[NoR] - [06] - Aught Process

“It's only a few thousand onto your debt per cycle, which you already clear. Spacious and local. Will it serve your purposes, Inquisitor?”

Razel nodded his affirmation to the agent.

“The proximity to the Basilica is admirable. I can smell the censers even now.”

The agent made a few notes on his pad, then turned and left, shutting the metal door behind him.

The main chamber was darkened save in the glow of the moon roof above, rays of light streaking faintly through his quarters. A night chill crept into the air. With a flick of a button, the Inquisitor's robe fell to a loose skirt, baring his torso. His boots liquefied, streaking off his leg towards the center of the room. Once there, they rebuilt into a moderate wooden crate. His toes hung above the floor as he drifted over to it. One hand reached for the box, gesturing the lid away. Loudly the wood hit the floor, sounding much like a dull bell. Within were a series of somatic components, each arranged neatly in their racks. His fingers danced over them, tapping each once before stepping away to ready his mind. The items rose gently, bobbing about each other as they sought to prepare the ritual.

Perhaps I am being paranoid...

Chalk screeched across the stone, the glyphs drawn in a pitch black against the neutral cream tiling. Razel sat cross-legged, midair above the center of the designs. His tools continued in their work, zipping around him to complete their duties. He paid them no mind. His focus drew to the memories he sought to keep from himself. Where they were. How to remove them. Flames cast wicked shadows as the candles blazed to life, settling in the sconces about each wall. The lid replaced itself atop the box after the tools finished the circle, all the trinkets nestling themselves back in their homes. With a loud click, the crate disappeared from the room.

I am you, and you are me.

Beads of condensation began to collect on his forehead, spreading to his face. The 'sweat' crept over his body, building and building until the slush sloughed off of him, loudly splattering on the floor yet remaining within the innermost boundary.

I am me, and you are you.

A glow matching the moonshine grew from within the viscous rime, brightening softly. A body began to solidify, limbs pulling away from the frozen form. Features sharply cut into place, evening themselves out until the body below was indistinguishable from the body above. A moment of sadism for a period of sanity...

Razel held out his arm, two fingers guiding the ice that spiraled from their tips. The flow ceased at a second arm's length, now a fresh icicle resembling a terrible augur. As the duplicate began to stir, Razel plunged his drill into the base of its skull. As cold met freshly formed flesh, the Planeswalker tore into the newly minted mind. A faint replica of his own thoughts met his intrusion, which he promptly shuffled through. With surgical precision he removed any knowledge of his true nature, any knowledge of being a 'walker, and any knowledge of anything beyond Ravnica.

With a jerk and a twist, his icicle came loose, sliding free from the gaping wound. The hole began to frost over, slowly reconstituting. Shards of ice slid across the floor as the spike shattered upon impact, discarded once it served no further purpose. The frost melted to cover the rest of the floor, scrubbing the room clean of the visual aspect to their wards. Moans of pain crept from the body. A quick change of face and robe before returning to the ground kept their resemblance a secret. As it rolled over and blinked away the darkness, it saw only a concerned old man in a plain robe.

“Are you alright, Inquisitor Korr? You were caught in a Havoc Festival. The Church graciously offered to house you here at a slight debt.” Korr placed a hand to his head, fingers tracing the pain that radiated from behind it. They brushed away a dewy frost, yet the flesh was fine. The Inquisitor shook his head to clear his thoughts.

“You…You saved me?”

Razel smiled at him.

“Sort of. They mentioned you might have some memory issues. I offered to take you to your new tenement so that once you wake you will be able to resume your duties as soon as possible. The decorating, unfortunately, is your responsibility, but with your financial headway you should be fine.”

Korr worriedly looked at the robe he was wearing, not sure if he remembered waking in it.

“Let me help you up.”

An arm under the shoulder drew him up to his full height, with the two men now looking eye to eye.

“I’m sure you don’t want to entertain an old clerk like myself. I’ll leave you to your devices.”

Following a brief look about the room for these ‘devices’, Inquisitor Korr nodded curtly. Razel took the affirmation and turned to leave.

“Thank you, sir. May your debts be forgiven.”

He stopped in his tracks, not expecting a show of gratitude, and certainly not a sign of respect. He turned his head slightly, smiling back and nodding again, before stepping out the door and into the hall. The chime of the nightly bells covered the noise of his exit from the plane. Inquisitor Korr ran to the door, opening it to empty space. He felt he should be surprised, but dim recollection of other such happenings bubbled about in his memory.

“I hate people that do that...I think.”

My second double was, initially, everything I ever wanted it to be. I would learn one, it the other. I would research this, it would research that. I delayed absorbing it out of curiosity as well as complacency; after all, it had worked out beautifully so far.

We would occasionally meet in our chambers and discuss some of our recent revelations. Oddly enough, he was the one who told me of the need for occasional contact with those of your own kind. Being of the level of power that we are, it is easy to get detached from the realms around you, and as a result, end up without your sanity. By keeping a cadre of friends who also happen to be ‘walkers, you allow not only camaraderie, but also the empathy and exercise you can only get with your own. I was informed that he had made a few ‘friends’, and that he was sure they’d like me.

This, I think, was my first sign that something was wrong. We were, quite literally, the same person, and in due time we would physically be one person as well. To hear him speak of himself as something separate from me was unsettling. I believe I simply nodded, and made my way to the next lesson I had scheduled.

I think I was more bothered by the fact that aside from Rokh, I hadn’t really gotten to know anyone. I was focused entirely on improving myself. Yet, somehow, a ‘perfect’ duplicate had not only made friends, but also wanted to have me meet them? I felt that the second experiment was over. There were too many unanswered questions and I was not entirely happy with not having the answers. I resolved to absorb him upon our next meeting.

The course in interplanar communication went swimmingly, and I returned to my quarters to wait for him. As the handle turned, I stiffened, watching for any sign of his form. Light peeked through the crack as it opened, soon met with a man stepping blithely into his room. I allowed the door to close before I leapt for him.

I expect he heard me, as his jump out of the way would attest. I rolled to my feet, covering the door in a wall of ice to keep him here.

“Why? Why now?”

I stepped towards him calmly, observing the fear in my own face.

“Why? Why what?”

“Don’t play at being a fool. I have our memories, remember? I know what happens at the end of the process. Why now?”

I made a note to look into memory manipulation to prevent this in the future.

“It’s very simple. The experiment is over. Why do you resist me?”

“Who doesn’t try to fight death?”

“This isn’t death.”

“For you.”

“Or for you! We return to being one being! How is this death?”

“Said the father to his-”

My patience had had enough. I think my fingers were knuckle-deep in his face before the body began to gel, slipping back into my palm and absorbing into my self once more. I felt a familiar onset of memory, but could never have prepared for it. A second lifetime seamlessly supplanted itself within me, experience and knowledge overwhelmingly connecting themselves to bridge new insight, discovery, reasons, possibility, and progress. Yet all the consuming improvement could not eclipse the experience. The double had, indeed, made a friend or two. It had spent much of its time worrying about when it would be absorbed, and seemed to have learned not nearly as much as it could have. The memory of Aught tainted its whole experience, lending an overtone of fear to the entire age. It began to think of itself as a creation of mine intended for more than just gathering knowledge, almost convincing itself of a paternal relationship. Each of our encounters that he walked away from reinforced the possibility that he was different, and that he could possibly be his own person. I felt his resolve in wanting to ask me to let him live, which followed with visions of that final encounter, now only moments ago, ending in the outburst I had brutally silenced.

‘-son.’

The demiplane was spherical, with a bare platform suspended in the middle of it. A small machine sat connected to a console covered in odd markings, some panels shifting from time to time to display a different configuration. Razel leaned against it, tossing the three objects onto the floor before him. One at a time, he levitated each to inspect and utilize it. First was the stick; simple and unassuming, yet radiating an overwhelming magic that was tangible to all regardless of sensitivity. Next rose a grinning totem, the impish smile implying a devious scheme. Last was the coin, small and silver, shining brighter than it had any right to. Razel held his hands out to them, a dim web of mana enveloping the items.

“My friends...”

The mana pulsed as he spoke, conveying his message across the aether.

“... of late I have found myself in need of like company. If you are not otherwise disposed, please feel free to follow this message and find me at your will.”

The web fell from his fingertips, finding new hold on the floor beneath, now resembling a net as it held the hovering trinkets. The energy flickered next to the machine, which the planeswalker now leaned on to wait.

A good duel will help. Calm the mind. Take my thoughts off of my paranoia. A loud drum echoed through the demiplane, announcing the first arrival. A patch of grass erupted a few feet from him, spitting out a large tree that collapsed onto itself to form the broad, muscular elf. Sun-bleached dreadlocks hung over his rune-scribed shoulders, the vegetation below receding into his boots. His eyes were white, with a faint blue ring betraying the iris. The patterns tattooed across his body rippled intermittently with a blue glow. Razel stepped forward with a smile.

“Kaos! Welcome. Glad you could make it.”

“I also find myself in the presence of mortals recently. A chance to commiserate with fellow demigods is always a pleasure.”

A chuckle from the other end of the plane announced the second guest.

“I love when you talk about demigods, considering your line of worship.”

The white eyes narrowed as any trace of amusement evaporated away.

“Naturally. You invited Iman.”

The black hair sprouted violently from behind the grinning mask, bouncing as he stepped to join the party.

“Of course he did! Someone here has to help keep your gods in check.”

Kaos continued to look sternly at the newcomer. Razel took the opportunity to speak.

“Well, since you two are here, why don’t we liven things up with a quick match, hm? The three of us.”

Kaos turned to voice his opinion.

“What about your other ‘guest’?”

The elf motioned to the coin. The web dissipated as the trinkets floated back to Razel, fitting neatly within a small pocket in his sleeve.

“He’ll arrive when he arrives, if he arrives. Now, shall we start?”

The mane of black popped out of nothingness between them, the attached imp eyeing the artifact supporting his friend.

“Only if we use your arena...thing.”

Razel tapped the machine, apparently turning it on. The space within the sphere flickered, and within moments the demiplane had been replaced by a large coliseum. A magically generated crowd cheered wildly at the trio standing within. Kaos smiled broadly as his runes lit up. The machine faded away, no longer visible yet still controlling their environment. Iman cocked his head slightly, looking about.

“Did you add anything new to the repertoire?”

“Not recently. Nothing you should be aware of, anyway.”

Razel turned to walk away, taking his place so that the fight could begin.