Victor of Tucson
Book 11: Chapter 2: Weighing the Scales

2 – Weighing the Scales

“Opening your spirit or soul space is one of the—”

Victor cleared his throat, interrupting the Spirit Master, “Excuse me, Dar. When you say ‘spirit or soul,’ do you consider those terms interchangeable? The System called it a ‘spirit space’ while speaking to me, but it also said I’d be building a mantle, not a class. Why do you always refer to it as a class?”

Dar frowned, rubbing one stony finger along his jaw as he contemplated his words. “I believe it to be cultural, and yes, I’m certain the System uses different terms with different people. It’s an oddity, certainly, considering the System’s knack for translation. Because we know the System has both words, it must choose them based on the connotation of the term to the person with whom it speaks. To me, it uses ‘class,’ but perhaps that word has the proper weight in my society to make it the equivalent of ‘mantle’ when it speaks to you. Spirit and soul could be explained similarly.”

“So, to me, the word ‘spirit’ has the, um, intended gravity? It allows me to understand the nuance and, as you say, connotation the System wants to convey?”

“Precisely. This isn’t my theory; there have been arguments about it for centuries—longer, I’m sure.” When Victor didn’t speak again, Dar continued, “As I was saying, opening your spirit space is one of the great benefits of ascending from the iron ranks. As you’ll soon see, it is a blank slate, a world waiting to be formed by your intention.” He held up his hands. “Do you see my fingers adorned with a dozen storage devices?”

Victor chuckled, clenching his own ring-bedecked fingers self-consciously. “No.”

“Anything I value, I store in my spirit space. Even a raw, unrefined spirit space can hold more than most dimensional containers. More importantly, it can hold dimensional containers!”

Victor’s eyes widened. “You’re saying I could put all my rings in there, even if they’re filled with other items?”

“Of course! There are veil walkers who’ve spent a thousand years building and expanding their spirit spaces. I know a man with an entire world in his!”

Dar’s words immediately brought to mind Azforath and the world he’d shown to Victor. “Ah…” he said, slowly coming to terms with what exactly the primordial titan had revealed.

“As I said, to reach your spirit space, you simply must find the aperture in your Core space. Will yourself through it, and you’ll find yourself inside, near the Energy-well. It will be featureless and seem either vast or cramped, depending on the nature of your spirit. You’ll find that with the effort of your will and the expenditure of Energy, you can expand it and alter it to suit your tastes. Mine resembles a home not unlike this lake house.” Dar shrugged. “I’ve never been one to find great value in spending untold hours in there trying to build my own world. It does what I need.”

“But, where is it? That space, I mean? Is it truly within my spirit?”

“Ah! I have a text on this subject. One moment.” Dar’s eyes unfocused, and he held out his hand. After a few seconds, a red, leather-bound book appeared there. It was thick, and the gilt-edged pages looked dense. “You may borrow it.”

Victor took the proffered book, ducking his head. “Thank you.”

“The short version is that there’s some agreement among scholars that spirit spaces are, in fact, part of the spirit plane and, as they are refined and improved by their owner, they peel off, forming universes of their own.” Dar shrugged. “It’s never been more than a passing interest of mine.”

Victor nodded. The truth was, Dar had already told him more than he’d expected. The Spirit master had always been cagey about the path of a steel seeker and the mysterious ascension to veil walker. Victor supposed the spirit space was more of a tangential topic, but even so, he was glad for a bit of clarity. Nevertheless, he decided to push his luck a little. “Can you tell me anything more? What do I do with the Energy-well?”

“You use it. Prior to your ascension, the System took the Energy you won and applied it to you as part of a System-generated class. Now, you must build your class or mantle using that Energy. The better you get at it, the more perfect your mantle, the more efficiently it will use the Energy you apply to it, pushing you ever closer to ascension. When you pierce the veil, you’ll know it.”

“But…” Victor stopped himself, gathering his thoughts before he spoke, not wanting to sound like he was whining or pleading. “Is that what you meant when we spoke about this before? I mean, when I was an iron ranker. You said that everyone’s journey was different and that if I were to copy what you did, it might set me back rather than move me forward.”

“Precisely. My journey through the iron ranks was different than yours. My bloodline, my achievements, my aura, the various System classes I held—they all added up to something wholly different from what you’re dealing with. You have to explore the possibilities. You have to feel out your own potential and build a structure that truly supports you—something sturdy enough to carry you into and through the veil.

“Consider the terms ‘steel seeker’ and ‘veil walker.’ The people in this part of the universe came to a consensus on their use for a reason. You’re forging something now. You’re taking the iron you gathered, and you’re hardening and honing it. The veil, well, it’s another word for mystery, isn’t it? The unknown. When you’ve found your steel, you’ll see the way through, and then you’ll walk among us.”

Dar shrugged. “No one can hand that to you. You must find it. You’ve chosen a difficult path, foregoing the System’s aid, but many scholars argue that the System has safeguards built into its process, limiting one’s true potential.” He chuckled, his voice deep and grinding as he shook his head. “There are other scholars, myself included, who think the difference must be minimal and not worth the trouble or risk.” He leaned forward, lifting his carafe of brandy to pour himself another glass. “You’re stubborn, though, and I’m not surprised.”

“What would the System have done for me?”

“Provided a framework. Awarded you some spells, abilities, and feats as you built your mantle. Now you’ll have to explore the skein of your spirit by touch and craft your own.”

“My own spells?”

“Aye, and abilities and feats. No class—mantle—would ever be ascension-worthy without them.”

“How does one create abilities, let alone feats?”

Dar rumbled another low chuckle. “You see why most don’t forego the System’s aid? I only know the theory, Victor. When you’re in your spirit space, you’ll find your skein—the web of your every experience. You can pull elements into prominence and tie them into your mantle. You can twist and weave them. I had the System’s aid, as do most, so I honestly cannot provide much more guidance than that.”

Victor held up the book Dar had lent him. “Are there texts on the subject?”

“Naturally, but I’d caution you away from them. You’ll learn more from following your instincts than listening to the ramblings of the sort of meddler who feels their experience worthy of foisting upon every aspirant lacking the self-confidence to build their own fate.”

“Right.” Victor grinned. Dar might be a hardass of a mentor, but his philosophy aligned fine with Victor’s: learning things for yourself was always more rewarding than following someone else’s walkthrough. As things stood, he’d already learned a lot from Dar in this little conversation, enough to put his mind at ease. At least he had a vague idea of what he was supposed to do now.

Almost as if he’d read Victor’s mind, Dar tossed back his brandy, slapped his knee, and prepared to get up from the couch. “I think I’ve spoiled you enough, haven’t I? You’ve the basics—enough to explore the possibilities. I expect you’ll be well on your way by the next time we meet and, in that meeting, you’ll have more informed questions for me.”

“Yes, but I’m happy to keep visiting. I haven’t told you hardly anything about my time on Ruhn. Is there anything you need from me before—”

Dar waved his hand. “I’m deep in a research phase, Victor. This little interlude was more of a break than I normally take. Spend time with your friends, as, if I understood correctly, you’ll be leaving in less than a day, yes?”

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Victor nodded. “That’s right. My ancestor—”

“Is demanding. Aren’t they all?” Dar chuckled and stood. Victor hastily followed suit and shook the man’s hand as he held it out. “I’m very pleased to have considered you a student. I know, technically, you’re still bound to me for another eight years or so, but we can consider that a loose arrangement. You’ll want guidance as you progress, and I’ll have favors to ask of you. We’ll play it by ear, yes?”

Victor felt a weight sliding off his shoulders, and he reflexively inhaled deeply, smiling as he nodded. “Thank you, Master Dar.”

“Good luck, Victor. Keep me apprised of your adventures in the Farscribe book we share.” He took a step toward the parlor doors, the ones leading outside, but he paused. “I wasn’t joking about selling you this property. Let’s discuss it when you’re next in Sojourn.”

“Yes. Of course! Thank you—”

Dar waved a hand. “My research will take me far afield soon. My time at this world hub grows narrow.” With that, he opened the doors, stepped outside, and when Victor blinked, he was gone.

Standing there in the great man’s absence, Victor felt a wave of guilt overwhelming his earlier relief. Hadn’t he spent his time on Ruhn railing against Dar’s unjust demands on his life and time? Hadn’t he, just an hour earlier, been pondering if Dar was hiding his true strength, perhaps to somehow deceive or even harm him? Why was it that he’d been so comfortable lumping Dar in with other people who’d persecuted or caused him harm in the past? He wasn’t a slave master; he was a mentor.

Dar was a man who greatly valued his own time. When he’d helped Edeya, his fee had been steep, but Victor had gladly accepted, hadn’t he? Since then, had Dar ever truly taken advantage of Victor? Of course, one could argue that sending him to Ruhn to do battle with an entire empire was a little much, but Dar had explained his reasoning. More than that, he’d given Victor an out—he’d insisted he could leave if he ever felt the situation was hopeless. Perhaps that had been manipulative; Dar knew Victor wouldn’t abandon Kynna or her people once he got to know them. Even so…

Victor shook his head. He had to face the fact that he’d been hard on Dar—at least in his own mind. He hadn’t done anything against the man in reality, but he’d certainly judged him harshly. This visit, though, had driven home to Victor that Ranish Dar was a good man, if for no other reason than that he believed in karmic justice and balance. At that thought, Victor grinned. Perhaps the man had seen Victor’s efforts on Ruhn and realized the scales had shifted in Victor’s favor.

Shrugging, pleased that things had gone so well and happy to have one less “villain” built up in his mind, Victor smoothed out his silken shirt and left the parlor, intent on finding his friends. He was eager to explore his spirit space to see if he could manipulate or even find his spirit skein, but that would wait. He had people to see and places to go and little time to do it in. He figured he’d find some time for himself once Chantico showed him the way to Dark Ember. He’d find a secluded spot there in which to eat his dragon heart and contemplate the nuances of his existence as a steel seeker.

When he emerged from the back hallway into the sitting room that overlooked the back deck, he saw his friends gathered outside—Lesh and Olivia, included. Grinning, he went outside and bellowed, “Lesh!”

The dragonkin, wearing nothing but leather pants, leaped to his feet, green-tinted steam escaping his nostrils as he looked around, wide-eyed. When he saw Victor, he laughed and rushed forward, arms spread wide. “Victor! You startled me!”

Victor grabbed him in a bear hug. Despite his much-reduced size, he easily manhandled the reptilian man, hoisting him off his feet and crushing him tight. “It’s good to see you, brother.”

Lesh pounded his back, and Victor let him go, smiling at the rest of the people gathered there, most of whom had gotten to their feet, waiting for their turn to greet him. Victor nodded at Olivia, always a little amazed by the strange fiery aura that limned her shoulders and head. She was, apparently, a hell of a talent where the elemental magics were concerned, though Victor had never really seen her in action. “Good to see you, cousin.”

She stepped past Lesh, her arms held out. “What, no hug for us mere humans?”

Victor chuckled, stooping to give her a much tamer squeeze. When he released her, he looked at the others. “All right, who’s next? Darren?”

Darren waved him off, clicking noisily in his throat before saying, “I’m good, Victor.”

“I always want more!” Edeya said, fluttering her cobalt wings, so tiny motes of Energy showered the decking behind her.

Lam threw her arm over her shoulders, restraining her. “Give the man a little peace. Victor, is it true—”

Victor interrupted her, a sudden thought occurring to him. “Wait! Darren, aren’t you married now?”

Darren nodded, folding his arms over his chest. “Ah, yes. Ahem, well, I’m sorry, Victor, but Bree is visiting her family off-world at the moment. I’m sure she’ll be devastated to know she missed your visit.”

“That’s what I was trying to ask!” Lam interjected. “Victor, is that true? You’re leaving tomorrow?”

Victor nodded. “I’m sorry, but this is just a quick visit for me.”

“Can you tell us why?” Olivia asked.

Victor shrugged, gesturing to the seats they’d just vacated. “I don’t see why not. Have a seat and I’ll give you all a, um, Victorupdate.” They sat down, Dar’s household staff brought them fresh drinks and put out more of the snacks that were left over from Lam’s party, and Victor took an hour to go over most of his travails and triumphs from his time on Ruhn.

Of course, he glossed over much of it, but devoted a good amount of time on the important topics. He told them at great length about his communion with Chantico while he was senseless from “a potent natural treasure,” mainly because he wanted it to be clear why he had to accept his current quest to travel to Dark Ember.

“It’s an incredible tale,” Lam said, looking at Victor strangely, something like wariness in her eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, and though he tried to keep his tone light, his words had a scolding edge. “I’m still Victor. It’s not like I’m the first steel seeker you all have met.”

“Mmhmm, and how many other steel seekers did you slay?” Edeya asked, grasping Lam’s hand.

“Of course he slew them! The rabble should know better than to trifle with Victor! He’s a titan whose bloodline rivals that of a dragon!” Lesh roared, slamming a scale-covered fist into his palm.

“That’s right! There’s a reason Lesh and I swore fealty to his house!” Darren crowed. “I wish I could have seen your battles, Victor!”

Olivia snorted, cocking her head at Darren. “I swear—there’s no way you’re Darren Whitehorse. Did something happen to him when he followed you all here? Did he lose consciousness? Did some sort of sapient parasite eat his mind? Did—”

“Olivia, don’t tease my fosterling,” Lesh said with a deep, rolling chuckle.

Victor sighed happily, pleased to see his friends getting along so well. They bantered back and forth a bit more, but when there was a break in the conversation, he looked at Lam and said, “I’ve had a lot of luck, I know. Chantico thinks I’m favored by fate—that my threads are entwined with momentous people, and that has had a significant impact on my development. Surely, the gift of the ivid queen—the natural treasure I mentioned—was beyond anything most people can hope to come across. I didn’t do anything special to earn that.”

“I beg to differ, Victor. How many adventurers did that little man send into the ivid hive only to have them fail? I would have failed. I wanted to fight those giant bugs, but you reasoned with them.”

“That wasn’t all on me. Valla—”

“Didn’t want you to go to see that queen.” Lesh interrupted. “She would have had us leave then and there. You showed courage in the face of impossible power.”

“More importantly, Victor, you held onto that treasure and used it only when you had to. Who could say they’d have the same restraint?” Lam added.

Victor sighed, waving a hand. “Anyway, enough about me. Let’s all just agree that I’m lucky in many ways, but I’m still Victor, no matter my success. Now, I have gifts for you all.”

Edeya clapped her hands and scooted to the edge of her seat. “What sorts of gifts?”

Victor grinned. “Treasures!”

“You don’t have to—” Olivia started to say, but Victor waved her off.

“No, listen. I told you my final battle on Ruhn involved a lot of steel seekers, right? You think I didn’t walk away from that with a bunch of storage rings filled with all manner of things? I’ve picked something perfect for each of you, so just sit back and let me share some of my success.”

Victor stood up and turned to face Lesh. “First, I have something for you, Lesh. It belonged to the dragon I fought.”

“Truly?” Lesh’s voice was hushed, well, as hushed as the dragonkin could be—it still rumbled.

“Yes. I contemplated keeping it, to be honest, but Lifedrinker wouldn’t have it. Then, I thought about sacrificing it to my ancestors, but…” Victor put a hand to his stomach. “Something in my gut said not to do that. I don’t think the weapon is evil, but it needs a strong hand and a powerful will to control it. Do you want to take on that task? It might be a cumbersome duty—”

“Yes!” Lesh growled, baring his fangs in determination.

“Okay.” Victor reached into his storage ring and pulled out the enormous, heavy, scalding hot greatsword—Soulreaper. The sword had no crossguard, and the hilt and pommel were crafted from the same piece of impossibly dark metal as the blade. Red, jagged runes danced beneath the surface, and the blade shone with a baleful crimson glow.

The sword was a couple of feet taller than Victor’s “human” size, so he rested it, point down, on the deck, where a thin line of smoke drifted up. He knew that if Dar’s house had been constructed of mundane materials, the weapon would have burned through the boards to the earth below. “It’s heavy and burns my hand as I try to wield it. You might need to spend time earning its trust before it cooperates with you.”

Lesh leaped to his feet, standing before the massive weapon. It would be unwieldy in his hands unless the spirit within the blade worked to reduce its weight and size for him. “I shall endeavor to make myself a worthy wielder of this great dragon blade!” he hissed, gingerly reaching for the hilt.

Victor nodded, pushing it toward him. “I know you will.”

When Lesh grasped the scorching hilt, he grimaced, but his dragonkin flesh was up to the task; he didn’t burn easily. Grunting, muscles straining, he managed to lift it off the deck. Lesh wasn’t small—he’d grown to nearly ten feet, but the sword, in its current form, was almost as tall as he. “Will it speak to me?”

Victor shrugged. “I think so. Make sure you don’t put it into a common dimensional container.”

Lesh’s eyes widened. “I don’t think I—”

Victor waved a hand. “Don’t worry, I have a few suitable containers from my conquest. I’ll give you one.”

“Lord Victor,” Lesh said, shaking his head. “This is so much. I don’t—”

“Stop it, Lesh. That sword needed a home, and I would rather an ally I can trust wield it than some stranger. You’re doing me a favor. Now”—grinning, he turned to Edeya and the others—“are you all ready to see what else I brought?”