The tendril of utter darkness was fused to Matthias Stonebreaker’s soul, growing like a sprout that smelled of decay. For most, the sight would have driven them into an all-consuming terror.

  But Matthias had nearly died not so long ago.

  And to him, the darkness felt natural.

  Curiosity, not fear, was what dwelt inside him, and he reached out, touching his soul, noticing how warm and comforting it felt. Though, when he brushed against the darkness—

  “It feels cold.” He drew back. “Like ice. Yet…it feels the same as my soul.”

  His soul felt warm, yet there was a coolness beneath that feeling.

  The darkness clinging to it was cold, yet there was a warmth deep inside it.

  It was as if they were one and the same, just as his shadow-tendril felt like a natural part of his body. In his mind, he knew that he should be horrified; that the tendril coiling around his soul was something unnatural. Something that should be feared.

  Yet—

  “Whether this darkness is Divine Breath or something else, it belongs to me.” Both his soul and the darkness pulsed in time with his words, like they were acknowledging him. “And with it, I’ll change my life.”

  Elation surged through him.

  He’d taken his first step toward his Awakening…but, he wasn’t satisfied. Not yet.

  “Altaizar said I had to learn to breathe with my soul.”

  He concentrated on his soul’s ‘chest’ area, where his lungs were in his physical form. “Maybe, here?”

  The more he focused on his soul, the more he could ‘feel’ it. It wasn’t quite the same as feeling his physical form, but it was the closest way he could describe it. He tried to focus on his soul’s ‘lungs’.

  “Breathe,” he whispered.

  He saw his soul’s chest move…but nothing changed.

  No sensation of breathing; it was like his spirit was mimicking the action of physically breathing, but the movement was hollow. No feeling of anything either entering or leaving his lungs.

  …wait, lungs?

  “Your soul doesn’t have lungs, you fool. But it still needs to breathe…” Matthias examined his soul and the coiling darkness fused around it with care. “When I move the shadow-tendril, it’s like I’m moving one of my arms. But…the tendril has no bones or muscles. In this void, I have no hands, yet I can touch. I have no mouth, but I can speak.”

  He looked over his soul again.

  It was only shaped like his body: but it needed no heart to pump blood, no eyes to see, no skin to feel, and—

  “No lungs to breathe,” he realised. “If it needs no lungs to breathe, then…”

  He concentrated on feeling his soul—all of it, including the darkness—then took control.

  The darkness deepened.

  Light flared.

  He imagined his soul as a single vessel of energy, like…

  ‘A censer,’ he remembered his brother’s birthday gift. ‘Fire burning within it, with holes to take in air. If I imagine my soul like a censer that takes in energy…’

  His soul shifted, its form expanding, like a lung filling with air.

  Particles of energy drifted from the void, slipping into his soul as it swelled. For a moment, he held the energy particles in place, similar to holding a deep inhalation.

  Then he ‘exhaled’.

  Energy flowed from his soul, disappearing into the void.

  “Was that Divine Breath?” he wondered. “Maybe I’ll try that again to check.”

  Again, he focused on his soul—breathing, taking in more energy—exhaling the energy back into the void. No particles stayed inside his soul, yet he was truly breathing with it.

  “I’m doing it…it’s working!” he cried.

  Once more, his soul ‘inhaled’...

  …a wave of dizziness suddenly swept over him.

  Pins and needles crept through his mind and body, ravaging his senses. His soul shuddered as the darkness fused to it writhed. After several heartbeats, the sensation passed, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion and an oppressive vertigo.

  Matthias stopped what he was doing.

  “Best not to keep doing this until I talk to Master Altaizar,” he groaned.

  As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he felt his consciousness rising, leaving the void and climbing higher until…

  …he was back in the cave.

  The flowing water of Blood’s Drop pounded his back; his body trembled. Hallucinations brought on by the Soul’s Lace began to fade, anchoring him back in the physical world. His body grew quiet as the onslaught of sensations bled away.

  “Way of stone. Way of stone. Way of stone,” Matthias repeated his mantra, grounding himself. He steadied his body until—at last—he felt the last-effects of the herbs clear.

  He had no clue how long he’d been in the cave, but it must have been hours at least: outside, the light filtering through the red falls had changed. Shaking himself, he got to his feet, stepped out of the falls, and shook the rusty water from his hair.

  Matthias looked down at his cold trembling hands.

  Deep beneath the sensations of his body—connected to the shadow-tendril—he could feel a presence, both warm and cold.

  Slowly closing his eyes, he concentrated on that presence.

  The thundering waterfall, the tang of rust in the air, the cold slicing to his very bones, and the red mist all oppressed his senses. Yet, his mind followed the presence along his shadow, diving deeper into himself until—

  He found himself in the void again, his soul floating before him.

  The next time he blinked, he was back in his body.

  A smile took his face.

  “It’s a single step,” he whispered. “But it’s a big one. My life is going to change.”

  “Master Altaizar?” Matthias poked his head around a tree.

  “Gah!” Altaizar jumped. “By Laurahasa’s fangs, Matthias, you nearly scared me into the after-world!”

  The mage sat on a stump in the middle of a copse of tall trees some distance from Blood’s Drop. Notebooks, flasks and various jars floated in front of him, seemingly supported by the air itself.

  A quill had fallen from the mage’s fingers.

  Altaizar squinted at the boy, who had dried his trembling body and reclaimed his clothes. He looked up at the sun. “It’s just past noon. What are you doing here already?”

  “You told me to come to you when the Soul’s Lace wore off.” Matthias leaned against the tree. “It did, so here I am.”

  The mage stared at him. “Don’t lie to me—”

  “I’m not lying: it’s worn off.”

  “What in the…how much do you weigh again?” Altaizar squinted at him, snatching a notebook from the air.

  “Around twenty stone.”

  “Big boy. There’s that giant’s blood for you, and to think you’ll be even heavier when you’re fully grown…” Altaizar looked Matthias up and down, opening the notebook and flipping through some pages. “Yes, I was right. I estimated twenty stone, and made the correct dose for that mass. You should be under its effects for another three hours at least…”

  “Maybe you got it wrong?” Matthias suggested.

  The mage gave him a withering look. “I accurately estimated your weight with a glance. I have studied the world across eight continents. I wield power beyond most mortal understanding! Do you really think I would get a dose of herbs wrong, Matthias? Of course I wouldn’t. There’s no way I could.” He scratched his silver-haired scalp. “I know I measured everything correctly. Unless…what did you do when you were having your visions? Sometimes physical activity can make substances burn through one’s system faster. The same can be said for spiritual activity when it comes to Soul’s Lace, so what did you do?”

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  “I searched for my soul and found it,” Matthias reported proudly.

  “I see, and then—Wait, excuse me?” Altaizar paused, removing his spectacles. “Matthias, this is no time for jokes.”

  “I’m not joking, I found it.” Matthias rose to his full height. Pride surged through him. “I really did: the Soul’s Lace’s sensations were hitting my body, but then I found a way to look deeper, and when I did, I was in this void! Then I saw my soul in front of me. It looked like—”

  “Stop!” Altaizar held up a hand. “Never tell anyone anything about your soul!” His voice cracked like a whip. “Under any circumstances!”

  “Oh.” Matthias had planned to leave out the darkness that was fused to his soul, but he hadn’t thought of hiding anything else. “Why not?”

  “To tell someone what your soul’s characteristics are is to make yourself vulnerable to them,” Altaizar warned. “You would be telling them what your innermost self is, and that can be dangerous; not only will it make you predictable, but some mages who engage in Old Magic can use that knowledge to ensnare you. Never share knowledge of your soul. Not with me. Not with your mother. Not even with your siblings. Not with anyone. Understand?”

  Matthias nodded quickly; that was even more reason to not tell the mage about the shadow-tendril, especially with what he'd said said earlier. “Understood, Master Altaizar.”

  “But…since you are talking about a soul floating in a void…it sounds like you might have done it…” Altaizar continued, frowning.

  “That’s not all, though.” Matthias grinned. “I got my soul to breathe.”

  “Alright, this time I know you’re lying.” Master Altaizar rose to his feet. “Don’t do that, things get more dangerous if—”

  “Hold that thought until after I describe it, then you can decide if I’m lying or not.” Matthias held up a hand, thinking about how to explain what he’d done without revealing too much about his soul. “I had to figure out how to use my soul to breathe since it didn’t have lungs but when I did that, these particles of light floated into it, then flowed back out. But, uh…I got dizzy after a couple of times—”

  “By the gods, you really did do it!” Altaizar cried, his jaw dropping. “What are you?”

  “A human with the blood of his giant ancestors flowing strong through him. We’re actually called greatfolk here in Evalmera—”

  “No, you fool! That’s not what I meant!” The mage tried to remove his glasses, soon realising he’d already taken them off. “That…that’s a skill I thought you might learn the rudiments of in perhaps two weeks from now! But you were able to find your soul, and figure out how to breathe with it in the span of a few hours? No wonder you burned through the Soul’s Lace so quickly!”

  Matthias’ smile blazed like the morning sun. “That could explain it, I guess. Not a big deal.” He buffed his nails on his cloak.

  “It is a big deal, and it’s quite incredible…” Altaizar muttered, his darting eyes unfocused. He seemed to be speaking more to himself than to his pupil. “You figured it out without instruction. By the gods, you might be a prodigy.”

  The boy’s heart skipped a beat.

  In his whole life, he had never been referred to in such a manner.

  He was a failure at The Gift and Life Enforcement. His skills with weapons and combat were often complimented by Sur Friya, but they were still greatly overshadowed by the feats of Kari and the others empowered by Life Enforcement. He was an average apprentice stonemason who didn’t consider himself to be particularly clever.

  So, to be referred to as a prodigy?

  It made his spirits soar.

  “This is truly fascinating…” Altaizar stared at the boy as though seeing him for the first time. “Those without The Gift or the talent for Life Enforcement are more common than not, but it did strike me as odd that—apart from your cursed brother—you were the only one in your family who seemed to have no talent for either. Perhaps the answer is that all of your hidden talent went toward the cultivation of Divine Breath. You just needed the opportunity to uncover it.”

  Matthias bowed. “Thank you for the opportunity. I will never forget it.”

  “No, thank you!” Altaizar crowed. “This study just became much more interesting.”

  He looked at Matthias like he was looking at a prized specimen.

  The boy found himself feeling awkward, glad he hadn’t told him all his secrets. “Er, so why did I get dizzy when I breathed with my soul?”

  Altaizar put his spectacles back on. “Breathing with one’s soul is like moving a muscle that has never moved before; it requires energy, and a lot of it. Honestly, you’re a robust boy, and that’s probably the only reason you didn’t find yourself passing out. But…this changes things. If you can already perform the fundamentals of soul breathing, we can advance much faster through your education. You might have a better chance of surviving your Awakening than I thought. Come! We’re going back to my tower.”

  “Oh?” Matthias asked excitedly. “Why?”

  Altaizar grinned. “It’s time for you to choose which deities you’re going to steal Divine Breath from.”

  Master Altaizar hovered in his meditation chamber, books flying around him like swarming bees. A holy symbol representing a member of the Pantheon of the Ascended was emblazoned on each volume.

  “First of all,” the mage began. “Which deity one ends up cultivating is dictated by a mixture of factors; the two most prominent ones are: what the natural alignment of your soul is and which deities’ Divine Breath suffuses the physical area of your Awakening Ritual.”

  “So, we can’t really choose then? I thought we could?” Matthias asked, eyes lingering on a single book. The symbol of Lykosion—a black butterfly wing representing the god of shadow—drew his gaze.

  “You can guide the process by picking the location of your Awakening ritual,” Altaizar picked up a sacred text for Amon Koth, King of the Deities and God of Death. His symbol was a ferry with the figurehead of a crown. “If you wish to cultivate Amon Koth, for example, perform the ritual in a place where his power is strongest, such as in a graveyard.”

  He let go of the book—it floated back to join the others—then gently took another one from the air. Upon it was a symbol of bloody shackles. “If you wished to cultivate Jormgund Scalebeard, God of Martyrs, then an area where unjust suffering took place would be best, such as in one of the prison-chasms favored by the Artenesian Empire. And so on. Gathering objects important to one deity or two deities can also guide your Awakening. Oh right, there are two paths to cultivating Divine Breath, one is—.”

  “The Path of Purity and the Path of Amalgamation,” Matthias said. “I read about the difference in your manual.”

  “How keen of you,” Altaizar grunted. “And did you read everything you need to conduct your own Awakening ritual? Am I still needed?”

  “…no.”

  “I’m not? Oh, good, I think I’ll go make supper then—”

  “No, no, no, wait, wait, wait!” Matthias waved his hands. “I mean that I didn’t read everything!”

  “Ah, good, then I suppose I won’t be interrupted again.” Altaizar huffed.

  “Sorry,” Matthias grunted.

  “It’s fine.” The mage waved away the apology. “What I was going to say is that you can only ever have one Tower in your soul, but that Tower can be formed from either one or two deities’ Divine Breath. Any more than that would be like mixing poor mortar: the Tower would fall apart instantly. In any case, whether your tower is formed of one or two deities’ energies, who they are will affect which powers you will gain as you advance through the Layers.”

  “How will I know which powers I’ll gain from which deities?” Matthias eyed the books hungrily.

  Altaizar groaned. “I hate this: guesses can be made, but nothing is certain. Specific powers will depend on the sort of Divine Breath cultivated, the strength of the cultivator and the soul of the cultivator. You will not know what powers you will gain until you begin building and ascending your Tower. As such, choose a deity based on what feels right to you. Choose one based on their portfolio. Choose based on which deities you pray to: you will likely gain powers that would suit your soul better.”

  “Right, then I want to cultivate the power of Lykosion,” Matthias said without hesitation.

  The mage paused. “…truly? That’s not what I would have expected. Sur Friya comments on your skill with weapons: wouldn’t Culf with his penchant for battle, or Enheduanna who governs victory be better? Even Khazak Ironbeard, with his domain over crafters, would suit you with your apprenticeship to the stone mason.”

  Matthias shook his head. “I want Lykosion.”

  Altaizar’s eyes narrowed. “Why? Too many boys your age become obsessed with ‘dark powers’. Don’t choose on a whim.”

  “I’ve wanted him since I broke into your tower.” Matthias pointed at the god’s holy book. “It’d suit me. I’ve had to spend my life in Kari’s and Siegfried’s shadows. I could step into the light, or I could make those shadows work for me. Also, he’s the god of thieves…and I’m about to steal Divine Breath from the deities. It’s a bit poetic, isn’t it?”

  “Huh.” The mage tapped his chin in thought. “I guess it is. Alright, you’ve convinced me. Lykosion’s Divine Breath will grant less physical robustness than some others would, but your giant’s blood could make up for that. Personally, I’d recommend picking a more physical deity to cultivate in amalgamation. Lykosion tends to grant powers that increase stealth, manipulate shadows, and control darkness. If you wish to defeat Kari, I would recommend taking another deity with more physicality as well.”

  Matthias thought about that for a moment. “I do honour Enheduanna.”

  Altaizar snatched her book from the air—her holy symbol: a prismatic claw, was emblazoned on the front—he handed both books to Matthias. “We’ll do the Awakening ritual in a place of shadows and use Enheduanna and Lykosion’s holy books.”

  “What about where I fell off the cliff?” Matthias suggested quickly. “The forest casts deep shadows, and the bottom of the cliff is where I defeated the gamrung. Shadows and victory in one spot.”

  He left out the part about gaining his shadow-tendril there.

  “A great idea!” Altaizar applauded. “We will pick the cliff for our ritual location.”

  “But wait…” Matthias paused, thinking things over further. “If we’re going to use that storm you talked about, won’t we need a higher place? Like the top of a mountain?”

  Altaizar’s laughter was dark. “With the coming storm and my talents…trust me, Matthias. If I want you to get struck by lightning on that day, you’d be struck by lightning, even if you were underground. In any case, read those holy books, then—for the next two weeks—we can focus on increasing your proficiency and stamina when it comes to breathing with your soul. After that? It will be time to Awaken.”

  Time passed shockingly fast, with each day filled to the bursting.

  In the mornings, Matthias would wake before the sun rose, racing to the tower and practising soul breathing in Altaizar’s meditation chamber. He would train until he grew dizzy, wait to recover, then start again under the mage’s supervision until sunrise.

  After a hearty breakfast with Altaizar, he’d travel to the stonemason and continue his apprenticeship, repairing the temples in the village with blistered fingers. Finishing in the late afternoon, he’d sprint to the combat training grounds, working with Sur Friya until his limbs were numb.

  By early evening, he’d be exhausted, but would rush back to Altaizar’s tower, continuing to train soul breathing and learning about Divine Breath until it was truly dark. Then dragging himself home, he’d have supper with Dagma and Sur Friya—his mother would be assigned to her patrol of the Wolfwood for some time—and half-crawl to his room, experiment with his shadow-tendril then fall into dreams of mist and shadow.

  Some days he would visit Bregindoure with Dagma; they would cheer him on, encouraging him when he was tired.

  Their words gave him more motivation to work harder.

  And his hard work began paying off.

  He went from being able to take two breaths with his soul before exhausting himself, to three. Then, four, then more.

  Things were going well…yet his hunt for knowledge had stalled.

  He could find no more information on the shadow-tendril. Manuals on the Divine Breath of Lykosion revealed all sorts of shadow powers available to his cultivators…but a tendril was not mentioned in any of them.

  And so, the days passed.

  Days became a week. Then nearly two…and the skies began to change.

  On the third day before the Awakening ritual, the eastern horizon turned dark.

  On the second before his Awakening ritual, black clouds swallowed the sun.

  On the final day before his Awakening ritual, the rain began to pour.

  And that night—

  “It’s just as I predicted.” Altaizar stared out the window of his study, pulling a strange lens from his robes. “Dream-glass.” He explained. “The crystal is formed from melting the sand of dreams. It’s able to capture light, sound, breath and thought…in Old Magic, it can be used to capture souls. The lightning will pass through this and strike you, body and soul. Tomorrow will be the day. Are you ready to die, Matthias?”

  Matthias Stonebreaker looked up from his manual on Divine Breath.

  He took a strong inhalation with his soul.

  “No,” he said. “I’m ready to live.”

  Patreon. There's up to 24 advanced chapters ahead on patreon as thanks for support!

  https://discord.gg/A4M3CzfWBn