Patricia Wilson
Stories
10
Chapters
3,347
Words
163.4 K
Comments
0
Reading
13 h, 37 m
-
Truth tried to cough politely, but it didn’t seem to work in the void. Now that he wasn’t constantly moving with magic, it seemed that not much He spun in place for a little while longer. The Angel was still possessing him. It was impossible not to notice. There was continued silence. He could hear the thunder of his heart beating. He could actually hear the blood moving around inside of him. It was that quiet. There was a slithering in his shirt, as Perks worked his way out through the enormous…-
3 •
-
-
Truth respected a well-organized jumping. No sense in fighting one-on-one when you and five of your nearest and dearest gang mates could kill some lost soul from ambush. There was, however, a higher art. One that took you from a nobody to a certified menace. An art completely beyond the sorry and the weak. The legendary art of Reverse Jumping. Starbrite had most of his soul reserved burned away. He had been ambushed by dozens of the Shattervoid. He knew that Sariel was just Truth did his best to…
-
3 •
-
-
“You are the hero who is saving the world. Do heroes harvest souls? Genuinely asking, I don’t know.” Truth’s mouth had run away from him. His brain could understand why- under the circumstances, none of his body parts wanted anything to do with the rest of him. They were too obsessed with their own pain to worry about the pain of others. Starbrite nodded, a ‘cheerful’ smile on his face as he reached down and snapped Truth’s pinky finger. The bone shattered, and not cleanly. Truth screamed.…
-
3 •
-
-
It was like being hit with a storm. Like a wind lashed wildfire smashed into him. Starbrite didn’t rise from the sarcophagus- he boiled up out of it. He rose like an arsonist’s finest work. You could hear the screaming kids trapped on the sixth floor. Only faintly- it was hard to hear the screams over the roars. Starbrite had been run to ground. Forced out of hiding. His steady feed of souls had been shattered, and his servants killed. Local reality was twisting and thrashing like a spider being…
-
3 •
-
-
There was a brief moment of ecstasy. The sheer joy that came with crushing the little tormenting imp was convulsive, rising from the depths of his soul and the most resentful corners of his psyche. It was all the taunting. All the “A real mage would-” crap that it spewed. The fact that it trained him, like a Enlightenment poured into Truth’s mind like a waterfall. Why the System? Why just roll it out to employees? Because each nascent soul was made up of the interplay of spells and understanding…
-
3 •
-
-
Truth had no idea what language the Order was written in. That turned out to be no barrier to understanding. Sariel wanted his meaning understood, and wasn’t afraid to stamp it directly onto the reader’s brain. Truth knew a couple of words of Enochian, the artificial language used to converse with angels. Just picked them up here and there on the job. This wasn’t Enochian. This was something more primal. Something shaped like words but transcending language and arriving at pure meaning. He could feel…
-
3 •
-
-
Truth walked through the temple, trying to find some piece of Starbrite he could grab ahold of. Everything was just guesses. Based on evidence, but still guessing. Would there be any real trace of Starbrite here? Some real, tangible thing connecting the monster and the man? Other than the man himself, of course. Assuming ‘he’ was a man. The temple was utilitarian. Beautifully decorated, but built for a single person and a single purpose. Truth still wasn’t sure he was clear what that purpose was. If…
-
3 •
-
-
The bronze door was covered in neat inscriptions. That was the overwhelming sense of the door- three meters tall and somehow it was more orderly than majestic. Truth could imagine the architect and the thaumaturgist having an argument- “It looks ugly, doesn’t fit with the entire rest of the building, and is going to add a mint to the costs. You can’t-” “Take it up with the client. Inscriptions have got to go somewhere, and while it would do the apprentice good to spend a couple months carving…
-
3 •
-
-
Truth nodded slowly. He stroked his chin, and frowned thoughtfully at the wall. With deliberate emphasis he tapped his index finger against his lip. A sage glint burst from his eyes, his shoulders screaming of insight! It certainly sounded like money, but he wasn’t sure he had ever heard of one. Maybe a foreign currency? It tickled some misty part of his brain, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. The room was completely trashed, and he wasn’t seeing anything useful. If there was some dark…
-
3 •
-
-
Jank is a formidable power. It is also, regrettably, unreliable, inefficient and prone to breaking. These are known problems, and, Truth felt, entirely acceptable shortcomings provided you followed the cardinal rule of improvisation: “Whenever possible, experiment with The hallway was, most of the time. Sometimes, it was not. Truth struggled to hang on to some semblance of stability. It wasn’t easy. Just to the left of the door, something was scraping a furrow in the hallway. Always the same width,…
-
3 •
-
- Previous 1 … 27 28 29 … 335 Next