The Arkady Chronicles

The vortex whaled all about him in a thousand angry voices. Lucian steeled himself to it, and pushed his consciousness outward trying to become one with it.

Bits of proto-mater pelted the unprotected portions of his face, arms and legs, and the normal defensive shifting of his body became quite conscious to him. His skin began to thicken, and harden, as chittenous spurs sprouted here and there. With part of his mind he halted this, and with a bit more effort he reversed it, returning to the soft, fleshy being he once was.

He knew that he must maintain control of his body at all times during this exercise. To control the Vortex he must be fully in control of himself, for the tortent was an extension of his very beings. Of his family and his lineage.

His attention shifted quickly back to the ragging chaos storm around him. Outward his mind stretched, trying to take hold of the awesome force and power inherent here. The sheer force of creation and destruction threatened to yeald to him, and with a bit of conscious effort, he pushed it away.

All about him, streaks color, sound and sensation played, mixing with the reality of matter, and the fantasy of dream. The wildness continued to rage about him, and still he pushed it away, readying himself for the next step.

A deep breath came to him; physical, or mental, Perhaps both but it did little to prepare him for what he knew he must do. One last time he peered at the gossamer threads of the spells he had prepared hoping that they would be enough, and all the while doubting it.

Here's to everything. he resigned to himself, and then quickly opened himself drawing the storm to within himself.

It burned like flaming rocks, but its infernal essences touched his very being, rather than his throat. His soul burned with its full power, and his mind began to swim as the world around him had been doing seconds before. The burning, twisting storm condensed about him, and in seconds seemed completely absorbed by the impossibly small seeming man.

Lucian closed his eyes, feeling the vortex tearing and ripping at every portion of him. His consciousness slipped, teetered, and the fragmented, shattering into a million parts.

This was the only way, he had known, yet somehow, he hadn't believed he would survive. Tradition was tradition, and he knew that he must imbibe the Vortex, and bestow upon himself the power that it initialed.

He collapsed, body convulsing on the cold stone of the dungeon floor, wisps of spectral color, arcing out from his form every now and again. Of the small group of people who stood watching, a petite woman moved toward him, only to be stopped by a larger man near the edge of the group.

"Seira, stop. You can't help him." The voice was thick, and harsh, rolling with grumbled growls. His face was the short, snubbed mask of a great, black cat, it's ears set high upon its head, and its golden-hued eyes squinted slightly.

"No, Payne. It's killing him!" The panic in the soft voice was mirrored in her round, beautiful face. Her usually soft curly hair, was now in a rough mess from her constant pulling and fiddling, something she always did when she was nervous.

"Perhaps so..." Payne Growled, and forcibly steadying her with his large, powerful arms. "But if you touch him, the Vortex will kill you too... surely." He shook her once more.

"He is Ch'Ka-Raza. He -Must- take the vortex, or die in its effort. That is Arkady way."

In a sordid, tempest fragment of his mind, Lucian knew that he must complete a task. Nothing seemed to come to him, but the storm raged around him, and he was alone, and confused.

He saw another, one just like himself, trembling, and alone, and he moved toward it, seeing himself as he approached, but as he came, the torrent, and rage of the storm grew stronger, angrier.

Fear racked both parts of him, and at once he reached and shied away from himself. There was pain, and though he could not remember what it was, he remembered fearing it. Still, something... else remained.

Determination, and perseverance that had once faltered, now pressed his halves toward each other. Closer, and closer, and finally... together.

Himself... now he remembered. Ch'Ka. The highest... He knew it to be himself... but the highest what? In the distance... across an eternal spance of nothingness he spied yet another one like him.

He moved, but faltered. Slipped, and lost sight of himself... then in the searching he found it again. Moving slowly around, circling him. He reached out for it. With his essence, his mind, his soul, and found only more of the ragging anger. He was gone again, lost himself among the torrent. And as quickly as before, he was found again. Hiding.

He was confused. He was hiding from himself. Why?

He steeled himself again, fought down a swell of something inside him that he didn't understand. He dashed out, pouring all his own anger and rage into his effort. Moving toward the part of him that hid.

It tried to slip away again, seeing the fierce part of him again, but failed, and cried out in fear of being steam-rolled.

The storm around him raged again, trying to stop him, but it seemed to pass right over him... perhaps through him. He became one with himself once again, and immediately realized why he was hiding... something was after him.

Lucian lurched on the ground, convulsing and shaking. Seira absently struggled against Payne's steel grip, but to no avail, and simply watched with tear stained eyes.

The dark-skinned young man arched and lurched as he had for the past few moments's, but this time a shrill screech escaped his opened mouth. The long, thick braids on his head began to move like snakes on a gorgon's head. His eyes flew open, but still showed only whites between washes of ethereal color.

"Please..." Seira pleaded, as Lucian's breathing came to him in chops and spurts. Payne simply stared at him, holding the young girl back.

Fear racked him, and he knew only one thing... must not be taken, he must not allow it to take him.

It moved, he felt it. It prowled just out of sight, devouring the others like him, as he had seen it do before. He must not let it take him.

He listened, trying to drown out the thundering sound, and the ragging storm around him, trying to hear the monster as it approached. A tearing, hissing sound pervaded everything, even drowning out the Storm, and he knew then, that it was almost upon him.

He rose, and dashed away, running through the storm. He only had one destination in mind, away. The storm grabbed him, and tossed him in the air, before bashing him back onto the ground. Pain racked his body, but he took no time to revel in it. The monster was nearly upon him, and he knew it.

He was up again, in an instant, streaking madly among the strange images, and objects that danced about wildly amid the storms, He didn't notice most of the things that he ran into, And only the storm itself stopped him, tossing him to the ground here and there. Still his fear of the monster drove him on, keeping him running, and never looking back.

And soon, it was very close, and he could see it, and it struck terror into his very heart. To describe it was difficult, for it's form always changed, forever shifting, and as it moved it reached out taking objects and others into him, becoming larger, and stronger.

But there was something familiar about it. Each time it shifted it returned to a monsterous form. The visage of a man, human, dark skinned, and tall, with a strong build, like that of a runner, or a dancer. It's head held long, thick tendrils, like the tentacles of some beast of the deep. its eyes were cruelly set upon whatever grim task it had in store for him, and Lucian shuddered, as he thought of this.

But the creature too, seemed to be having trouble, with the storm, and as it approached it would be batted here and there as well. Whenever it would fall, Lucian would pull the 'Obfuscus' about him, hiding himself from its notice.

But as soon as it was erected, the spell would be broken, and Lucian was tossed into the air, sailing high above the monster. As he passed, fear filled him. The creature kneeled on reversed knees, and leaped into the air, arms stretched out, claws threatening to grab him... and doing so.

He screamed again, the terror taking him, as his everything was rented apart, and absorbed into...

Himself.

This is the first in a series of stories. Cix Trybe is the author. More is soon to come, hopefully.