Faris's mindscape was uniquely tailored to fit his mood and psyche, when he was growing up, it was represented as a blank white room with a table in the center with two chairs. When he retreated into his mind, both chairs were seated, Damien in one, Faris in the other. When Faris took in Anya's memories, a vault was created in the back of his mind and appeared in his mindscape, within this vault, he began to sequester the memories of those he defeated, those he defeated and took the memories off. After Anya came Uglauw and his men, then when Tartarus had taken over, the members of the Scarlet Heart that were part of Dr. Mandel's retinue that had been slaughtered by the shade had their memories absorbed in as well. When Faris lost his magic, his access to this section of his mind severed, the table broke, and one of the chairs disappeared. The vault's door cracked, and the memories flooded out, attempting to take over and suppress Faris's soul and identity, as well as suppress each other. Each memory cluster was complete enough to form a consciousness with a pseudo will of its own, each with their own agenda. It was in this chaotic mix that a concentration of memories and experiences alien to all the others gathered together, only to be absorbed by the only being capable of understanding them, the spirit that fused with Faris in the first place. After absorbing the collected experience of the several destroyed spirits put into Faris during the doctor's attempt to create a new enhanced child, the spirit absorbed and suppressed the other memories before turning his sight on Faris's mind, biding his time and waiting for a moment where Faris would be at his weakest before taking over. Ironically, it was the enhanced children again that caused the merge of human and spirit, but things were a little different.
Within Faris's mindscape, Tartarus could sense the physical appearance he took on within Faris's mind, he resembled Faris but was ghostly pale, with sickly white skin that looked as if the blood had drained from his body, his hair, a dusky dark red, reached to his waist and ended in small curls, and jutting from his head were antler-like horns, growing from his forehead, white as snow and ending in dark red to almost black tips as sharp as spears, the root of his horns jutting from just above his eyebrows, with some branches curling around his head like a crown of spikes. He grinned, canines and molars spiked like the teeth of a predator, and looked upon an unconscious Faris. "It's quite humorous," the shade began, "Spirits have no corporeal form, but in your head, I look a bit like you, I don't know whether that means I'm more human than I thought, or you're monstrous than you'd like to believe, but it's quite funny, especially when your other half, despite being so different physically, is closer to you in thought process than I ever could or would be." Tartarus narrowed his eyes, despite his best efforts, he could not find the consciousness or will that was known as Damien within Faris's psyche, nor could he find its traces within the other memories of the people he and Faris had slain, at first, he had assumed that Damien was simply fake, but the more he thought on it, the more suspicious it seemed, especially given the fact that Faris still had access to the memories Damien experienced first and foremost. After taking over Faris's body, and even while he had fought the enhanced children, Tartarus had combed through the child's memories and had seen how Angela had caused the incident that separated Faris's and Damien's mind enough to create the two distinct consciousnesses within their shared body. Despite their separation being caused by magic, he would have felt it if their consciousnesses recombined, but they did not, he would also have detected if Damien's mind was broken or absorbed by his or the pseudo wills created from the various memories Faris absorbed, but that was not the case either, it was as if the collection of memory and the force that held it together that created the will called Damien simply disappeared. Tartarus was curious about that, but aside from these curiosities, he simply enjoyed having control of Faris's body and desired to cause havoc and destruction as he had originally planned. "But not yet, not yet," He needed power, as potent as the green crystal sliver jammed in his heart was in both absorbing magic and allowing him to nullify the magic in others with his blood, he was still vulnerable to the physical changes in the world caused by the spells, and even worse so, his physical ability was mostly limited to human power, in which even attempting to go past the normal human limits would destroy his muscles, tissues, and bone, like it did against his fight against the enhanced children earlier in the day.
"Hahaha, that was only an overnight to early morning affair." Tartarus mused, smirking at his fortune, "The Owl and Werecat must be worried for this body," He ignored the odd stares made towards him as he sprinted towards Gurant's home, thinking first and foremost about how to maximize his time and escape scrutiny if his mind and mannerisms were observed. So distracted within his thoughts that he was, that he did not look up in time, and crashed into a figure.
"Watch where yer going brat!" A drunken voice called out to him. Tartarus looked up to see one of the residents of the slums who liked to beg for alms and money near the blacksmith district. "Ooh, I remember you, you're that kid with the old man, hehe, could you, perhaps have another donation you can make? I'm mighty thirsty you see." The man grinned, flashing a yellow smile.
"Amazing…." Tartarus began.
"Excuse me?"
"Look at how yellow those things are, and your breath, how the hell do you still have all your teeth? I'd have imagined they'd have rotted and fallen off by now."
The man's face, already flushed with alcohol, turned an even deeper red as he stumbled towards the boy. "Why… how dare you!"
Tartarus waited for the man to step within range, then kicked him in the groin, as the man collapsed he grabbed the empty bottle in the man's hand, smashed it across the man's face, then grabbed the man by the collar of the shirt to keep him from collapsing. Holding the intact half of the broken bottle, he held it close to the drunk man's face, a point dangerously close to the older man's Adam's apple.
"How dare I?" Tartarus began, eyes beginning to turn red, "How dare you, you disgusting piece of vermin, I would be content leaving you to your pastime of begging for alms day in and out, your survival means little to me either way, but to get in my way?" He laughed, dropping the man, "what's your name?"
The man blustered out a few hasty apologies, scrambling up, he flinched when Tartarus repeated his question. "My name is Goose, sir!"
The man was gangly and had a long nose, his jaw and hair were full of grey and white hairs, and in Tartarus's silence, he could hear the man's hoarse breathing, which created a honk like noise. Tartarus smiled, "hilarious, alright Goose, as you can see, you now owe me because I have chosen not to kill you." He watched, hiding his glee as the man gulped nervously. "In exchange for my kindness, I'll need you to do me a favor. Find out how many other people are like you, without a home, with little or no wealth, family, or friends, of low… social status, and so on and so forth. You know, garbage, people the city doesn't remember or care about." He dropped the bottle, listening as it shattered fully upon impact with the floor. "I'll give you two days to give me at least three names and locations, that should be… simple." He turned to leave, "oh, and, the guard chapter in this area? It will take some time for them to be reinstated, so don't get any bright ideas, I mean? Who's going to believe you anyway?" He turned, and once out of sight from the man, sprinted towards Gurant's home.
Upon reaching Faris's home, he found the door unlocked. Narrowing his eyes, he entered the narrow hallway leading to the kitchen and dining area. Upon reaching the end of the hallway, he relaxed, seeing Martha holding a bundle of various foodstuffs from the local market. She peered over the side, seeing Faris. Immediately setting down her groceries, she went up to him, concerned. "Faris? Are you alright? You're in a hospital gown?"
"I'm alright." Tartarus replied, "I broke my arm training, so I quickly rushed to have it healed." He relaxed his face and gave an easy-going smile, swinging his left arm side to side to corroborate his deception and assuage her worry. "I'm fine, better than fine actually, I just need to change really quickly and get to the venue, I only have about half an hour before it starts after all."
After a few seconds of silence, Martha eventually nodded. "Alright, would you like me to fix you a snack as you change? Something to take with you?"
"Nothing really, I'll just eat a double helping when I get back." Tartarus chuckled lightly, eliciting a laugh from Martha. Smiling at his success, the shade in disguise entered Faris's room, watching as two pairs of eyes stared back at him. His, their, Faris's room was still dark, Faris had turned off any lights, blown out any candles, and closed all his windows before he left to deal with the ra'zac, and it seemed that Minnie and Ventus had waited for him in here. Tartarus felt himself smile uncontrollably at the sight of them, and somehow felt relief in seeing them, a feeling and thought he dashed away with severe prejudice. Still smiling, he looked at Minnie."
Human? She asked, apprehensively, feeling something different about the boy before her.
"Yes and no," Tartarus replied, shrugging, "though our deal remains the same, so you need not worry, I have no reason to change Faris's bargain, and you probably don't really need to care either way." Based on Faris's experience, werecats were sensitive to emotions even without connecting their minds, so Tartarus took the time to suppress his natural bloodlust around Minnie, of course, Ventus was also confused, Faris's spell enchanted the crystal in the collar around the bird's neck to react to hostility and danger, it was likely giving the owl mixed signals about Faris. Yet the owl's sight, smell, and hearing still registered the same being. It was probably for this reason that Ventus did not speak, but also did not hiss or screech at the shade. Still lightly smiling, Tartarus found a small icebox, opening it, he pulled out a back full of strips of dry and lightly seasoned meat, tossing a decent amount to both Ventus and Minnie. They regarded the food, looking at the boy warily, he simply went to change.
Ventus and Minnie, both younger than 8, yet as intelligent if not more intelligent than the average human adult, looked at each other wordlessly, without even exchanging thoughts they seemed to convey their discomfort with the situation, a discomfort heightened by singing emanating from Faris's mouth. It wasn't a song either of them had heard, not from Faris before, nor from any of the many minstrels within the city, it was somewhat haunting and soulful, but terrifying at the same time.
As he lightly sang, Tartarus rifled through Faris's clothes, finding what he was looking for, he smiled. "Moron didn't even wear this for that fight." He said in a singsong voice, he looked down on a pair of odd-looking boots. The boots, while extremely thick, seemed normal enough from the front, but reached up to his knees, covered in pads of relatively thickness protecting his knees and shin like armor, the boot itself had steel toes, courtesy of the steel making machine Faris and Gurant developed. Tartarus put them on and reflexively stretched his legs out, testing his ankle movement, satisfied with his movement he strapped the boots on tightly and stepped out.
"Bye guys." He said softly, keeping a mocking tone away from his voice. He observed himself in the mirror, then smirked, dashing outside. The area he was in was one of the locations hit by the impromptu invasion, and whilst most of the damage was repaired, much of the scaffolding remained. Climbing up such a thing was a simple endeavor, and reaching the relatively flat rooftops of the slums, on the ground, it would take him nearly an hour to get to the venue, but going via the roof too would take less than five minutes due to building proximity. Sitting down he extended his legs, making sure his soles weren't on the floor, to the sides of the boots were bolts, after a few test-pulls, Faris unscrewed them, a slick 'shhck' sound rung out as the soles of his boots extending 6 inches below him. Unfurling a strap behind his hamstrings, an elastic strap ending in a metal bar curved out, acting as secondary support to the stilt-like addition to the soles of his feet. Where joints met were a complicated mix of steel springs, elastic bands made of rubber harvested from trees shipped from forests close to the border with Surda, created using Faris's extensive knowledge, the contraption could best be defined as jumping stilts, with an added measure of elasticity allow each foot to absorb enough energy to launch Faris at least 4 feet into the air from the ground to the bottom of the contraption, and a massive 3-7 feet forward depending on the angle of launch. When hopping with both feet together parallel to each other, like Tartarus was doing as he leaped across building roofs, one would resemble a kangaroo but only move at half to three-fourths of its speed, but even then, Faris moved faster than an average human running, Tartarus smirked to himself, Faris had some practice riding horses before, but with the speed of his hopping, he outpaced the average horse's movements in all but gallops. The ground quickly retreated from his view but rushed back just as quickly whenever Tartarus glanced down to make sure he cleared a roof, and eventually when he could see the building outline of the pavilion, he leapt off a building onto the ground. A few people looked his way, eyes widening in shock, Tartarus smirked, landing and immediately launching himself forward with extreme velocity, legs curled back almost touching his spine. The next bounce was lessened, then the next after, until finally, he was able to move in a relatively awkward but quick shuffle, a sort of half shuffling half jogging movement that caused more people to look his way as he passed by them, looks of shock replaced with laughter over the ridiculous display…
"Hello? Sir? You are entered in the race? You'll need to hurry, it starts in only a few minutes." A receptionist sat behind thick glass and a desk, she looked at the boy, who stood almost as tall as the average man with the stilts he had underneath. "Ermm… what are those?"
"My invention." Tartarus replied nonchalantly, "designed to help me run."
The woman looked at the child dubiously. "Really?" He was wearing a long-sleeved, loose-fitting shirt, and baggy leggings that ended in the boots connected to the contraption. Even as he stood still, every slight movement would cause him to shake and jiggle, the springs and bands making slight squeaking noises. The woman hid her smile as she watched on, after a few seconds she spoke again. "This is a race you are entering, you understand we are not responsible for any injuries you incur, and you are responsible for any injuries you cause to yourselves or others in the case of an accident, be you at fault, correct?"
Tartarus nodded. The woman shrugged and handed him a tag to place on his shirt. "Let's see, your name?"
"Faris Ser," Tartarus replied.
"Oh?" The woman recognized the name somewhat, but couldn't recall it fully. "Well, good luck."
Tartarus smiled, "I don't really need it." There were no rules for the third race other than one couldn't ride a horse or use spells to hamper other's movements. This third race was special compared to the first two, which were more like shows of simple physical fitness between various students and citizens. As such there were several obstacles throughout the race with scenarios that may favor one race over another. There were various rewards and accolades within each race's brackets, as well as with the whole race, for this reason, despite elves normally winning, humans, Urgals, and dwarves had close times. Tartarus made his way to the starting line…
Venka sat quietly, the room was dark, lit only by a few candles. In the center of the room, Farooq stood, his black robe and dark skin allowing him to blend into the gloom. "I am different from most sorcerers." Farooq began, his voice echoing slightly. "Tell me, Venka, what do you know of sorcerery?"
"Umm, you, call on spirits to cast spells you don't have the magical capacity to achieve?" Venka recalled what she learned in classes, sorcery, while not a major topic, was covered slightly. "Summoning a spirit is a battle of both magical capacity and will power, if you aren't careful, the spirit you summon may have a stronger will, and if that happens you'll die and become a shade…"
Farooq smiled, "Yes, correct. But there is a bit more to learn and understand." He raised his hands and began speaking out in the ancient language. "Each spirit has a title, a name in the ancient language or in their own language that they can be referred to as." Orbs of light, spirits, began appearing, they surrounded Farooq at first, then began to hum brightly, moving towards Venka. "Spirits are beings, they grow, learn, and communicate, they feast on magic, heat, and light. And they have an affinity for those with magic."
Venka looked at the multicolored, iridescent orbs, entranced by the humming, chirping sounds emanating. "They're… really pretty."
"Extremely dangerous as well." Farooq barked out a few clipped words, and with an annoyed sounding whine, the spirits retreated from Venka, Farooq took out a crystal, and the spirits swarmed it for a few seconds before retreating and disappearing. "A spirit's temperament is dependent on its age, and whether it had been a spirit merged with a corporeal body, forming a shade. The youngest spirits are the most docile, but they have little skill, they have an innate understanding of the intricacies and rules of magic, and can bypass the normal physical laws without expending nearly as much energy as you or I would have to." He brought forth a flower made of solid gold, with pearlescent petals. Venka looked at the flower, entranced by its beauty.
"The spirit… made this?"
"No, they changed it, it was once a normal Lily, but now, it is made of pure gold, diamond, and pearl, yet it is still alive. In fact, this is likely not the original, but one of its children budded from the countless seeds."
Venka looked at Farooq dubiously. The Surdan mage simply smiled, "reach your mind out to it."
Venka, after a bit of hesitation, nodded, reaching her mind out. She stood, shocked, "h-how?"
Farooq shrugged, "the spirits told me a few of their brethren did this to thank ShadeSlayer for his actions in the dispatching of Durza."
"Spirits don't like shades?"
"Their relationship is a bit more complex than simple like or dislike, some spirits crave the ability to take over a mortal body if only for a small amount of time, a body allows them to amass greater levels of power due to mortal beings naturally replenishing their stamina through food and sleep. Other spirits detest the idea of being bound in a mortal coil, but for both groups, there is the understanding that such a union is extremely painful, painful enough that all but the most docile and good-natured of spirits and mortals combining would end up as insane psychopaths." Farooq raised a finger, "of course, shades regain a semblance of sanity, and a will and identity composed of their spirit or spirits and the being that paired with them, time and intelligence will mellow a shade, but shades are still incredibly dangerous."
"Do, are spirits alive?" Venka asked, recalling how Seya mercilessly destroyed a few that escaped from the shade they slew together some months ago.
"A spirit would probably argue that it is as much a being as you or I. They can be born, grow, feed in their own way, and can be killed, though this is rare, oftentimes only spirits can kill other spirits, but a sufficient level of magic can allow someone to kill a spirit, but if you kill a spirit, you'll lose their goodwill for the rest of your existence, and humans are already the race spirits trust the least." He smiled, "Any more questions?"
Venka hesitated for a few seconds, "can… are, can the original human return from a shade?"
Farooq looked at Venka, her green eyes sparkling with a resolute will that hid the grief she carried. "Ah, about young Faris, you hold him in high regard." Venka did not answer, but Farooq nodded, speaking, "Venka, do you know why I asked you to come under my tutelage?"
Venka shook her head, "No, I assumed perhaps because of my magic capacity you wanted me to join your mage guild, but you haven't mentioned it at all."
Farooq smiled, "your magic capacity played a part in this, there are three factors that determine the risk of becoming a shade from summoning a spirit, the spirit's temperament, the summoner's magic capacity, and most importantly, the will power of the beings. A more powerful spirit will attempt to test the boundary of your contract and face you in a battle of will, but a higher magic capacity naturally makes them less likely to attempt to shirk your authority, if, like me, one lacks a large amount of magic, they make do with a strong will, forcing the spirit into submission." He frowned, "a powerful will can stop a spirit from taking over, and force it to comply, but even with a powerful will, I have never encountered a person fight back against a spirit after the fusion has already occurred. There is a silver lining however, the more powerful the human will, the more like the original human the spirit is, my assumption is Faris's will was strong enough for him to retain his identity, give an account by Eragon ShadeSlayer and Queen Arya of the elves, spirits fled Galbatorix's body upon his death, but no internal records speak of his personality changing drastically past his original turn to madness upon the death of his dragon."
"We learned about that." Venka said, "and that he was trained by a shade. Couldn't he have absorbed spirits back then?"
"Spirits don't refer to themselves by the original human's name if they won the battle of will. But the human's physical features don't change if they win either, Faris is a rare case, the only of his case. Hopefully, if you gain knowledge of spirits, you can find the answer yourself to Faris's status, at the least though, thanks to his own oaths, whether shade or not, you are the only one he will never harm, you seem to be quite special to him."
Venka blushed, but smiled sadly, "we don't talk as much as we should."
Farooq sighed, "our first lesson is almost complete, I'll teach you the words for spirit summoning, you'll memorize them, then, you can go, perhaps you'll catch him at a good time since this was a personal lesson you have the rest of the day free when you'd be in class otherwise."
"Thank you, teacher!" Venka said, putting on a serious face as Farooq taught her the words…
"You're an odd human." A beautiful voice called out.
Tartarus glanced at the source of the sound, a tall elf woman, standing nearly at a Kull's height, with a slim body resembling that of a ballet dancer, looked at him, smiling with friendliness.
Tartarus scoffed, "and you're an odd elf, is your height magically induced, or are all your family members so gigantic?"
The elf woman frowned at his annoyed tone. "Am I bothersome?"
"A little, I'm trying to listen to the announcer's rules, we don't all have superior hearing you know." Tartarus ignored the glares of the human and elven men near him.
Weyonna, that was the elf's name, was a tall woman of inhuman beauty, enough that she seemed popular amongst both elf and human men, some of whose gazes lingered a second longer than normal, the sight of even the normally composed elves ogling anyone, even another elf, made Tartarus burst into laughter, something he immediately halted, cursing at his own body's immaturity. His outburst had gotten Weyonna's attention, and after a few seconds of prolonged eye contact, Weyonna eyed his jumping stilts, Tartarus had averted his eyes then and had let out an annoyed sigh, which sparked Weyonna's attempt to broach him in conversation.
"I apologize for my rudeness." The elf woman simply smiled, folding her arms and lightly bowing, an expression of sorrow enough to make hardened criminals weep emerged from her face, causing many of the men watching to feel blood rush to their faces, Tartarus simply narrowed his eyes.
"As long as you understand," Tartarus smirked, he had been somewhat worried, with Faris's mind so strong, he had believed he would be more influenced by the boy's budding emotions, and knowing that the boy was beginning to develop physically and mentally had introduced a potential fear of puberty leading to distractions. So far, however, no woman he had seen caught his gaze, and for that matter, as a matter of pragmatic preparation, no man had also caught Faris's or by extension, Tartarus's gaze. Such emotions as love or lust were useless to Tartarus, and while Faris seemed to have some tiny experience with these emotions, they seemed too weak to sway Tartarus, especially in his catatonic state, the only major vice Tartarus suffered as a result of Faris was his voracious appetite and almost psychotic curiosity, both annoyances Tartarus found himself quite happy indulging in when he could, the emotion he was most surprised to encounter however was Faris's wrath, the heat of rage and hatred, both projected outwards and inwards amused the spirit. Eventually, he zoned back into the announcer's speech, catching the announcement of the race commencing in half a minute.
"Hey, ms elf." Tartarus began.
"Hmm?" The woman turned to Faris, curious as to the amiable shift in his tone.
"I have a wager for you. I'm testing these boots out, if I keep up with or even beat you in this race, I'd like you to fill a gemstone of mine with a bit of magical energy…."