Feral Mage Book 2: Chapter 43.5

Bryce sat on the stone throne in the gray brick room. Memories flooded back to him of the last time he was here, of the woman who had whispered to him when he fought the monsters in his soul.

He glanced behind the throne and up, seeing the tall statue of the elven woman with four eyes, and felt his blood chill. He pushed himself up from the throne, standing as he took in the room.

“It’s like a prison,” Bryce said to himself, seeing the black iron bars built into the walls.

There were only a dozen cells, but something told Bryce that wasn’t a fixed number. After all, this wasn’t a real place. It was his soul, or at least that’s what he believed anyway.

He saw the Manticore watching him from one of the cells and approached it. The monster’s gaze was fixed on him, but it made no move to attack the iron bars of its cage.

The monster now looked so much smaller than when Bryce had lured it into the trap all those years ago. He had run like a madman, his lungs burning as he chased him into the cave, Bellamy eating a damn apple as he lead the monster to the pitfall trap, then finishing it with a spear. Bryce smiled faintly at the memory. He recalled wondering just what kind of woman Bellamy was to be so calm around such a monster.

Turning, he looked at the Primal Troll and Pale Queen in similar cells built into the wall. Just like the Manticore, they watched him, but made no moves to attack the bars to try to get to him. Finally, his gaze rested on the one object he had been ignoring. The one thing that he didn’t recall when he saw this place after defeating the monsters in his soul was the wooden oak door.

He moved farther away from the throne, passing by all the monsters as he approached the door. Images carved into the oak started to stand out, and he realized they were of monsters. Cockatrices, Basilisks, Howlers, and some Bryce had never seen or heard of were depicted on it. He grasped the iron handle of the door and pulled it open.

Before he could step through the door, the handle disappeared from his hand, and the gray stone room vanished, leaving Bryce standing somewhere new. He felt a chilly wind brush against his skin as he took in the ruined castle he was now standing in. The roof had rotted away with time, but a few walls of the structure still stood, marking what it had once been. Many were now partly collapsed and had roots and trees growing through them, though without leaves as if it were the midst of winter.

Bryce stared at the night sky above him. No stars or moon showed themselves, just a black, empty void. Yet as he gazed up into the darkness, the hairs on the back of his neck stood, and he quickly looked back down, feeling as if the void itself was watching him.

“Come, my champion,” a voice whispered.

Bryce turned toward it, seeing a pathway through the ruined castle as if to prompt him to move, and another gust of cold went over his body. He felt his skin prickle and realized for the first time that he was now nude.

I know I was wearing clothing when I opened the oak door.

His bare feet took their first steps within the strange place as he moved in the direction of the voice. He passed by more ruined walls with dead plants snaking their way through the masonry as he walked. He saw the hallway open up into a large room with a throne similar to the one in his soul, only this one had an elven woman with white hair and a black dress sitting in it. She gazed off to the side of the room as if she were bored.

When he crossed the threshold from the hallway into the large room, he noticed wisps of black smoke emanating from her dress. As if instead of fabric, it was made from magic. He watched as her legs shifted in the dress and realized her posture had changed on the throne. When he looked back at her face, his eyes met hers. Overwhelming fear filled him, and his knees buckled, dropping him to the floor.

Her eyes were pitch black, and he felt the same feeling looking into them as he did while staring up at the night sky in this strange place. It was as if her eyes and the void were the same. He fought against the fear, but could do little more than kneel as he met her gaze. Her lips shifted from an expression of disinterest to a smile.

“Well done, my chimera,” she said. “Most cannot tolerate my full gaze.”

Her lips never moved, but Bryce heard the words as if she were leaning down and whispering them into his ear.

“It is fitting that a disciple of Cain is the one to become my champion,” she said. “I was the one who taught him how to use my children’s souls to form Aspects.”

Bryce recalled the dream he had. In it, a man was standing over a stone centipede and was eating it as this woman watched.

“Who are you?” Bryce asked, his voice barely a whisper.

He heard laughter, but yet again her lips didn’t move.

“Where you hail from, I am known as Ciarra. Though I doubt you will recall much of our conversation when you wake.” Laughter echoed in his ear again. “Your mind will take time to adapt to my presence, my blessing.”

He didn’t like the sound of that and heard more laughter as he frowned.

“You will find my blessing most useful, my chimera. Though nothing is without a cost, and I will take mine from you one day, as I did with Cain.”

Bryce’s blood chilled at her words.

“What if I don’t want your blessing?” he asked, gritting his teeth as he gazed into the black void that were her eyes.

Her smile grew wider.

“You have no choice. You were chosen. You are my champion, an exertion of my force on your world. Just as the others have their own champions,” she said.

She stood from her throne and approached him, her black eyes examining him. When she stood in front of him, she reached out and gently brushed the back of her hand across his cheek.

“Serve me well, Bryce.”

He awoke in bed, his heart racing. He didn’t know what woke him. He only felt the dread that was now fleeing him. He stood, feeling the sweat on his body in the cool air of the room. He considered trying to fall back asleep, but his heart was still hammering away in his chest. Instead, he stood and got dressed, stepping from the bedroom to see how much sleep he had actually gotten before the strange dream.