Victor of Tucson

Victor stood in the central room of his chambers, half of which was taken up by the dining table and half by a sitting area with a few built-in curio cabinets and bookshelves. He’d locked all the windows and doors, but considering the recent assassination attempt and the fact that he only had a couple of allies in the entire world, he decided a bit more safeguarding was in order. He didn’t want to lie helpless for days when there were plenty of folks on Ruhn who wanted him dead.

With that thought in mind, he touched most of the furniture—the dining table and chairs, a couch, and a couple of end tables—sending them into the enormous storage ring he’d taken from Loyle after their duel. Standing in the center of the now-empty space, he took the vault pendant from around his neck and turned the key, quickly setting the clicking, ticking, steaming device at his feet.

The little marble-sized ball rapidly expanded until an eight-foot globe sat before him, clicking softly as the heat generated by the weird spatial magic faded. As a credit to the solid construction of his palace, the hardwood slats beneath the rug didn’t creak or sag. Victor stuck the key in the vault’s complex circular lock, and as it thunked into place, he turned it until the round vault door opened with a hiss of cool, misty air.

Victor cast Alter Self, reducing his height to step into the vault. Out of habit, he knelt beside the satchel containing the ivid royal jelly. His lips spread in a smile, and his eyes shone with delight as he beheld and felt its seemingly depthless potential. He didn’t know when he’d use it, but he knew the time wasn’t yet upon him. It was just a feeling, an intuition, but the idea of consuming that potent stuff made him think it would take him apart, atom by atom. He closed the satchel and turned to the vault door, removing the key from the outside before pulling it closed and locking it from the key slot on the inside.

Victor didn’t know how hard it would be for a high-level iron ranker or a steel seeker to break into the vault, but he knew it wouldn’t be easy. In his estimation, anyone trying to smash into the magical metallic orb would destroy the entire palace before they managed to dent the thing. He figured Kynna and her allies would come to his aid long before his little sanctum was breached. He moved to the center of the space and sat down, summoning the gilded, jewel-studded egg from his storage ring.

He held it in his lap, feeling its weight, wondering at the strange idea of coating a natural treasure like an egg with gold. He hoped whatever artisan had done so had worked some magic into the shell, keeping the morsel inside fresh or, at least, edible. He took a deep breath, preparing to try to crack the ornamental shell, when another thought came to him. Breath. Was there enough air in his vault to support him while he lay insensate from the egg? With a chuckle, Victor consciously stopped breathing, giving himself a visceral reminder about how little he needed to.

He'd learned as much back at Dar’s lake house—swimming beneath the surface for tens of minutes on a single breath. His epic-tier bloodline and racial status meant that his body’s cells were saturated with Energy. They fed off it far more than they did more natural things like food, water, and air. That thought sent his mind spiraling down another rabbit hole—why did he assume Energy wasn’t natural? Was it just prejudice—a product of his youth spent in a world devoid of it?

Victor gave his head a quick shake, forcing his focus back on the egg. His wandering mind made him wonder if he was procrastinating, and if that was the case, he was determined to put an end to it. With little hesitation, he pressed his thick thumbnail through the golden shell of the Coldwater Sea Wyrm’s egg. A heady scent tickled his nose almost immediately—like a mixture of honey and blood. He’d wanted just to pierce the golden shell, but his nail had gone through into the meat of the egg that was, apparently, soft-shelled.

Victor licked his thumb, where some of the gelid material had clung, and his mouth exploded with flavors—a bit like any other egg, but intensely magnified in flavor and somehow sweet. He could taste hints of minerals but was also so overwhelmed by the flood of Energy that came out of it that he nearly lost his ability to focus. His eyes became blurry, and tears streamed from the corners as though he’d eaten something intensely sour, even though it wasn’t. With trembling fingers, Victor carefully peeled away the gem-encrusted golden shell, and then, before too many wisps of that potent Energy drifted away from the egg, he put it into his mouth whole.

As he chomped the egg into mush, gulping it down, Victor’s mind exploded with dopamine, and waves of euphoria washed over him, sending shivers and tingles over his entire epidermis. He collapsed backward, his vision utterly blasted by exploding lights, and lost all track of his conscious thoughts.

He drifted, insensate for a long while, and though he couldn’t form coherent thoughts as the egg did something to his body and mind, later, he might look back and wonder at the odd, dreamlike memories of that time—glimpses of explosions in space, matter coming together, stars pulling apart. Great, tumultuous sounds like standing at the base of a thousand-foot waterfall, like mountains coming down, rumbling and roaring as their stony slopes smashed themselves into rubble, then pebbles, then silt as they sluiced away into nothing. These were just impressions, nothing concrete, and yet, that drifting exposure to those gigantic sights and sounds would shape his dreams for months and years.

When he had the presence of mind to recognize himself—his thoughts and feelings—he was in a much calmer place. A dark void where he drifted, bodiless. When he began to put his thoughts into order, remembering what he’d been doing, he had the wherewithal to peer into that darkness, wondering if he was meant to see something. It was an odd sensation, looking with no eyes. Even stranger was how he could feel the lack of air and matter, even though he seemed to have no body.

Almost as though that realization was the key, a pinpoint of light appeared in the void. Seeing it, Victor focused his attention that way, and then the pinpoint exploded, encompassing him in its brilliant shades of verdant green and hazy blue. Along with the light came feeling, and hot, humid air wrapped him in an embrace that felt like home. He saw his bare feet standing on lush, warm grass. Looking around, he saw ferns, dense jungle trees, vines and thorns, and all the little creatures that made that foliage their home.

The trickle of a nearby stream brought his attention to the space behind him, and there, sitting on a large, moist boulder, was a man who looked both strange and familiar. He was a big, brooding figure wrapped in colorful, green, and yellow-scaled leather. He wore a tooth-adorned necklace and clutched a massive macahuitl—Victor recognized the weapon type from previous visions into his bloodline. He focused on the man’s face—darkly tanned skin, golden-brown eyes, a hawkish nose, and a dark brooding brow. Suddenly, the familiarity became clear: he resembled Victor.

“Strange,” Victor said, stepping toward the man. “Usually, when I have a bloodline vision, I feel like I’m walking in my ancestors’ shoes, not staring at them.”

The brooding figure broke his stony expression by grinning, exposing straight, white teeth. “You’ve eaten something potent. Your bloodline was already nearly pure, and now I’d say you’ve woken so much of me that my memories are boiling in your blood, eager to expose themselves to you.”

“So,” Victor sat on a rock across from his ancestor, “you’re not real? I’m not speaking to your spirit?”

“Hah! I’m as real as you are! As real as your blood. When I had my children, some of me was built into them. Those bits of me went down and down and down through the generations, buried deeper and deeper, but you’ve been working to bring them out, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, I—”

“No need to respond, Victor. I know what you know!” He laughed. “I’ve always been a part of you, as have your other ancestors, even your dear, sweet abuelita. We’re all in here.” He reached forward to tap Victor’s chest with a thick, powerful finger.

“But, you’re somewhere else, too…your spirits—”

“Of course! We leave some of us in our children, but our selves carry on. I wonder what I’m doing now? Do you think I found a new life? I know you’ve listened to your ancestors. Chantico has spoken to you more than once. I wonder if I’m out there somewhere.” Victor didn’t think he expected an answer, so he just nodded. “Are you wondering why I’m here? Why the magic of that egg you consumed has awoken me and granted you this strange vision?”

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“Don’t you know?” Victor arched an eyebrow.

“Hah! Of course! You’re burning with curiosity!” He chuckled, then reached down to the little stream and scooped up a little crystalline water, flicking droplets off his fingertips at Victor. It felt good in the sweltering heat, and his ancestor chuckled. “I’m Tenecoalt, Victor, the most prominent progenitor in your blood. You’re alone, trying to embrace a bloodline you only partially understand. I will provide some guidance.”

Victor’s heart began to race. Was he finally going to have some answers? Something more than the cryptic hints Ranish Dar doled out? “I’m

“I know you are! Listen, Victor, we have some time, but as you no doubt know, time moves strangely when the world you inhabit is inside your mind. One task before us is to make proper use of the Energy and clever nature of that natural treasure you consumed. I see you’ve managed to awaken a Breath Core. That’s a feat worthy of praise; in my time, only a few of our kin managed as much. I know you played a large part in the battle against a tremendous elder wyrm. Even I would have struggled to slay such a beast! Alone, I mean,” he chuckled, “not with the aid of an army of hunters.”

“I—”

Tenecoalt held up his hand, “Allow me to speak for a while, brave descendent. The wyrm reminds me of something important, and I think we have the time. You’ve done well to learn a great secret of us Quinametzin—well, of us and others with similar titanic ancestry. Our flesh is potent—resilient and malleable, able to adapt and overcome almost any adversity. You’ve already awakened many secrets of our blood. For instance, not every species can gain regenerative abilities like those you boast. Not every species can awaken a Breath Core.

“When you consume a vanquished foe’s heart, you consume a piece of their spirit, and as your mighty Quinametzin gut absorbs their flesh, your blood sifts through the tiny building blocks, delving it for secrets to incorporate. You must know that not every heart is worthy of your attention, and even if you come upon a mighty heart, if you feel undeserving, the ritual will fail.”

Victor nodded. “I understand.”

“You begin to reach true heights of power. I know from your experiences that there’s a new entity in the universe, a faceless ‘system’ that guides you, though I’m sure it takes its toll from your successes. Soon, you must shrug off the shackles of that nebulous master if you intend to grasp the true meaning of your bloodline. No doubt it will feel scorned and retaliate, likely sending tribulations and challengers your way. In that case, you should learn as much as possible, gain as much power as possible, and ensure you are ready to face dire threats before you do.”

“How—”

“Gleaning what I can from your memories, I believe the ‘system’ will put you on the road to your own liberty. When you pass beyond this ‘level one hundred’ and begin to construct your own ‘class,’ you will touch upon the truth. When you taste it, when you see the trail of blood, hunt it down, Victor. Do not be quieted and made docile by the promises of the ‘system’ and its minions.”

Tenecoalt dragged his hand through the water again, flicking more cool water at Victor and them himself. “Do you enjoy this heat?”

Victor nodded, turning to gaze up at the hazy yellow sun. “I do.”

“Good. This is what the world was like when we walked the Earth. Hot and green, a threat around every corner. The world was full of Energy, and we learned to use it for ourselves. We were among the best at it, infusing our bodies with it to great effect. I feared nothing, Victor—no creature, no man, no monster, no demon. With my macuahuitl, crafted from the metal of fallen stars, I killed giants, dragons, wyrms, and great, undying fiends that poisoned the land where they walked. Embrace that heritage, Victor! Don’t bend to this ‘system!’ Not for a moment longer than you must.

“A final admonishment before I help you with the natural treasure that threatens to dissolve your flesh: your people are gone from the Earth, whether by choice or vanquishment, I do not know, for, in my memory, the Quinametzin were numerous. Make the worlds you tread upon remember us! Do great deeds, and just as you must move out of the ‘system’s’ shadow, you should bow to no one—no prince, no king, no emperor, and, Victor, no queen. If fate conspires against you and someone capable of slaying you demands you kneel, then you must be willing to die on your feet with a weapon in your hand. You’re strong enough now to make that choice.”

His words hit Victor hard. How many times had he knelt to Kynna? Was it so wrong to show respect? Before he could argue or ask why, Tenecoalt answered his thoughts, “Regardless of your justification, Victor, your spirit wanes when you submit. If you find my words too harsh, if you wish to be a shadow of your progenitors, then that is your choice.”

“I don’t want that. I want to be strong and true, but I want to be respected and loved, too.”

“Then find a balance without compromising yourself. The Quinametzin do not kneel.” Tenecoalt sighed and shook his mane of long, black hair. “We waste precious time. I advise pushing the Energy from your natural treasure into your Breath Core. The contents of that ancient egg are potent and fierce, and I believe it will benefit you far more used that way than if you spend it on your already well-advanced Energy Core.

“As for your bloodline, I have further good news. You’ve awakened much of me, and so have you awakened my memories and experiences in your blood. You won’t know it, but those memories will speak to you. Listen to your instincts! Let them guide you with the wisdom of our people. When you face a difficult decision, think about how you feel. When you hear a warning in the back of your mind, listen. Though it seems innocuous and may feel like nothing when you sit alone in the safety of your fortress, this is the greatest boon you’ve yet received from your bloodline.”

When the fierce warrior paused, Victor knew what he was expecting. “Thank you, Tenecoalt.”

“So, you agree, then? About your Breath Core?” Before Victor could form his mouth around the word “yes,” he felt something. It was a stirring in his chest as though a great blockage had been cleared, and cold, roiling Energy began to course through him. Rather than unpleasant or numbing as such dense, powerful Energy ought to feel, it was refreshing and seemed to balance the heat of his other Energies.

“There. As I feared, using the Energy is bringing our time together to a close. I’ll surely see you again, Victor, my brave descendant. Heed well the lessons I planted in your mind this day.”

“I will,” Victor said, but he’d barely said the words before his vision faded, and blackness once more claimed sight. The world became silent again, and he drifted in that dark, endless abyss for what seemed like a very long time. He drifted for so long that he lost track of it, and when dreams began to seep into the nothingness, he didn’t even realize it. He dreamed of wild rides on the backs of stallions, swimming in deep, icy waters, and laughing with friends and loved ones.

When his eyes fluttered open, he was fresh from the throes of one of those latter dreams, and upon seeing the domed ceiling of his vault chamber and remembering where he was, the smile on his face rapidly faded. Blinking, feeling a hollowness in his gut where some nebulous family or friends had been while he dreamed, he realized System messages were waiting for him. As he read them, his melancholy receded as a broad, bright-toothed grin split his lips.

***Congratulations! You have advanced your bloodline: Epic 5.***

***Congratulations! Your Breath Core has gained six ranks: Advanced 5.***

***Congratulations! You have gained a new feat: Wisdom of the Quinametzin.***

***Wisdom of the Quinametzin: Your bloodline is rich with mighty ancestors, and they live on in the history written in your blood and bones. Your instincts are supernaturally accurate, and your feelings about a person, thing, or place are the echoes of your progenitor’s memories.***

“Well,” Victor said, his cheeks beginning to hurt from the smile on his face, “that’s pretty badass.”

He was curious about his Breath Core’s Energy, so he looked at his Energy status:

Breath Core:

Elder Class - Advanced 5

Core:

Spirit Class - Epic 3

Breath Core Affinity:

Magma - 9, Blue Ice - 9

Breath Core Energy:

5900/5900

Energy Affinity:

Fear 9.4, Rage 9.1, Glory 8.6, Inspiration 7.4, Unattuned 3.1

Energy:

36871/36871

If he remembered correctly, he’d had 2800 Breath Core Energy prior to his advancement, so he’d more than doubled it. It still looked like a small number compared to his Spirit Core’s Energy, but it was a hell of a lot more than one hundred, which he’d started with when he’d first eaten the wyrm’s heart. With a satisfied grunt, he clambered to his feet and smashed his head and shoulders into the top of his vault. “What the…”

He looked down at his legs and torso, holding out his arms and hands as he stooped over in the chamber. He’d made himself smaller when he went into the vault, but even considering his Alter Self had been canceled by his time under the effects of the egg, he’d grown a great deal. If he were guessing, he’d say he was now more than fourteen feet tall. “Chingado,” he sighed, then reached into his pathways and built the pattern for Alter Self.

When he reduced himself, it felt easy—effortless, even. His body responded to the magic far more rapidly with less Energy input than before. Did that mean he could alter himself even further? Was he becoming more like Tes in that regard? Was it thanks to his now mid-epic-tier bloodline? “What the fuck comes after epic?” He laughed as he turned the key in the vault door, ready to see what he’d missed while sitting around chatting with his hundred-thousand-year-old ancestor.

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