《Astin》Chapter 6 - Sickness of Demons

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Sometimes the mind plays tricks on you, what was somewhat here can actually be there. An auspicious sign others might say; not knowing if you’re head has sprouted another brain, and began whispering lies to the other.

Ray sighed. It was happening again. Just like before, after he touched magic on his first week.

Well hello there Sir Demon. Kind of you to bless me with your presence again.

Hazy. Dark. A fearsome demonic being towered over Analie, its long claws protruding as though it was a dragon’s fang, threatening to slit her throat. Ray peeked at Analie. This was the seventh time now. The girl beside him didn’t notice and just smiled unwarily.

He exhaled, examining the large mountain behind the giant demon. Dark spectral ghosts accompanied it, they jutted from its back in a symphony, smiling. They seemed to only loom around Analie, not caring to notice Ray at all. He studied their shapes. Formless. Their daunting form distorted into an amalgamation of fiery radiance. It was not an illusion but Ray felt the sky darken, the temperature drop, frost slithering towards his heart.

But Ray was already a veteran of these bizarre situations, he breathed deep for a second, air swirling inside his lungs. He tapped on the magic from the Lumen below him, gifting him with warmth.

Prickling sensations surged from his pocket, travelling on a loop through his head and back to his thighs until the images in front returned to normal. Here and there, countless sparks appeared on his sight. The strangers were gone. The cold gone also.

Beads of sweat trickled Ray’s forehead, his face was suddenly bleached white.

Analie jerked when she saw the ghastly face, almost losing her balance, then took a moment to pause. “Ray, you used too much Absorb.” She raised an eyebrow and said in calm but stern voice. “And this is the second time. Here”

She placed her foot to Ray’s, its tip nudging his boots. A slight itch bore from the edge of his ankle, rising upwards like a volcano about to explode. The mana from Analie spurted inside his veins, gushing back and forth. It twirled and twirled until Ray’s complexion turned back into a light tan.

The sensation was still uncomfortable. Like someone pumped air into his body and vacuumed it back. Ray shuddered a bit, rattling the plates and forks and spoons he held.

She exerted a little bit more mana. “You’re very lucky I’m always beside you when this was happening. I thought I warned you about this.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should say sorry to yourself. I think you haven’t realized the consequences of Mana Deficiency, Ray. I still remembered you collapsed on the library.” She frowned, driving the mana into a fine tune. “If my mana wasn’t compatible with yours, you would have been long dead by now, shivering until your body dries up. And remember, you still have to bring back your memories. Maybe you can still find your family.”

“I’ll be careful from now on, I promise.” Ray said, sweating profusely, the mana flushing his face red.

“This is not being careful, Ray. This is about—“

“Is the rice ready yet!?” A childish voice shouted from the distance.

....

“It’s done!” Analie yelled back. She removed her foot then turned to a whisper. “Just don’t practice Absorb without fully charging your Lumen or I’ll have to clean a dried husk. You have to remember that humans cannot naturally recover mana.”

“I understand.” Ray said. That’s weird I always make sure the Lumen is filled up. No, I checked after I woke up. It was fully charged.

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Ray shivered he didn’t expect the same mistake to happen again. It was getting worse. He was able to handle it previously since last week, but the Lumen he had right now would not suffice.

The first time was only that big guy. I freaked out and sucked too much, almost killing myself even. The second time, yes, it sprouted another head but I found out that I needed to Absorb much more for it to disappear. This, right now, was the seventh time. Oh god, they were multiplying. Does the number of those... let’s call them Ghosts, directly proportional my mana consumption?

He stopped for a moment, studying the state of his connection to the Lumen. Nothing was wrong but it seemed he needed a solution for this ‘sickness.’ If he knew he would be like this, he wouldn’t have used the Lumen last week.

In this world, Ray found out that humans cannot use magic. Well, ‘cannot’ was an overstatement; it was that using mana would most likely kill a human. They were not like the Demi-humans who had a larger Mana Source and can regenerate mana. Because for whatever reason, humans cannot regenerate mana without external help. Which meant: Human use magic. No more mana. Human dead.

But the act of casting spells was usually seen as majestic in the root of it all. Humans craved it. That’s why, since the past five centuries, when the Alak Summit initiated the Magic Revolution, magic tools were now commonplace, granting anyone the usage of magic, making daily life much much easier.

He tapped into the Lumen once more, calming it. He visualized its structure, its current status, the information flowed instinctively. Trees. Grass. Its scent smelled of spring, the very nature of life. Ray sighed, his Mana Source latching to the Lumen. Still fine

The Lumen in his pocket pulsed some more, sucking the excess mana Ray had. He continued to endure until the Lumen had its fill. Afterwards, his stomach grumbled. Analie glanced again, investigating his complexion. She harrumphed then turned back to the dining room.

When Analie, holding the remaining rice and Ray with his utensils, returned; the feast had already started. They saw Sister Lily standing there, flushed pink, her leg placed on the edge of a table with a mug filled to the brim and raised hers overhead.

“Praise Halavat!” Sister Lily said in the jolliest of noise.

Bare hands were already plucking their choice of food. Children, and of course Kula, were scrambling for the main dish. Gila sat beside Sister Lily, munching on a piece of beef, his face covered with oil. Nevertheless the picture playing in front looked so holy and serene, painted from the subjects’ smiles.

“— acting was so beautiful.” Guard Gibson said to Sister Lily. They must be talking about last night. He turned towards Ray’s footsteps and approached him. “Hello there Ray, good thing I forgot the potatoes. You’ve got one hell of a feast here.” He slapped Ray’s back, laughing.

Ray rubbed his back as he sat on the opposite side of Analie. Despite trying to smile at her, teeth and all, unfortunately, he was ultimately ignored for obvious reasons. Ugh. Nevermind, he clasped his hand then recited the Halavat prayer for lunch. Peeking forward, he also saw Analie pray.

After an instant mumbling, he then shifted his attention to the delicacies. First, he scooped a plateful of rice. The bits of garlic and beef jingled nicely in its crevices. It was actually delicious, the amount of spices used by Analie made it almost gourmet as its oil glossed a fine sheen and landed smoothly on his stomach.

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Next he laid his eyes upon the large plate of roasted beef; it was a mess, mangled by the multiple hands of children. Thankfully, there was already a mouthful of meat displayed beside his plate. “Thank you Sister.” Sister Lily turned to nod then returned conversing with Gibson again.

“Safety...children...bandits.”

“Help...nearby...capital.”

What? Sister Lily and Old Gibson were spouting some heavy words. But the noise of the room and the distance kept Ray from completing the thought. He formed the fragmented words he heard and made a series of questions to himself. Was there some security problem in Jensen? I thought the Knights were stationed here.

Ray slid his chair near the conversation. Any news was important in a medieval world. This was not the information age where letters can travel by a click. He ate quietly, head down, but his ears perked for every word, ready to catch anything. Assassinated, King, call-back. The words shaped from their mouths. They didn’t wear a serious face but their eyes betrayed their expressions.

That was bad. Ray shivered. The bandits, based on what he heard, still roamed in the surrounding areas, pillaging. Hell, most of the people here were from nearby villages. He ate another spoonful of beef. Succeeding it, the fried rice then followed. It was delicious but he had no more appetite unfortunately.

Another piece quickly went into his mouth then swallowed by the pits of his stomach. Ray frowned from the sudden tastelessness. If Jensen were to be attacked, can he survive in a fight? Definitely not. They would obliterate him with his thin arms. Even with the full power of his Lumen would be useless, it only spews an ember for candle light and he would be damn near Mana Deficiency to make it work.

Let’s just hope Old Gibson and his friends can protect us.

The feast neared its end, or more precisely, the beef was almost spent. He prayed again by himself, reciting the Halavat after-meal prayer then finally arranged his plate and placed it on the kitchen basin.

The way to the Church library turned to be easy for his stomach. It was only a few steps from the kitchen. Despite the size of the church, the ‘Library’ was only a simple room decorated by a single cabinet, equipped with a single shelf and four cupboards.

He pulled the only chair and sat on it. With a touch— not using the connection on his Lumen— the alchemical sphere lit up a yellow light, illuminating the room. The books Ray had been reading previously were still in their positions.

He laid a hand on an open book, embroidered with thick strings, crisscrossing on its spine. Printed there, were the details concerning the history of Lumen and its siblings. Shifting his body, Ray took the Lumen and placed it forward. From what he knew, this device was also a product of the Magic Revolution. Specifically it came from the Vaato Series, magic tools that serve as a separate Vessel for magic manipulation.

He turned the page, refreshing the information he studied on his first week.

Vaato Series tools were the forefront of Magic Advancement. Many praised the Vaato Series’ architecture as it granted the user another Mana Source, Human or Demi-human, either can have a storage of mana that can be used for casting magic. Though it was designed primarily for war; in time, it was also commercialized for the general populace. The downside although was that it always needed mana to store for stability. Use it when its empty and it will suck mana until it’s satisfied.

In a sense, if not for the sudden appearance of those ghosts, Ray would not have any problem using Lumen. He waved his palms and rested them on the back of his head.

A Lumen costs about half a grand and a pixel. Assuming I buy it, it would leave me four pixels and six gone. Ray took a whiff of the body of King Lorem Ipsum Ivanovich III. The problem is how I’m going to buy with a stolen grand.

His eyes trailed to the epic of Prince Arak and the Demon Gods, pages bent and stressed from constant use. Books of tales, fables, stories meant for scaring were also scattered beside it.

He let his thoughts wander.

The ghosts usually disappear when I Absorb Lumen. But what if I don’t Absorb and just let them do what they want.

Is it a risk I can take?

Or maybe I can also confess to Sister Lily and hope to Halavat she won’t smite me from demonry, considering I was literally summoned by those red-robed Cultists.

Options churned and contingencies turned. He looked at the books spread before him, grabbed a leather-bound book titled ‘The Daughters of Silver’ and flipped its pages a thumb-thick at a time. Even if they were dramatized, Ray could still get a precise opinion on these lands. They were all the books the Church had; useful for history and culture, but they offered no solution in his current predicament.

I miss Earth. Ray clapped both ends of the book.

The Ghosts are not gonna wait by themselves.

Ray grunted. He watched the alchemical sphere dim by every second, and then he got up, gathered his belongings and followed through the door.

The sphere flickered tiny flashes until darkness swallowed the room.

Walking outside the church proved to be difficult for Ray. The glaring sun shadowed above his head, slaving his body to make more sweat. Farmers huddled the walkway, carrying carts and tools. Horses in carriages straddled up, carrying fresh produce. Ray stood at the side, toiling towards the Northern Gate, opposite to where he first entered.

On a platform between the Gate and Styrmyrs Pub, people flocked on a silver-haired girl. Ray watched the event before him. Some kind of act he suppose. Men and women in brightly colored clothes moved and danced. They flipped, jumped and juggled. The main actor, a girl of silver hair, dressed as a prince, ran at the edge of the platform and somersaulted towards the herd of onlookers. A fine white gentleman suit looked great on her and a tight leather trouser enhanced the image, her crimson cape flickered as she landed in the ground.

“And here I am.” She bent on a knee, hand to the chest.

He went to the play, squeezing from lumps of sweaty bodies. There he saw a small cloth hung above the platform. So that’s what made Gibson giggly last night. Sharia huh.

Roses were thrown. Whistles sounded. Claps and cheers greeted the Night Troupe. The remaining Night Troupe members walked to the edge and did a theatrical bow. A colorful confetti exploded on each sides, garnering the smiles of the people. Ray realized why Gibson went bonkers last night.

“That is all people of Jensen. We hope you liked The Princes Journey.”

Ray shook his head. He wanted to see how a play was performed and he arrived the very last second. Nevertheless, pressing matters need attention. He overtook the crowd and turned towards the Northern Gate.

Staying there on top of the stairs, a guard named Robert remained slouched on a chair. He wore a tight vest, just like the one Gibson had, colored by maple that reached only on the chest. His spear rested on the wooden rail and a circlet inlaid with keys hung on his trousers.

“Mr. Robert, I want to go out.”

Robert nodded and pulled on the lever. A clanking of chains gurgled, spurting the gate upwards. Ray bowed in respect, strode down the flight of stairs and passed under the spiky wood.

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