Chapter 26:

26 Days After Spring’s Beginning

288 Days After The Ra’tok Attack Amia Village

Rua Desert, Rhia Territory

I take several long gulps from the water skin, water flooding across the parched desert that is my throat. Reluctantly, I stop drinking, pulling the bottle from my lips.

I lick my lips, grabbing up as much moisture as I can.

Capping the bottle, I reach over my head and pat Kamar’s back. He heaves a sigh, stopping and setting the stretcher down gently. The asper grabs the bottle from my hand, uncapping it with his more dexterous second set of hands, he takes several long gulps from it.

The asper caps the bottle again, attaching it to the backpack at my feet. He has stripped off his thin cloth shirt, his clothes and fur sweat stained, sand clinging to them.

Can’t be comfortable having fur in this climate.

I look up at the bright blue sky, ignoring the itching of the sand. I squint against the sun, scanning for any clouds in a vain hope that they could provide some shade.

The sky is cloudless, not even a wisp.

I grab the leather goggles from around my neck, and put the strap around my head, letting the shaded glass lenses rest over my eyes. Instantly the surroundings darken, and I find the scorching light of the sun a little less bright.

Kamar grabs the handles of the stretcher again, hauling it up with a groan and starting to lumber forward through the sand. His breaths are heavy and exhausted, and I know he is feeling the heat worse than me.

I feel so useless.

I don’t like being on the stretcher, and I tried to walk for a bit. But my balance is all thrown off for some reason, and the loose footing of sand just makes it worse. It’s far faster if Kamar is dragging me behind him than me trying to walk.

I close my eyes and move my mind’s eye inwards. I can see my skull, and there is a long, thin crack running through it that makes me wince. One of my ribs also has a hairline fracture in it, and the muscles in my back are torn and sprained in places.

I take a helping of life katra from my core, applying it to the areas that are worst in terms of damage. It seems to need more to fix bone than muscle.

My hope is that by the end of today, I will at least be able to walk in a straight line.

It’s better than having to pull my guts back in and glue them back together.

The pain was something I could deal with, I’ve felt worse.

I open my eyes, sighing. Looking out at the endless, dry and sandy dunes of Rua make my throat ache for more water. But we have to conserve our resources, incase we take longer than expected to get to Parasan.

Last night had been exhausting. Kamar had to smack around a few more wurms as a small pack of them found us. He had brutalized their corpses, and I decided to just leave the cores.

I didn’t have enough energy to care much at this point about all the sand that has gotten under my clothes. The healing seems to take stamina as well as katra, and the heat has been sapping away at my strength.

Maybe we should have listened to the elder.

I lick my dry lips, and decide to break the silence of the desert. “It’s been pretty crazy, huh?”

The asper only grunts in reply.

“From the airship to the tarrasque, its almost seems like there are a bunch of gods messing with us. Doesn’t it?” I rasp, looking out over the shifting dunes.

“Sure seems like it,” Kamar says, shifting his grip on the stretcher and walking onwards.

So far, Kamar has only stopped to rest three times, and they were rather short. His Steel body is quite impressive, even though he is covered in fur, he continues to go on. This heat is killing me.

I close my eyes and move my mind’s eye inwards, pushing through the barrier that surrounds my core and into the Soul Space.

I’d been avoiding going in here for the night, trying to help keep a vigil hile Kamar dragged me. Now that day has come though, and I haven’t seen anything, I can assume that the predators have all gone back into hiding.

I look down at the vibrant blue and green world that circles the sun, the moons moving around Amia. I stare at it for a while, still marveling at its beauty. Is this what the real world looks like when you are high enough?

I look at the sun, and I can sense the origin hiding inside it. I’m still not sure what it is used for.

The runes are still in place, massive, multicolored symbols floating in the air, thin cords connecting them to the origin. The cords seem insustabital, Amia phasing through them as it continues revolving.

I want to try what Kamar explained to me.

I look at the larger of the two moons, a flick my will, launching myself towards it.

I pass throw the thin atmosphere of the moon, landing gently on the dusty surface.

Looking out on the jagged and dusty landscape, I am reminded of what my world originally looked like.

Alright, so how to go about this?

If I broke down what Kamar described, he was essentially following along a schematic. He would have to know how he wanted his constructs to come out, so he’d also need to know how he wants them created.

So I need to go into how I want it to be made.

I grab a handful of Iron imprinted Gray katra, plucking a ball of it from the atmosphere of Amia and letting it congeal in my hand.

Close my spectral eyes, focusing. Let’s start with something simple.

I imagine a smooth rod being made, molten iron being poured into a mold. There, is would harden and become a iron rod.

I press this onto the katra in my hand, and I can immediately feel that if I want the image to stick, I am going to need to feed it Gray katra. I channel a chunk from my core, helping cement the image in.

Opening my eyes, I look at the ball in my hand. It starts elongating, the katra becoming shiner and more solid. In seconds, I am holding a couple inches long rod of iron.

I flip it in my hand, amazed that I can feel the weight of it. Was it this simple all along?

I’m no expert of smithing, or really any crafts, but I think I can get the basics down. With this, I think I can create objects.

I’d already changed Vel, and I had to admit that while making a spear out of bone was cool, it is not completely practical. If I can make parts for Vel’s spear form, and figure out a way to integrate them into it, then I think I can make her far more powerful.

Of course, I am also aware that I am going to have to do this slowly. I just don’t have enough katra to do it completely.

Before, I didn’t have much to use my katra on, and felt that my capacity was adequate. But now, even with my higher than average capacity, I am finding myself running low on Gray katra at any given time.

I have to be careful how I use it.

I look at the now seemingly larger world that the moon I stand upon orbits.

I wonder what else I can do here?

I am not unaware that I am essentially a god here, in this place. It frankly scares me that I am now responsible for this world, there are people down there, living their lives and oblivious to what is happening in the real world.

The question of what will happen to this place if I die comes to my mind. I hope to never know.

I take a deep breath, and just let the worries pass through me. It’ll work out.

While the ability to make objects seems powerful, the ability to design my own creatures seems far more so.

I need to test how much katra it uses to bring an object into the real world, though.

Closing my eyes, I let my consciousness drift back to my body.

Opening my eyes, I scan the endless dunes of Rua. The landscape hasn’t changed much, other than we are moving between two dunes.

Bringing my right hand up, I try to focus on the metal rod that I know is in my Soul Space.

I can’t feel anything.

Gritting my teeth, I focus harder.

Nothing.

Stopping, I take a deep breath. Why isn’t it working?

I muse over it, and I suddenly remember the fight I witnessed between Felton and Corazon. He was using a trait to form the armor, wasn’t he?

Alright, let's see.

I whisper under my breath, “Artifice: Rod?”

I can feel my katra stirring, then it starts being burned up. My mind seems to stretcher, my intent grasping around the rod that sits on the surface of the moon.

Blinking, I watch as Gray katra bubbles up from my right hand, the Gray cloth strands whirling around. They form the shape of the rod, then liquify and reform.

My hand is weighed down by the iron rod in my hand.

Blinking, I look at it. That was… simple.

I had been expecting something harder.

The katra burn is mild too. It wasn’t using up much katra at all to keep this thing in the real world. I could probably keep it up for a few hours.

Though, I have yet to test how much katra bringing a live creature to the real word takes.

I look at the metal rod, and it looks exactly like a real one, not the painted on the world look that constructs have. Is this even a construct?

It feels very much real, the weight and smooth texture.

So, how do I release it?

Focusing, I try to picture the rod returning to my soul space. Watching intently, I find nothing has happened to it.

Okay, maybe I need to cut the katra flow?

I stop the flow of katra that is being used up to keep the object in the real world.

The rod suddenly seems to fold in on itself, vanishing without a sound. I am left grasping empty air.

Thats simple enough.

I sigh, sitting back. I look up at the bright blue sky, my thoughts wandering. There really isn’t much to do here.

I’m finding myself wanting to go back to my soul space more and more. I need to spend sometime in reality.

I hear Kamar rumble, “Would you look at that, a change of scenery.”

I twist my body around to see what he is talking about. In front of us, jutting out from the sand, are orange rocks. They are craggy and form precarious pillars and mounds of rock.

A few scraggy shrubs cling to the sides of these baked rocks, and the sand has half buried them.

“Are we getting close to Parasan?” I rasp, inspecting the many crevices and holes that dot the sides of the rock faces.

“Not a clue,” Kamar rumbles, exhausted.

I scan the tops of the rocks, looking for any signs of life.

Blinking, I can suddenly feel something tapping on my mind, like with what the thri-kreen Queen did. It taps for a few seconds, then seems to get angry.

The connection rams itself into my mind’s defenses, circumventing them completely.

A deep, bass voice rumbles through my mind, sending my thoughts scattering, ‘Hello, little brave one.’

I watch in fascination and horror as a massive black shape shimmers into existence around a rocky pillar. It is serpentine, covered in black scales, horns curving around it’s head to form a crown, a shadowy orb floating as the centerpiece. Giant black claws, teeth the size of knives. Piercing purple eyes stare at me.

I mutter one word in horror, “Inik.”