Starbreaker: Volume 4 - Chapter 21

“Those who study the eidolon in its natural habitat are few and far between, primarily because its natural habitat is a chaotic dimension filled with eidolons that want nothing more than to kill anyone and everything that is not an eidolon. Yet there have been periods where they were successfully observed on their own side of the dimensional barrier without summoning having occurred, and in the study of them, certain patterns have been detected in their makeup. It is known that the eidolon does not cast spells in the way that a mortal mage would, yet they can produce effects identical to complex spellcasting instinctively. From this, we have posited that in their evolution, resources other than mana were scant, and to survive, only those creatures that could exploit ambient magic were able to survive and reproduce. However, no reproduction has ever been observed among eidolons, and there are elements to their appearance that seem to belie the idea that they are a naturally occurring creature at all. Similarities to creatures from our own plane of existence that simply make no sense in the context of a separate set of evolutionary pressures. On top of this, we encounter the true mystery of the eidolon. They are not simply creatures that consume mana; they are made of magic. Their internal channels through which mana flows are in the pattern of words of aion. From this, we surmise that the eidolon is a created creature.”

—The Great Blasphemy, Albrecht Magnus

The eidolon’s jaw snapped open, and a hideous noise echoed across the cornfields. Somewhere between the deepwater sounds of an iceberg’s collapse and the guttural roar of some predatory beast. Sylvas blinked once or twice, feeling Strife inside him trying to rear up and howl defiantly in the face of the creature, but then he managed to compose himself. “Hello… Cookie?”

From the moment that they’d first met, Hector had looked completely and utterly confident in everything that he said and did. Even when he was making missteps, it was always with the same kind of absolute certainty that had filled Sylvas and the others with confidence that they’d make it out the other side. Now, he looked very briefly sheepish. “I ate it even though it was probably bad for me, and it made me feel better. Sounds like a cookie to me.”

The vast crocodilian swung its tail back and forth, as though threatening to club them both, but with a reassuring pat on its flank from Hector, it slowly stilled, then dropped down onto its haunches. An impressive feat when you had as many feet as it did.

“Even when we’re apart, we’re still connected. I could leave Cookie here, fly halfway across the universe, and she’d still be drinking my mana, and I’d still be receiving hers. The connection is metaphysical. Distance doesn’t matter. And no matter how far we are apart, the moment I want her back”—he snapped his fingers, and the eidolon shrank back down behind him and vanished from sight—“we’re back.”

Sylvas wet his lips, trying to find something, anything appropriate to say after that display. “An impressive trick for parties.”

Hector’s customary grin was back, and Sylvas was sure he could see some hint of the crooked teeth of the eidolon to it now. “Good way to end an argument fast, too.”

As they talked, Hector made his way along the line of cornrows, picking the best-looking ears that his magic had created. It felt morbid to be harvesting food from a planet on the brink of annihilation, but without the power Hector had just expended, there would have been nothing grown there at all. “Throughout those first two stages, your mana and the mana of the eidolon merge together. Your affinities fuse. You’ll get war mana, whatever that is, and the big dog will start getting gravity mana. Its power will change, just the same as yours. That means you’ll need to work on new spells to incorporate both aspects, and your eidolon… well, it’ll need some time outside of you to get used to how its body and powers work.”

Sylvas caught an ear of corn tossed his way, then another, stacking them up in his arms. “And once our affinities and mana are merged?”

“That’s when it gets”—Hector paused in his plucking—“weird.”

“I have a giant blood wolf manifested from the very concept of war that has been drawn from another dimension to live in my soul, and it still hasn’t gotten weird?”

“Let me think for a second. I’ve never had to explain it to someone before…” He continued plucking away at the corn, even though he’d already stacked up enough to feed them for a week. “Okay, so… the way that you use magic and the way an eidolon uses magic are completely different. You can throw raw mana around to have an effect, but most of what you do is casting spells. Shaping the mana into specific shapes from the Aion language to… well, you know all this. Anyway, the way eidolons use magic is different. It’s instinctive. The mana flows through them and manifests effects. There’s no thinking involved; it’s instinctual.”

Sylvas cut him off. “You’re saying I won’t need to cast anymore?”

“You won’t need to cast, either of you, but you should be able to make any of the effects of spells you know happen.” He balanced all the corn in the crook of one arm so he could rub the back of his neck with his other hand. “I don’t know all the technical stuff, something about eidolons naturally having spellforms inside them? Veilbohr and Starweaver have studied it the most. Oh, and then the eidolons become more fluid and able to generate different forms once they become more like us? Or something. The technical side of it was never my forte. I just know it works.”

Sylvas’ perfect memory immediately drew up an example. “We’ve already… When they were testing me in the Trials, the eidolon… it did things, with my blood, with my power.”

“Glad to hear the big doggy is trying to pull its weight.” Hector chuckled, trying to rebalance all of his corn and then eventually giving up and just dumping it all into Cold Storage. “Yeah, until you’re aligned, you won’t really have any control over when and how it does that stuff. But once the two of you become one, it’s… natural. Like breathing.”

All the limitations he’d struggled against from the beginning, everything that he’d shattered his mind and twisted his body to circumvent, all of it was going to be rendered pointless. “So, infinite mana and instant casting.”

“Not just instant casting. Instant casting of any spell you can conceive of. No matter how complex it is, your partner can make the form. Eidolons are rigid until they bond with us, stuck in one shape, in one… focus, and then they go in the complete opposite direction once the covenant is fully formed. That anger you feel? That desire to fight and kill? It’ll fade as the creature becomes less of War and more of Sylvas. My understanding is that with our bodies to serve as an… anchor, they don’t need to be as conceptually solid anymore. They can change, shift, grow. And before you ask, no I can’t tell you how that happens, I’m the wrong guy for theoretical stuff.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I can help steer you through it, and honestly, I think you need that more than somebody giving you lectures on what it all means.”

Sylvas seemed to consider this for a moment, then nodded. “I’m assuming that with the complete lockdown on any information about covenants, there isn’t any reading material I can supplement my learning with?”

Hector burst out laughing. “Oh, man, Kaya’s right. You really are a stanzbuhr.”

“I still don’t know what that word means.” Sylvas dumped the remaining corn into Hector’s cold storage, then recast the flight spell on the pair of them.

“Context clues, kid.”

They caught up to the others barely any distance at all into their flight, and a quick recast had them all back at the Folly before the rapidly deteriorating world could deteriorate right out from under their feet.

It was funny that the first time Sylvas had stepped into the command circle on the ship, it had been so overwhelming, and now he did it almost casually, the return of the ship’s sensorium to his own awareness as natural as opening his eyes to see. They were off the surface before much of anything had changed, doing a brief pass over the planetary surface in search of anyone left alive.

Surely, they couldn’t all have been in their little encampment when there are so many fields to tend. Surely, some of them avoided their companions’ grim fate. Surely…

They found nothing, and for once, there were no jokes or smiles or attempts to make light of the dark patch they were passing through. Sylvas knew he should have felt sorrow, pity, perhaps even some measure of despair at the sight of what the Consortium had done, but he couldn’t. Every time any emotion other than anger bubbled up, it was fed into his rage like fuel being tossed onto a fire. He started to pull away, both moving the ship out and disconnecting himself from his feelings, closing them behind the filters that his paradigms could provide to his perception, but then he stopped. This was not irrational. This was not weakness. To see something terrible done to innocent people should have made him angry. Anger was the only rational response.

He let his anger roil as they moved off into space, never letting it overtake him, but never forcing it down either. The anger was justified. It was righteous. He knew that some part of this feeling was the eidolon, seeking a way to latch onto his psyche and worm its way deeper into him, but Hector had been right. That was what he needed to happen. He needed to feel anger. He needed to fight against the things in the universe that were wrong.

They were just out of reach of the strange disruptions to gravity when he brought the ship to a halt and pulled up the map once again, highlighting the next nearby planet that had shown traces of eidolon technology. “I’m plotting a course now.”

“Is that the most sensible course of action?” Malachai surprised him, speaking so softly.

Sylvas didn’t understand. “Of course it is.”

Malachai was watching him carefully, with worry in his eyes. “Perhaps some rest might be in order before our next stop?”

Sylvas couldn’t contain his contempt. “And while we’re resting, another world is being gutted.”

“Kid, listen to your friend.” Hector put a hand on Sylvas’ other shoulder and started physically pulling him out of the circle. “Let’s wrap it up and start fresh tomorrow.”

“No.” Sylvas could hear the growl in his voice that he hadn’t been trying to put there.

Kaya elbowed her way through the other two and swung her boot up. Thanks to the difference in their height, it came up a little short of Sylvas’ ass. She sighed. “Knock it off, Stanzbuhr. It’s been a bad day for all of us.”

Sylvas opened his mouth to snarl at her the way that Strife wanted, to pick a fight for no reason. To let the war spill out of him and destroy them all for daring to question him. He forced himself to breathe, to say, “It’s been a long day.”

“Hope everyone likes corn.” Hector had already headed out of the cockpit.

“What could anyone find objectionable about corn?” Malachai asked, mostly to himself.

“Gets stuck in my teeth something rotten.” Kaya was quick to fall into casual conversation, not drawing away from Sylvas, so much as showing him that she wasn’t scared by taking her eyes off him. If he couldn’t hear her pulse pounding, he’d never have known.

“Surely, you could simply brush your teeth afterwards?” Malachai and Kaya had already left, and the conversation was carrying on as they moved off towards the makeshift galley. Sylvas was still standing there, left behind.

Darling, I understand that you’ve decided to get in contact with your inner beast, but perhaps it might be wise not to do so in a manner that alienates the only people who seem to genuinely like you.

“Maybe I should put you on pet-sitting duty.” Sylvas managed a smile, though it was brittle and sharper than it should have been. “Feed it my anger to help get us connected better.”

Oh no, I have enough to manage in here without adding eidolon-wrangling to the list. You are entirely on your own with this one.

“I could make you.” Sylvas let some of the growl return to his voice, but even he realized the futility of threatening the voice in his own head.

My sweet, stupid darling, you’ll never be so intimidating that I can’t laugh in your face, so let’s not even try putting on our big boy pants and pushing me around. It’ll only end with me deliberately voiding your bowels the next time you try to flirt.

Thoroughly cowed, he cleared his throat. “Please don’t do that.”

Then please watch your tone.

He looked back at the star chart and recognized the futility of this, too. They could go zipping from world to world and never find anything at all. Either the planets would be entirely safe or they’d be cored apples like the one that they just visited, and their presence in either scenario would provide them with no fresh intelligence on the movements of the Consortium. He needed to calm down and think instead of charging blindly ahead.

Griswold 2 continued dying slowly on the periphery of his senses. The structural integrity of the planet crumbled even as the atmosphere evaporated away. A whole world, dead to greed. A whole colony slaughtered because they happened to be living on top of what thieves wanted to fence.

It happened months ago, judging by the rate of decay he calculated. The chances of them hitting any one of the planets on his list at the exact same time as the Consortium made their raid were essentially nil. He didn’t even bother having Mira run the odds. They needed more information if they were going to stop them from doing this again.

And as it happened, he knew just one place that he could get that information from.