《Sanguis》Progress
Advertisement
“So, how old are you?” asked the old man, handing Rachel yet another bowl of soup. She had spent that morning the same way she spent the previous two, shifting energy from one shoulder into the other, then up and down her arms - first the left, then the right.
It turned out controlling energy was similar to writing, in that she had a clear dominant arm. It took her only half as long to move the energy to her right hand.
“That’s an odd question,” she said.
“Is it?” asked the old man.
“Well, you haven’t even asked my name. And you don’t seem to be keen on giving me yours.”
“A name is a powerful thing,” said the old man, pointing a soup spoon at her. A bit of broth splashed on the table. “You know what a vampire can do with your name? Names are powerful things, best not given out so casually.”
“What about a fake name,” offered Rachel, struggling to keep track of the energy in her shoulder. Or was it in her elbow? Or no, her upper back?
Now she understood why the old man was asking her random questions. She could control the energy well enough when she was sitting in the old man’s house, sipping soup, minding her own business, but what would happen if she had to focus while locked in mortal combat?
She had to learn how to split her attention.
“Oh no, a fake name is no good,” said the old man, shaking his head vigorously. “Assume you lied, told everyone your name was…” He glanced up at the ceiling, scratching his chin. “Assume you told everyone your name was potato. And assume that’s what people started calling you. Well, fake or not, if that’s what everyone knows you by, and that’s what you answer to, then that becomes your name. And now, suddenly, a vampire can control your heart by uttering the name ‘potato.’ So no, no fake names. Your death will be no less sure, but far more humiliating.”
Advertisement
“Got it,” said Rachel, taking note.
She searched her shoulder for that familiar electric sensation - for the feeling of energy. But it was not there. Then she searched her arms and neck, and even her heart, worried the energy might have fallen toward her internal organs. But it was nowhere to be found.
“It’s difficult to maintain,” she said. “At least, when I’m having a conversation.” She lowered her head, frustrated at herself for making so little progress after days of effort.
“It’s not only that,” said the old man, filling her bowl with more soup. “When you first got here, it took you many minutes to just move the energy up and down your arm.” He slid her bowl of soup across the table, until it bumped against his own. “But now you can move it up and down your arm in less than a minute.” He moved the bowl again, but much faster this time, causing the soup to spill out all over the table.
“Imagine you’re carrying a heavy bucket of water, filled to the brim,” he said. “If you carry it slowly, it’s far less likely to spill. But if you have the strength to run around with it, eventually all the water will spill out.”
Rachel roller her shoulders, stiff from clenching her muscles so much. The old man told her the training had nothing to do with muscle control, but she couldn’t help but flex her arms as the energy passed through them. This helped her keep track of it.
Now that the energy was gone, she started to notice something she hadn’t noticed before. Or rather, she noticed what was missing. The soreness in her joints from all of that weight training, the numb pain coursing through her body - it had almost entirely vanished from the places where she had sent energy.
Advertisement
“Finally noticing?” said the old man, nodding thoughtfully. “You can’t repair flesh yet, or heal mortal wounds, but just sending energy through your body should be enough to repair muscles.”
“Very cool,” said Rachel, wriggling her fingers. She suddenly felt like she could lift boulders, climb mountains one handed, do battle with bears.
She felt stronger than she had ever felt before.
“And there’s more,” said the old man, leaning over excitedly. “Try making a little energy of your own. Like I’ve been doing.”
Rachel glanced at him skeptically. He had given her no instruction on how to do it, and he had even told her it would take months to master. But she knew the sensation well, that jolt of energy when he held his hand to her, like he was passing her a piece of fire.
She concentrated on her fingers, and imagined a blue flame forming in the palm of her hand. For a moment nothing happened, or rather, the opposite of what she wanted to happen occured. She could feel energy leaking out of her, her arms growing weaker by the second.
An all too familiar soreness returned to her.
“Don’t worry,” said the old man, nodding reassuringly. “This is normal. It’s like you’ve opened up a door. That means cool air can come in, but warm air can also leak out. Now it’s up to you to control that flow.”
Rachel increased the intensity of her focus. She pictured the energy flowing into her fingertips, up past her biceps, and into her shoulder. Soon the process reversed itself, and she could feel energy coursing into her hand, filling her up.
In fact, it was more than she had ever felt before. She felt like she was drowning, as if she had jumped off a cliff and head first into the ocean, the cold waves crashing against her, bashing her against the rocks. She somehow felt both powerful and weak at the same time.
She let out a scream and fell to the floor.
The old man quickly dropped to the ground and held her hand. She felt the energy quickly leaking out of her, until the drowning sensation went away.
“Seems you opened the door a little too wide,” said the old man, laughing nervously.
Rachel watched his expression carefully. At first she thought the look on his face was worry, a look she had learned to hate. Too many had seen her as helpless and weak, and had offered her help that she never needed.
But she had seen that expression enough times to recognize it, and this was something different. This was fear, mixed with a bit of admiration, an expression she had only ever seen from the side.
It was now that she noticed chunks of pulverized wood in her palm, in the same hand she had just been clenching the table with. And looking at the table, there was a hole in the side of it, the edges covered in fingernail marks.
“What the hell...” muttered Rachel, glancing at the old man.
He simply smiled at her, his expression still full of fear, but now with a hint of pride. If he regretted teaching her, then it did not matter.
There was no going back now.
She would never be satisfied with a quiet life on the farm again.
Advertisement
- In Serial18 Chapters
Summoned
“Per aspera ad astra." Death. Mercilessly, it comes for all. But when a young man is given a second chance – a second life – to experience what he never has, what will he do? Leave the burdens of his past behind, improving upon his faults? Or will he collapse back into old sins, wasting the opportunity given to him? Perhaps even he himself does not know. * Join Andre on his journey as he explores a new world – one ripped straight from the pages of a D&D campaign he's never played. He will face monsters. He will face men. And above all, he will face himself. The story’s genre is your standard progression fantasy, isekai: magic, a system, and a level of technology suspiciously underdeveloped. I’ve borrowed tropes from various books I’ve read like “The Second Coming of Gluttony”. The similarities are there (particularly in the beginning), but I assure you the story is my own. It’s in the first-person perspective and has its own quirks, characters, and world for you to become immersed in. The upload schedule for this will be different from the usual fictions on this site: I’ll release chapters in batches rather than so many a week. I’m a college student, so I don’t want another deadline to worry about. Depending on the popularity/demand of the series, I might increase or decrease the rate of releases. Other than that, I hope you enjoy the story! P.S. This is my first fiction so make sure to point out mistakes wherever you see them. I’m doing this, partly, to increase my skill as a writer. However, be kind! I’m fragile, you know? Warning: ***This is far from your happy-go-lucky, feel-good adventure story. There will be content that some of you might not be comfortable with. And if you're already feeling skeptical reading this, click away and don't come back. If you're still here, what are you waiting for?***
8 171 - In Serial10 Chapters
Empire of Glass - The Heroic Legend of Heron
Born in a world of constant warfare and political strife, Heron, is the young scion of the Imperial Kingdom of Yamato, the tragic city state that is about to be crushed from within due to the debacles of the tumultuous civil war. Heron, the bright star of his nation took to the grandest stage of warfare – the imperial court. He dazzled and bewitched his political rivals with his wild strategems and his natural charisma and in doing so, earned his Father's trust. At the height of the war, Heron finds himself at a critical juncture which could either make or break their kingdom. Before the decision is made, Heron is struck down from behind and everything turns into darkness. Most stories about the Heroes of legend end here, but not Heron's. After an undetermined amount of time passes, Heron finds himself in a strange world with a different tongue and culture and strangest yet was that Heron himself is in the body of a child! Armed with only his wit and his code of morality, what kind of adventures await Heron? What sort of sorcery could send him to such unfamiliar lands? And why is he a baby?! – The Heroic Legend of Heron is a reincarnation novel that deals with mature themes (politics, treason, betrayal, sex) and violence. The recommended reading age is 18 years old or above or whatever the legal age for viewing this sort of material in your country of residence. Reader discretion is advised.
8 153 - In Serial8 Chapters
Lord of Glory
You might know me as Santa Claus, Saint Nicholas, Saint Nick, Father Christmas, Kris Kringle, Santy, or simply Santa.I am the one who comes into your house every Christmas night and leaves behind a present for you only if you have been a good girl/boy and if you were a bad girl/boy.....Well, you of all people should know me."what is going on!""Hold on I can't die like this I got so many houses left....ho ho ho"Where am I?This is not the earth I know. Where are the fireplace's in the world why can't I feel their profound energy!And who are you people, how are you so strong?[Warning 18+ Gory scene, sexual scenes, and strong language]
8 195 - In Serial226 Chapters
Pink Mage
There are many types of Mages; The Arcane Mages stuck in their towers studiously dedicated to magic and understanding, The Elemental Mages the most powerful and versatile branch, and finally the color mages who are a potent mix of the two. Of the color Mages, there are the primary Red, Blue, Yellow the rare White, Black, Infrared, and Ultraviolet the legendary Gamma and Beta, and finally there are the secondary colors, also known as the mixs Green, Brown, Orange, Purple, and finally Pink. Updates will be sporadic based on inspiration and motivation. Warning: I am a lazy uninspired individual so ya... So the inspiration for this is how everyone online is always a carry or assassin and nobody plays support classes to help the team. Also, there have been studies that the "support" roles at work in RL never get recognition for keeping the company cogs greased and turning. It's always the "top" [employee title] and the extra stuff people do to keep the business running is never appreciated. So I decided to wright Pink Mage. He is a support, though he has spells so he isn't a [Support] and incapable of defending himself. None of the classes are completely useless in a fight or without proper application. But the [Pink Mage] class is bugged so that there is no way to gimp the system to legendary status. All the other Solo legends can... well... Solo, but a [Legendary Pink Mage] can't solo, period. Sure he could cast a mix of spells so that an army is basically chickens on the chopping block but he would still have to go out there and gut them with a knife one by one. I don't own the title image, It was grabbed from public domain. Warning: the content warnings are real, though the content warned of is sporadic. I don't try to right that content specifically but Micky's life won't shy away from it! So yeah, rating R... Note: This is neither a 'Feel Good' or a 'Tragedy' and doesn't have those tags for a reason. This is the 'Real' biography and adventurers of the MC as I see the fantasy universe. So it is neither going to have extra lucky encounters or terrible ones (Except there will be, because you know, story.)
8 59 - In Serial14 Chapters
Wispfort
When tragedy strikes, magically created constructs known as 'wisps' are sent to create bunkers to weather the storm. But when Forgebuilder Unit 7, 'Azure' fractures its soul in a soul-binding ritual on arrival, he suddenly has to split the task with the other half of himself and a corrupted blueprint. Now he strives to recover what he lost and finish the fort... before the storm finishes him first.
8 450 - In Serial14 Chapters
Origin
Aden, 17 finds himself in a strange world devoid of society, here, the strong eat the weak, strange creatures are common, godlike beings are as many as stars in a universe, and living gods aren't humans, the more you explore, the more you realize, this has no end, this world has no end in it. Omnicael is a diverse plane of creatures, lands, and powers. This is the origin of the man who will initiate the Newman Era
8 295