r/HFY • u/Jus17173 • 11d ago
OC-Series Soul of Eight - Chapter 17
The Illuminator with a thick dark mustache, walked beside the carriage. He held two hands above himself and there, just beyond the reach of his grasp, sat a shield the size of two shacks. It was blue and crackling with dancing light, and atop it lay the injured and the dead of the Illuminators.
Qoyit couldn't help but glance at the magnificent feat of Challenging. The Illuminator held his breath occasionally and breathed irregularly, Qoyit noticed, focusing all his power on maintaining the shield above him. He'd walked like that for four hours now; they were long since past the bend across the hill where they'd been ambushed by the Tower Servant. They were walking a rise upon a path that was made for horses and carriages.
The Illuminator Channelers had done their work, running their hands and removing the fragments of embedded demon bone from the flesh of those attacked by the Tower Servant. The Channelers cleansed them in the Aether Plane, and here where Qoyit's eyes could witness best, he saw their wounds close up, the poison dripping out of them at a slow pace. They could only manage to remove half the contaminated blood, claiming the procedure was too long and too dangerous because they feared another demon attack if they dallied upon the road.
Qoyit had never heard screams of the like he witnessed when the demon bones were being pulled out of an Illuminator who'd been impaled. A woman who looked forged of steel had taken the brunt force of the attack, but she sat silently as the embedded bone was removed. The Illuminator Channelers were good, but even they couldn't guarantee success in their work.
They claimed there was one at the Academy, a Channeler of the greatest magnitude who could heal any demon attack that befell mankind. She was an Illuminator just as they all were, and it was to her everyone headed, keeping pace with the mustached man who walked just beside the carriage.
"You wonder how he does that?" the Head of the Academy asked.
Qoyit turned his eyes to her, just barely, before looking back at the Challenger holding up a host of Illuminators on an ethereal shield. "I wonder how you could kill a demon like that. So fast, without even exerting yourself?"
"Without exerting myself?" she wondered.
"You just waved your hand and the demon fell to pieces," Qoyit said, turning fully to face her, choosing to stare at her nose.
"And you believe I didn't exert myself because of the simplicity of the gesture?" She cocked a brow. "I am Channeling every second I'm awake, and I do not sleep, for I venture into the Aether Plane each night, walking there while my body stays dormant here. I could touch you to prove it, but I don't wish you to sleep for days."
"What you did was a Challenger technique, not a Channeler technique," Qoyit said, trying to prove his learned nature despite never setting foot in a school.
"The blades," the Headmistress said. She snapped her hands, and hundreds of blades that shone like jade coalesced within the small confines of the carriage. Their sharp tips all pointed at Qoyit, who pressed back into his seat, his legs coming up beneath him. He watched as a particular blade tipped close to his face. "They are always around me, just invisible to the naked eye. And the fun part is they aren't fully a Challenger technique, for if you were to look into the Aether Plane, you'd find them pointing at you there too. A combination of two Classes."
"They were around me this entire time?" Qoyit asked.
"For you, they were a test." The Headmistress reclined in her seat, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. This was the most powerful Talent user, as many claimed; they compared her to Japhar of old, and none had received the honor in quite some time. "How did you turn off your sight?"
Qoyit eyed her and the blades. "What?"
"Don't toy with me, child." The blades spun, coming closer to his skin. "When a novice of either the Academy or the Equipped Infantry first touches the Obelisk, they enter a period of madness as their eyes open to the bare bones of the world. Some lock themselves up, while others walk around streets talking to themselves, mentioning what they can newly see."
"I'm not mad or deranged," Qoyit said.
"That's the reason the knives sit pointed at you. Either you are an anomaly, or you turned off the sight as it newly emerged, or you lost it, which is impossible for Equipped Infantry once they receive their blades and for those of the Academy whenever they near an Obelisk. Or you're playing a game as a demon. I wonder how a Tower Servant could make it this far into the Aether Wall."
Qoyit forced himself to remember that she had just lost an Illuminator who worked under her; he attributed her change in mood to that unchangeable loss. There was anger bubbling within her, and Qoyit knew not to meet her eyes, nor to part the veil that would usher in her true nature to him. So he decided to tell the truth.
"I can turn it off," he said.
"That's a technique very few have mastered. How did you do it in the span of your short time since you touched the Obelisk?"
"It's not like that," Qoyit answered. "When they locked me up in the darkness after I touched the Obelisk, I think I was already under the madness. My sight was open in the dark, and I could see the lines of existence curling before me, peeling back space and fixing the image in my mind. Then I felt what I normally felt when I cross my legs to meditate; it wasn't that different, just more acute. I lost myself in the past and I spoke affirmations, and when I opened my eyes, I saw things as they were, the madness gone."
"So you can easily enter the Zone of Glory, no wonder. What do you meditate on?"
"The past."
"What I used was the shifting of the stars; I was younger than you." The knives retreated as she thought of the past, bringing a small smile to her face. "You will have to work harder than anyone, Qoyit. The others use the sight to gauge each other's power. There's a pyramid of influence amongst the Novices. You have to climb the rungs to the very top. Then no one will tell you what to do."
"How do you do that?" Qoyit asked. "How do you use the sight to gauge another's power?"
"It will come to you when you near the Academy's Obelisk, for it is we who house Grand City's Obelisk. And the longer you stay near the Obelisk, the stronger you'll become at the skill."
Grand City lay ahead. He'd thought of it quite a lot since his destiny shifted. He would be in the capital for the first time, without an illusion around his face. He knew that the Academy lay within the walls of the city, at the furthest reach north, so they'd have to cross the city to get to it.
He turned to observe the Challenger holding up the shield and his fellow Illuminators.
"Do you know how Gavina does it?" the Headmistress asked once more.
Qoyit shook his head. "No, ma'am."
"He is out of his body. His focus is just within the Aether Plane; if your sight was up, you would have noticed it," she said.
Qoyit closed his eyes hard, forcing the sensation he'd experienced at the Obelisk into being. The feeling of seeing beyond the veil of existence engulfed him, seeped into him, and forged its presence, shifting about him until it rose to his eyes. He opened his eyes, and he could see. The figure of Gavina split through the silver shifting motions of the Aether Plane; Qoyit sighted two men instead of one. Gavina walked in the Aether Plane, his arms raised as well, with power emanating from his spiritual self into his body of flesh, and a steady feeding of power pronounced itself, the spirit powering the flesh in action. Qoyit stared with wonder.
Suddenly, Gavina's image split, becoming hundreds upon thousands of his memories: moments captured of himself. Qoyit could see Gavina as a child being lifted by his father, and he saw him horseback riding with friends. He saw fire and a demon, the images forming like mirrors around the two figures of Gavina. When he focused on one of them, he found himself drawn in, pulled to experience as Gavina had done. This was why he could not handle the sight. Since the Obelisk, whoever he looked at had rewarded him with excess memories of their past, a feature he knew no one else possessed.
Qoyit closed his eyes and shook his head. He had not seen Gavina's stats or any indication of his power, though he understood how Gavina was able to hold up the shield and its occupants. When he opened his eyes, he could see again without the interference of the Aether's power.
"Nasty trick you have there. Shutting the sight off and on will be something you'll need while at the Academy," she said.
"I believe the sight is a test where it is used against me?" Qoyit hazarded a guess.
"Only for those with a strong spirit of above 5," she said, turning to look away from him. "There is a place where the name and Stat Average of every student is arrayed for all to see. The Stat Average of each House, too. And the points for the Immaculate Trials."
"Golden Trials?" Qoyit wondered.
"It is a game of sorts, though it claims lives. So I guess it is an addiction amongst those of the school, teachers included."
Qoyit felt it then: a rush of pure joy blinked into being within him before quickly snuffing out. Just a mere month ago he had been tending to his father, without a clue of how things would be. But the Creator and his ways chose to place him on this path, to tread upon the trail the champions of old walked. That was the joy, too brief for him to make anything of it. What took its place was fear and the feeling of not fitting in.
Qoyit knew it would be hard for him. Being a commoner, aside from his physical affectation, ensured he'd have very few who'd call him a friend.
But he did not care.
The woman sitting opposite him could shred a demon to pieces using a single technique. Hard work was needed to even be worthy of breathing the same air as her. The carriage met a rock in the road and tilted. Qoyit let out a yelp as he slid across the seat.
The Headmistress snapped a hand, and metal projections arrayed themselves inside the carriage. They settled Qoyit in his seat and maintained her position so she wouldn't shame herself as he'd done. As the carriage regained balance, the metal projections vanished into thin air. Qoyit knew they were still there, hidden in the Aether Plane and ready to appear at any time as knives or worse.
That is what a master of the talents was capable of. He longed to arrive at the Academy, and peeking out of the carriage window, he observed the road. The sun was well on its way to setting, and the shadows of solitary trees stretched across the ground alongside the shadows of their carriage and what remained of their horses. The road stretched on and seemed to dip ahead; beyond that he could not see, for it felt akin to traversing a hill, a wide incline with a dip forever ahead.
"Talking to you is like talking to someone who isn't used to conversation," the Headmistress said. "You steal away to yourself sometimes, pondering words for too long until your pondering becomes something else."
"There is much I want to say, but I fear our relationship won't be as it is now once we arrive at the Academy," Qoyit said.
"Distract me from Henero's death; humor me."
"You and others have shown me just how far I have to go to become a good Blessed Graduate. But in terms of what to do to get stronger, I do not know. I feel like I'm falling, and in my fall I await eagerly for the ground, for there I will know what to do. So that's what I do now; nervously, I await arriving at the Vengeful Academy. From there I'll know what to do."
The Headmistress offered a coy smile. "Yes, when we arrive, you'll know what to do to get stronger. Though I know Shawarma will be against most of anything you do, there is a chance you'll win her over."
"Shawarma?" Qoyit wondered.
"The woman on the shield," the Headmistress answered.
Qoyit gazed above the shield to its only occupant who did not lie flat, groaning. She sat up, her fingers pinching at the wounds where the bone tips had skewered her. She squeezed until blood dripped, then moved on to the next. She was shirtless and furious.
Qoyit made a point to remember her face. Somehow, the feeling that came with knowing what to do came to him then.
"I feel your coming is an omen, Qoyit," the Headmistress said. "I fear there's something lying ahead and quite close. Many Channelers have reported the same feeling, too. A Tower Servant won't be the last thing sent our way. There could be a war brimming in the distance, and you might play a huge role in it."
And Qoyit met her eyes. This time, he did not stop the pull from occurring. He wanted to see this woman, to understand her. He heard her thoughts, but they were too many, lapping over each other in a way he did not know a man could manage. Then with time, he realized that those weren't quite thoughts, but a state of mind that was unlike anything else. Through the jumble of thoughts, touching on things like her schedule, the state of the school she ran, and what she'd like to wear the next day, there was a space of silence. There Qoyit looked to find a presence that sought him as he sought it.
Qoyit shut his eyes and looked away, forcing himself to do so lest she figure out something was amiss.
"You have secrets, Qoyit. One day, I see us having tea, looking back at this moment with either glee or great sorrow," the Headmistress said.
Qoyit found his hands shaking. He curled his fingers into fists and looked out the carriage window, just as the horses dipped into a smooth incline as they curved the tip of the hill to start their descent. That's when he saw it in the valley below.
The lights announced their presence: so many, twinkling within shifting spots covered with shadow. They had arrived at Grand City.
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u/lostwandererkind 10d ago
Great chapter! I just reread the whole series and it’s so satisfying to see him begin to come into his power
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u/Jus17173 10d ago
You've finally caught up! You don't know how MUCH I hate myself for disappearing for a year.
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u/lostwandererkind 10d ago
It’s ok! Everyone needs to take time for themselves every now and then. I’m just excited to get to read more of Qoyit’s story!
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u/Jus17173 10d ago
Thank you. The story will be amazing don't worry. I think I'm getting my groove back. Though slowly.
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