Chapter 35 The Explosion
Chapter 35 The Explosion
When Davan started across the Scattered fields, Jorren’s silhouette was already way ahead. He headed down like he was in control of the field itself and the energy around it. Davan Rell started down the field, feeling the crack in the well of his soul and the immediate drain of energy from him.
He concocted a plan. He would continue down the path for a moment, then, if he perceived that he would not be able to continue for long, he would run. He would discard the fact that Jorren wasn’t supposed to see him and run. Jorren wouldn’t fight him, he thought, and if he had any suspicions, he would claim that he was only trying to watch after his back. It was a believable story.
By the time he made it halfway through the field, Jorren had arrived at the entrance of the Soulwell. He was feeling tired now, like a man pulling at a team of tug-of-war that wouldn’t budge.
The first time, he thought he could use the essence of his soul to sustain himself and resist the exhaustion, but now, he knew better. He wasn’t going to do that. He wouldn’t try to push beyond it. He would run.
As soon as Jorren disappeared within the Soulwell, he started running. The exhaustion pressed against him, threatening to blow him up literally, but he continued, pushing with all his might. He was breathing hard as if he had been running the entire day, and his lungs burned. His leg shook, but he pushed.
He leaned forward, staggering as his hand flared. He reduced his speed, pushing his effort towards saving himself from the fall, but failed. He fell face-first into the tall leaves, his hand failing to grab something to stop his fall, except leaves.
He lay still, breathing hard, energy rushing out of him like an enlarged crack on a cauldron. He knew he had to manage to get to the entrance of the Soulwell, where he would be safe. When he tried to stand, his limbs trembled, only able to hold himself seated.
He had no other option but to crawl the remainder of the Journey, but he didn’t think he could make it; he pushed forward nevertheless, ignoring the screams of his soul that almost convinced him that he would never make it. He managed to make it through, pushing himself up the cobble stairs of the Soulwell before falling in exhaustion. He turned to lie on his back, breathing heavily as he absently counted the night stars as his strength returned. He did it. Sel Voras would be so proud if he found out what he managed to achieve.
After a moment of recovery, he managed to push himself off the ground. He wasn’t here with Jorren just to know what would happen. He was here because he had to find out what was going on with Jorren, not because he wanted to, but because he was mandated to.
He walked inside the Soulwell, feeling the energy and the tension coming from the chamber. He ran quietly towards the corner leading to the chamber and snuck a peek, seeing Jorren staggering away from the soulwell, nearly falling.
He watched as Jorren glanced at his hand, waving it for a little while, before a force he couldn’t explain drew Jorren towards the stone of the soulwell, slamming him against it so hard Devan thought he would die.
Jorren was pulled against the stone of the soulwell, slamming into it with a force that shook the grey vision of his architecture. Pain shot through his body uncontrollably, but he stared at the Soul architecture in his vision, seeing the pull against the cracks in the Hollow.
A rush of purple essence poured out from the stone and wrapped around his frame like large vines, pressing him tightly against the stone. Large tongues of purple flame erupted from the bands, flaring wildly against him.
Jorren thought he would be charred because of the searing heat around him, but he didn’t open his eyes. He watched instead as the healed fractures exploded and golden essence slipped out of them. In that moment, a flood of purple rushed in, slipping into the hollow spaces of his architecture, mixing with the golden light and blooming a splash.
Jorren’s body shook heavily, his chest pulled taut. Blood ran down his cheek from his eyes, pouring from his nostrils and his ears. Instead of resisting, he wrapped his arm around the stone and pulled himself harder against it. His body felt as if it wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer, but he kept pushing himself.
If anything, he wouldn’t be anything without these assignments, so he was ready to go to the risky end if it meant he would be a ghost of the system. Dying while trying makes him a ghost anyway—it just meant that he wouldn’t be able to interact with the reality of this life
After a moment, the searing heat died and let go of him, and the pull weakened. Jorren dropped to the floor like dead weight, and the purple essence he had consumed wrapped his body like a purple cloud for a while before disappearing within him.
Within him, the Codex echoed that he had completed the Third Ascension. He was now a ghost as long as the system was concerned.
Davan, watching the whole thing happen, walked forward, holding a small booklet. His eyes widened, and his chest tightened at what he just saw happen before his eyes. A man, a fractured one, was able to access and consume the essence in a soulwell the system had recorded as ruined.
When he got close, Jorren opened his eyes and looked at Davan. He wasn’t surprised that he was there, but a faint admiration for his ability to make it through the scattered field bloomed in his chest. He smirked at Davan.
Davan let fire from his palm consume the jotter he was holding. They contained records that he had been making about Jorren to give to Sel Voras. He didn’t see a need to continue. The resistance would eventually resist Jorren when they found out about him, but Devan didn’t want to be the one who would make it happen or be in the middle of the crossfire.