096 - The Witching Road

Through his red-gold thread came a huge thump-thump, a thick wave of green Elemental energy flowing up, flowing out of the giant lizard. It rushed to the surface, right into his body - in an instant Magnus turned entirely green, entirely flush with Elemental force, his every strand of Logos overwhelmed, his white core spinning furiously, awash in the powerful energies.

More and more - an endless stream of green, bright limes and dark mud coloured energies all mixed together, all pouring into his flesh - it felt warm at first, as if he were sitting by an open fire - then the blaze grew, as the white core spun in his gut the Elemental energy mixed with the Animus and the Mens and his own red-gold Vigour - all pouring into the white core.

All colours mixed together within the tiny white core, all the gaseous energies compressed and, with a tremendous cracking sound, the small core developed several fierce red lines, swelling in size - from the size of an apple seed it cracked and grew to that of an apricot stone, covered in bright red fractures.

The excess Elemental energy from the giant earth lizard hung around like a green mist over the dried out swamp.

"Hmm . . I'm sure Magnus won't mind, waste not want not . ." Hob, still inhabiting the ghostly form, floated above the swamp and through the green fog. Looking at Magnus, he raised a see-through hand - the ethereal form of a forest appearing on his palm.

From the forest on Hob's palm an enormous suction force appeared, sucking in all the excess Elemental aura.

"Magnus?" Hob floated down to ground level. "You hear me Magnus? No? Nevermind, nevermind . ." Hob floated around the still Magnus for a time, as if waiting for something to happen. "Tch. What does it matter? In the end . . in the end . ." The ghostly form dissolved, Hob returning as a strand of consciousness in through Magnus' mouth.

Spinning and spinning, through the night and into the next day Magnus sat with is eyes closed, his core getting hotter and hotter and finally slowing, cooling - from it came a pure white energy - Vis!

The white Vis permeated through his organs and veins, following his blood to every corner of his flesh and filling it - pouring into his bones and into his very marrow. Magnus' skin became almost rubbery, glistening with white liquid. Over the course of the next couple of hours the white liquid hardened to something like a shell, covering him from head to toe and with the setting of the sun the hard white shell broke, crumbling and falling off him in chunks.

Magnus got to his feet, stretching his arms and legs. As he moved he felt the crack and pop of his joints - the muscles on his arms and legs felt taut, as if they were bow strings pulled to the limit - he felt an incredible amount of force behind every single one of his movements.

"AHHHHHHHH!" Magnus raised his hands to the sky, opening wide his mouth and roaring.

The day before he'd known he was strong - able to leap and jump and run, able to move through the world unrestrained. Now? Now Magnus felt like he could move through the skies, fly from world to world! It was an entirely different - the difference between night and day, the difference between the reflection of a moon in a pool of water and seeing the moon hanging in the skies.

Magnus felt like he was seeing the world in the right light, in the right colours for the first time in his life - everything before now had been a pale illusion in comparison.

Even in the dead swamp and the ruins of the city the black rocks and cracked earth took on a vibrant shape in his eyes - the whole world filled with light and dazzling colour.

Complete. Whole. A feeling of being at one, not just with the world, but with himself - just moving, walking down the cobbled streets - it felt right, felt as if every single thing he did, every single way he moved was in its proper time, in its proper space - unhurried, simply placing one foot in front of the other.

On his face was the widest of grins - entirely unbidden, he couldn't help it - just feeling so damned good, just moving with such ease - a smile of simple joy rose unbidden.

He had devoured the bloody earth lizard whole - he could feel it, the shape, the mind, the memories - all, everything it was - now on a stone within the black waters of the stream within the Sleeping Forest.

Hundreds of years old - the lizard had lived hundreds of years, mostly in the wild lands to the east, beneath the plains and crawling through great underground caverns - finally settling down beneath the swamp when it found that the strange blue waters were a wonderful source of sustenance. It had been beneath the Empire Swamp for several decades, sleeping and eating, eating and sleeping - certainly the longest and most boring memories, Magnus felts its instincts were at least straight forward - nothing like the griffon - the lizard only had the instinct to gorge itself and to sleep!

From his fingers rose four strands, red-gold, blue, yellow, and green. Each strand had a unique air around it, a unique energy signature. Well . . at least the bloody lizard has ended up as something useful, inside of me!

Each strand of Logos still required his full attention to manipulate properly and, one by one, Magnus formed them into a single unified glyph. There was something he had seen in an ancient tome that Pontius had researched as the subject of his thesis more than twenty years ago - the Thousand-eyes Net glyph. It required the combined efforts of an Alchemist, a Seer, a Court Cultivator, and the essence of a powerful Elemental creature.

The Thousand-eyes Net glyph was something that very rarely appeared in the outside world - indeed, many of the most complex glyphs required the cooperation between various factions and a great deal of resources - this glyph required no such resources, but a great degree of trust - if any one of the Logos was too weak, or simply not well enough formed, then the glyph would fail - and fail catastrophically, the backlash wounding, even killing those trying to form it.

Magnus’ hand trembled . . each strand had to be held in place as the other strands wound their way around them . . . careful . . slow . . over the course of several minutes he weaved the coloured threads into a single shape - a circle with two triangles, one pointing up, the other down. This shape hung for a moment in the air before him - Magnus sighed with relief. Success!

Phew! Bloody hells . . I'm a genius, right? Ahaha! No worries, no worries . . the Thousand-eye Net glyph was hard to create, but its function was beyond useful, especially to Magnus. Simply put - anyone who looked at him, be it through a divination, a song, a scouring - through any Logos technique - they would be prevented from seeing him. A thousand times - that was the limit - a thousand scans of the Ether - Magnus would be entirely concealed.

With a light step, Magnus strode out of the city and through the swamps to the west coming to the edge of the Empire Swamp just as night fell. Here - in Lars’ fragmented memories - here was the town Lars had grown up in . . his father and mother . . Magnus walked the dark street. No lights were on in the house, no one lived here now - the door had all but fallen from its hinges, dust settling thick on every windowsill and countertop.

It was the dead of night, but Magnus felt no desire to sleep, no need to rest - even with clouded skies and a thin moon in the sky he could see clearly - and with a single thought he gathered several strands of Mens around his eyes making the night clear as day.

No need to hang around, is there?

Where do I go now?

With this power . . I'm free! I ain't got no stinking pus, no black skin - my core is whole, my mind my own . .

What now Magnus?

I've never felt so damn good!

"Aha hahaha!"

What now . . whatever the hell I want!

Magnus looked at the stone token with the imprint of a closed fist - the Witching Road's token, given to him by Waldemar. The Witching Road . . they seemed so . . so small, so insignificant.

Now that he had seen it through the eyes of Pontius all the antics of the Witching Road, all those who sought favour from the Alchemists seemed so damned petty. What was the point? What did the Alchemists care? They'd only ever look at you if you showed an inclination for Animus, otherwise you were just chattel - no different to livestock, to be used and abused and discarded with the other wastes of an experiment.

His hand closed around the stone token. Perfect. The Witching Road . . that might be just the thing.