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114. Third Chamber
🕑 Added 2025-11-03 22:43:01 +0000 UTC“The food was really good. You should have told me politics was just eating on someone else’s dime and throwing insults. I would have gotten involved much sooner.”
Q’Shar looked at me, his ears flat to the sides.
“I’m not going to grace that with an answer,” he grumbled before turning to Ophelia. “You did well.”
“It was tense.”
“You have a good sense for reading the room, then. Yes, it was tense. But you need some work—you have to keep any nervous tics under control. Other than that, your answers were good. You didn’t antagonize the other side—” he glanced at me “—but also didn’t give them too much information.”
Ophelia smiled lightly.
“And—” He turned to me, the wise expression gone, replaced by anger. “You really didn’t tell her about the Third Chamber?”
“Nope. Was kinda busy.”
The cat sighed. “You remember how the Pope, during the war, opened a channel for the warlocks and wizards to sit on the council if they joined the Church’s side?”
Ophelia nodded.
“Well, initially, while on the council, they had only small voting rights. But as the war progressed and other forces—as well as other species—got involved, the people whose rights were represented by Clementus’s new laws became a sizable faction, finally making up a third of all the people on the council. But the law stated that they would get ten percent of the votes to split between them. Then, as the war finally reached a crescendo and Sam’s grandfather—let’s say—played his cards, the law was changed under his pressure, stating that votes would be based purely on contributions and family power. So the previously called ‘dark faction’ became the Third Chamber, representing a third of all the voices on the council—” he looked at me “—with the Alhazreds as their de facto leaders—although that role has been delegated since forever.”
Ophelia looked at me curiously, like I was about to sprout a second head, at which I shrugged.
“My grandfather pulled a little trick back in his day. A lot of people ended up dead, so someone had to fill the power vacuum.”
“More or less. But now that the politics are back, I would appreciate it if you could cooperate. You know—with the grand plan of the Alhazred clan.”
“I’ll do you that honor. And what’s the plan, remind me? World domination?”
Q’Shar sighed. “Now, with the Vatican envoys going around, we are all playing with open cards. We received proposals for alliances from a few factions. We will be signing with the mermaids for social mages, and to train Liam while we’re at it.”
“Oh, right. Did you break the news to the boy?”
“No, we will sign before the sabbath, so we should inform him soon. Other than that, we are in talks with the Warlock Alliance. The rest either want too much or aren’t worth the effort. The close alliances with vampires, mycanoids, and witches are still on.”
“Sounds good.”
We spent the rest of the ride discussing the recent movements—who went for which vein, who wanted an alliance, and who tried to rob us. Overall, a pretty boring political discussion I sat through as a favor to the cat. That, and what I was about to ask in case he forgot, or pretended to…
“So,” I started as the cat finished talking about the fights over veins that had recently broken out. “About the demon contracts.”
I saw the animal’s ears slowly go down.
“I’m gonna need to get some souls, and pretty soon.”
“We can wait a bit. It’s—” he started, but I cut him off.
“I want to use Halloween for the summoning, when the veil will be at its most flexible, so no, we can’t wait.”
“How do you think you’ll get that many souls by then? Not to mention the sabbath itself will be at least a week. Add to that preparations, your other research, and—” he started going over all the problems.
“I know. That’s why I want you to get me lists of criminal organizations, particularly violent gangs, and, oh, human traffickers. I developed a taste for those piles of garbage after Brazil, I think. Places where I can walk in and rip some souls in larger numbers. Helping the common people while at it,” I said with all the heroics in me.
“Fine,” sighed the cat. “We’ll prepare a list meeting your code. Just… don’t get caught, please.”
“No need to worry. Also, pick a few larger, especially heinous offenders. I’ll have something special for them.”
“Please don’t smile like that. You’re giving me the creeps.”
“Like what?”
“Like that.”
“That’s just my face.”
“Yeah, that’s horrible.”
I rolled my eyes at the cat and met Ophelia’s gaze. She looked nervous but also curious.
“You won’t be going with me to kill people, don’t worry. You’ll have other tasks to work on,” I said.
***
We drove back that day, and I went straight to my storage. Once there, I immediately sat in my favorite leather chair by the library section and opened the strange book the Butcher had sealed. But instead of trying to get to the part describing the machine, I opened it to the beginning, this time around searching for instructions about the hook.
The artifact would be the center of my upcoming plans for some time now—most likely staying with me for the rest of my life, considering its power. I wanted to know as much as I could.
And like that, I spent two days straight with my nose in the book. The Butcher was quite the chaotic writer, so reading his research was a pain, but I got some basic understanding of the artifact.
The speculations of the people who set up the ambush outside the tomb guessed correctly: you needed to deal a killing blow to the back of the head to hook someone’s soul. That in and of itself was amazing, considering getting someone’s soul normally would require a ritual—for a fully grown human soul, at least.
But it wasn’t that easy. Even if you hooked a soul, it didn’t mean you would hold on to it. The principle was similar to the rituals and depended on the soul’s strength and will to fight. But getting the souls of common criminals should be doable, more or less.
Aside from that, the hook could do much more. First, it allowed the hook to store souls in a way similar to a soul cage, though it held far fewer. Around eight was the limit, so it was more like a staging ground between the hook and a proper container.
Another ability was changing shape. While its original form was a hook, it could be changed. But to do that, one needed to reform the artificial soul inside, which wasn’t easy.
But for now, I wasn’t going to experiment with changing shapes.
After getting the basic info down and swinging the weapon around some, I finally decided to teach my apprentice, since she had around one month to build her first circle.
So the next day, once I was done with the hook, I used my morning lesson to start on the most important lesson for a celestial warlock, and that was looking into oneself.
We were sitting in the middle of the cluttered room, with Ophelia looking slightly tense, waiting for the lesson.
“So,” I started. “The insides of your mind are not a place I should go with you, especially since you aren’t in full control of them. So I want you to close your eyes and listen to my voice.”
She did as instructed, and I began speaking in a calm, even voice.
“Good. Now extend yourself out of your body as you always do.” I paused, giving her time to do just that. “Now, I want you to turn your consciousness inward, hang close to your own body, and concentrate on the idea of going into it. As you do that, you will start to feel a slight pull, like gravity. Do you feel it?”
After a few seconds, she nodded.
“Good, now fall alongside it. Don’t overthink it—just fall.”
I then got up from my chair and stood behind her. Then, as if on cue, she jumped, opening her eyes as she took a gulp of air, almost falling backward in the chair.
“You fell into the water around your mind palace. It represents emotions, and disturbing it like that can shock you. Don’t worry. Try again; just make sure you stop your descent once you see your mind palace.”
She took a few deep breaths and closed her eyes once again.
“I think I got it.”
“Good. Now you should be able to see your mind palace. It will be tangible—but also not, in a way. Keep in mind that it’s a manifestation of your mind. It’s imaginary, and much like dreams, it doesn’t have to make sense. Its dimensions and design cannot be entirely described—that’s normal. At the same time, it’s a part of you. You can navigate it by just thinking about where you want to go, and that pull will appear. Now, once inside, make sure you don’t rush anywhere. It might be your mind, but the subconscious is dangerous, and getting lost in one’s own head is a nasty way to go. You got that?”
I saw her frown lightly before taking a breath. “Got it.”
“Good. Each part of yourself has a reflection in it—for example, think about the part responsible for sight and follow the pull.”
“Oh. It’s like a screen, but it’s all dark.”
“I’ll lift your eyelid, so don’t panic,” I said, and lightly lifted her eyelid.
“Oh!”
“It can show up as many things—screens, seeing-stones, lakes—but if you go to the part responsible for sight, you can see what your brain sees. Now you will need to find the place where the knowledge granted to you by your god lies. It will most likely be quite deep, in a chapel- or altar-like structure. But before you go there, you need to remember this,” I said in a heavy voice, letting the silence hang in the air until Ophelia opened her eyes to look at me.
Once sure I had her attention and she wasn’t sightseeing in her own head, I continued. “Never go to the part where memories lie. Your entire mind is strange, but it’s like an illusion of sorts, with dimensions changing and bending. Memories are different. They are correlated to time and, because of that, the space responsible for them is four-dimensional. It is a labyrinth with time as one of its dimensions. Once you enter, getting back out is not an easy task. Even ghosts and spiritual beings have trouble traversing that.”
“Is it impossible to see my memories?”
“No, there are ways around it, like seeing someone’s current stream of consciousness or using traumas or strong memories to get to a concrete place—but it is very dangerous. I need you to watch out for that. Never enter the labyrinth of memories.”
Ophelia nodded. She looked serious, so I relaxed back into the chair.
“Good. Now go and look for the knowledge. Once you find it, you should try and learn a meditation that your god most likely bestowed upon you—that, and the arcane knowledge. Once done, we will finish up building your orbit.”
“Will it take long?”
“It shouldn’t. The first orbit sits directly on the spark and so is very easy to build. Even without meditation, you could just throw mana at it, and it would form over time. But we don’t have that long, so you have—mmm—three weeks. Yep, I’ll still need you to learn to fight after building the orbit, so three weeks. You already absorbed a good amount of mana, so it shouldn’t be a problem for someone talented.”
Ophelia nodded and, without waiting for any more instructions, closed her eyes and went into her own mind.
I looked over her for some time. She awoke from the trance with a start a couple of times, but returned to it easily.
I went back to studying my books and the Blink spell, since it could come in handy in the upcoming sabbath. After a few hours, it was time for us to go back. Ophelia was making good progress. Apparently, she had connected with some knowledge about mana being controlled like a nebula, which sounded like a meditation.
Just before going back to my apartment, I remembered the dream demon that once served my family. I couldn’t get to him last time, and I doubted I could this time, but out of curiosity, I did check the idol and, to my surprise, I could feel something. The creature had come into our world.
I needed a break after my last few days.
I smiled—well, nothing more entertaining than pissing off a demon.
Comments
Hastumo
or souls
Béla Stewart
Please let there be the cracking of skulls!
