41 – The Other Side
Gathering his will, Victor meticulously pulled his fear-attuned Energy away from his singular Core construct, once again forming it into its own globe. He remembered the herculean effort it had been to force the fear to bend to his will back on Sojourn when he’d rebuilt his Core, and, in comparison, this seemed almost effortless. Had he grown so much? It didn’t seem to him that his will was that much greater than when he’d left Sojourn; however, he had gained many levels and undergone many trials and tribulations.
“That’s good, Victor,” Chantico said, her voice reverberating through his Core space. “Your fear-attuned Energy responds well to you. I can see you’ve done much to master it.” Her words drove home the point that his control over his Energy was impacted by more than just his will attribute. His domination of Drok the Skull and subsequent feasting upon his terror-attuned Energy had led to more than one breakthrough.
As he pulled the last of his fear away from his central Core and compressed it into the dense, glowering, purple-black globe, he turned his attention to his rage. Once again, he went through the process of separating the looping, swirling ribbon of crimson Energy from his central Core, and, once again, he found it easier than before. He focused his will and, over the course of what felt like minutes to him, drew the Energy away, building another dense orb near the fear-attuned one.
When he finished, he opened his eyes and looked at Chantico, who sat patiently, holding his hands in hers. He knew she was being supportive, but he also knew the contact allowed her to see what he was doing in his Core space. “Is this taking longer than it seems? I spent days working to pull that energy into those bands.”
“Likely, yes. Time is strange here; we’re in a world of your making. Just as memories of whole days or years can pass by in a blink of the eye, your time at work on your Core may be compressed by your mental perception.”
“Wouldn’t you notice?”
“Not while my spirit wanders here.” She shrugged. “In a way, I’m in your nascent spirit world, Victor. This is a place that you control, though you haven’t learned how to do so consciously. It matters little to me, however. I could leave if I so desired, but I find you and this process fascinating. Honestly, I’ve come to more personal revelations in my time with you than I managed over decades of contemplation.”
“Will that balance the karmic debt between us?”
Her smile fell away, and she squeezed his hands. “Now, the hard part will begin. You must abolish your affinities for glory and inspiration; this will be an arduous process that will prove more and more difficult as you proceed. Much of your determination is rooted in those two affinities, and you’ll be forced to rely on other aspects of your character to power through. It’s imperative that you don’t stop until the work is complete.”
Victor narrowed his eyes in determination. “I did plenty of difficult shit before I had inspiration or glory.”
“I know. If you must rely on your rage, then do so.”
“So what do I do?”
“When you created your fear affinity, did you not learn to strip a portion of your Energy of its affinity?”
“Ah, yeah.” Victor nodded. “So I do the same thing with my inspiration and glory?”
“Yes. Glory first, I’d say. Then, your inspiration in stages. Do you understand my meaning?”
Victor nodded. He understood, and he wasn’t as worried as she was. He’d built his inspiration out of nothing, hadn’t he? He’d lived most of his life relying on rage—he could do so again for a short time. He knew, without her telling him, that fear was not the Energy he should feed to his spirit when it came to a difficult task. Rage, though? Rage could do the job. He closed his eyes, focused on his Core space, and pulled the glory-attuned Energy away from his brilliant orb of inspiration.
It flowed easily, far more malleable than fear or rage. When he had it built into a glittering, spectacular orb of Energy, Victor focused his will and bore down on it, pressing with all of his figurative might. As he destroyed this source of positive, wonderful Energy, Victor made war with himself, wondering if he was making a terrible mistake. He trusted Chantico; she’d come through for him more than once. Still, he’d worked hard for this glory. It had worked hard for him.
How many times had he waged war under the banner of his glory? How many times had his enemies felt the burning glare of his glorious, bloody sun? How many times had the crowd’s cheers regenerated his exhausted, weary body? How many times had those cheers filled the emptiness that gnawed at the core of his being? Growling, Victor fueled his determination with rage, letting it simmer with depthless heat at the base of his will construct. He encircled his glory-attuned Energy with that relentless force and snuffed it out, crushing it into gray, lusterless Energy, eradicating every trace of the Glory that once had been.
“Good, Victor!” Chantico’s encouragement bolstered Victor, and despite the increased sensation of emptiness making him feel somewhat listless, he channeled more rage into his pathways, strengthening his resolve as he siphoned half of his inspiration-attuned Energy out of his core, squeezing it into a separate orb. As he bore down on it, compressing and annihilating that wonderful white-gold glow, he wept. Tears that glittered with the strange light of that spirit world poured down his cheeks, and Chantico gripped his hands tighter.
Victor thought of all the times his inspiration-attuned Energy had served him so well, and he nearly faltered. He nearly stopped. Somehow, some fear leaked into his mind, and he began to wonder if this was some sort of trick or trap. Was this being, this woman guiding him, truly Chantico, his ancestor? What if she were some manifestation of his curse, deceiving him into destroying the best parts of himself? What would he be without his inspiration? As the thought crossed his mind, he relaxed in his efforts, and the orb of inspiration-attuned Energy flared more brightly.
“Little brother,” Chantico whispered, “look into yourself. Know the truth of things—that Energy isn’t what makes you who you are; it’s a reflection of one aspect of your being. When you build up your new affinity, it will encapsulate that part of you and much more!”
Victor nodded, gritting his teeth, and then he opened the floodgates on his rage, using that furious Energy to bolster his will. He focused past that pain-filled tunnel, past the blurry confusion, to where he knew he would stand whole again. Yes, he was destroying a vital part of himself, but it was like breaking a crooked bone in order to set it straight and give it a chance to grow stronger than before. He could visualize it—a Core more powerful, with a positive Energy that outshone his fear and rage, one that wasn’t overshadowed by them.
With a pulse of despair and self-loathing, he used his prodigious will to crush the white-gold brilliance from the globe, leaving him with another pool of listless gray, unattuned Energy. Groaning, struggling to maintain his hopeful spirit, Victor focused his attention on the other half of his inspiration-attuned Energy. Once more, he brought his will to bear, surrounding the much-reduced orb and pressing down, squeezing the attunement out of it.
His mind had become numb by then, and he no longer wept. He felt robotic, but he knew that wouldn’t do; he couldn’t crush the attunement out of so much Energy without a little passion. Once again, he called on his rage, as he always used to do when things were dire. He thought of the people who’d wronged him. He thought of those he cared about on Ruhn and how the corruption of the veil walkers was threatening their very existence.
Despite the unreal nature of his body in that place, just as he’d shed tears, he began to simmer with rage. His flesh grew hot, his breathing grew ragged, and a low, deep growl formed in the pit of his stomach. He visualized breaking free of his self-entombment and slaughtering his foes. He knew that, to make that vision a reality, he had to crush this ball of Energy. He had to break his affinity. Just like that, with the force of his will, bolstered by the fury in his heart, Victor snuffed out his inspiration, and a fresh, raw wave of hopelessness overcame him, washing the rage from his pathways.
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He might have wallowed for years or centuries, but Chantico’s soothing voice came to him, “You did it, Victor. The hard part is over.” She released his hands and leaned forward to grasp his shoulders, shaking him. “There’s no time to wallow, Victor. Push through this brief despair. Just because your Energy is gone doesn’t mean your inspiration is. Tell me, does losing your glory-attuned Energy erase all of your glorious deeds?”
Victor realized he was staring into space between them, focusing on the weird shifting Energy in the air. He blinked and lifted his gaze, peering into her eyes. He took a minute to remember what she’d asked him, but when he reviewed her words, he found himself shaking his head. “No. I still beat those pinché sons of bitches.”
“That’s right! Do you need love-attuned Energy in order to love?”
Victor inhaled deeply, expanding his chest and pushing away the ennui that had begun to cloud his mind. He nodded, forcing a smile. “I get it. I didn’t give up my inspiration; I just broke my affinity for it.”
Chantico nodded. “But remember, Victor: your inspiration and glory were echoes of something greater. Let’s build your new affinity, shall we? Gather up that unattuned Energy and push it into your pathways; circulate it through your body. While you’re at it, cultivate this Energy around you; this potential will make the process much easier. That treasure you consumed was the perfect thing for such a momentous task. We’ll build your Core stronger than ever before.”
Victor closed his eyes and did as she asked. He took the sluggish, uninspired gray Energy in his Core space and pulled it into a long thread, dragging it out into his pathways. Then, he reached out with his will, drawing in the Energy around him through the pathway openings in his palms. He’d never tried to cultivate Energy that didn’t match or at least wasn’t closely related to his attunements, but this Energy wasn’t exactly not attuned to him.
The Energy both was and wasn’t attuned to everything. It was potent, too, and as Victor wound it around the unattuned Energy already in his pathways, drawing it deep into himself, he began to vibrate with its power. He knew this wasn’t his physical body; it was a representation of it, but he wondered if the real thing was going through those reactions, too. Wasn’t his body already being affected by the potential-attuned Energy? Wasn’t it waking up his deepest ancestral traits? Could he survive that and his Core alteration at once?
“Victor! Be careful of your stray thoughts! The goal of this is to imprint your desired affinity on the Energy in your pathways. Now is the time to remember your life. Remember the times you fell into despair and fought your way out. Think about the things you believe in and the goals you have for yourself. What do you hope for, Victor? What hopes keep you going when all else is darkness?
Chantico’s words had the desired effect, and Victor’s mind turned toward more positive things. He thought about how, when he was a child, desperate for the love of his mother, his abuela stepped into that void, and he began to believe that things would get better. He remembered longing to fit in with his cousins and the desperate, misguided attempts to make that hope a reality. He never gave up, though, did he? In the end, he’d earned his cousins’ respect and even their love. Hadn’t they been there to cheer him on at his matches?
He remembered how he’d trained—how he’d run to school instead of taking the bus. He was the first to set out the mats and the last to get off them. He was the one who’d insisted his older cousins wrestle with him on the dried grass in the back of his abuela’s house. How they’d punished him for it! Even so, he’d loved every minute of it. Why? Because he’d set his mind on winning state before he graduated. He was driven, but what was behind that drive? It had to be hope, right? He’d hoped that he could win; he’d hoped that people would be impressed—he’d hoped that the recognition would fill the void he hadn’t really known was there.
Maybe it hadn’t been the healthiest way out—but it had worked. It could’ve been worse. If he hadn’t found that hope and hadn’t latched onto it, what kinds of trouble might he have gotten into? He turned his mind to his life since leaving Earth. He thought about the time he had spent fighting at the Wagon Wheel. What had kept him going then? He’d fallen into despair more than once, but he always found a glimmer of hope, didn’t he? He never truly believed he was stuck.
When he’d been sold to the mines, his Core broken, he’d kept fighting, right? Was it just determination? Resolve? But those things had to have something behind them, didn’t they? He had to have something to look forward to, and it had always been freedom. He’d never lost hope that he’d get out. When he saw Lam and felt that inspiration, what he’d really seen was a physical representation of the hope he’d been holding onto. She’d been a living, breathing example of what was possible.
His mind drifted that way for a long time, remembering the many brushes with death that he’d endured. Then, he thought about how, when he unlocked his Quinametzin heritage and learned of his ancestors, he’d been driven by the hope that he could impress them enough to earn a place among them. That thought brought him around to the idea that he’d always been looking, hoping, for a place to belong and for people who loved him.
He thought of Thayla and Chandri, he thought of Valla, and, of course, he thought of Tes. Didn’t he, even now, hope that he could become the kind of man that could stand proudly by her side? It was just one example of the kinds of hope that kept the despair in his heart at bay. It was what balanced his spirit and pushed against the fear and rage, keeping them from overtaking his personality. Despite every hardship he’d ever had, he’d bounced back, hadn’t he?
Victor could see the Energy in his pathways was moving more quickly, taking on a faint luster, though it still seemed colorless and primarily gray, even with the potential-attuned Energy intermixed with it. He needed to find that feeling, that construct of his hope, and focus on it to give this unattuned Energy its shape. He didn’t have to look far. Chantico’s fingers twitched in his hands, and he remembered her sitting there. He remembered the time she’d first come to him.
He'd been fighting the reaver army from Dark Ember. He’d faced them alone, desperate to stop them from annihilating the reinforcements that had been coming to aid the Ninth. Glorious, brutal, unforgettable—he’d fought to his last ragged breath, and when he’d been sure it was over, when there were still hundreds of reavers around him, he’d still been proud. Even when he thought he was about to die, he’d held onto hope. What had he yelled? Something like, “Come on! You pinché rat fuckers!” He’d wept tears of blood as he screamed, “Abuela! Ancestors! I’m coming to you!”
He might not have held out hope for winning that fight, but he’d certainly hoped he’d earned his place among his ancestors, hadn’t he? That wasn’t the key, though; that wasn’t when he’d felt true hope bloom in his chest. No, that had come when he’d been answered: Is your bloody work over? I don’t think so, child of the Quinametzin. I am Chantico, brave son, and I lend you my strength and my fire. Stand tall among these undead fiends. Teach them what it means to corner a titan!
As he remembered those words and the hope that had blossomed to life in him, Victor felt an answering surge of life in his pathways as the thick ropes of Energy flowing through him took on a shimmering, silver-blue hue and radiated warmth and positivity. Relief washed over him as he gasped, fresh tears springing into his eyes. He’d done it. He opened his eyes, smiling as he saw Chantico’s answering smile.
“Nicely done, little brother. Now you must reform your Core with this new Energy at the center. Your old tutor had the right idea. Put this positive Energy closest to your spirit and put the others outside; make your fear and rage orbit your hope.” Searᴄh the NovelZone.fun website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.
Victor nodded and refocused on his Core space. He pulled the dense river of silver-blue Energy out of his pathways and slowly coiled it around itself, forming a loose ball at the center of his Core, then he compressed it with his will. It wasn’t the same as squeezing the attunement out of it. He just had to break down the individual strands and form them into a proper sphere. When it was done, he could feel the resistance fall away, and the orb of brilliant, silver-blue Energy snapped into place with a gravity of its own.
Pulling back, Victor looked at the three spheres in his Core space and smiled. The hope-attuned Energy was larger and denser-seeming than even the dark, glowering orb of fear. He hoped that was a good sign that his affinity would be even higher. It was certainly easier to manipulate the hope-attuned Energy than his other ones.
With renewed optimism, Victor got to work, dragging his rage- and fear-attuned Energies back into position, stretching them into bands that encircled his pulsating Core of hope. Rage was first, and when it was done, Victor stared for a long while, fascinated by how tendrils of the crimson, angry Energy stretched down like lightning strikes on the smooth, silvery-blue orb of his hope. Those red tendrils never penetrated far.
Then, he pulled his fear into a more expansive, thicker band that encircled his Core perpendicular to his rage. It cast a dark shadow on the soft, smooth surface of his hope-attuned Energy, but it was just a shadow; it was clear that the calm, silvery blue Energy was unaffected. When it was done, he felt different. He could feel the vast potential in his Core, and though it was hard to quantify, he felt like he had more control over his fear and rage.
“You’ve done beautiful work, Victor. That’s a Core to be proud of, but we’re not done.”
Victor opened his eyes and looked at Chantico. “We’re not?”
She gestured around them, at the remaining potential-attuned Energy. “You must make use of this. It’s time to cultivate—you must expand your Core and your pathways in order to sustain the changes that your body is undergoing.”
Victor nodded, feeling much relieved now that he had his new affinity in place. “I think I’m beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel.”
Chantico’s eyes narrowed as her smile broadened, and she nodded. “An apt analogy, Victor. Let’s get you to the other side.”