Chapter 14: Ghosts

How do we measure the passing of time? Humans tend to measure it in seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, and years. But how long is a minute? There are many worlds out there. All of these worlds rotate at different speeds, they revolve at different speeds. When we arrive on a different world, be it planet or dimension we are not prepared for the difference in time. The first time I found myself transported through a dimensional rift I was stunned. Time moved so slowly to me for a while. I adjusted rather rapidly, but those first moments of confusion were truly unsettling.

There is something known as Locard's principle of change. It states that every time two physical objects interact they leave an impression on each other; there is an exchange of materials. I would like to expand Locard's principle; I suggest that the object need not be merely physical. Whenever two people interact they place upon each other an impression of themselves.

Every living thing has a flow of energy which contains their life. As we interact we leave traces of that energy on everything we touch. Every person we meet we exchange a little of ourselves with. The longer you are in contact with someone the stronger this connection grows. The longer your energy resonates on an object, the more of an image of yourself you leave on it.

Have you ever though to call a good friend and as you reach for the phone they call you? This is a direct effect of your connection to them. We are not aware of the links we form. And most of us can't use these links in any way. The only time we ever become aware of our bonds are when they are broken. When someone close to you dies you can feel your link to them break. At times they have left such an impression on you that a part of them is capable of living on in you.

It is also known that a person can leave such a remarkable image of themselves on an inanimate object, usually a home, that after their death it lingers. We have heard thousands of stories about these ghosts. Every culture has its ghost stories. The person has died but his life energy continues on feeding off of the energy of others and off the object which keeps him. Haunted houses fall apart faster than others. Haunted people tend to be far more tired that normal. These ghosts are not trying to cling to life, most don't quite understand their predicament.

Ghosts are only left over fragments of energy. They do not possess all of the traits of a human. They also are not complete. They do not have the same memories. They do not move normally. They are but fragments of the person whom they once were part of. And so we are left with fragments of the past wandering around our present.

"Tim... help... I need you."

The words, barely whispered, snatched at his mind. Tiro'lar jerked to his feet, his eyes flying open. He flew out of his nightmares and was instantly awake, his heart racing. For a moment he could almost remember something. A tendril of understanding grasped unheeded toward him.

"Are you alright Brother?" the voice of a young woman came from the ground by his feet. Her eyes fluttering open, Shai'lee looked up at where Tiro stood. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing Little Sister, go back to sleep." Tiro lay back down next to Shai'lee. He draped a wing protectively over her and tried to follow his own advice.

With the suns beating down on the feeble shade his cloak provided, he was unable to get any more rest. His mind was drawn to other things than sleep. He recalled the first day he arrived at the Ioshari village. Shai'lee had been so excited about coming home. She flew in patterns, giant figure eights. She played with the clouds. As her home came closer and closer she became filled with energy. The carefree way she flew, he realized, was not an abnormal trait about her. The young Ioshari was filled with ravenous desires for the beauty of life. Thinking about her then still brought a smile to his troubled countenance.

The village had accepted him with open arms. To a demon with no memory this place felt very close to home. He was overwhelmed with people literally swooping in to get a good look at him. Everyone had wanted to greet him. The elders of the tribe took their time to appraise him, but once they had decided that he was indeed Ioshari, he was welcomed in by them as well.

An incredible feast was arranged in honor of his welcome into the tribe. For a clan of two hundred, the addition of one more able body and proven hunter was an occasion worth celebrating. A race that can live to be many thousand years old without showing signs of aging doesn't tend to have too many children. Since demons cannot regenerate life force on their own it is not often that they have children. The mechanics are a little complicated. When a male and female decide to have a child they bond together in the most passionate way. While together they share their life energies together. The woman absorbs the energy within her. Then over time she feeds the growing spirit life from her own body. The more she is with that male she can take from him life too to feed the child. After the child has enough energy it will manifest a physical body within the mother. The rest of the story is academic.

The setting of the feast took little time at all. The leader of the tribe, an older looking man, tall with gray hair and wings, stepped into the middle of a clearing. Those gathered called him respectfully by the name and title of Iosage. He raised his arms and around him formed a massive round table, surrounded by an equally impressive round bench. The center of the table, where he stood, was open, a small stage. Over the next hour Ioshari came and went some carrying foods for the table, others preparing displays. As far as Tiro could remember this was the finest meal he had ever seen. This was the first meal he could remember, but it was still the finest.

Thinking of the meal and his lack of memory led Tiro'lar into thinking of darker thoughts. The Ioshari stood up slowly, sending calming feelings toward his adopted sister. He might have no choice of being awake, but she certainly didn't have to be. He decided to arrange for some food for his companions.

Hunting had been completely natural to Tiro'lar. The first time he had gone out to hunt for the tribe he had been right at the head of the party. He could feel where the prey hid like no other. He even could feel were the great naga hid. The hunt was very successful and he was praised by all gathered. The second hunt he went on they were attacked by the Kulghas, a nasty race of demons. These demons have few defining characteristics as far as racial features are concerned, some were tall some short. Some were fat, others thin. The main characteristics they shared were a complete lack of mercy, a bottomless vault of anger, and a hatred that burned with passion toward anything not Kulghas.

Kulghas is Ioshari for empty ones. They are the waste of all demon-kin. They were the most corrupt of the demon tribes and over time they merged from hunting packs to mobs. Finally they became one race as they poisoned each other through their lack of control over their own life lines. The Kulghas are completely barbaric. They don't think and move from one meal to another. No demon claims to lead them, and they claim no leaders. When a meal is scented, they hunt.

The Ioshari had found a naga that would feed the entire tribe alone. They had attacked it quickly and took it down. Ten Ioshari hunters working together can take down most creatures. While they were preparing the naga for travel, Tiro'lar felt a great hunger coming from just behind the rise leading to the valley they were in. He flew into the air to look down. From his vantage he saw a hundred demons rolling toward the rest of his pack.

"We are attacked!" he shouted down. He dropped back to the ground and called his sword. The other Ioshari quickly gathered in a circle - eight calling their swords, the other two standing in the middle of the ring. The two in the center each stabbed an arm into the snake and started drawing power from it. They would be ready to unleash powerful magic on the coming demons.

The battle was short and bloody. The Kulghas came over the rise and charged. The demons didn't seem to have a plan other than getting at the Ioshari. The two casters sent waves of energy out, crushing groups of the attackers at the same time. When the empty demons got close enough they were met with blades. Tiro'lar killed at least his fair share.

When the party returned home Tiro was given the honors of the hunt. It was his foresight that had caused him to investigate the surroundings which had most certainly led to their victory. The Kulghas were most deadly because they did not give off a noticeable amount of life. They were invisible to those who relied on their sixth sense for protection. By they time they were noticed their numbers would overwhelm a hunting pack. Tiro found it hard to believe that in the four years he had spent with the this tribe he had felt so much at home.

Tiro'lar moved cautiously since he was hunting alone. His prey would be harder to take down alone. Of all the brilliant ideas to have, waiting until the three travelers slept before striking might have seemed like a really good one of the naga's. Seeing the younger man stand up, it decided that it had waited enough. The giant snake with arms burst through the sand and sprung on the Ioshari.

Tiro watched in part fascination as the naga emerged. He had expected to have to search out his prey. He prepared for the attack, and felt a second explosion of sand. Spinning around he saw a second naga attacking his sleeping companions. Time slowed for the Ioshari. He watched in horror as the second naga's strike would consume the young girl, only now waking up.

The hunter reached toward the second naga, he reached for his power and unlashed it on the demon. He created a solid mass of energy and launched it at the naga. The bolt exploded from him, draining most of his energy. It moved very quickly even though he was still viewing everything in slow motion.

The second naga was struck by the bolt. It flew backward thirty feet, a fountain of gore left in its place. A crater the size of an Ioshari was scorched in its neck where the attack had hit it. The demon snake lay still.

The first naga then struck at the wobbling Ioshari standing in front of it. Tiro couldn't find the strength to fight back as he was swallowed for the second time. Just as the jaws began to close on him he heard the voice again.

"TIM... please... help." The plea came from somewhere far off, and yet it filled him. His memories suddenly flooded him again. As if the cry was bouncing off bells within his head, that simple plea struck every chord within him. The memories of a boy raised by human monsters flooded him. Memories of terrifying scars and their cause carved holes in his newly mended psyche. He felt again the cracks of each whip strike him. He also felt from a totally new perspective, all of the feelings he had taken from his sisters and mother.

He felt the pain of being turned, and remembered the kind vampire who had saved him and taught him the beginnings of vampiric life. The memories of his bloodbath quickly began to drown him. He killed one innocent after another until he had entered his own home with the intent to kill his family. As if sliding into place all of his memories filled that gap that had been missing in him. Lastly he remembered the betrayal of a kind voice within his head. With his newfound sense of balance and his knowledge of the shaping, he was overtaken by a realization. When he had entered his bloodlust, a demon had found him and latched on. It tried to force him to do many things and he had somehow resisted. It had changed tactics to pretending to help him.

He remembered it showing him how to rewrite minds. He remembered the elder that had taught him about mind control. "If you can get around controlling someone's mind it is best. It takes a lot of energy to do so. If they have any sort of a will they can fight you off, so the first thing you have to do is crush their defenses, a feat that alone may weaken you. Afterwards you have to get in and get out as fast as you can. He longer you stay the more of a strain." Tiro'lar remembered that he had not only mind controlled three people within a short amount of time, he hadn't been told to draw any additional power to do it. He started to piece together that the voice in his head had purposefully driven him to act in a manner that would kill or completely drain him. The realization struck him like the impending snake, it had wanted to take over his body.

The dreams he had been having, they were of his actions right when he had turned. The ones where he was a spectator however, were not of his doing. He was watching the demon in his body. His sisters, his mother, and Crystal too... they were being tortured by this monster. The Ioshari had taught him how to control his emotions, but he had never felt this way. His anger, his hatred was cold and calculating. A cold fire blazed within him. This Ioshari would not give up. He would get his revenge.

As the jaws of the naga closed he launched himself out of them. The man newly made whole was again filled with energy. The world slowed down for him and he watched the naga recover. The hunter's eyes gleamed in his eye expanded. A fire burned within him. He would get vengeance on those that had done this to him, starting with this snake.

The naga was moving at an incredible speed, Tiro moved a hundred times faster. He charged the naga and wrapped his arms around its midsection. His arms barely spanned any of its massive girth, yet once he had extended his claws he had a firm hold over the monster. The Ioshari braced himself and jerked downward, pulling all of the force out of the naga's strike.

From his braced position, Tiro'lar shoved with his left hand and pulled with his right. He applied some additional power in the form of telekinesis, slamming the demon snake onto its back in the sand. As soon as it landed safely out of the way of his charges, he flashed on top of its head. It struggled and its head was back upright. The Ioshari stood on the top of its head and stared into its eyes.

He reached for his sword, the birthright all Ioshari possessed. The sword he called appeared in his left hand. It felt like something was missing. He had unleashed what he had done before, but not that he had his memories he could feel a hole, a lacking he hadn't felt before. He looked down on his right hand and saw a raised rune. It was a very familiar symbol, the mark of the Ioshari. He reached inside and found what was missing. At his command a second blade formed - the complement to the one already in his left.

The naga hadn't moved at all in the second it took for Tiro to claim his swords. By this time it was too late. The Ioshari made a frightening image, both of his arms outstretched, a blade in each. His black wings outstretched even farther, turned slightly so they would help speed him. He charged up the bridge of the naga's head. He struck fast, his blades slashing into the eyes of the monster. He continued up the charge, his blades slicing though butter. With one beat of his wings he sprung onto the top of its skull, landing with both blades flashing downward. As his blades struck the snake he began to drain from the monster. Its energy filled him until he was brimming with energy.

He drew in more after he had been filled, this time in control however. He formed the excess into the shape of lightening bolts and shot it down his blades, directly into the brain of the monster. When enough energy had been sent, he leapt backward, just in time to catch the ripple of the head cavity exploding. He extended his wings beat a gust directly at the head, sending out a ripple of energy to prevent any of the gore from hitting him. He slowly drifted back down, letting his blades disappear.