Author's Note: The following 2 chapters (8&9) contain no sex. These are plot development chapters. Sorry if I disappoint anyone. The next chapters after these should have quite a good bit of fun stuff, so please bear with me.
Councilmember Barrachus led the remarkable young man through the labyrinth of World Portals in silence. Ykir indeed. The story of Ykir was well known to even the lowest initiate-- their whole society was based on his teachings. He had made the Great Ether accessible to humanity, and his spirit still guarded the Fount of Ascendancy to prevent its misuse-- or so the legend went. Only the Seers really drew upon the Fount with any regularity-- mankind was never meant to handle that kind of power.
But this boy? An initiation was a necessary ritual. It made the Ether aware of a practitioner's presence. Only an initiate could direct the Ether through the structured pattern of a spell. It simply wasn't possible to perform as this young man confidently walking beside him had claimed to. To draw the Ether directly, without spells, simply by focusing his awareness? Barrachus suppressed a small shudder. That was the way demons and spirits used magic-- but with the exception of the rare Dreck or Archangel, neither demons nor spirits possessed the ability to physically influence the Mortal Plane.
Of course, Ykir had. He had been the bridge between the Mortal Plane and the Ethereal. It was he who had created the initiation ritual, being able to influence both Planes into making a secure interface betwixt the two. The greater one's understanding of the Ether, the greater one's discipline, the greater the practitioner of the Arts Arcane one was. It had been so for thousands of years. Magic was a tame science-- no surprises-- until now. Nobody, either before or after Ykir, had shown the slightest ability to control the Ether beyond the now-standard ways.
When put that way, Barrachus thought, it almost made sense. It had to happen again sooner or later. What puzzled him was the fact that the Seers had not been able to predict his coming. Or had they? He nearly missed a step as a chill ran down the old man's spine.
What if they did know, and for reasons of jealousy or fear, or who knew what else, (Seers were an odd sort, not remotely fitting his definition of sane) they had decided to end this boy's illustrious career before it began-- with a Dreck? If so, they had made a serious mistake. He was already more powerful than they had anticipated, and was looking for his attackers. Thus would be the biter bitten.
As far as Barrachus was concerned, once he had introduced young Jacob to the Trial of Fire and Ice, his part in this burgeoning intrigue was done. Either he would die in the course of the test, or, as Barrachus believed, he would come out of it with nary a scratch, and would be able to continue his hunt with impunity. Without him. He had no intention to endanger nearly two centuries of careful living by getting himself caught up in this mess.
Jake himself was rather impressed by the vast number of these doors to other places. There was absolutely no telling what was on the other side of a door by looking at it. Some doors were just surrounded by a frame, sitting in the middle of an empty room, but opened to a completely different place. Einstein and Euclid would not have been happy.
After what seemed to be hours of walking through different doors, they ended up before a massive, circular slab of an obsidian-like substance set upright against a wall in a dimly lit, damp cave. Two guttering torches were fixed to the walls, but Jake could see the flows of energy around them; they would never go out. There were also two old men sitting at large oaken desks that seemed completely at odds with the medieval d�cor surrounding the rest of the place. They glanced up at Barrachus with surprise and at Jake with a distinctly uncomfortable cast.
"Barrachus, what kind of irresponsibility is this? None but those ready for the Trial are to come here. You know that! Why do you bring this young man?" Barrachus smiled that thin little smile of his and approached them, quietly but urgently explaining his actions. Jake was not the least bit curious about what he said. His fascination was fixed upon the circular slab. There was a device on it, a circle with seven different stripes spiraling counterclockwise inward into nothingness. The stripes were all black, as deeply dark as the rest of the slab, but each had a subtle difference in texture. Jake was sure it meant something important...
"Jacob! Not yet. You haven't been given the Catechism." The alarmed tone in Barrachus' voice startled Jake out of reverie. He had been reaching for the center of the symbol. Disturbed, Jake withdrew his hand and focused his attention on the old men. The two who had been sitting at the desks quickly came to stand on either side of the slab. Jake waited for someone to speak. As soon as the two were situated, Barrachus looked directly at Jake. His countenance was stern and his intonation was formal as he said, "Jacob, you come here to gain mastery of the Power of the Ether. Do you choose to enter the Chamber of Broken Souls of your own free will, with the knowledge that what lies behind this door may well destroy you?"
Seeing that some form of ceremony was in order, Jake spoke equally formally, "I do." Meanwhile, he was wondering just where exactly he had lost control of the situation. Why was he doing this? The answer came back almost immediately: I will find my father's killer. With a renewed resolve, he looked determinedly at Barrachus.
Barrachus solemnly said, "So be it. Know then, Aspirant, that you may do as you will on the other side of this door, but until you have endured the trials inside, you cannot return. Is this understood?"
"Yes, it is." Jake replied gravely.
"So be it." He said once again, then looked to the two men guarding the circular slab. "The Aspirant has accepted the challenge. He knows full well of the dangers that await him on the other side of this Portal." Jake plainly heard the capital letter in "Portal" and made a note of it. "As his mentor, I submit that he is ready to become an Adept. I submit that he possesses the necessary ability and strength. I submit that he will be an asset to the Council." Jake blinked at that. Did attaining the rank of Adept automatically give him a seat on this Council? Barrachus concluded in a sonorous voice, "I submit to you, Guardians of the Chamber, that this man should be permitted passage!"
The two men at the gate looked at each other. They looked less than comfortable, but still ceremoniously stepped away from the obsidian disk. Jake reached up for the center of the symbol again. As he touched it, his hand continued to go right through, disappearing into the black stone. Just as his torso passed through, he thought he heard one of the guards muttering under his breath, no doubt something unflattering about Barrachus for putting them in this situation Grinning, Jake stepped all the way through.
Jake found himself in a large circular room surrounded on all sides by huge, cascading sheets of flame. The illumination seemed to be coming equally from that and an eerie blue glow from the floor. Looking down, he saw that he was standing on ice. Deep within the ice, he could make out the shapes of bodies forever entombed within. Jake shuddered. Looking around for some kind of distraction, his heart nearly leapt into his throat as he suddenly saw a strangely familiar figure standing less than ten feet away from him.
The man was about Jake's height and build, with dark brown eyes and a sardonic smile. After regaining control of his nerves, Jake squared his shoulders and confronted the individual before him. "Who are you?" The man's smile widened, once again in that oh-so-familiar way. "You wish to know my name? Very well. I am Ykir. I have been waiting for you."
Jake stood speechless for a second. He hadn't been sure who Ykir was, but this was surely not what he was expecting. At the same time, he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt it was true. He could feel the kindred soul in this man. But what was he doing here? He asked as much.
Ykir raised an eyebrow. "Here? Here is nowhere, Jacob. The Portal you went through is a direct path to a section of the Great Ether." With those words, the whole room blurred and reformed into a comfortable office, with Jacob standing in front of one of those oaken desks. Ykir was casually sitting on it. "This is where I take the measure of a man or woman who aspires to greater power. If they do not have the necessary strength and ingenuity, they do not return. If I find them to be a threat to the future of the human race, they do not return. It's like having an interview with a job applicant, only they don't know they're being asked questions. It's a trial, a test of their character, will, and intelligence. I don't want substandard practitioners in leadership positions-- I'm sure you can understand why."
Jake nodded. It made sense. If he was as powerful as everyone said, it would be pretty easy for him, and Jake could certainly understand the need for screening those who could significantly influence the world. It was a little too dramatic for his taste, but hey, it seemed to work. Ykir seemed to have things pretty well under control.
Ykir was looking at him. "You must have questions. Ask, and I will do my best to answer."
Jake thought a moment. "What are we?"
Ykir threw his head back and laughed. "The perfect question! And one of the few that I cannot truly answer. I have been at the 'magic' business since before man had invented the concept of organized government, when the most advanced civilization in the world had just learned how to plant crops, but you are the first person that I think will actually be able to relate to me. We are living bridges between the Worlds of Ether and Flesh. We alone constitute a true, tangible link that touches and controls both Planes of Existence. I learned that I was different from others around the same age as you did-- of course, I didn't have the advantages you had-- willing concubines and all that. I had to make do as I went along. How did you like them, by the way?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know-- your eldest sister and the teacher. I made sure they were born with the express purpose of obeying and serving you. They knew it, too. Christina Hawson fought the idea her whole life, and resented you for what you represented-- the end of her free will. Your sister Courtney embraced the concept of servitude. Both of them belong to you, and would willingly do anything you commanded. That is the nature of a true concubine. True, your Tina is not really happy about being happy to obey you, but that kind of internal conflict gives spice to her sexual appeal. Don't you agree?"
Jake nodded. He knew that Tina would do anything he said to do-- he also knew that she really didn't like the fact that she would obey him so completely. It did make her more interesting. It also made him enjoy her surrendering to him more exciting. Ykir knew what he was talking about. Jake sat in the chair before the desk. It was extraordinarily comfortable. Of course, Jake thought; if I were to imagine a chair to sit in, this would be it. Ykir apparently thought the same way. He thought of another question.
"When I spoke to my parents, the way they referred to you indicated that you were dead. When I talked to Barrachus, I got the impression that you were some kind of legend or myth. Now, I see you standing right in front of me. What's the deal with that?"
"Death is a concept that doesn't really apply to us, Jake. Technically speaking, we exist more in the Ether than we do in the Mortal Plane, yet we are not subject to the limitations the standard soul has upon it-- for example, we can travel between Worlds at will. A normal person's body is an anchor for the soul. Once the person dies, the soul dissipates back into the Ethereal Plane, its hold on the world of flesh destroyed forever. Our souls have no anchor; the connection between them and our bodies is a matter of will. If I will my body to repair itself, it doesn't matter if I've been shredded, stabbed, ripped apart, blown up, or eaten. My body will reconstitute itself as I desire, when I desire, how I desire. It is our wills that make us powerful-- it is our greatest asset, but if you're not careful, it can also be your greatest liability. So in answer to your question, those who think of me as other than I am just don't understand me, and that is just about everyone, with the possible exception of you."
Jake nodded once more. Everything Ykir had told him made sense. It was gratifying to finally understand some of what was going on with him. Now, however, one question burned through his mind. "Ykir, do you know anything about the attack on my family?"
Ykir nodded solemnly. "I felt you drawing hard on the ether. It was the first time I'd actually felt you assert your power, and I looked in on you. I saw the Dreck fleeing into their private part of the Ether, its contract obliterated by the pure viciousness of your attack. You do have my sympathies. It would seem that someone, probably one of the Seers, is jealous of your power, or maybe feels threatened by you."
Jake felt a wild hope. "Can you show me which Dreck it was?" he asked eagerly.
Ykir looked at him sadly. "Jacob, it doesn't matter. It was forced to do what it did. Your thirst for vengeance would best be served by finding the one responsible for coercing the Dreck."
Once again, Jake found himself nodding. It would mean nothing to destroy the slave carrying out its master's bidding. "One of the seers? Who are they?"
"They are the Adepts who have the abstractness of mind necessary to allow them to extend their consciousness into the Ether. Some solutions are easier to perceive there. Seers draw upon the Fount of Ascendancy, a rift I created between the worlds. They are the most powerful of all practitioners, and they're all a bit cracked, some to the point of being dangerous, but they have made themselves an indispensable asset to the hierarchy of magi. A man named Brent leads them, and he is one of the few Seers I consider truly trustworthy. He may be able to give you more information than I. As you may have noticed, I have been trying to distance myself from mortal men."
"Yes." Jake imagined that babysitting humanity would probably get boring in a few millennia. Ykir didn't try to come off as omniscient. Jake sighed. At least he had some clues where to look for his would-be assassin. "Is there anything else you can think of, that I really should know? Some piece of information I'm going to need when I step back into the Mortal Plane?"
Ykir shook his head. To Jake's eyes, a thin, pulsing thread of energy parted from Ykir and attached itself to him. "If you have more questions, give me a holler on this link. It's nice to know you're not alone." Jake wasn't sure if he was talking about himself or not, but thanked Ykir sincerely anyway.
Gravely, Jake offered his hand. Ykir smiled and took it. "Take care, Jake. Just because you're one of the most powerful beings in the world doesn't mean you're indestructible. Don't trust anyone you can't control."
"I understand." Ykir nodded once again, and vanished. The room abruptly began to phase back to its previous appearance, without the flames. The chair did not dissolve until he stood up. In silence, Jake regarded the forms frozen below the surface of the ice. The cold glow illuminating their silhouettes was a grim reminder of failure's price. Jake sighed. Once again, it was time to make plans.