57 Memories 3 (1/2)
”So it was Stardust?” Nikolai already knew the answer to his question, but staring at Petrov's twitching form he still couldn't believe it. Eyes rolled back, shivering uncontrollably but with an almost fanatical expression, Nikolai would have to be blind not to recognise the symptoms of fierce Stardust addiction. Especially with his own hands shuddering at the moment. Kazimierz had returned to his human form but without his silver mask. There was no point in hiding himself anymore.
”Yes.” Kazimierz strolled to a desk lacking the ashen complexion of the rest of the hall, ignoring the almost comatose Petrov.
”He didn't deserve this.” Nikolai whispered.
”Don't make any mistakes Master Morales. This man was already far gone, well before I came along.”
That would explain why Petrov always refused any deep Magical inspection. There would have been no malady to discover.
”So he betrayed me for Stardust?”
”People will do a lot for an addiction.” Kazmierz rifled through several items on the desk, placing what looked an old spell focus to the side in his hurried search. That wasn't really an explanation, but Kazimierz was indifferent to Nikolai's queries.
He turned away from Petrov, unwilling to stare at the man who would so casually poison him. Even if he'd been enticed by Kazimierz and his concoctions. Still, some part of him wanted to drag Petrov by the collar and get answers. Hear the words of betrayal from his mouth before he could believe it. The man had followed him on the campaign which cemented the allegiance of the Dragon Lords. Nikolai had saved his life. More than once.
Kazimierz barked an order and Nikolai grimaced as he was dragged to the ornate chair placed like a throne at the back of the hall. The red streak that was Zebreski's soul rose within the Anima.
”You recognise this place?” the feminine lilt seemed to indicate surprise. It was difficult to make out any emotion in the Anima, but the pulses in Zebreski's mirror worked both ways, bringing some of the sentiment of its caster towards Nikolai as well.
Nikolai wanted to refuse but the now familiar tug on his memories brought him to a time and place he'd hoped to forget.
[The orb had stopped glowing sometime over the last few days, but Nikolai stared at it as if it was his salvation. Which it was in a way. The attacks were getting worse, and they'd been pushed back to a small defensive ring bordering the southern wall. He'd lost count of how many strange new horrors and even squads of Nostrum's elites, they'd fought against. Every few hours a new rift would appear somewhere in the city, disgorging hundreds if not thousands of enemies. Nikolai couldn't stop the rifts, the Magic somehow tied to the barrier which trapped them. Desperate, Nikolai had set up a series of defensive formations at the cost of hundreds of his defenders lives as they held each of the focus points until his Magical defences gained power. All the spell foci scrounged from across the battlefield went into the formation but Nikolai knew this was a last gasp, the defenders spent. It wouldn't matter if he was out of supplies now.
Yet, the orb in his hand held their final hope, even if his allies didn't know it. In the brief interludes between attacks, Nikolai had studied it, believing Grand Master Shubukin wouldn't have guarded it so carefully otherwise. It was also the only thing to have survived the black flames. His belief was justified when the arcane locks crumbled under his Magical assays, a combination of standard Imperial lockbreaker spells which he'd utilised when his own failed. The Grand Master didn't care who got the orb as long as they'd passed through the Imperial War Academy.
Now that the locks were broken, Nikolai stared at the ancient Azokarri spell focus. He'd dealt with a few during his apprenticeship, his Master's escapades had gathered innumerable foci, although most were for far more innocuous purposes.The Azokarri had taken Magic to untold heights, contesting against the Gods and even more ancient beings. Their foci were therefore far more complicated, yet simple. He didn't need to decipher any of the spell structures, the focus would guide him. Its purpose was clearly emblazoned in a spiralling set of runes that swam lazily within the orb. It was a Soul Rending formation, designed to shred both the material and immaterial.
Both Magic and flesh.
The problem was how to activate it.
Azokarri spell foci followed a system which modern Mages just couldn't understand. Too much had been lost over centuries and millennia of wars and Divine conflicts which were now just myths. Nonetheless, there was an alternate method to activate it.
Gaining the semi-sentient foci's approval.
Nikolai wiped the focus with a tattered handkerchief and stared at the swirls of conflicting Magic out of the shattered holes in the buildings roof. Checking the few words on the slip of Arcane paper which would appear before his parents if he died, he closed his eyes and drew on as much energy as he could, drowning in the overwhelming power. An ancient word rose up in his mind as the focus responded to his might and he uttered it through clenched teeth.
The focus exploded with raw Magic, drawing his soul into its depths. Dismissive of the snarling Will within his blood.]
”Then what did you see?” Kazimierz loomed over Nikolai, his vaporous form boiling in agitation.
”I faced some trials.” Nikolai smirked at the Anima, settling into the chair comfortably even though the guards were eyeing his every move. His grin expanded when Zebreski's mirror didn't activate. Glittering runes shone in his eyes, the memories of his time in the orb protected by the spell which bound him to the Azokarri focus. Even though it had been shattered long ago, its protection remained. He would have jumped in joy at being able to conceal something if his legs had any strength that is. Trying to stay calm as his memories were pulled out for the Anima's study was becoming increasingly difficult with each passing moment.
”As expected. Getting the information out of you will be difficult.” Kazimierz returned to the desk, casting small spells that sent sparks of light across the room. The Anima's form blocked Nikolai's view, even using Sight, and he searched the room for anything he could use to escape. Or make his captors' lives difficult. They weren't taking chances though, having pulled down everything that had survived the war and piling them in a corner.
”You don't have much time. Why not stop?” Nikolai wiggled his fingers, pointing to the doorway. ”I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement once you let me go.”
”That depends on you knowing what I want.”
”Information about the Azokarri, foci, or Soul Rending.” There were only so many explanations for Kazimierz' questions.
”While that would make sense, there's a little more to it than that.”
”Don't like being smoke?” Nikolai twitched at the churning Anima. Needling his captor like this wasn't prudent, but he felt buoyant. Whether from drugs, the spell or the thought of imminent rescue, he behaved as a far younger Nikolai Morales did: unabashed and insolent.
”Let me ask you something Master Morales.” Kazimierzcollapsed into his human form, smoke curling carefully into the image of a smiling young man, curly hair swaying in the wind. Kazimierz came before the throne, looking up at Nikolai, head tilted in contemplation. ”What do you think a Soul is?”
Nikolai peered down at the Anima, leaning back in the throne as he considered the question.
”No one really knows.” He offered. ”Anymore that is. The Azokarri did.”
”The Azokarri thought they did.” Kazimierz' gestured at the city through a shattered wall. ”Your spell proved that. I doubt they considered the consequences of their actions.”
”You?” Nikolai stared at suddenly freezing hands, trying to clench them through the spasms. The Anima had flat out told Nikolai he was responsible for his creation.
”Me. Us. Them.” With each word, Kazimierz voice changed. ”I wasn't a bad man.”
”That's what you tell yourself.” A hazy purple form leaked out of the Anima and hovered over his shoulder, deep voice echoing across the hall.
”Living under Nostrum's heel required compromises.” Kazimierz' voice leaked pain, as if he'd experience countless horrors.
”That's what we told ourselves.” The red soul of Zebreski coalesced beside Kazimierz and grasped his shoulder in comfort.
”They needed someone who could stay strong even if the whole world was against them.”
”That's why you survived.” Ten thousand voices burst from the Anima.
”So forgive me for this.” Kazimierz pulled a small glass bead from his sleeve, delicately holding it before Nikolai like he was afraid it would crack under a sigh. The words were accompanied by a pulse of power, dormant veins of energy underground lighting up as the bead slowly rose into the air. Nikolai groaned as the hall was filled with Magic overpowering his senses and bleeding into his every pore. Kazimierz stood cradling the bead, struggling to maintain his human form as blasts of power ripped sections of his body to shreds. Multiple souls formed around the bead, chanting spells that made the Magical runes of Zebreski's mirror orbit the hall, growing ever more powerful. Streams of vapour from Kazimierz rose to form a spinning vortex of souls, thousands of voices chanting ancient words that Nikolai couldn't understand. The vortex pulled on the Anima, dragging even more souls into it. Kazimierz and his companions coalesced further as the vortex expanded, their voices gaining clarity, their forms becoming sharper.
Kazimierz threw the bead into the air where it hovered, pulling immense waves of energy from the ground. Nikolai felt the bead calling to him and he looked up. Under his gaze it sent a stream of power into his mind, locking onto the ancient Azokarri runes which protected his memories. Nikolai grit his teeth, bracing himself for the expected assault, but it never came.