Chapter 25: Power

Petra says, “Walk outside onto the arena, and carry these sand bags with you.”

As I lift each of the weights, Joan starts striking with the same wobbly ineptitude as before I entered the room. Her emotions obstruct her talent sadly enough.

When I reach the sandy arena, I stretch out my limbs while Deluge says, “I will be implementing more liberal mutations in our future.”

I say, “So you're going to do more than age me?”

He laughs, “Hah, hah, hah, I have done more than that already.”

While I drop several sandbags from my shoulders I say, “So you're going to abominate me?”

He replies, “I am not going to be imprisoned in such a weak and pathetic body any longer. You shall see all that I am capable off.”

I say after staring at a pool of mud, “I would like to say no, but this world is brimming with danger and death. Do what you deem necessary, but please, don’t deform me.”

I clear my throat then continue, “Deluge, I know you would have died without me back there, but please understand the situation before you berate yourself. I wouldn't be here in Mareovosa if it wasn't for your outburst against Geralt.

I clench my fists before I continue, “I know you kept me conscious versus the tarantula slime. You've saved me more time than I may count. The villagers would have skewered me as I died alone.”

I collect myself before continuing, but my throat and eyes still burn as I say, “I would have died alone in that trench long ago without you...I would still be alone even now. I am elated you gave me the opportunity to help you as you have helped me.”

Deluge singes the atmosphere with silence. The confession tore at me as I spoke, and leaving myself so open brushes my mind with insecurity. After several more seconds, his lack of a reply demotivates my courage, so I motion several strikes to warm my body and leave my limbs limber before Petra,returns.

Deluge finally replies, “Your sentimentality is difficult to deal with.”

I say, “As is your logic.”

He stammers out, “I do not understand. I feel warm and hurt at the same time. The emotions of you humans are so difficult to understand.”

I reply, “I believe no one understands them.”

He says, “It’s a rather cumbersome element of your biology.”

I smile, “It’s a problematic part of your biology now.”

He snickers, “Perhaps, but we won’t be human much longer.”

I erect my posture, “What?”

He laughs his usual laugh, yet the familiar cadence resonates ominously with his words, “I tire of our limitations. You risk death to retain your normalcy. Surely you see the insanity of your own desires?”

I say, “I just desire to live a normal life.”

He says, “No. You want to live a life of splendor, so I shall adjust and adapt as necessary for my own safety.”

Before I can reply, Petra walks up saying, “What the hell are you doing?”

I say while turning towards her, “Waiting for instruction.”

She eyes me over for a second while saying, “Hmmm, well then Jackass, lift a sandbag and run until I tell you to stop.”

The training reminds me of the old coach, but she has slain mighty beasts beyond my ability, so I lift the sandbags and stroll around the arena jumping over glass pieces and maneuvering around earth.

As I sprint around the premise, I beat my heels into the sand lifting my toes as the brick walls that surrounds the battleground fly across my vision. I tear through the sand lifting the dust high into the air with powerful strides.

During the sprinting, I eventually incorporate leaps across pits or alternate the bags I carry in each arm allowing me to push my body over obstacles like boulders or earthen piles. The thump of my feet fills my ears as I expand my chest rapidly filling me with air.

I void my mind of extraneous thoughts. All that I am is my effort forward. The carnal instincts laid within me peak as I my legs and arms burn, but the pain of weakness prevails over my physical ailments, so I persevere.

After several hours of running, sweat burns my eye. The sun stains my skin, yet the cool winter air keeps me fresh. Deluge’s enhancements assist me greatly as my stamina wanes very little even long after the sun passes overhead.

Eventually my lips chap and my joints creak. My breathing grows ragged as I struggle to maintain my running form until I stagger along with unstable falls rather than controlled motions. Numbness oozes from my arms. My vision lacks the same clarity of my earlier exhilaration, and my organized effort devolves as I simply prevent myself from losing conscious.

My right foot slips on a pit of glass splitting my legs as I fall forward. As I order my arms to lift, my useless limbs disobey my command as I crash into the sand.

Petra says, “Did I say you could stop?”

I place my hand in front of me tearing my face from the sand. I push through the exhaustion by hauling my body while putting the sand bags on my shoulders. The sand sticks against my sticky skin weighing me down further, yet I continue slowly picking up my pace until I match my earlier speed albeit stumbling throughout the process.

My shoulders numb as my arms barely maintain tension, and every step of my journey grows in gravity and weight as my body becomes like wet lead. The sensation is rather painful, but my own experiences encompass this suffering by exponential magnitudes.

As I trip on a rock plowing my face once more into the sand, Petra shouts, “STOP.”

I finish my fall as she walks up to me shaking her head and saying, “It wouldn't be so hard if you didn't have such a freakish constitution. Learn to get tired.”

During her words I push my body over gasping for air. I say with as much mettle as I can muster, “I do not tire. I do not rest. I do not relent.”

She kicks a sandbag from my arm then sets a bucket of water beside me. I shake my head as she lectures, “You will be running like this every day, though for only 1 hour rather than 5. Can you do muscular training after that marathon?”

I smile at her saying, “Of course.”

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I hobble into the cafeteria covered in sand and dirt. Petra forced me to perform a variety of exercises for another hour after the run then she trained me with strikes using a weighted training sword. Every bit of my body ached, but I know this fatigue is short lived.

I gather a lunch containing a pasta loaded with vegetables and spices along with smoked cod. The aroma of the meal entrances my senses, so I devour the delicacy. The exorbitant price lashes my budget, but I need this food as I need air to breath. I leave the cafeteria pounding my feet towards the city for a long awaited prize.

I visit a tailor and pick up my new fassar cloak as I paid the absurd price for the tailoring a while back. As few options presented themselves to me, I found myself barricaded into the price gouge, but no critique could present itself before the perfection of the fabric.

The three pelts seamlessly meld into one cloak with well fashioned strips of fassar hide tying the fur together. While the fangs found their way onto several hide belts, the strips stylishly complement the jagged stripes of umbra and purple.

The fabric glistens under even lamplight with a vitality like a living beast who carefully pampers their own fur. He even included several pockets lining the inside with pragmatic purpose and craftsmanship. The cloak would fetch the price of a house, but the trophy is mine alone. I shall give it to no one.

I also pick up a set of 3 uniforms for my use around campus. Up till now, I haven’t actually been wearing the standard uniform of Mareovosa, but now I join the ranks of the standard student generalizing both my appearance and existence under the universities banner.

Afterwards, I travel into the forest for further ingestion while using the cloak for warmth. I brandish the enamel sword I hid under my clothes earlier, and Deluge absorbs the blade through my hand much the same way it was produced.

Deluge uses the minerals of the blade for the production of his own weapon of superior quality. The ragged edges of my cleaver spawn a perfect saber of pure white that juts from my arm.

The orange light of the sun reflects from the blade as if I held an angular mirror of white in my hand. The unnatural sharpness cuts my finger as I lightly touch the edge. The difference between our armaments quality is like that of heaven and earth.

As I swing it, I notice the blade’s density and sharpness make the object feel perfectly balanced. I pace up to a tree then torque kinetic force through my feet and waist leveraging my arms with energy swinging the sword.

The blade crisply cleaves the fibers of the wood until the sword’s motion ceases two feet into the tree. Pulling the saber from the tree I say, “Deluge. This is a masterpiece! This sword fills fellow crafters with shame!”

He replies, “My blade simply uses the outlines used for your teeth with the blueprints we saw earlier on the table. Any could do what I have done given the resources.”

I say, “Do not scoff at your talent. Even if given a thousand years, I could never hope to replicate this artifact. This is incredible. This is-”

“A mere toy compared to the tarantula slimes speed or power. The behemoth would snap our blade like a bear a twig. We have no means of survival against that beast.”

I say,”I swear upon my mother's grave that the beast shall fall by our hand. No creature shall leave me trembling in fear, and no one shall threaten my friend.”

He replies, “Hah, hah, hah. Then we have work to do. I need food for the alterations I have planned. We need to hunt.”

Deluge finds a deer in a open meadow using enhanced scent while the creature feasts on clover. Using enhanced sight, I find the trail the deer normally uses through the forest. I grow claws to climb up a timber, and by stabbing my talons into the wood, I pull my body up with my arms then lay in ambush for the creature upon a tree.

After mere minutes, the deer trots from his oasis into our trap. I plunge from the tree pushing from the branch onto the path of the deer before the creature sprints at the noise from my leap.

The wind brushes my face as my stomach lurches, but I focus my strength into my legs and left arm. My body smashes into the deer crushing bones and knocking the creature over. I land on my back after kicking the poor creature.

The impact rips the air from my stomach, but with trained tenacity, I immediately move my body lifting the sword over head. The deer scrambles to stand before I reach it, but the creature’s fate is sealed.

The sword slices straight through the creature's neck decapitating the deer instantly like slicing through a crisp pepper. The veins and throat of the herbivore squirt bright red blood from its body with each beat of its now mindless heart. The organ pumps the creature to death.

The sight makes me gag before Deluge pushes me from the conscious drooling in anticipation. He spews acid onto the deer’s fur from his throat while absorbing the creature's soul. The acrid stench of melting hair braces his nose, yet the nauseating odor only spurs his appetite.

He morphs my physiology into that of a carnivore then tears into the deer eating the flesh and tendons raw. I bare the brunt of my disgust and revulsion rather well though. Compared to the horror of hacking my own legs off, this scene’s effect falls flat.

Deluge crunches through the bones of my victim while drinking the blood greedily. The sustenance then converts into materials he dispenses throughout our body densifying our frame.

After only ten minutes, the 150 pound deer leaves no remains, and I nudge Deluge from my conscious. My body feels similar though slightly lighter and taller than before. I say, “So you just want to be of a larger stature?”

Deluge says, “By gathering resources, I can produce more weapons or even armor like that sword. I can store the minerals throughout our body without altering your appearance too much.”

I say, “So you're able to freely manipulate the matter of other creatures after eating it?”

He replies, “No. I can do so if I merely touch the other creature if given time to form the proper attachments.”

I say, “You're able to absorb another thing without killing it?”

He says, “In a sense. I have to inject poisons through the attachments as the soul will prevent the assimilation of the bodies nutrients. I can become a part of another creature without killing it though.”

I say, “Hmmm. That sounds impractical and revolting.”

Deluge replies, “Many creatures live off of one another. The mosquitoes that try sucking our blood fuse with our body while they drink our plasma. I can simply do the same for longer.”

The analogy leaves me reeling, but I drudge forward through the discomfort by saying, “How does a soul stop you?”

Deluge responds after a pause, “Think of a dead body that has just died of old age. How is it’s body any different from before it died?”

I ponder for a moment then reply, “It isn't really.”

He says, “The difference is the soul of the creature. As a life ends, at least here on earth, the soul siphons under the earth's crust where something holds the power of life. I do not know of what entity lies beneath this earth's surface, but it manipulates the creatures here on even the surface.”

His revelations grate my mind with eerie implications, yet they also impose curiosity, and I say, “So this thing prevents you from absorbing something?”

He replies, “Precisely. It holds the chains that bind the living things of this earth from consolidation. I would have altered your body completely otherwise. Since your soul rejected the changes, I had to improvise.”

I say, “And now that I accept the changes far more willingly you may manipulate my frame more liberally?’

He says, “Yes.”

My skin crawls at the thought of what horrid abomination I may be if not for the guardian beneath the surface. The undertones of his words nearly halt my questioning, but I muster a nonchalant reply, “Strange. What would you have done if not for this presence beneath the earth's crust?”

He says, “I would have engulfed all of this world.”

Cold sweat falls from my skin. Fear of this aliens purpose erupts from my body. I barely squeak out my final question, “What would you do now?”

Deluge deliberates for a moment before saying, “You offer your own strengths to consolidation. The music you generate as well as your iron will both give unique advantages I lack. You are a truly valuable and irreplaceable friend. I may even leave others outside of consolidation who prove equally capable.”

Deluge has never told me a lie. He grants truth in place of deception, so the dread degrades as warmth replaces the suffocation of his earlier accusation. I reply, “Thank you Deluge.”

He says, “I offer you the truth. Would you like a rendition of your flaws?”

I reply, “Hah, hah. Such action is unnecessary. We need to finish hunting before night sets in.”

He says, “Then let us finish our work.”

We finish several deer, badgers, moles, and squirrels throughout the forest. the enamel blade soaks up blood from each kill growing until it is a full four feet and six inches in length.

Afterwards, the sword ceases its growth at a perfect length and weight for my height. My amazement at Deluge’s crafting never ceases throughout the exchange to his annoyance which surprises me considering his disposition for arrogance at times.

When we finish the hunts, I stomp towards the dorm noticing a dramatic increase in weight while my height stays stable. My steps leave deep impressions in mud, but I tear through the underbrush with blistering speed.

The difference in my strength is dramatic. The sensation of acceleration instigates my adrenaline as I sprint full blast through the forest. My cloak blurs until I can no longer distinguish the fur from the darkness around me cloaking my movements. I Jolt like lightning through the woods until I reach Mareovosa in mere minutes.

As I leap five feet from the ground onto a hill, I steady myself with my arms, but when I land, my balance shifts almost throwing me forward. I need to prepare for my new capacity.

I approach my dorm under the veil of darkness then lay in my room noticing Luke finally resting in my bed with splints on his right arm and leg. I silently thank Deluge for handling the damn coach before preparing for bed.

I fold my cloak and leave my sword beside my bed while counting the amount of gold I have left. I count out the 30 pieces remaining, and I plan out a frugal budget for the rest of my semester so I may spend my money on items such as my new cloak rather than expensive food and frivolity.

I prepare my class materials then prepare myself for the next week. I only get a day of rest every three days of work, but today refreshed my spirit. I rest with the gentle sound of another person's breath lulling me to sleep.