Chapter 462: Connotations (2/2)

“Why is Jason building this bridge to this place anyway?” Neil asked. “Where even are we?”

“He’s not coming to this place,” Dawn said. “What he’s doing is outside of even my experience. He may arrive at the same place he arrived the first time, somewhere completely random or at a location equivalent to one of his…”

“What is it?” Clive asked after Dawn trailed off.

“Some things are better not said aloud,” she said. “Suffice to say, any potential location for Jason’s arrival would be a guess on our part.”

“Then what are we doing all the way out here?” Neil asked. “Does this town even have a name?”

“Of course it has a name,” Jory said.

“What is it?”

“I don't exactly remember,” Jory admitted.

“Mr Xandier was here,” Dawn said. “I needed his help and this place has fewer eyes and ears. I had enough influence with the Adventure Society to send you all here, so I did.”

“You’ve been warning the Adventure Society,” Humphrey said.

“Yes,” Dawn acknowledged. “This will not merely be cultists snatching away astral spaces. This will be war.”

Dawn departed from the group to resume her work preparing the Adventure Society as best she could. Rufus returned to Greenstone, both to settle his affairs before Jason’s arrival and in case it was the place he arrived. With no better plan than to wait, the others left for the city of Zartos. Home to Gary’s mentor, Virid and the diamond-ranker’s personal smithy.

“It’s the best place to forge a great work,” Virid said.

Gary and Virid spent days examining the sword, seeking to understand it. They carefully selected the supplemental materials they would use and familiarised themselves with the soul echo bonded to the weapon.

The forging was a collaboration, not just between Gary and Virid but also Jason. In many ways, it was the soul-bond that guided the most critical aspects of the work and shaped the final result.

Zartos was a subterranean city built around an underground river, largely populated by celestines. While Gary and Virid worked, the others enjoyed their reunion. None of them had felt entirely whole as a team since Jason’s death. As with Rufus and Gary, the loss of a friend and companion had led to them taking separate paths where previously they would have resisted.

Gary and Virid were sealed away in Virid’s smithy for nineteen days before they finally emerged. The sword Gary showed the team was wholly unlike what it had been before. Before even its appearance, the blade had a domineering aura that gave a sense that even looking at it was somehow a transgression. There was a benevolence as well, but one looking down from above.

“That’s quite a weapon, Gary,” Humphrey said. “A real aura from a weapon is quite a feat, especially an aura that strong.”

“The aura comes from the soul bond, and Virid covered many of my flaws,” Gary confessed. “He pushed me to heights I could not reach alone. The soul bond also guided me. It’s like the sword knew what it wanted to be.”

The hilt was a simple design of milk-white metal with onyx embellishments and bone grip. The blade was a black so dark as to be unnerving, as if looking upon it was forbidden. Symbols were carved into the blade, starkly contrasted in white.

“That’s the same language used in the brand Jason inflicts with his spell,” Clive said. “The one that applies the mark of sin affliction.”

“That brand was on me once,” Sophie said. “It actually means something?”

“It’s an ideographic language,” Clive said.

“A what?” Sophie asked.

Like Jason, Clive had the power to speak and read all languages. Unlike Jason, he had used it as a springboard for study.

“It’s a language where a single symbol can embody a complex concept,” Clive explained. “Whether a symbol is alone or contextualised by others can hugely impact the meaning. The symbol from Jason’s brand translates to sinner, which makes sense. It’s accompanied by an affliction called the mark of sin.”

“Are these symbols Jason’s native language?” Belinda asked.

“No,” Clive said. “This is something much older.”

“I don’t even know what it says,” Gary admitted. “It just kind of felt right to mark them on the blade as I was working it. It’s the soul bond. I named the original sword Dread Salvation, but I think it might have renamed itself and that’s what we’re looking at. What does it say, Clive?”

“Hegemon’s Will.”

“You said one symbol conveys a complex concept, right?” Sophie asked.

“It can,” Clive said. “This language has the primary, conceptual symbols, and the secondary, contextual symbols.”

“The sword has six symbols,” Sophie said. “That seems like a lot of context for a short name.”

“There are connotations,” Clive said.

“What kind of connotations?” Sophie asked.

“You felt the aura,” Clive said. “That kind of connotations.”

“Oh, great,” Neil said. “Sounds like Jason’s time away gave him the humility he so badly needed.”

The journey was proving immensely valuable to Jason. The tiny bubble of his spirit realm was a projection of his soul being cast through the infinity that was the deep astral, only the world link it clung to saving him from drifting helplessly forever. His soul was immersed in magic at its most pure and powerful, with even simple meditation accelerating his insights into the most fundamental aspects of cosmic power.

His most common meditative technique was the dance of the sword fairy that Rufus had taught him. Jason was trying to use it to get a better grasp of entering the combat trance state, which he was still struggling to fully master. More than just a simple battle trance, he sought oneness with the cosmos that he was closer to now than he was likely to ever be again.

“You're not Luke Skywalker,” Farrah called out from her lounger.

“Shut up,” he said, continuing his sword dance uninterrupted.

“Anakin, maybe. Prequels, not Clone Wars.”

Jason stumbled.

“That’s just low,” he muttered as she laughed.

Farrah was less enamoured than Jason of the journey. For her it was more waiting, which she'd done plenty of while Jason was in the two transformation zones. She became increasingly agitated as her home, family and friends grew closer, yet felt so far away. Days turned into weeks as they continued their passage through the astral.

Jason went back to his meditative dance as she was listening to music on a recording crystal, lounging in a deck chair made of clouds.

“This is not traditional meditative music,” Jason commented.

“If you don’t like Laura Branigan, that’s not my problem.”

Jason stopped his sword dance again.

“I’m the one who… you didn’t give her essences as well, did you?”

“I wouldn’t do that without telling you.”

“No? Do we need to discuss Pat Benatar?”

“Who told…? I mean, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I should have worked harder to get you back home,” Jason said, shaking his head as he tilted it back to look helplessly at the rainbow sky. “I think you’ve gone native.”

His eyes narrowed, still looking up.

“Was that a tree?”