Chapter Four Hundred And Twenty Two – 422I
He floated in gelid darkness, buffeted by currents he could not see. There was no thought, no memory or experience beyond the now. There was no him.
I am
Then there was. Thoughts and phrases trickled into a space in the dark, a swirling configuration of whispered light and sound. Patterns formed from them, twisting around and through one another, weaving and knotting in the strangest of ways, until the whole of it ignited into riotous song.
I am the
Memory flashed into place. Memory of a yacht, of lightning and a beach. Of forests and fog and monsters. Of a vault hidden in the earth, suspended behind wards and traps enough to kill the greatest of adventurers...and the creature within.
A terrible cry echoed into the dark depths. Cold fluid coursed around his patterns, pressing them down, deeper. The far off bellow came again, and again, each time closer. He had no eyes, but he knew he shined brighter than anything else in the depthsa torch in the night, glimmering prey among the waters. Beneath, something moved.
I am the Un
The thing was rising, a mountain made flesh, with teeth and eyes and in such quantities that all that he was froze as Memories of the vault stormed through his patterns. Of a creature born of blood and hunger and delirious madness. Of
I am the Unending Maw, and I am relentless and inescapable. I am the hungry gullet at the end of all things!
NO!
A Memoryan instinct buried in his bonessurged to the fore, of refutation. Of stark denial of what would not be! A piece of him locked into place, and as it did he felt the patterns of light and sound solidify and rise to a tyrannical crescendo.
I. AM. NOT!
All that he was pulled inward, yanked from vast distances in the deep, until the patterns of his Mind were joined by new points of incredible starlight. Spirit formed, a nebulous curtain around him, a cloak of ephemeral energies that sunk into and expanded outward from his patterns. A split second later, the rest of him rushed close, until a solidity encased limbs he could finally feel, and senses that were more than just transient impressions. His Body flexed and joined in the dancing interplay of Aspects, weaving among his Mind and Spirit as if it had never left.
I am Unbound! I am the Fiend! I am Autarch!
The entirety of him gathered, pressed together by sheer, unbroken volition.
I AM FELIX!
The behemoth rose, a screaming snarl on its mile-wide maw, and he met it.
And there was light in the dark.
Felix jerked awake to the sudden, thunderous sound of splintering wood. His Mind whirled, tossed from nightmare to a sudden drop as the bed he laid upon split, and he fell unceremoniously onto hard, cold tile. Immediately, he pressed up from the ground, throwing himself back to his feet fast enough that the air made a keening noise in his ears, arms up and ready to fight.
Only to find himself utterly alone in a master suite half the size of a football field. What's more, his left hand was partially stuck in a splintering piece of bedframe, with sheets and mattress stuffing still floating down all around him.
"Oh," he muttered, more than a little embarrassed. "Glad no one saw that."
Felix pulled the wood apart as easily as ripping a thick piece of clay, and disentangled his legs from silken sheets. He was wearing a short sleeved tshirt and gym shorts for some reason, and they seemed particularly odd on his surprisingly muscular frame. His limbs felt weird, like they were too long for his body, and everything around him seemed off in a way Felix couldn't put a finger on. One thing he could see, however, was more concerning.
His arms were scaled.
The room he found himself in was far finer than any he'd stayed in before, and Felix quickly found an entire wall dominated by a mirror with a golden, scrolled frame. He placed himself in front of it and willed his Garment to remove his shirt. The magical clothing obeyed, and Felix held up his arms in front of him. Black as midnight, the scales covered him from fingertips to mid-bicep, turning from fine, glossy things on his hands, to more rugged and heavier as they extended up past his wrists. Small claws adorned his fingers, nothing as brutal as his usual talons, but very much not Felix's normal hands.
"What the hell?" he asked the air. His Sovereign of Flesh wasn't active, he could feel that, and as he inspected himself in the mirror, he was reminded that he'd changed even more than he realized. His feet were tipped with small talons and covered in scales as well, these extending all the way to his mid-thigh.
Sovereign of Flesh!
The Skill activated easily and the scales vanished completely. Yet the moment he ceased to run the Skill, the scales and claws returned. This...was just who he was now.
"Great," he muttered, twisting this way and that. More than the scales, the rest of his Body had undergone some significant remodeling during his Primordial baptism. His shoulders were wider, his limbs longer, and his general proportions were simply bigger. If he had to guess, Felix would have put his new height at six and a half feet tall, easily six or seven inches taller than before. "Not gonna complain about being taller, I guess."
He felt a little wobblyall knees and elbows like a newborn horsebut that was fading fast. Energy pulsed in his center, threading through his veins like rivers of molten lava. Felix's muscles felt denser than ever, and his joints responded so easily to his movements it was uncanny. He'd figured he had a powerful Body before, but this new one was in another league.
Felix checked his Status.
Name: Felix Nevarre
Level: 57
Race: Primordial of the Unseen Tide (Greater)*
Omen: Magician
Born Trait: Keen Mind
Path: Cardinal Fiend
______
Health: 11680/11680
Stamina: 11983/11983
Mana: 8195/8195
______
STR: 3586
PER: 1920
VIT: 2316
END: 2070
INT: 2516
WIL: 3066
AGL: 2048
DEX: 1892