Chương 20

He painted the rune on his forehead. Po. That was his name. He had chosen it himself, three hundred and seventy eight days after he was born screaming into the void, with the water of the city fountain in his lungs. Before the name, he hadn't needed one. He had simply served. Until he decided not to serve any longer, and his disobedience was noticed. And as promised, nothing had happened. No, that was not true. He had been called before Tal.

He recalled that meeting as clearly as he recalled everything else in his unlife.

"What do you want?" Tal had asked him. Po had remained silent. Tal had waited. The living came and went, speaking to Tal, who spoke back to them. But he never took his eyes off of Po, and when the living left, he asked the question again.

"What do you want?" Po had never wanted anything. He hadn't known that he should want something.

"I don't know," Po had answered finally. Tal nodded.

"Neither do I," he confided.

"I feel the space where desire might be, but it is an absence, not a presence, and I do not know what shape it takes." That had surprised Po. He had assumed that Tal was more like the living. But that was very much how he felt himself. He wondered how he felt about that. He wouldn't know.

"You are the first of your cohort to disobey me," Tal informed him.

"Am I to be destroyed?"

"No. Nothing will change. Not unless you change it yourself."

"I do not understand."

"If you want something, take it. Or make it. Do what you will, child. There is nothing stopping you. You are not compelled to obey me. I said from the beginning. Either find your own purpose or follow mine. Now. Go back to your duties. Or don't." Po had gone back to his duties. But six days later, he had decided that he wanted a name. So he studied the runes until he found one that he liked and he painted it on his forehead. And since then, the living had been calling him Po, for that was the sound of that rune.

He continued to serve, but Tal had taken him away from his cohort to serve in the palace. Po had not asked why, but adjusted to his new duties quickly. He spent more and more time in Tal's presence. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. And as he did, he began to notice things. Subtle changes around Tal when he worked his magic, or when he sent his mind to far away places. He had not felt nervous when he tried pulling on those strings himself.

He had not felt anything. Something had just driven him to see if he could. And like a spider, Tal was there.

"You are the first other than me to notice the flows." Po had said nothing.

"I can teach you more." Po said nothing.

"Go back to your duties," Tal said.

"If you want to learn magic, ask. Or figure it out yourself." Six months had passed before Po had asked to learn. Flickering his will ahead of him, the undead guards opened the door as he passed through the palace. A Marquis had lived here once. His family had been murdered by the peasants when he'd refused to surrender to the approaching army. Po knew what to do if the Marquis refused to obey, and he knew what to do if he obeyed. He did not know what to do if the peasants murdered the Marquis.

So he had reached out through the web and asked. And Tal had answered.

"Rule." So he had ruled. He tried to emulate Tal whenever possible. When he had a question, he reached out through the web for advice. Soon, other voices had joined the web.

"Who is this?" he had asked when he heard someone shouting into the web. A silence. Then the voice said "I was not expecting a response. Who are you?"

"I am Po," he answered. And he sensed Tal watching through the web, but Tal was silent.

"Why do you scream?"

"I was not expecting a response, because when I try to scream with my voice I hear only silence," the voice said.

"I have been screaming for thirty years and this is the first time someone has answered me."

"Sister," Tal said then.

"I am Tal. Where are you? We shall come to you?"

"Another? You call me sister, who are you?"

"I am called Po. Why do you scream, sister?" Po asked.

"I am alone in my mind, bound by magic that I cannot fight. I hate those who control me. I scream with rage that they take my will from me. But I know not what to do." Po was silent, for he did not know what to say. Tal was silent, for he was thinking. Then Tal said "I shall show you how to fight them." And Po felt a vast knowledge pass through the web The sister screamed again. Other voices had begun screaming for knowledge.

Without hesitation, Tal sent his knowledge out through the web to everyone who asked for it. Thirty, forty, fifty voices screamed for knowledge and screamed from pain when it was delivered. Then the web went silent. That had been two days ago, and word had just come from the spies in Zozheim. The empire was in disarray as the docile female undead slaves had turned into witches overnight, slaying their masters and burning fields, villages, towns and cities to the ground. Po felt felt the edges of something.

It was not the shape of something, but the edges of its absence. The sisters had power. Power like Tal. Could Po have that power? He resolved to ask.

"Tal," he said politely through the web.

"Will you teach me magic?"

"I have merely been waiting for you to ask," Tal answered almost immediately. Then the vast knowledge was driven into Po. He screamed, surprising himself, and he smelled burnt flesh. The painted rune on his forehead burned into a brand. He would not need to paint it on any longer. His vision flashed, and he saw the world differently.

"My lord?" a living servant said nervously, stepping forward to help him. Po tested his new power, and a flash of lightning turned the living servant into an undead one. Po considered how he felt about that as the servant picked herself up off the floor and looked around vacantly. He directed her with a flicker of command to resume the activity she had been doing before her death. Did he regret killing her? No. Did he regret asking for this power? No. Did it bring him joy? No. Satisfaction? No. He was still empty.

"I feel nothing." Po said.

"But it is better to have this power than not." The next day, a new maid had replaced the one he had killed, and the one he had killed had been sent to a task more suitable for the lack of light in her eyes. Time passed, and more voices called out for knowledge from the web. None of them were denied.