Freezing Shadows, 54

Chapter 54: Initiation

I knew from my time in the beta that no two binding rituals for a magical group were the same, just as no two groups were the same. More importantly, initiating, and passing through to that next level of power was never like just tapping a couple keys in an interface. Every time was different, influenced by your tradition, the group you were with, any ordeal you were taking, and so on.

In this case, the group was extremely diverse. Different traditions, different mentors, different races, and more. The unifying point of the Conclave was that we were all combat mages who specialized in the blade.

We all moved towards the ritual space. Because the group did not care what tradition you followed, the space was set up ‘non-denominationally’. There was a basic circle, and movable stands to hold torches, incense burners, and the like. The altar in the center was a solid slab of stone, roughly a meter high, a meter wide, and two meters long. The thing had to weigh as much a small bulldozer, but as the central altar for a ritual site, you could do a lot worse.

Following everyone’s lead, I stopped just outside the circle. I raised an eyebrow as Huntress began slipping out of her clothes, before noticing that everyone else was doing it, too. Not entirely surprising, especially for a joining ceremony. It wasn’t a sexual thing, of course. Nakedness was literally making yourself vulnerable to the others, as they made themselves vulnerable to you. It was a sign of trust, which was essential in creating a bond.

Each of us stood naked, holding only a blade in hand. Naturally, everyone picked whatever they had as a weapon focus. Only Prodigy lacked a weapon focus, but he still carried one of his monofilament swords. Again, symbology was important in things like this.

Miko began speaking, in a ceremonial tone befitting someone who was a corporate priestess. “We of the Conclave have gathered here once more, to welcome a new Blade to our midst. The Conclave is more than just a group of those seeking power. It is a brotherhood of those who know that there is a time for scholarly pursuits, and there is a time to fight. For pride, for coin, for family, for one’s deepest beliefs. Words alone can only go so far, and sometimes threats can only be answered with force.

“When Magic arose in the Cataclysm, there was chaos and confusion, even amongst those gifted with its touch. However, even in chaos, metahumans crave belonging. So was it that the first gathering of the Conclave of the Spectral Sword was drawn together. Seven combat mages of various traditions, united by martial prowess and magical might, joining as one, their magic joining together and their blades drawn in common purpose. They put aside their differences of metatype, religion, and tradition, and formed the basis of the brotherhood we now enjoy.

“Since then, the Conclave has continued, its traditions and lineage unbroken. Blades have been lost, whether to the ravages of age, or a violent end, but the Conclave endured. New blades were drawn as others were sheathed forever, and new traditions and styles joined, adding their strength and perspective to the Conclave.

“This is the pledge of our Conclave. We stand against forces both material and immaterial, drawing steel and unleashing spells against those who know no answer but force. So long as one Blade endures, the Conclave endures. So long as the Conclave endures, there will always be mages who will take the fight to the enemy.

“Our Conclave is one of brotherhood and power. Together, we hone our skills and delve deeper into the mysteries of magic, learning to take our powers to higher and higher levels. And now, it is time for us to add a new blade to our midst.”

Looking me in the eye, she said, “Mirikon Mollen, known as Iceblade, you stand in our circle, and seek to join our number. Do you swear to uphold the strictures of the Conclave? To aid your brothers and sisters in power, as they shall aid you? To diligently grow your skills with blades, with spells, and with the secrets of fighting in the astral realm? To test your skills against ours, so that we all grow together?”

Magic began flowing around us. Not much, but enough to be felt, like a cool breeze. With a steady voice, I said, “This I swear.” I didn’t know where the words came from, but they felt right. Like the magic was speaking through me.

Miko paused, and then deliberately drew her katana across her hand, cutting the palm. She held her hand out, in front of her, letting the blood drop to the floor in front of her. “As First Blade of the Conclave, I welcome our Tenth Blade. May your steel never break.”

I felt the stirring of magic in the air grow stronger as Templar moved next. Like Miko, she slashed her palm with her scimitar, and held it out to let the blood fall. “As Second Blade of the Conclave, I welcome our Tenth Blade. May your will never waver.”

Prodigy was next, slashing one of his four hands with the monofilament blade in his hand. “As Third Blade of the Conclave, I welcome our Tenth Blade. May your magic flow freely.”

In the center of the circle, above the altar, I began to see an image coalescing into view. It was a European-style longsword, blade down, but the blade looked to be made more of spectral light than steel. This must be the avatar of the group, and a fitting one for this Conclave.

Crusher easily held his massive claymore in one hand, and cut his hand. Only a troll would have been able to do that so easily with a blade like that. He held his hand out, like the others, and said, “As Fourth Blade of the Conclave, I welcome our Tenth Blade. May your enemies fall before you.”

Demon was next, his rapier cutting softly against his skin, before he held out his hand, like the others. “As Fifth Blade of the Conclave, I welcome our Tenth Blade. May your arm never tire.”

Sparrow was next. Her monofilament sword cut her hand, and she held it out in front of her. “As Sixth Blade of the Conclave, I welcome our Tenth Blade. May your bonds never break.”

Huntress smiled toothily as she slit her grey palm with her katana’s blade. “As Seventh Blade of the Conclave, I welcome our Tenth Blade. May your hunts always be successful.”

Countess looked at me as she held her rapier up and cut her palm. She was the only one besides me who had sprung for modifications to make her blade look truly special. It looked as though her blade was made out of a single, long thorn, with the basket hilt designed like a rose. I ‘knew’ that blade, from the implanted memories. She had named it Elenathil, just like I’d named my katana Winter’s Breath.

“As Eighth Blade of the Conclave, I welcome our Tenth Blade. May your pride never get the better of you.”

Then, it was Nemesis’s turn. She cut her hand with her monofilament sword, like the others had. “As Ninth Blade of the Conclave, I welcome our Tenth Blade. May your skills grow ever stronger.”

You take 1P Damage (unresisted).

Iceblade: 1/10 Physical Monitor

Berserk Resistance (Threshold 3): 11d6 = 3 Hits, 3 Misses (Not Berserk)

Iceblade’s Arcana Test (Threshold 2), with Edge: 5d6 = 3 Hits, 1 Miss (Success)

Finally, it was my turn. The avatar of the sword was fully realized above us, and the swirling magic was like a windstorm, now. I reached up, and slit my palm, before holding it out, to allow my blood to drop to the floor. Cutting myself hurt, but I’d had worse pain in game, and in real life. The blood called to me for a moment, urging me to rip and tear in a feeding frenzy, but I pushed that down. I could handle this much just fine.

I knew that I’d only get one chance to do this right, so I decided to spend a point of Edge and increase my odds, adding an extra die to my pool, and ensuring that any 6s would count, and then be rolled again. Just in case.

Again, the magic seemed to speak through me, guiding me in what to say. “As Tenth Blade, I join your Conclave. May we one day draw blades together.”

The spectral sword in the air shone brightly, and in that moment, I felt the connection form. Bonds of magic moved through me, and the others. We were all part of a greater whole, stronger than the sum of its parts.

And then, something else happened. It felt as though a wave crashed over me, dragging me down, into the depths of my soul, to a realm of eternal twilight water. I did not fight it. I ‘knew’ this sensation, as well. It was Shark bringing me to the depths. My implanted memories said I’d only seen it a couple times, the first being shortly after my magic manifested, and the second when I was near death, during the escape from Ola Serin during the revolution.

I felt the presence before I saw it. Shark moved through the shadowy water. It was the platonic ideal of a shark. Every shark, and none of them, all at once. If you focused hard enough, you could see it shifting from one type to another, and yet always remaining the same. The hunter of the deeps circled me, but I was not afraid. Shark did not strike without reason, and it did not play with its food like a cat. If Shark was displeased with me, I would already have felt it.

Then I felt it as much as heard it. Shark speaking. Not with words, so much as feeling and intent, yet it translated perfectly into words I could understand.

“You grow strong, young one. Even when faced with creatures far beyond your power, you do not falter. When blood is in the water, you master yourself, and do not give in to the feeding frenzy.”

I nodded slowly. “Only a poor hunter loses themselves to the hunt. If one is to truly be the master of their fate, then they must control their instincts. Learn from them, use them, but control them.”

“You think that you know all the ways of hunters, child?”

“No. No hunter is ever done learning, for the prey is always looking to survive, and there are those who would hunt the hunter.”

Shark’s laugh passed through me as its massive form circled round. “Good. There is still much for you to learn, and greater challenges for you to hunt. Now, take the power you seek. But know that you will need to grow stronger still before next you make this attempt.”

A soft blue glow appeared in Shark’s mouth, forming an orb. The orb flew forward, striking me in the chest. And then, it felt like everything changed, but was the same. I was still me, but more.

Initiate Level increased to 1.

Maximum Magic Rating raised to 7.

You gain 1 free metamagic.

Available Metamagics:

Ally Conjuration

Centering

Channeling

Cleansing

Divining

Flexible Signature

Geomancy

Great Ritual

Invoking

Masking

Psychometry

Quickening

Sensing

Shielding

Sympathetic Linking

You have chosen Shielding.

Shielding: add initiate grade to Counterspelling to protect against hostile spells

And then, I was back into my body, in the real world. I looked around, and the rest of the Conclave was standing there, smiling at me. Miko saluted me with her sword, and said, “Now, you are truly one of us, brother.”