Chapter: 202 – Blood

Tali woke up early, before the false sun had brightened to announce the coming of a new day.

With a thought and a flick of her magic, her nightwear retracted into a band around her neck, beneath her saorsa-collar.

With a simple aspect-mirror, she pulled the magical effects of her clothing that allowed it to be self-cleaning onto herself. She did a few little hops, and circular movements of her appendages, before bending forwards and shaking out her hair.

She pulled her comb from her side table and ran it through her hair, only needing one stroke per section of hair to detangle it and get the last vestiges of unwanted things from among the strands. She then braided it starting near her left temple, going across the back of her head, and ending at the base of her neck on the right side, so that the braid would hang over her right shoulder.

This was a familiar routine, so there wasn’t very much dust or grime to rid herself of. Still, she felt cleaned and refreshed after the short ablutions.

Tali flicked out her magic once more into the band around her neck, not the collar, and it grew into her standard outfit: a set of blood-red leathers, molded to her form, but by no means tight or restrictive. They were more modest than those that some other Eskau wore.

You’re not one, yet, Tali. Don’t get ahead of yourself.

For some reason, she paused, as if awaiting a response, but one never came.

Of course not, fool. You’re not speaking. She shook her head. It was one of the unfortunate artifacts of her accident that still lingered, even so many months later.

Her cleansing and dressing done, she took a moment to look over her surroundings.

She was in a plain room, just as she liked it.

Quick motions left her bed neatly made, and ready for her to return that night.

The bed was firm with a simple blanket atop the straw mattress.

The House’s holding didn’t ever get truly cold, so more wasn’t really needed. Not that I would need more blankets, even if it did.

She pulled her dimensional pouch, her bloodstar rack, and protian weapon from her bedside table and put them on her belt. The weapon and pouch hung to counterbalance each other and her bloodstars went across her low back.

Getting ahead of yourself again, Tali. It’s not a protian weapon, and Master’s choice ensured it never would be.

Even so, she hung the morphic weapon from her belt.

It could change shape as all protian weapons could, but true representatives of those glorious creations could take the form of any melee weapon, as well as near infinite variations there-in, hers could only assume the shape of three.

Protian weapons were also all vestiges, each containing and powered by a human soul to ensure that the Eskau that wielded them were never without magic to bring about the will of their Masters.

But, instead of crafting me into such a weapon, and finding a warrior to wield me, Master broke tradition, and chose me as both weapon and wielder.

He had lifted her from one sacred duty to another, one beyond even the dreams of her kind.

And then she’d been injured.

Courage, Tali.

A simple blow to the head had scrambled her mind, fractured her memories, and set her training back significantly, when the Master’s trial was so close. The healing hadn’t even been complicated, but the warrens of the mind were labyrinthine, and the healers, and even Master himself, had not been able to restore her fully.

She shook herself, leaving her windowless room behind.

She had no need to lock the door.

Even if she kept anything in the room itself, no one would violate another’s space within the House’s hold. Even her Master’s greatest opponents within the House wouldn’t break that taboo.

Even if I am a human. Even if my very existence violates tradition and my every footfall in this place pushes up against propriety.

She turned her thoughts back to her training as she took the short walk through the water gardens to get to her training platform.

There, among the life and beauty of the garden and surrounded by water, was a stone circle that was twenty feet across.

Tali had to cross a bridge to reach the stone, one of several that connected around the circumference.

Several trees grew up from the water between the bridges to offer some shade to the space, regardless of how the false sun was used to bathe the hold with light.

She was just grateful that her magics allowed her to see well-enough to navigate in the dark of simulated night.

In the cool of the early morning, as the sky began to brighten, Tali moved through her stretches, then strengthening exercises, and then onto her morphic weapon techniques.

She both hated and loved going through the forms.

She loved them, because she should have been forbidden from learning them. They were a treasured set of sacred techniques designed specifically for use with morphic weapons. The Way of Flowing Blood was restricted to the Pillars of the House, their Eskau, and those who were to be tested for one of those positions.

Even being able to see them would have been an honor, and she had been granted the honor of learning them, herself.

She hated the forms for two reasons. First, she did not have a true protian weapon, thus the techniques had needed to be modified for her to use them with her own morphic weapon. What she had learned was a broken, cobbled-together imitation of the true beauty laying forever outside her reach.

Second, ever since her accident, the movements had felt unfamiliar, like she was trying to control someone else’s body. Only now, nearly six months after the blow to her head, was she finally back to a state of feeling in control as she moved through the liquid stances, blocks, and strikes.

The Way of Flowing Blood was a thing of near-sovereign mastery, requiring movements that no unenhanced being could possibly hope to use effectively, just as it utilized the morphic weapon in a way that no mundane weapon could ever stand in for. Though, in her case the weapon was more limited than ideal.

Still, she did have one advantage that no other Eskau had ever held.

As her body settled into the rhythm of the techniques, her bloodstars rose from her belt, moving in complement with her physical form.

I may not have a protian weapon, but I am not lesser.

Aside from the single drop which she used to give herself the equivalent of eyes in the back of her head, the remainder of her thirteen bloodstars were embedded in groups of three within three round discs of an unknown material, as well as a single within a sphere and two within a rod of tungsten.

Master had provided the housings when he’d come that fateful day. He’d provided so much then and even more since.

She let her mind wander as she used the combat techniques as a form of meditation.

She had been ready to become a fount, bound within her soul-bound weapon in more ways than one. She would have become the power source within a protian weapon, a thing of legend, which would have defended the Master and added to the glory of the House for millennia. She could not have conceived of a greater honor.

Her imagination had been lacking.

He had not only offered to raise her to Bound, and then to Fused, but he had asked if she wished to be trained up to be his Eskau, his enforcer, the hand that brought about his will both within and outside of the house.

She had wept with joy.

No human had ever even been given the chance to become such.

It had been more than that, though. A Pillar of the House was only raised to that position, if their chosen Eskau was proven worthy. The potential Pillar’s greatest test was whom they put forward, both in the quality of the protian weapon, and the skill of the Eskau who wielded it. He had chosen her for both.

She would not let him down.

She had dedicated her every waking moment to rising to equal his faith in her.

But then, the accident.

She winced internally, but held perfect form, not pausing in her fluid movements. Her discs, the rod, and ball, all moved around her in perfect harmony with her body, protecting the largest holes in her defenses, which would otherwise be exposed by each technique.

As she reached the end of the final form, her body singing with the pleasure of the kinesthetics of the movements, she heard light clapping.

In horror, she felt the color drain from her face.

She could see him, now, obvious in her perspective through her bloodstar, floating near the base of her skull.

She spun, dropping into a kneeling bow. “Master. My apologies for keeping you waiting.”

“Your apology is acceptable.” His voice was wonderful, a joy to her ears. It reminded her, somehow, of the sound that the blood of their enemies would make as it flowed across a dry riverbed.

“You are kind, Master.”

“And you are wise to recognize that. Lift your head.”

Tali did so.

“It is time for breakfast, and there is something we must discuss.”

Her heart hammered within her chest, one thought dominating her mind. How will he let me serve him, today?

The Master clapped his hands twice, and servants came forward, bearing heaping trays of food.

Tali could easily see the power radiating from each dish, even if not each servant.

Only one of the servants was human, and he was gateless, beneath notice. Still, he bore her pitcher of ending-berry juice, so she allowed him to approach and set it beside her.

The other servants were a mix of Low races, called such for how difficult it was for them to draw in and maintain magical power. Even such as they were, they were still above the gateless human.

She once would have taken time to identify each one, reveling in their uniqueness, but she was a long way from her upbringing. After all, she had been born with a gate, a gift from the sovereigns themselves. That had been her ticket away from her humble beginnings.

It was her gate and the Master’s benevolence that had brought her here.

She hid a contemptuous smile, keeping her face appropriately neutral.

These creatures were beneath her, in truth.

Where they would struggle to draw in power, she created it.

Where they would lose their magical density almost as soon as they left a region with high amounts of power, Tali could contain and increase her magical weight even in zones of absolutely no magic.

Simply put, she was better than them.

And the Master was higher still. As her eyes flicked to him, checking to ensure she didn’t displease him with a gesture or glance, she marveled at the wells of power he so casually carried with him.

He was easily capable of hiding any from prying eyes, but she could still see three vestiges, displayed for any with the eyes to see.

A glove, on his left hand; an undershirt, beneath his tunic; and the light boots on his feet all radiated power.

Tali’s one regret about her elevation to potential Eskau was with the knowledge now, when her service was complete, she would never be able to become a source of power, within a vestige. My service will one day come to an end.

She hated the very idea, even while she gloried in the opportunity she had to serve, now.

When the food was laid out around her, the servants departed without a sound.

Tali took a moment to take in the spread. The meats came from creatures of magic known for their physicality. The fruits and grains from plants that held magics complementary to her own.

Everything laid out before her would make her better, more than she could be without the added might.

Such were the continued blessings bestowed upon her by her Master.

Without a word from her Master, Tali began to eat.

He nodded approvingly; he had no patience for dallying. Besides, the food would lose power by the minute, if she delayed.

“Good, good. You are still recovering well. I am gratified to see that you have finally settled into the Way of Flowing Blood.”

Truthfully, it had finally felt natural for nearly a week now, but it was of little consequence. So, she felt no need to correct him.

Even so, it was a reminder of how far she’d fallen before her recovery. She did her best not to wince and nodded her thanks.

“I am grateful for this, as a date for the next clash of candidates has been set.”

Tali froze at that, swallowing and then taking a quick drink of ending-juice to clear her mouth. “Master?”

“Tomorrow.” His true black skin bunching up as he sneered. “They thought to unbalance us with last minute notice, but you will perform as I need you to.”

“Yes, Master.” She went back to eating, all while keeping her attention fixed on him so as to not miss a word.

“The other potential pillars will be arriving today with their Eskau candidates. I think it best if you are not within the hold when they arrive. They should not try anything…unworthy of themselves, but I’d rather not risk it. You will return this evening for the feast, and tomorrow, you will fight the five others. As you know, the dominant Eskau will earn their master a place as a Pillar of our House.”

She knew that all too well. The candidates were allowed to use any method to gain mastery. Diplomacy, both beforehand and in the ring, were encouraged as a true Eskau needed such skills to be effective.

In the past, such clashes had been solved by games of strategy, clashes of wit, or other games of skill, though that was rare, because it was a rare warrior who would trust their fate to anything but the blade.

In truth, the losers didn’t have to die. In fact, those who were beaten, or who surrendered, were often added to the followers of the victor. In that case, the master of the candidate was usually offered a position under the new House pillar. But that was not always the case, and the losers were always at the mercy of the victor, no matter how such a victor came to be so named.

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Tali had no delusions of surrender and peaceful service being an option for her, or her Master.

Not only was it her Master’s wish that she claim utter victory at any cost, but her existence would not be tolerated if she failed. It would barely be tolerated even if she succeeded, but she could secure her Master a lauded position as a Pillar at the very least, regardless of how her own status was perceived.

Tomorrow would be final victory or painful death.

Finally. I can finally live up to my purpose.

“Now,” his voice pulled her back to the present moment, “how is your head, today?”

Tali did shrink in on herself at that question, even if just a bit. “I am well. I’ve not had any pain, nor has the monitoring script activated.” It was a great shame to her that Master had been forced to add scripts to monitor her consciousness after the accident. Even worse, they had been fundamentally integrated with her mental enhancements. They could never be removed.

She would carry those marks of her failure, forever.

Power did flow through the script, but it was in a dormant state. Master had explained that any lapse of consciousness, save falling asleep, would trigger it, and given her shaky health, that would likely mean that her service was at an end.

She would do anything to prevent that script from activating.

“Good. Any odd memories, or lapses in your understanding?”

“No, Master. Does that mean you can remove your working?” There, nestled within her mind was a powerful spell-form, enacted by her Master rather than being an additional inscription set within her own flesh.

It contained a massive amount of knowledge that she should have, but which was made suspect by the accident. Whenever she encountered a situation where her knowledge was lacking, that working would provide the information she needed to not embarrass her Master or the House.

She hated it.

Like so many things of late, it was a constant reminder of her failure, and she strove, daily, to fill in the gaps, which should never have been there.

Master shook his head. “No. It will remain. I built it to come apart when you have no more gaps to fill. Then, and only then, will I consider you fully recovered.”

“Yes, Master.” She quietly resolved to increase her studies, to end the need as soon as possible.

“Finish up. We must reinscribe you, and then you will spend the day in the city.”

She nodded and began to eat once more instead of replying verbally.

In order to honor Master’s time, Tali stopped breathing and simply ate as fast as she could stuff the food down. Her inscriptions would handle it from there, and they were about to be refreshed, so that wasn’t an issue.

In less than five minutes, she polished off the last of the feast. She returned her breathing to normal at that point. While she didn’t require breath, it did use her inscriptions to go without, so she kept up the habit when reasonable.

Without need of instruction, Tali stood, commanding her clothing to retract back into the band around her neck, below the saorsa-collar.

Her pouch, bloodstar storage, and morphic weapon fell to the stone.

She lifted her arms and held them straight out before she spread her feet so that they were shoulder width apart.

With a flex of will and power, she deactivated the inherent protection within her garments. The magically created defense was such that it would protect her, regardless of how much, or how little, of her body the clothing covered.

The final requirement for her to fulfill was to manage her magic. First, she pulled all of her power out of her scripts and stoppered her gate. Then, she had to take all the magic that she had just consumed and hold it in suspension.

Master used to do the reinscribing before she ate, but that changed as she recovered, and now it was a test and training in one.

“Be Reinscribed.” With a casual motion, her Master flicked his hand forward and gold wire streamed seemingly out of nowhere, though Tali knew it came from Master’s dimensional storage.

Silver and copper joined the gold, but in far smaller quantities.

As the wires approached her, they branched out, each branch getting smaller and smaller, until each was the size needed. In some cases, that was so thin that she couldn’t see the filament even with her enhanced vision.

Then, the pain came.

All across her body, the metal breached her skin. It was only by Master’s magic that it could do so. Even without active power running through her, her body was enhanced to the point that it took a lot to cause her harm.