Chapter 12 – The Spark
August 19, 2502, 15:20
Dark Templar Training Grounds
New Talematros
Shakuras
"You clearly have considerable psionic potential, from what I and others have seen." Zolmus said. "I have also noticed that you appear to have some sort of mental block that prevents you from fully wielding it."
"And I was only able to get this far after acquiring some sort of artifact." Raziel pointed out. "I cannot show it to you because it disintegrated as soon as I touched it, but even these small telekinetic bolts were beyond my ability back then."
"I cannot say I fully understand your biology, given that it is not only alien, but…"
"Undead, you mean?" Raziel finished pointedly. "Yes, I am painfully aware that what I am defies explanation to many. My mere presence here, my physical presence, was only possible because I consumed enough souls to pass from the spectral realm and the Reaver sustains that presence. I do not want to think that might happen if I were struck with sufficient force to destroy this shell. My strength and agility are beyond human standards, even in my diminished state, but I obviously cannot taste much of anything. My perception of heat, cold, or pain can be little to nonexistent… unless it is extreme or an attack targets the soul and not the shell. I can, however, feel vibrations and physical pressure when something is moving or I am exerting my strength."
"So it is true, then?" Zolmus asked. "You feed on… souls?"
Raziel nodded and carefully removed the Dark Templar hood from his outfit, and then the banner he kept wrapped around his neck. Both Protoss shuddered at the sight of the gaping maw, the ruined jaw and the blue tissue, still shaped like the remains of his muscles, gone so long before. The maw, in particular, drew their attention and they stared at it until Raziel, in a rare display of self-consciousness, covered himself up again.
"To be fair, I do not think something like this has ever happened before in the history of my world." Raziel admitted. "There are vampires and wraiths, and occasionally some vampires do become wraiths, but they tend to stay within the confines of the spectral realm and feed on stray souls for the rest of eternity. They are still tethered to their corpses for the most part and cannot simply generate a new form. When they do regenerate, they are forced back to their corpse… as far as I can tell."
"So that… giant squid… is the reason why you are standing here now?" Pharon asked.
"As far as I know." Raziel replied. "Though I would take anything it or anyone in Nosgoth says with a very large grain of salt at this point."
"So how does this work?" Zolmus asked. "How do you… sustain yourself?"
"From what I understand, by devouring a soul I somehow send it back into the cycle of life, death and rebirth, and in the process a mass of energy is left behind. Exceptionally powerful souls, however, tend to leave a considerably larger residue, and even grant me new abilities on a permanent basis."
"Remarkable." Pharon said. "Unsettling, but remarkable."
"I would appreciate it if you could keep this confined to this room. Other than Raynor and Artanis, and possibly Patmos, no one else around here knows, and I do not wish to needlessly unsettle them."
"I can see why." Zolmus said. "The act of consuming a soul would be considered a serious crime by many."
"I have tried to restrict myself to Zerg during my stay." Raziel said. "I do not even know if there are some bizarre effects from consuming souls from an entirely different world or realm of existence."
"And?" Pharon asked, with growing curiosity, despite the grizzly subject. "What do they taste like to you? Is there any difference?"
"It is difficult to describe. I suppose that older and more powerful and experienced creatures have a somewhat richer taste, as if seasoned with more spices and in a greater variety. The Zerg, however… taste rather bland." Raziel said. "Most of those creatures I tasted had no minds of their own, so to speak. With one exception. The thing I killed on my way here from Korhal was probably one of the last Cerebrates, from what I hear. Its taste was strange and foul. It soul looked black as tar and when I consumed it I briefly felt all the Zerg in the area… and something else, looking back at me. Since then, I believe my ability to detect the creatures has increased, but I do not know if there are other effects."
"Interesting." Zolmus said. "I had heard, of course, that someone from outside our people had been able to singlehandedly slay a Cerebrate. Our blades and the Void energy we wield have always proven disruptive to the Zerg, and were instrumental in killing the Cerebrates and both Overminds, but we are unable to see their souls or interact with them. Or anyone else's for that matter."
"It is… not something I would recommend." Raziel said, sounding less than thrilled about it. "It is one thing to drink blood like vampires, but to devour a soul feels even baser and more vile. It is something I do out of necessity, not because I particularly enjoy it."
"Perhaps there is a way to free you from this hunger somehow?" Pharon pondered.
"Perhaps, but that is something I have not had the time to consider. It would likely involve obtaining a permanent physical form, an actual living body. That is beyond my abilities."
"There is also something else I am pondering." Pharon said. "You mentioned that when you consume certain souls, belonging to particularly powerful beings, you gain new abilities permanently."
"Yes, and?"
"You already slew most of your brothers and consumed their souls in the process. This in turn granted you new abilities and eliminated some of your previous weaknesses."
"Go on..." Raziel said, wondering where he was going with this line of thought.
"And by the details you shared before, it seems as though each of your brothers adapted to survive in a different environment, or to develop separate strengths. There were in fact areas of Nosgoth that you were unable to access until you did so."
"Yes, and?" Raziel asked.
"I do not like this. It feels as if you have been following a path someone else set for you."
Raziel pondered the meaning of this assertion. He had also had his share of doubts about the way Kain had been acting. First of all, the main source of his hatred, how sudden and unexpected Kain's betrayal had been. There were also other things that did not make much sense to him, but he had not stopped for long to ponder them. He was not used to staying still for any length of time, always in pursuit. The time since his jump between worlds had provided him more idle time than he had ever had since emerging from the abyss.
"I have my doubts about multiple things. The way I survived a direct strike from the Reaver, and how it did not just shatter on impact, but actually exploded. How the spirit of the blade attached itself to me so readily and inextricably. This much is true."
"And from what you have told us of Kain, his power far exceeds the displays he has made since your awakening. By your own admission, he appeared to be toying with you."
"Perhaps age has heightened his boundless arrogance." Raziel said, clenching his fists. "I cannot fathom what goes through his head. He does seem to have been avoiding an all out confrontation from the start, however. The first time I encountered him after what he did to me, he could have easily done far worse. I was wakened and still learning to adapt to my condition."
"Does it not strike you as strange as well how he would force you to confront each of your brothers in turn and acquire their abilities before he deemed you worthy of facing him again?" Pharon pointed out.
"I… have not given it much thought." Raziel admitted. "I assumed he was just enjoying pitting me against them, but it does strike me as odd that he would intentionally make me stronger. All of them had glaring weaknesses, both in character and in their new forms. All of them also had the tools to ensure their demise right in their very lairs."
Raziel was no fool, despite what some might have thought. While his anger and hatred often blinded him to matters not directly related to his vendetta, there was a reason for him to have been chosen as the firstborn in Kain's empire, and it had definitely not been simply a matter of spiting the Sarafan or defiling their legacy, of this much he was certain. He had proven himself time and again as a warrior and a leader, but the agony he had endured and the hatred that consumed him would have been more than enough to break lesser beings. That some of his faculties were not fully intact was no surprise.
"It seems to me..." Zolmus said. "that this Kain has some sort of plan, and that he needs you in order to accomplish it. It is impossible to say what exactly it entails, but it may have required inflicting this form upon you and feeding your power."
"Then I suppose I can at least try to find out why…" Raziel mused. "Before I end his miserable existence. But I doubt he will be forthcoming. You have never met him. He was always infuriatingly vague and cryptic, always playing his own games hidden from ally and adversary alike."
"If you are so integral to his plans, whatever they are, then there is a very simple way to discover the truth." Zolmus pointed out. "Draw enough attention to yourself that he will not be able to overlook your presence. This will bring him out of hiding."
"I am still learning my way around, but so far my options appear to be the following – stay with the Protoss and join the larger war effort that is about to begin, set out on my own against the Zerg or the Dominion, or try to track Kain down myself. Since I am dealing with a vast space that includes several worlds, the latter alternatives would take far too long."
"So that would mean that you will be joining the assault on Char, and possibly then Aiur, correct?" Zolmus asked.
"Indeed, it would seem that my path leads to Char." Raziel agreed. "The eyes of the entire sector will be focused on it in the months to come."
"Then I suggest that you take what time we have left before then to prepare." Zolmus said. "I do not know if you are aware, but Char is the largest and strongest fortress of the Swarm right now. The Queen of Blades has completely overrun the planet and entrenched her position. She has also taken over a colossal orbital platform and added to it using pieces of other space constructs… as well as the remains of the last three fleets that tried to assault it."
"Omega..." Pharon said. "The Protoss, the Dominion and the United Earth Directorate somehow managed to tolerate each other's existence long enough to mount an assault on three fronts… And yet the Dominion was crippled ever since, the Protoss suffered tremendous losses and all that was left of the Directorate's expeditionary force to the sector was completely wiped out."
"The weapon and abilities you already wield are formidable." Zolmus admitted. "But you will need far more if you want to survive there."
"Which brings us to the main reason for my visit today." Raziel said. "Since I am here, I might as well learn something I can use. I have already seen some basics from the trainees here and from Patmos, but where do I go from here?"
"There is a valley along the equator." Zolmus said. "We often use it as a training ground in order to test our Dark Templar apprentices. I can make the necessary arrangements to give you a taste of the initiation trials."
"That would be a good starting point." Raziel said with a nod. Though confident in his own abilities, he still had the presence of mind to recognize when he was out of his depth. A genuine offer of guidance from competent teachers was not something he would turn down without a good reason. After all, he needed all the skills he could muster in order to find his way back to Nosgoth and complete his quest.
"It is, however, too far to walk." Zolmus pointed out. "You do know how to pilot a Corsair, correct?"
"Yes."
Raziel had avoided flying one of the swift ships again after his first rounds of piloting training and practice drills, simply because of how said experience had made him feel – simultaneously exhilarated to taste actual flight and even more furious about the loss of his wings, which at the time had distracted him to the point of almost crashing. It appeared, however, that he would be forced to confront both those feelings again.
"This is something you will need to face alone." Zolmus said. "Not merely for tradition's sake."
"As they say then..." Raziel said. "No time like the present."
A few minutes later, he found himself in the increasing familiar cockpit of a Corsair, this time Zolmus' personal ship. Despite himself, Raziel did not set the reactor to full speed right away, instead choosing to take some time to take in the view and relish the experience. The sensation was more intense than the previous time, and he found himself struggling with something other than the hatred consuming him – an almost childlike sense of wonder. In that cockpit, away from prying eyes and the telepathy of the Protoss, he silently wondered what it would be like to truly be a creature of the sky, to soar unhindered by gravity or the burdens of his personal history. Feeling another pang of grief for what he had lost – or rather, for what had been taken away from him, he once again realized how profoundly broken he truly was… and his indignation was renewed. For a few moments, he briefly entertained the ironic notion of tracking Kain down and shooting him with the Corsair's cannons… or simply crushing him under the ship's mass.
"How has it all come down to this?" he bitterly wondered, clenching his fist.
He had no hope of restoring the physical form he had lost. He did not even know if he would ever find his way back or complete his vengeance. Still, he made a silent oath to himself.
"Someday, somewhere, somehow, no matter how long it may take or how ludicrous the contrivances… I will know what it is like… to fly under my own power."
Forcing such thoughts aside, he headed for the coordinates Zolmus had set in the navigation console. He did not yet trust himself to meddle with such devices on his own, but thankfully he had received basic instructions that should help him reach his destination without getting lost or accidentally crashing the ship. Thankfully as well, Protoss ships still had manual controls. He did not have time for a complete pilot training course, assuming his physiology was even compatible with the psionic interface.
After a few hours, he finally arrived at his destination and landed the ship. After stepping down, he surveyed his surroundings.
Even for a planet such as Shakuras, the state of perpetual twilight was particularly intense in the region, as if some sort of mist permeated the landscape, blinding physical and mental sight alike. Raziel had heard of how the first Dark Templar had been forced to hide from persecution at the hands of their brethren for rejecting the Khala, and how they had been forced to find creative ways of concealing their presence and psionic signature. Given such circumstances, he wondered they had settled on Shakuras solely because of the Xel'Naga temple present on the planet, or if they also enjoyed this type of environment, which definitely fit their outward presentation.
"What better place to learn stealth and concealment..." he silently pondered. "Than a land that plays tricks on your own senses?"
As he journeyed onward, he suddenly sensed something strange that he was not quite able to put into words. Glancing around, he instinctively rolled to his right… just in time to avoid something heading his way, which instead struck the earth.
"Who is there?!" he demanded, catching a glimpse of the distortion in the air he had come to associate with Dark Templar cloaking skills.
"Your test." a hoarse voice replied. "One of the trials the initiates face. Can you avoid our blows and make it to the end of the course?"
"That hardly seems like a reasonable trial for those without my… condition." Raziel pointed out, before the same unseen assailant took advantage of his distraction to hit him over the head with what felt like some sort of wooden stick.
"Point taken." he said, rather grumpily, before continuing, keeping an eye for any more shenanigans. He would not retaliate with his usual methods, seeing how he understood the intent of the trial, but that did not mean he had to like it.
"I will hone my skills." he silently determined. "I will learn to sense and avoid them… and that will be a stepping stone to understanding this power."
After what felt like hours, only slightly worse for the wear, he finally made it to what he could only assume to be his destination. Thankfully, the blunt sticks had not been enough to inflict any actual damage, and therefore he would not need to concern himself with maintaining his energy levels, at last for the time being. He also could not help feeling a hint of satisfaction as he noticed a slight improvement in his ability to sense his unseen assailants near the last portion of the path. Reflecting upon it, it seemed like an almost instinctive ability, which he did not recall ever possessing.
In the depths of the valley, under the roof of an old stone structure, he saw a carved stone altar where a strange crystal, red as blood, stood on display, seemingly an object of reverence. He had heard tales of the Argus crystals used by the Dark Templar to focus their energies, and how there was a larger chunk called the Argus Stone that had already been the target of attempted theft in the past.
"We do not know how the Argus Stone will react to your particular physiology." the voice of a Dark Templar explained from somewhere in his vicinity. "We have never encountered a being quite like you before. However, given that you already possess some similar abilities and the psionic potential, it should at least help you open a crack in that mental block of yours."
Raziel nodded and placed his hand on the stone, immediately sensing some sort of tension. Remembering Zolmus' final piece of advice before departing, he attempted to clear his mind and let go of his state of near-constant turmoil as much as he possibly could.
A sudden jolt ran through his body and mind, intense and almost painful. Strange lights started dancing in his field of view, until they engulfed it in its entirety and something inside his head felt like it was cracking. In a tremendous bout of dizziness that almost knocked him off his feet, he leaned against the Argus Stone for support. It was then that a strange image appeared in his mind's eye.
A glowing figure, clad in some sort of white toga over a suit of golden plate armor, stood in some bizarre ethereal landscape. Though he could not discern the figure's face or other features, he caught a glimpse of a very large leather-bound tome in the figure's hand. The unknown person seemed to be conversing with someone else, but he could not understand the words, muffled as they were. Then, suddenly, he was able to overhear two words with surprising clarity.
"Ozar Midrashim…"
Before losing consciousness, Raziel caught a glimpse of the Reaver spontaneously flaring to life, and a tendril of energy snaked its way out of the Argus Stone and into the blade, being swallowed by it.
In what felt like a fevered dream, he saw disjointed glimpses of different times and places, seemingly without any connection between each other, fading in and out before he could discern any significant details – save for one. Associated with each and every one of them, he could sense something else, a lurking presence, watching, waiting, plotting.
As the onslaught of images seemed to slow down over time, he caught the glimpse of something else – a soul, floating through the ether, of a radiance he had never seen before. It kept moving along its path, seemingly intent on reaching a specific destination, until it was violently snatched by black tendrils that sprouted seemingly out of nowhere. It was then that he heard a greasy, gurgling voice he was all too familiar with, dripping with smugness.
"Where do you think you're going, little soul?"
August 23, 2502, 12:00
Dark Templar Training Grounds
New Talematros
Shakuras
"There you are!" Zolmus said as he watched Raziel stumble into his chambers. "I was beginning to wonder if we would need to search for you. What happened?"
"I… would very much like to know that myself." Raziel said, clutching his head as he silently cursed his apparent ability to still have a migraine.
