no one had spoken. Maybe it was because that statement had been on his mind. He couldn’t figure out if that had been normal trash talk or interdimensional cosmic trash talk. That sounded like something mocking that the First Emperor might feasibly say… but the truth was, Lucian had forgotten his name. His real name. Did the First Emperor know something? Surely not, right? It was just a coincidence.

Something about my body… it just feels wrong, Lucian thought. He rubbed his chest. Feels like I’m having a bad trip. Nauseous… and my fingers feels weird.

Lucian lifted his head up, his brows furrowed. He had gone through with it. He’d managed to get the Formless Essence. But… with things as they were… he should be cautious before he tried to interact with it. He couldn’t feel any traces of demonic energy within his body. Then again, how would he even know? He took a few deep breaths to calm himself.

“Miriam,” he called out. “I need… I need Charlton Lowenthal. I need his expertise.”

Miriam shifted on her feet uncertainly. “Are you… sure about that? You want to involve him… in this?”

“Get him here by any means necessary. Please,” Lucian requested. “I’ll handle the fallout.”

Right now, Lucian couldn’t afford to hesitate. If the Formless Essence was compromised, somehow… or even worse, if he was… he needed to make sure of that. There was no one better equipped to diagnose him than Charlton Lowenthal.

***

Miriam had returned to Verne with the help of some monastics, and managed to bring Charlton back. It had taken a while—certainly longer than Lucian intended to say. Lucian didn’t necessarily want to involve him, but they had shared secrets, and shared secrets made it easier to share new ones. Thus far, Charlton had yet to ask any questions beyond those he needed to, a fact Lucian was grateful for.

Thus far.

Charlton held up a vial of Lucian’s blood to the light, scrutinizing it closely. In the downtime that it had taken for Miriam to covertly bring Charlton to this place, Lucian had studied the Formless Essence intently to see if he could glean anything wrong with it. It appeared totally stagnant, uncorrupted. After that encounter, he just wanted to be sure.

“I’ll start with what I can explain.” Charlton set the vial of blood down. “There’s no foreign intrusion, as you feared. Your soul has simply been wounded.”

Lucian inhaled, then sighed in relief. He was vaguely familiar, but he still asked, “Meaning?”

“It means that you may have difficulty functioning properly until it’s healed. It can be healed, fortunately, but the soul… it’s a very slow-moving thing. I can provide some alchemical supplements, but even then, it might feel like you’re controlling a body unfamiliar to you for a few weeks. You might find it difficult to keep your balance. You may find food or drink sliding out of your mouth unless you pay close attention. You may find it difficult to speak properly, or find things slipping out of your grasp. You may experience general weakness and clumsiness.”

Lucian pursed his lips in contemplation. “But it heals?”

“It does,” Charlton confirmed with a nod. “At the same time, it may leave some lingering effects. If it was inflicted by someone or something, you may have an insurmountable fear of the source.”

“So, if I told you it was caused by someone using dark magic…” Lucian said, guiding his diagnosis.

Charlton said delicately, “You may have a fear of that person, or simply of dark magic itself.”

“A fear,” Lucian repeated. “And… this fear… will it always be there? Is there anything else I should be concerned about?”

Charlton wiped his hands clean with a towel. “I’m sorry to say that I don’t know how it’ll evolve. These cases are few and far between. You may develop nothing. It may be more severe than I describe. The soul is largely unexplored territory. It’s very difficult to interact with. You’re only the second case I’ve seen in my life.”

He lowered his head thoughtfully. Lucian hoped that he wouldn’t freeze up whenever he saw dark magic from hereon. No dark magic compared to the absolute darkness that the First Emperor wielded, but… ultimately, he just had to wait and see.

“And what about the thing that you can’t explain?” Lucian asked.

“The energy that’s replaced your magic… I’ve never seen it, but I’ve also seen it countless times. That’s probably nonsensical to you… hmm.” Charlton stroked his beard, eyes growing distant. “If I were to describe it with an analogy, I would say that it contains the fundamentals of every type of power. It feels as though if you guided it down the right path, it could become magic, demonic energy, internal energy… anything, frankly. It is a genesis of power—power without form.”

Lucian closed his eyes and laid his head back. “Formless Essence.”

“A fairly solid description of it, yes,” Charlton concurred.

In game, it was represented as nothing more than an ability that superpowered the First Emperor, made him resistant to all elements and capable of wielding all elements at their maximum potential. In the lore, it was described in similar terms to what Charlton provided. After destroying the First Emperor, it’d been freed and went off elsewhere. People assumed that it would be a plot device in the next game.

Thought I understood it because I knew the effect it had in-game, Lucian thought. Thought it’d be like every other blessing I gained—that it just worked, plug and play. But it’s replaced my magic entirely.  

Most people were close to average. That was how averages worked. It was easy to be average—just do what everyone else does. For the people that deviated away from normalcy, moved far from the known outcome… there were two ways things could go. Some might become exceptional, exemplary. And some might become tremendous failures.

This was what it meant to deviate from the norm. And truthfully, as he gazed upon the immovable Formless Essence within, Lucian had no idea whether he was going up or down.

“Would it be fine if I tried and cast spells?” Lucian asked.

Charlton raised a brow. “No, it wouldn’t be fine. Your magic has been replaced, Lucian. Do you understand what that means? You shouldn’t be alive right now.”

“But I am,” Lucian said, though he realized how foolish he sounded even as he said it. “And you said yourself this stuff is the genesis of power.”

“Suppose you stimulate it, and it ruptures you from within,” Charlton said. “No one can necessarily heal that. The proper thing to do would be to submit yourself to a study board within the Collegium. I would guarantee your safety while we figure out what in the world you’ve welcomed into your body.”

Lucian shared a glance with Miriam. Charlton didn’t miss that.

“Will the two of you finally tell me what you’ve gotten yourself involved in?” Charlton demanded.

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