TheVolumes by Maxus
Book 0 - Preludes and Prologues
Prerequisites - 0.2.1
2.2 - Mors // The Third Locus Part 2
The few surviving council members looked at Mors expressing, what appeared to be, utter disbelief.
“A gravitational magic! Embel’s postulates are true!” Councilwoman Jentra yelled, sprinting over to Mors.
Another council member wheezed, “Impossible. This flies in the face of one thousand cyps of Unifik Theory!”
Najors.
“It does indeed.” Jars, Mors’ father, spoke as he helped Najors to his feet. “How does he look Jentra?”
Jentra was inspecting Mors for any damage.
“My leg.” Mors could barely speak so he pointed at the debris.
“Oh dear.” She sighed, pressing her hands on both sides of the shard of firestone.
“Pori blessed you,” she spoke softly, eyes fixed on the shard, “Less than a lengthil shy of your femoral artery… this will hurt but you’ll be fine.”
She leaned her body’s full weight onto her hands. The pressure slowly forced the shard from Mors’ thigh. The pain was close to unbearable, but he did not have the energy to acknowledge it.
Jars was inching his way towards Mors, his left arm around Najors’ torso bearing most of the elders weight.
“Heal him. Then tend to Najors.” Jars commanded. Mors realized his father was the acting Chancellor if only he, Jentra, and Najors had survived. Glancing through the slits of his nearly closed eyelids, at the bodies littered across the hall he deduced it to be the case.
Jentra placed her palms on Mors’ chest. Etherflow shining off the tips of her fingers, she closed her eyes. Mors felt the warmth of her etherflow course through his nervous system. It circulated throughout his body before coming to rest around the wound the shard had left.
Jars helped Najors back to the floor next to Mors. From the sound of the elder’s breathing, he was in rough shape.
Mors could feel the veins in his thigh reconnecting. Pain subsiding. Skin zipping back together. His nerves reformed, allowing his own etherflow to take over the process.
Jentra smiled, removing her hands from Mors’ chest. She shifted her attention to Najors.
“How’re you feeling Naji?” Her eyes closed, thumb on the elder’s wrist, probing his nervous system for injuries.
“Not much worse than any other roht of late.”
She chuckled, “Well you have seen two-hundred cyps, now haven’t you?”
Mors could hear a nervous quiver in her voice. That can’t be good.
Jars knelt down to Mors, “Well that was something huh? Always knew it’d be you.”
Mors wanted to smile. The muscles in his face disagreed.
“Come on son,” Jars threw Mors’ arm over his shoulder, gripping his torso at the same time. “I’ll get you to the infirmary.”
Jentra turned to them as Jars got Mors to his feet. Her glance was noticeably grave.
She mouthed inaudibly, “You may want to say goodbye.”
Jars, apparently already aware of Najors’ state, stepped a bit towards Najors and smirked, “You hang in there old man, wouldn’t want you to miss the demise of your Unifik Theory.”
Jentra shook her head, clearly not pleased with Jars’ goodbye, then turned back to Najors. Jars began lugging Mors towards the infirmary.
Once they were out of earshot Mors asked, “Will he survive father?”
“Not likely. I’m no healer... But when I picked him up I could sense that his rootkra was badly bruised. Even Jentra would be hard pressed to heal such an injury. And without it, the old man won’t be able to heal himself.”
Mors tried turning his head to look back at Najors. He couldn’t. He tried counting the bodies, but most of them were already out of his line of sight.
“Father, are their any council members that weren’t here today?”
Jars cleared his throat, “Unfortunately not, they were all back for the graduation ceremonies. And what started as a casual discussion of Embel’s postulates between Najors and myself, quickly attracted everyone’s attention. This was an extremely well timed assault.”
The main hall gave way to the east wing, the infirmary nestled at the far end. Mors’ strength was returning and so he started walking himself.
Jars let out a brief sigh of relief, “You good to get yourself the rest of the way?”
Mors nodded. But it didn’t matter much. He could see the healers flooding into the hallway, a few carrying stretchers, most in a full sprint likely in hopes that there were survivors.
“I’m going back to the west wing to notify the Masters of Eghom. Hopefully they can provide us some assistance.” Jars’ voice faded as he darted back towards the main hall.
Mors struggled through a few more steps before the healers reached him.
“Take it slow there.” Prime Healer Kemera held his arm, helping him onto the stretcher. “What in the name of the Father happened back there.”
“The Mage Guild,” Mors sighed, finally feeling some modicum of relief, “they killed almost the entire council.”
“Almost?” Kemera paused, her stare was grim, “Who survived?”
“Just my father, Jentra, and Najors.”
“For fuck’s sake.”
“And Najors’ wounds are fatal. Jentra is trying her best but…” He coughed, lungs weighed down by the firestone dust he’d inhaled.
Kemera signaled for the rest of her team to continue down the hall, save the two Kappas carrying his stretcher. They started down the hall to the infirmary.
“Don’t worry son, there’s nothing you can do. Why did they leave, or did your father fight them off?”
“I killed them. All of them, but…” he coughed again, then cleared his throat, “Menevus escaped with one more.”
Kemera looked at Mors, apparently trying to decide if she could believe that a student had dispatched the entire guild single handedly.
“How?”
He thought for a second, remembering the etherflow pool in his throat. The stream of light collecting the guild members. The gravitational collapse. He’d revel in his breakthrough later.
“Gravitational Magic.”
She looked at the Kappas in disbelief, “Brothers save this one… he must have taken a severe blow to the head.”
Kemera kicked open the doors to the infirmary, ushering the Kappas to a bed in the far corner.
“Give him a paindullard and take off his clothes.”
They slipped a tablet under his tongue. Mors swallowed it. He watched Kemera run across the room to the NervoAnalyst. They’d use it to search for any damages to his micronerves. She rolled it over to the bed. Heat swelled within him as the paindullard kicked in.
He started to drift.
“What in the...”
It was Kemera’s voice.
“...his system looks like he released a cyp’s worth of etherflow in an instant.”
“What could that mean Master?” Someone unfamiliar asked.
The noise faded. Then… then he heard singing?
udah seh’Pahtehrkah… ah’seh’Pahtehrkah.
Definitely singing. Cut off by Kemera.
“I’ve never seen this before…”
He wanted to hear the singing. But Kemera’s voice filled his thoughts.
“It’s… it’s another kra?”
udah seh’Pahtehrkah… ah’seh’Pahtehrkah.
“How can he… what in the name of the father?!”
Please stop talking, I want to hear… I need to hear the singing.
Kemera’s voice was silenced. Mors could see something. Something unfamiliar. A beach?
https://opensea.io/assets/ethereum/0x8Cb05b84F3288771DE12fAF4915f3660F6e4190b/27
Yes, that was it. A beach. Kathos maybe. And a man… Menevus? Floating far above the beach, waving his arms.
udah seh’Pahtehrkah… ah’seh’Pahtehrkah.
Cracked wings, spilling silver blood. Lips moving gently.
https://opensea.io/assets/ethereum/0x8Cb05b84F3288771DE12fAF4915f3660F6e4190b/28
udah seh’Pahtehrkah… ah’seh’Pahtehrkah.
The song. It was coming from this… this Angel.
https://opensea.io/assets/ethereum/0x8Cb05b84F3288771DE12fAF4915f3660F6e4190b/29
He tried to reach out to her but he was not there. He was in a room. A dark room. A switch flicked. The room grew bright. So bright his mind burned. A switch flicked. The light was gone. Pain took its place. A switch flicked. His mind burned…
https://opensea.io/assets/ethereum/0x8Cb05b84F3288771DE12fAF4915f3660F6e4190b/30
He tried to close his eyes, but he had no eyes to close.
Then a different beach. But the starglow was yellow. And the humans. They were so… calm.
He tried to speak, but he had no voice.
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