Serenity stayed as still as he could in the shadows. Tranquil Conviction knew he was here, and that was completely unexpected.
As he waited, Serenity watched the BattleLord. Either he was a better actor than Serenity expected a warrior to be or he had no idea Serenity was here, even though Tranquil Conviction spoke directly to Serenity.
Was he not helping his own side?
Serenity knew that gods weren’t always helpful; that was one of the reasons he didn’t entirely trust them. He also knew that it was likely that Tranquil Conviction was limited in what he could do on Earth. Still, he’d just spoken to Serenity; it shouldn’t have been difficult for him to also say something to the BattleLord that would clue him in that Serenity was there.
Serenity was beginning to get the feeling that there was more going on behind the scenes with the Sterath than he’d known in his past life. There was no reason he should have known; not only was his full vengeance against them still a century or so in the future, he’d only learned his enemy well enough to kill them. Language had seemed important, as did current politics; he hadn’t cared about historical politics, especially since the Sterath didn’t really preserve their history as anything but an oral tradition.
Perhaps he’d been given the name Peace of the Grave partly because the Kaelitha were not on the best of terms with the original holder of the name?
Well, whatever truth there might be in that, all it affected now was that Tranquil Conviction hadn’t warned the BattleLord. He was sitting unguarded in a supposedly secure room, alone with Serenity. That presented an opportunity.
It was one Serenity didn’t really want to take; on some level, Merge bothered him. It wasn’t the fact that his opponents had no way to fight back; he’d have been fine with sticking a knife in their backs from the shadows. It wasn’t the fact that he temporarily had their memories and could learn things from them; that was useful, and he’d have happily gotten such easy answers another way.
No, it was the fact that every time he did it, it was like who he was shifted a little. Was he still himself if he Merged with others, picking up bits and pieces of them each time?
Did it matter?
Yes, yes it did. Yet he couldn’t simply throw away the tool. Not when the BattleLord’s knowledge (and possibly authority if he could manage to retain himself while holding the shape of the BattleLord) might save hundreds of civilian lives.
He’d already made the decision, hadn’t he?
Serenity exploded from the shadows of the darkened room, filling the entire storage area with the darkness of the Origin, the darkness of choices not yet made. As he swept over the BattleLord and tried to Merge, he felt a momentary resistance. It felt like he was passing through a space too small for himself and he knew the BattleLord must have a shield.
Yet the shield was not designed to stop air or even smoke; it was designed to stop damage from battle, not the environment. Serenity could pass through spaces that small as long as he did not have to stop while he was divided so small, and there was some room on the other side of the shell. It wasn’t enough room for all of Serenity, but it was enough to begin the Merge.
The previous times he’d used the skill, it had seemed quick. This … wasn’t quick. It also wasn’t the simple, painless process it had been before.
Serenity was swept into a whirlwind of memory and emotion.
The slave creche. Learning the basics of combat, but still being lost in the crowd, clever but less physically adept. Striking the final killing blow on the monster that ate most of the creche after maneuvering to catch it from its injured side.
Failing his training as a Scout. Somehow catching the attention of one of the Scout Mage trainers for how terrible he was.
The memories hurt; Serenity didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget them, even though they weren’t even his own. This wasn’t how Merge was supposed to work. At least, he didn’t think it was.
Affinity testing. The joy of finding out he had a good Fire Affinity and was moved from Scout training to Mage training.
Being placed with a younger age-group since he was smaller than the others and didn’t have the rank- and achievement-marks that “should” have come with his age.
Finally being able to excel and be rewarded for it; he was stronger and faster than most of the mage cohort and picked up the magical training quickly as well. Even better, no one seemed to know that he was the child of a slave; he was fed the same food as the other mage trainees and slept in the same bunkroom. He knew he would forever have to keep his past a secret if this was what those who were not slaves were given.
For a moment, Serenity remembered his own past. It was very different from that of the Sterath BattleLord, but in some ways equally lonely. He’d moved from town to town every few years, often not even staying in the same country. He’d be with his mother for a year, then his father for two, then back with his mother. Sometimes they’d be stationed together, but more often the entire family was only together on holiday. Fortunately, they were able to take very long holidays; it wasn’t until he was much older that Thomas realized that a month off wasn’t a normal holiday break for a family, even if they were often at odd times, when his parents could both take a longer leave.
Serenity focused. He didn’t need to know this about his target, and certainly he didn’t need to be remembering his own past. This reminded him of when he’d cleanse memories, only he had less control. It was like the memories were being pushed into him instead of removed. Serenity pushed them back out; he was supposed to be in control here, and he did not choose to know about the Sterath BattleLord’s childhood.
The BattleLord was fighting for control the only way he had: by trying to remain himself. His memories, his truth overwriting Serenity’s.
Serenity saw the BattleLord’s life flash in front of him again, less organized but still intruding. A fight for a promotion. A battle between mages that FlameHeart should not have won - which won him his Name. Choosing to put his name in for the next planned invasion, and his plans afterwards.
It was a battle between Serenity’s Ambit and BattleLord FlameHeart’s Will. Serenity threw his own Will - his own Mind - behind his Ambit and pushed. This was his ability, his space, his mind. He chose what to do here, not another.
Serenity felt a barrier shatter and realized the BattleLord’s shield had only now shattered when he pushed. He felt whole in a way he hadn’t before; this room, this area was his. His to shape, his to control. His to choose what the potential would become. Finally, his mind began to dominate.
Serenity saw the BattleLord’s despair as all of his plans for the invasion fell apart and took the moment to push. Not with his memories, but with his control - his ability to wash away the memories of another. The gift he’d brought back from the Guardian Sea might well save his life today.
The BattleLord’s childhood vanished. Unlike before, Serenity could still remember the general outline of it, but the details were gone.
Serenity had a moment of thankfulness that FlameHeart was an elementalist and not a Mind specialist.
Unfortunately, he was still focused on his mental attributes, and despite his lack of ability with the Mind or any of the related Affinities, that was still enough to push back against Serenity. Memories of learning elemental magic, especially Fire, poured into Serenity’s thoughts. It wasn’t much like the time Vengeance had spent learning more about Death magic or the time he’d spent learning more about magic in general; instead, it was purely focused on the practical details. How to make a spell faster. How to speak the tongue-twisting chants without losing them. Shortcuts for the gestures some spells had. How to tweak a spell to land exactly where you wanted it.
It was all valuable, but none of it would help you become better than your teachers. Without learning more than that, you’d cap out. Some of the bits and pieces might help you make it to Tier Five or even Six, but anything past Seven was a loss.
As he thought that, Serenity knew that the Kaelitha Lord was Tier Seven. No other Kaelitha Sterath was above Tier Six, and if they knew what was good for them they’d stay there.
No wonder they weren’t teaching anything that would pull them higher.
Serenity felt some of his area of control wavering under the onslaught of memory. He pushed the clot of memories into the River of Souls and felt FlameHeart straining to hold on. One more good shove was all it would take.
So Serenity pushed. His goal here was to kill BattleLord FlameHeart. Yes, it was an assassination. Serenity was fine with that; the general of an enemy army was a valid target. Yes, he might keep some of FlameHeart’s memories; that was simply good intelligence gathering. What he wouldn’t keep was FlameHeart’s soul.
That would be truly destroying the person, worse than simply killing him. Worse even than trapping a soul in a decaying body; Vengeance had always tried to stop that when he saw it, but there was an end to that. Once the body was gone, the soul could move on. Very, very few people were ever worthy of that level of punishment - and Serenity was convinced that they were exactly the people you shouldn’t give it to, in case they somehow figured out how to come back.
Serenity felt it when he finally won. BattleLord FlameHeart’s flame went out and he slid into the darkness of the River, vanishing from Serenity’s sight.
More of his memories were clear to Serenity than he would have chosen, but none were as bright as the ones he’d kept from others. It was a hard-fought battle and the results weren’t entirely what Serenity would have wanted.
[Your Fragment of the River of Souls has been integrated into the Merge ability]
Oh, that was good.
The world seemed to be oddly dim. Serenity tried to glance at his Status but all he saw was that he was very, very low on both mana and Essence.
He felt himself losing control of his shape. What shape was he even in?
He’d be fine. He knew that. No one here would harm him.
Darkness closed over Serenity. It wouldn’t be long before he woke. Surely it wouldn’t.
Rissa felt Serenity’s mana and Essence fall as she watched him fight. She couldn’t say anything for fear of distracting him at the wrong time, but she knew everyone around her had noticed how anxious she was. They’d probably guessed why, since she’d been updating the map as Serenity told her what he found in each location.
It was obvious that he was far too deep to be rescued before he was killed if something went very wrong. Rissa wasn’t certain that he could be killed, not for good, but she hoped she’d never have to find out.
All she could do was wait and watch. It was a good thing she could borrow his senses; she knew when he decided to attack and she knew when it almost went very wrong. She sent him as much energy as she could, but at this distance there wasn’t much she could do. She supported him when he pushed back, but gentle support was all she could muster.
It was frustrating. Her Mind Affinity was high - higher than his - but other than the telepathy she’d always had, he was better with it than she was. There was little she could do to help.
Eventually, he won. Rissa saw her chance; he was in bad shape and she knew he wasn’t going to be able to make it out without rest. She felt him shifting; for some reason, he wasn’t going to stay in his smokelike Sovereign shape.
So she pushed him over to a specific form. One that would keep him safe. It wasn’t difficult; if anything, it felt like the shape was one that he “wanted” to take.
Perhaps it was a mistake, but if it was a mistake that kept him from having his throat slit while he was unconscious…
It was too late now anyway. He was out.
Lillene
In some ways, this decision - to accept power even if it comes with a cost to his remaining humanity - is how Thomas ended up as the Final Reaper.
In other ways, it’s completely different; instead of vengeance, he’s accepting the price to prevent the loss.
He’s going down a path to an unknown future, one step at a time.
Of course, isn’t that what time means? Most of us can’t see the future.
Serenity stayed as still as he could in the shadows. Tranquil Conviction knew he was here, and that was completely unexpected.
As he waited, Serenity watched the BattleLord. Either he was a better actor than Serenity expected a warrior to be or he had no idea Serenity was here, even though Tranquil Conviction spoke directly to Serenity.
Was he not helping his own side?
Serenity knew that gods weren’t always helpful; that was one of the reasons he didn’t entirely trust them. He also knew that it was likely that Tranquil Conviction was limited in what he could do on Earth. Still, he’d just spoken to Serenity; it shouldn’t have been difficult for him to also say something to the BattleLord that would clue him in that Serenity was there.
Serenity was beginning to get the feeling that there was more going on behind the scenes with the Sterath than he’d known in his past life. There was no reason he should have known; not only was his full vengeance against them still a century or so in the future, he’d only learned his enemy well enough to kill them. Language had seemed important, as did current politics; he hadn’t cared about historical politics, especially since the Sterath didn’t really preserve their history as anything but an oral tradition.
Perhaps he’d been given the name Peace of the Grave partly because the Kaelitha were not on the best of terms with the original holder of the name?
Well, whatever truth there might be in that, all it affected now was that Tranquil Conviction hadn’t warned the BattleLord. He was sitting unguarded in a supposedly secure room, alone with Serenity. That presented an opportunity.
It was one Serenity didn’t really want to take; on some level, Merge bothered him. It wasn’t the fact that his opponents had no way to fight back; he’d have been fine with sticking a knife in their backs from the shadows. It wasn’t the fact that he temporarily had their memories and could learn things from them; that was useful, and he’d have happily gotten such easy answers another way.
No, it was the fact that every time he did it, it was like who he was shifted a little. Was he still himself if he Merged with others, picking up bits and pieces of them each time?
Did it matter?
Yes, yes it did. Yet he couldn’t simply throw away the tool. Not when the BattleLord’s knowledge (and possibly authority if he could manage to retain himself while holding the shape of the BattleLord) might save hundreds of civilian lives.
He’d already made the decision, hadn’t he?
Serenity exploded from the shadows of the darkened room, filling the entire storage area with the darkness of the Origin, the darkness of choices not yet made. As he swept over the BattleLord and tried to Merge, he felt a momentary resistance. It felt like he was passing through a space too small for himself and he knew the BattleLord must have a shield.
Yet the shield was not designed to stop air or even smoke; it was designed to stop damage from battle, not the environment. Serenity could pass through spaces that small as long as he did not have to stop while he was divided so small, and there was some room on the other side of the shell. It wasn’t enough room for all of Serenity, but it was enough to begin the Merge.
The previous times he’d used the skill, it had seemed quick. This … wasn’t quick. It also wasn’t the simple, painless process it had been before.
Serenity was swept into a whirlwind of memory and emotion.
The slave creche. Learning the basics of combat, but still being lost in the crowd, clever but less physically adept. Striking the final killing blow on the monster that ate most of the creche after maneuvering to catch it from its injured side.
Failing his training as a Scout. Somehow catching the attention of one of the Scout Mage trainers for how terrible he was.
The memories hurt; Serenity didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget them, even though they weren’t even his own. This wasn’t how Merge was supposed to work. At least, he didn’t think it was.
Affinity testing. The joy of finding out he had a good Fire Affinity and was moved from Scout training to Mage training.
Being placed with a younger age-group since he was smaller than the others and didn’t have the rank- and achievement-marks that “should” have come with his age.
Finally being able to excel and be rewarded for it; he was stronger and faster than most of the mage cohort and picked up the magical training quickly as well. Even better, no one seemed to know that he was the child of a slave; he was fed the same food as the other mage trainees and slept in the same bunkroom. He knew he would forever have to keep his past a secret if this was what those who were not slaves were given.
For a moment, Serenity remembered his own past. It was very different from that of the Sterath BattleLord, but in some ways equally lonely. He’d moved from town to town every few years, often not even staying in the same country. He’d be with his mother for a year, then his father for two, then back with his mother. Sometimes they’d be stationed together, but more often the entire family was only together on holiday. Fortunately, they were able to take very long holidays; it wasn’t until he was much older that Thomas realized that a month off wasn’t a normal holiday break for a family, even if they were often at odd times, when his parents could both take a longer leave.
Serenity focused. He didn’t need to know this about his target, and certainly he didn’t need to be remembering his own past. This reminded him of when he’d cleanse memories, only he had less control. It was like the memories were being pushed into him instead of removed. Serenity pushed them back out; he was supposed to be in control here, and he did not choose to know about the Sterath BattleLord’s childhood.
The BattleLord was fighting for control the only way he had: by trying to remain himself. His memories, his truth overwriting Serenity’s.
Serenity saw the BattleLord’s life flash in front of him again, less organized but still intruding. A fight for a promotion. A battle between mages that FlameHeart should not have won - which won him his Name. Choosing to put his name in for the next planned invasion, and his plans afterwards.
It was a battle between Serenity’s Ambit and BattleLord FlameHeart’s Will. Serenity threw his own Will - his own Mind - behind his Ambit and pushed. This was his ability, his space, his mind. He chose what to do here, not another.
Serenity felt a barrier shatter and realized the BattleLord’s shield had only now shattered when he pushed. He felt whole in a way he hadn’t before; this room, this area was his. His to shape, his to control. His to choose what the potential would become. Finally, his mind began to dominate.
Serenity saw the BattleLord’s despair as all of his plans for the invasion fell apart and took the moment to push. Not with his memories, but with his control - his ability to wash away the memories of another. The gift he’d brought back from the Guardian Sea might well save his life today.
The BattleLord’s childhood vanished. Unlike before, Serenity could still remember the general outline of it, but the details were gone.
Serenity had a moment of thankfulness that FlameHeart was an elementalist and not a Mind specialist.
Unfortunately, he was still focused on his mental attributes, and despite his lack of ability with the Mind or any of the related Affinities, that was still enough to push back against Serenity. Memories of learning elemental magic, especially Fire, poured into Serenity’s thoughts. It wasn’t much like the time Vengeance had spent learning more about Death magic or the time he’d spent learning more about magic in general; instead, it was purely focused on the practical details. How to make a spell faster. How to speak the tongue-twisting chants without losing them. Shortcuts for the gestures some spells had. How to tweak a spell to land exactly where you wanted it.
It was all valuable, but none of it would help you become better than your teachers. Without learning more than that, you’d cap out. Some of the bits and pieces might help you make it to Tier Five or even Six, but anything past Seven was a loss.
As he thought that, Serenity knew that the Kaelitha Lord was Tier Seven. No other Kaelitha Sterath was above Tier Six, and if they knew what was good for them they’d stay there.
No wonder they weren’t teaching anything that would pull them higher.
Serenity felt some of his area of control wavering under the onslaught of memory. He pushed the clot of memories into the River of Souls and felt FlameHeart straining to hold on. One more good shove was all it would take.
So Serenity pushed. His goal here was to kill BattleLord FlameHeart. Yes, it was an assassination. Serenity was fine with that; the general of an enemy army was a valid target. Yes, he might keep some of FlameHeart’s memories; that was simply good intelligence gathering. What he wouldn’t keep was FlameHeart’s soul.
That would be truly destroying the person, worse than simply killing him. Worse even than trapping a soul in a decaying body; Vengeance had always tried to stop that when he saw it, but there was an end to that. Once the body was gone, the soul could move on. Very, very few people were ever worthy of that level of punishment - and Serenity was convinced that they were exactly the people you shouldn’t give it to, in case they somehow figured out how to come back.
Serenity felt it when he finally won. BattleLord FlameHeart’s flame went out and he slid into the darkness of the River, vanishing from Serenity’s sight.
More of his memories were clear to Serenity than he would have chosen, but none were as bright as the ones he’d kept from others. It was a hard-fought battle and the results weren’t entirely what Serenity would have wanted.
[Your Fragment of the River of Souls has been integrated into the Merge ability]
Oh, that was good.
The world seemed to be oddly dim. Serenity tried to glance at his Status but all he saw was that he was very, very low on both mana and Essence.
He felt himself losing control of his shape. What shape was he even in?
He’d be fine. He knew that. No one here would harm him.
Darkness closed over Serenity. It wouldn’t be long before he woke. Surely it wouldn’t.
Rissa felt Serenity’s mana and Essence fall as she watched him fight. She couldn’t say anything for fear of distracting him at the wrong time, but she knew everyone around her had noticed how anxious she was. They’d probably guessed why, since she’d been updating the map as Serenity told her what he found in each location.
It was obvious that he was far too deep to be rescued before he was killed if something went very wrong. Rissa wasn’t certain that he could be killed, not for good, but she hoped she’d never have to find out.
All she could do was wait and watch. It was a good thing she could borrow his senses; she knew when he decided to attack and she knew when it almost went very wrong. She sent him as much energy as she could, but at this distance there wasn’t much she could do. She supported him when he pushed back, but gentle support was all she could muster.
It was frustrating. Her Mind Affinity was high - higher than his - but other than the telepathy she’d always had, he was better with it than she was. There was little she could do to help.
Eventually, he won. Rissa saw her chance; he was in bad shape and she knew he wasn’t going to be able to make it out without rest. She felt him shifting; for some reason, he wasn’t going to stay in his smokelike Sovereign shape.
So she pushed him over to a specific form. One that would keep him safe. It wasn’t difficult; if anything, it felt like the shape was one that he “wanted” to take.
Perhaps it was a mistake, but if it was a mistake that kept him from having his throat slit while he was unconscious…
It was too late now anyway. He was out.
Lillene
In some ways, this decision - to accept power even if it comes with a cost to his remaining humanity - is how Thomas ended up as the Final Reaper.
In other ways, it’s completely different; instead of vengeance, he’s accepting the price to prevent the loss.
He’s going down a path to an unknown future, one step at a time.
Of course, isn’t that what time means? Most of us can’t see the future.
