14 – A Glimpse of the Forbidden

Victor sat with Valla, high atop a flat section of his villa’s roof, legs dangling over the side, as they watched the partygoers below. People were gathered in every corner of the garden, on the patio, down the way on the slopes of the lawn leading toward the portal hall, and even out on the street, where local vendors had set up stalls. The girls’ send-off had turned into a fair—Shadeni, Naghelli, and most of the local residents had turned out for the festivities.

Music filled the air, magical fairy lights—summoned and maintained by Efanie—flitted about, and the delicate aromas of nighttime flowers wafted up to paint quite a lovely picture. Valla seemed to agree. “A beautiful night,” she said, leaning her cheek against Victor’s shoulder.

“I’m glad you could make it.” As he spoke, a burst of laughter and a shower of blue sparks erupted from the garden fountain courtyard, and Victor saw Deyni, sitting atop Lesh’s shoulders, as her drake flew in circles, performing some sort of trick.

“It was a wonderful excuse to take a vacation—one I sorely needed.”

“Your master working you to death?”

Valla snorted. “You jest, but the truth isn’t far from that statement.”

Victor tilted his neck so his temple pressed against the top of her head. “But you’re happy? You’re learning a lot?”

“Oh yes. I won’t deny that it’s frustrating to see Lesh already a steel seeker—Arona, too. I might as well just say everyone when I cry about the progress people have made helping you with your conquest.”

“But…”

She chuckled. “But, my teachers have done well to drill into me the importance of strong foundations, patience, and the understanding that every soul has its own pace—its own journey.” She straightened up and turned to look into his eyes. “You never talk about what it’s like.” She held up her hand, palm out. “I know, I know. All the ‘great masters’ caution against telling iron rankers the ins and outs of hunting for steel, but aren’t you tired of letting the older generation dictate our behavior? Haven’t you learned enough to understand what wouldn’t be harmful to share?”

“Hmm.” Victor couldn’t deny that her words hit a nerve. His dancing around the subject of elder magic with Cora was especially fresh in his mind, and he had to agree that a bit too much caution was often applied by the likes of Ranish Dar and the other stodgy “masters” who took on students who were more passing acquaintances than anyone they truly cared about. He knew Valla well, and he’d be sure not to lead her astray. “Want to see?”

Her eyes widened, her wings twitched, making her feathers rustle, and she straightened further. “What do you mean?”

“I could show you my spirit space—my mantle-in-progress.”

She chuckled, but the sound was more nervous than amused. “You know I don’t have a Spirit Core—no spirit Energy. How would I travel to your…spirit space?”

“Well, my dear Valla, you might have wise masters, but I’ve learned a thing or two in the last few years. The truth of the matter is that everyone has some spirit Energy. Your affinity might be very low, and if you tried to travel alone, you wouldn’t get far, but once we cross over, I can keep you there. I’ve got Energy to spare.” He winked at her, but she wasn’t smiling. She looked excited, but also afraid.

“You’re serious?”

“Want me to show you? I’m sure you’ll have enough spirit-attuned Energy to cross over. Here”—he held out his hand, palm up—“take my hand.”

“Victor…” Her voice was tremulous as she put her long, slender fingers in his. “Are you sure this is wise?”

“Do you want to learn more about it or not?”

The challenge solidified her resolve, and she gripped his fingers firmly. “Show me.”

“First, we need to show you where your spirit-attuned Energy is. Open your inner eye and let me into your pathways.”

“Let you in…” She trailed off as Victor, already looking inward, sent a trickle of his hope-attuned Energy through his hand, probing into the aperture of the pathway in her palm. “Oh…” she breathed softly.

“Yeah, just don’t fight me. Pretend like it’s old times and we’re sharing a kiss.” He grinned to himself, knowing the words would tweak her emotions.

“You’re cruel,” she said, sighing the word out, but he heard the smile hidden in her tone.

As he drifted through her pathways, he said, “I can feel you with me. Your pathways are nice and wide! Nice work on them.”

“You’re not patronizing me, are you?”

“Nope. Are you nervous about me seeing your Core? Has anyone ever seen it?”

“Two,” she whispered, “Booraghi masters who were teaching me a better structure.”

“Well, don’t worry,” Victor replied, “I’ll show you mine in a minute.” As he spoke, his awareness slipped through the aperture into Valla’s Core space, and he paused there, focusing on the sight. Her Core reminded him of a storm—a vast cloud bank in the distance, whipped by wind and laced with constant, countless lightning strikes. The bolts of electricity radiated in yellow, blue, purple, and red. It was one of the most beautiful, yet violent things he’d ever seen, and he immediately loved it.

“Chingado!” he hissed. “That’s a hell of a Core, Valla.”

Her pride was unmistakable as she asked, “You think so?”

“Hell yes.” Victor pushed his awareness closer to the storm. “Come on.” As he felt her follow, he asked, “Anyone talk to you about how your Core is linked to your spirit?”

“Only in theory. I’ve never done anything with the knowledge.”

“Well, think of the Core as a link between your spirit and your body. It’s a bridge between the material and the spirit planes. When a person casts Spirit Walk, that’s the gateway they use to slip through the veil.”

“So, to go to your spirit space—”

“Nope, that’s a little different. My spirit space uses the same gateway, but it’s not on the spirit plane. Think of it like a pocket dimension, like what’s inside a dimensional container.”

“Or a dungeon?”

Victor nodded. “Sure. It shares the properties of the spirit plane, though, by default. As I modify or expand it, those properties will change to reflect the reality I build.” By then, they’d drifted over the top of Valla’s storm-like Core, and he began to sink into it, gleefully watching as the massive, colorful lightning strikes surrounded his point of view. “We’ll find the opening to your spirit at the center of your Core. I don’t think I could do this with anyone who didn’t fully trust me, so thank you.”

Out in the physical world, Valla’s fingers entwined with his, and he felt her squeeze gently. “I’ll always trust you.”

Smiling, Victor continued to drift downward. He always felt at ease when he and Valla were close, and he hoped that would remain the case. He knew their lives were on different paths at the moment. Still, over the last few years, as he’d met more and more people and seen the disparate, convoluted, and lengthy paths their lives had taken, he felt ever-hopeful that the two of them would find their way back to each other, eventually.

When they’d descended to the very center of Valla’s Core, Victor said, “See that? See how the Energy pulsates there? See how it seems to circulate and feed off itself before flowing out into your…storm?”

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“I see it,” Valla whispered.

“Use your will, like you would with any Energy manipulation, and feel around in there. Find some spirit Energy. I don’t know what attunement it might have, but—”

“I feel something! It’s like…” She hesitated, then a small, gentle laugh escaped her as she announced, “It feels like you. Like love and loyalty and—” Her words failed her as her voice grew thick with emotion.

Victor squeezed her hand. “That’s sweet, but that’s you, silly. Grasp onto a strand of it, and don’t let go. We’ll pull it toward my spirit space now.” With that, Victor guided Valla’s presence back through her pathways, then into his.

As soon as they started toward his Core Space, she laughed again. “You’re so absurd! I can’t believe you were complimenting my pathways. It feels like I could drift forever in this channel! Ancestors, Victor! How much Energy do you have? Your spells must be so hungry!”

“Don’t compare yourself to me, chica. Breaking through the mortal ranks changes things. I’ve been at it a while, too. I can even sense the veil.”

“What? Truly?”

Victor nodded before he remembered she wasn’t looking at him with her physical eyes. “Yep. I’m getting close.” He was moving fast, and as he spoke, they drifted into his Core space, and Valla fell behind as she, apparently, struggled to take it in. It had been a while since Victor had tried to look at his Core objectively, but he did so then, drifting back beside her and turning his attention to his various Energies.

Where Valla had a storm, Victor had the roaring furnace of a sun. His hope-attuned Energy made up the bulk of it—a great, pale blue star that seemed impossibly vast to his inner eye. Encircling the star, pulsing with their own brand of fire, were the bands of his rage and fear—a smoldering crimson ring and a shadow-filled purple-black one, that constantly rotated, shifting constantly to maintain their balance. The thing that had likely given Valla pause was the sheer scale of his Core construct. Hers—her storm—if drawn out and stretched around the star at the center of his Core space, would be a narrow, delicate band, far outstripped by even his rage-attuned Energy.

“It’s amazing, Victor. Even this—this glimpse at a near-veil walker’s Core—is something that will fuel my studies for months, maybe years! Thank you!”

“Pssh. Come on, follow me.” Ensuring she still trailed her strand of spirit Energy, he drew her closer to his Core, until the roiling star of his hope-attuned Energy was all they could see before them. “We’ll drift toward the center. Visualize your hand in mine—like it is in reality—and let me draw you through. Don’t let go of your spirit Energy, though!”

“Got it!” Valla replied, tightening her grip on his physical hand. Before anything could go wrong, Victor surged into his Core, gliding toward the gateway that he knew was there—a bright portal into his spirit space, through which great torrents of Energy poured in and out. In less than a heartbeat, they were through, and his awareness snapped into his spirit construct—his body in that world. Valla, likewise, took on an aspect that reflected her self-image. To Victor’s amusement, her wings were gone, and she was significantly smaller than on the material plane.

“This is amazing!” she cried, looking around, turning in a circle to take it all in. Suddenly, she began to fade, though, and she cried out. “I feel like I’m slipping—”

Victor hastily bolstered the thread of spirit Energy trailing away from her, flowing through the gateway, and she solidified. “You need to maintain that connection so your awareness can exist here, but I can strengthen it with my Energy.”

“Thank you!” As she steadied, she looked around again. “What is this place? It’s part house, part garden, part library…” Her words trailed off as her eyes fell on the tangled web of colorful threads hanging in the gray expanse of nothingness. “What is that?”

Victor shrugged, gesturing around to the various spaces he’d created over the last few years. “Sometimes I take a meal over there, even though I don’t need to eat here. It helps me think. That area there is where I keep my armor and Lifedrinker. See her there?”

“Ah! Dear Ancestors! She’s changed!”

Victor chuckled. “Yeah. You should say hello to her before we leave.” He pointed to a long open-air walkway lined with bookcases. “I keep my texts and notebooks there. But there”—he pointed to the cluttered tables closer to hand—“is where I do most of my work.”

“What kind of work?”

“Pattern design, mostly.” Victor walked over the ornate carpeting toward his skein. “This won’t be the same for you—at least, it isn’t for Arona or Lesh. In any case, these threads represent pivotal moments in my life. The various colors are sort of clues as to their nature—fighting-related, emotional, and so on. To build my mantle, I take the threads over to this”—Victor pointed to the framework where the single thread in its beautiful, ornate pattern hung, glittering with its inner silver-gold light—“and weave them into patterns.”

“But there are so many!” She traced the single thread with her eyes, over to the framework where it fed the complex design. “And you’ve only used one?”

He chuckled. “Don’t rub it in! Nah, the truth is, I just restarted the work. I tore out thousands of threads—wrecked years’ worth of pattern design.” When she stared at him, awaiting an explanation, he shrugged. “Sometimes you need to clean a mess before you can see what you need to build.”

She moved closer to his framework, her eyes wide as she stared at the intricate weave. “I can’t begin to wrap my head around this pattern. It reminds me of a spell, but there’s too much going on.”

Victor hesitated for a moment, then realized that if there was any place in existence the System couldn’t eavesdrop on him, it was inside his own spirit. “That’s modeled on elder magic patterns.”

Valla jerked her gaze toward him. “Truly?”

“Yep. Haven’t you seen any? I would think teachers like those ancient whales would—”

“They’re not whales!” Valla cried, but she was smiling, on the verge of giggling.

“But they don’t show you any elder magic?”

“Not yet. I think they fear…” She shrugged. “You know.”

“The System? I guess they’re familiar with disruptors, then. You don’t have to worry in here. Go ahead”—he nodded toward the pattern—“get a good look.” The truth was that he was exceedingly proud of it, and he loved the idea of sharing it with someone. After a brief hesitation, Valla turned back to the framework, letting her eyes drift over it. After a moment, she reached out, and before Victor could caution her, touched the thread.

“Oh!” she cried, and suddenly tears sprang from her eyes, streaming down her cheeks. Victor stepped close, putting an arm over her shoulders and pulling her against him. “I told you those threads are like memories. Damn, Valla. I didn’t mean for you to—”

She turned toward him, burying her face in his chest. “Oh, Victor!” she sobbed, and he chuckled, gently patting her back.

“Hush, now. It’s all right.” He gently stroked her hair.

“It wasn’t all bad, but it was so strong. Such emotions! Oh my goodness—your grandmother! She’s so sweet!”

“Yeah,” he said, still chuckling, “she was. Is? Well, I can hope.”

“Oh, that’s right…” Valla straightened, pushing away from him as she sniffled, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I can see why you chose that memory, though. It has so much of you in it—your fear, your love, your courage…” She trailed off as she turned toward his skein, wandering over to the tangle of threads. “How many more will you wave into it?”

“I don’t know.” Victor followed her over. “I just know that quantity isn’t king, because with just that single thread, in the pattern I created, I have a stronger mantle than when I’d worked in thousands of threads.”

“That’s fascinating…” She was practically whispering as she moved closer, her hand raised, tentatively stretching toward the threads. Victor considered warning her or even pulling her away, but she knew what she was getting into. He’d let her decide if she wanted to risk touching any more. After several long moments, she let her hand fall, shaking her head. “I think you should build on the theme you have there.” She nodded toward his framework and the mantle he'd woven. “I’d love to spend hours or days in here helping you to sort through the threads, but I think it would be too much. Too…intimate.” She smiled at him, almost sadly. “It’s really not my place.”

Victor shrugged. “There’s not much I wouldn’t share with you, Valla.”

“I know. That’s what gives me pause; I don’t deserve such openness from you. Not now. Someday, perhaps, but there’s much I would share with you, too, and I’m not ready.” She turned back to the skein. “Will you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

She hesitantly pointed toward a thread. It was one of the red-tinted ones, though it had a metallic sheen that tinted toward purple. “Will you tell me what that thread is? It tugs at my awareness.”

“Yeah?” Victor frowned, intrigued. He stepped closer and reached out to grasp it. Immediately, he was drawn into the memory it contained, and he chuckled, shaking his head. “Shit, Valla. This isn’t one I’m very proud of. It’s the time I almost lost control of the Aspect of Terror, and I hunted you through the woods outside the city. Do you remember?”

“What a question, Victor! How could I forget?” She put a hand on his shoulder. “There’s nothing for you to be ashamed of, however. You stopped yourself, despite all the odds; you found the will to control that aspect of yourself. It took me a while to come to terms with it, but later I learned to love that side of you as well. Your fear is part of your story, and your mastery of it is a testament to your character. Do you think that thread would fit in your new mantle?”

Victor thought it over, scratching his chin out of habit. It was a powerful memory, without a doubt. Did it embody the right parts of his spirit, though? Fear was certainly there, but so was love. So was triumph. “I think it might, Valla. I’ll need to spend some time mulling over the right kind of pattern for it, though.” He waved a hand toward the framework. “I need to think about how it will fit into that one.”

Valla nodded, turning to look around his spirit space again. Her eyes settled on the cobbled walkway leading into his garden. “Can you show me around? Was all of this here when you first gained access to this space, or did you shape it?”

“I made it. I’ll show you around, but keep in mind, I’m not exactly a decorator. I’m kind of impulsive about the things I make in here. Come on, let's—” He broke off mid-sentence as he became aware of a presence in the material plane. When Valla looked at him questioningly, he said, “Edeya is poking me in the chest. I think our absence from the party has been noticed.”

Valla laughed. “Very well—perhaps a tour another day. Thank you so much for sharing all of this with me; you’ve no idea how excited I am to put my thoughts to paper.”

“Nah, the truth is, I wanted to show that pattern to someone. It’s the greatest thing I’ve ever made.” He stepped toward the portal leading back to his Core space. “Shall we?”

Valla took his hand, nodding. “We shall.”