Chapter 7: Invisible Eyes

Chapter 7: Invisible Eyes

The sound of bubbling liquids filled Valdemars room as he painted his grandfathers portrait on a canvas.

The Elixir of True Sight boiled in a flask, releasing colorful magenta fumes. The smell reminded the necromancer of formaldehyde, and it mixed terribly with the odors of fresh paints around him.

Hermann and Liliane shared Valdemars workshop, both of them reading books around his table. The former was utterly absorbed by his Experts Guide to Magical Pigments grimoire, while the latter occasionally raised her eyes away from her alchemy manual to anxiously check on the potion. While Liliane had offered to prepare the Elixir of True Sight for him, he had insisted on doing it himself. He wanted to learn alchemy, not watch someone else do it in his stead.

A week had passed since the summoner started working with Hermann. Iren had proved himself as good as his word, delivering the Derro tech pieces that Valdemar needed to complete his ecto-catcher. The device looked as good as new, with his grandfathers journal resting safely beneath a glass dome.

Unfortunately, Valdemar had noticed a terrible problem while preparing the ecto-catcher and he needed a portrait container to house his grandfathers ectoplasm more than ever.

Valdemar put his paintbrush away and disabled his alchemical boiler. The Elixir of True Sight had turned into a substance as black as oil, with a few magenta bubbles rising to the surface. I think its done, he said.Visit no(v)eLb(i)n.com for the best novel reading experience

Finally! Liliane snapped her manual shut. Its been four hours. I told you, you should have raised the temperature by two degrees.

I didnt want to risk botching the potion, Valdemar replied. The recipe said

The potions inventor didnt have the technology we have today and nobody updated the cookbook, Liliane interrupted him brazenly. Valdemar had noticed that while usually shy and kind, the young witch turned unusually assertive and passionate whenever alchemy was concerned. She clearly took pride in her expertise. Next time, Valdy, raise the temperature.

As you wish, Mistress Lily, Valdemar replied with a smirk, before putting on his gloves to manipulate the flask. He shook it slowly, watching the concoction take on a violet hue.

Lily?

Well, you do call me Valdy, he pointed out. That makes us even. Im still sore that you gave me one, but not Hermann.

This made Liliane giggle. How about Hermo?

Please do not Hermann pleaded, before looking up from his own book. Congratulations Valdemar.

For the potion, or the painting? the summoner asked.

Both. Hermann glanced at the newly painted portrait. Valdemar had painted his grandfather Pierre in the twilight of his years, sitting on the rocking chair he loved so much. The old man smiled at the onlooker, his blind white eyes and long beard making him look like the very picture of wisdom. Valdemar had given him a simple white shirt, breeches, and stacked-heel shoes. Its good. The colors are vivid enough and you blood-soaked the pigments.

Hermann had proven himself a good teacher, if slow due to his speech-impediment. The principle behind pictomancy was simple in theory: the painter mixed their blood with the paint, captured the essence of the target, and then established a metaphysical link between the portrait and what it represented.

In practice, it wasnt enough to capture the targets form. You had to capture their spirit too. Much like normal painting, one needed genuine artistic sensibility to become a pictomancer. Additionally, as a Blood-based sorcery, pictomancy could only affect dead or living beings. Inanimate objects like stone were beyond the magics grasp.

Hermann practiced on plants and animals because it was easier to capture the essence of simpler lifeforms than a human being. Besides encouraging Valdemar to paint a portrait of his grandfather for the sake of his experiment, the troglodyte asked him to practice on the local vampire bats as a trial run.

Are you sure I can capture the ectoplasm with that canvas? Valdemar asked, as he waited for his elixir to cool down. I dont want to botch the procedure. I cant botch it.

It should be fine, Hermann reassured. Ghosts and ectoplasms are easier to bind since since they arent anchored to a body. You also know your grandfather more than anyone and you share the same blood. Your portrait will be the perfect receptacle. It would have been harder if he had a body.

Wait, you can rip out someones soul with a portrait while theyre still alive? Liliane asked, horrified.

Yes and no, Hermann replied. Pictomancy can turn a portrait into a a soul trap. If the target dies the soul will move into the portrait regardless of the distance.

So like a soulstone? Liliane scratched her cheek. But what if the painted person has one? Or if theyre turned into an undead?

The pictomancers portrait trap and the soulstone will conflict to catch the soul. Its a a contest of magical strength between the creators of of both devices. Same if if the targets soul is transferred into a golem or an undead body. You cannot sever a soul from a living body with with pictomancy.

But you can still trap anybodys soul with none the wiser the moment they die. Liliane shuddered. Dont take it the wrong way, Hermo, but Im glad there arent more pictomancers running around.

The troglodyte cleared his throat. My name is not Hermo.

Great, I will call you Not-Hermo now, Liliane replied playfully. Hermann looked at her with an expressionless face for a moment, before giving up. So, Valdy, where do we start? Will you drink the potion now, or attempt your experiment?

She sounded quite eager to see both. Valdemar wondered if she intended to drink an Elixir of True Sight herself in the future, or if she had a ghost of her own to summon. The potion, he declared. I need more experience in pictomancy before I attempt to summon my grandfathers ectoplasm again. The experiment might fail otherwise.

Huh? Whys that? Liliane asked with a frown. Did Iren give you defective pieces?

No, no, my ecto-catcher is perfect. Valdemar clenched his fists in rage. Its the journal that the inquisitors damaged.

This confused Hermann. It it looks fine to me.

The text is fine, the psychic imprint is not, Valdemar explained. I was in the middle of coalescing my grandfathers ectoplasm when the Knights interrupted me. The process couldnt finish and exhausted some of the psychic energy that remained.

And... you think you cant... summon it again?

I think I can, but it may be damaged. Valdemar couldnt tell much until he actually attempted the spell, but he worried that another failure might destroy the ectoplasm outright. Thats why I want to have a perfect soul portrait in place to catch the psychic echo, as I fear it might dissipate otherwise.

Thats horrible, Liliane said with compassion. Is there anything we can do to help?

Not much, Im afraid. Its up to me to paint the best portrait.

Speaking of portraits, I Hermann said, before showing a page of his book to Valdemar. I have done research for the blue pigment for our project.

Our project? Valdemar couldnt help but smile as he read. The text described a rare plant called Colophryar; the exotic flower grew no more than five petals at once, each dyed with a vivid shade of blue. Though highly dangerous in its natural state, the plants toxins could be refined into a variety of things from sleeping drugs to pigments.

It grows only in the Domain of Astaphanos among its crystal ecosystems, Hermann explained. The flower is... a powerful magical reagent.

Oh, Astaphanos! Liliane smiled with enthusiasm. I was supposed to go there with Lady Mathilde and Frigga to collect rare ingredients. We could go there together!

I cant leave the Institute, remember? Valdemar pointed out, his friends expression deflating. Besides, couldnt Iren get us a sample?

He could, but Im not sure that they will be of the Hermann struggled a bit to find the right word. The quality that we require.

You could always ask Lord Och for authorization to go outside, Liliane suggested to Valdemar. He might grant your request.

It wasnt until he looked at the journal that Valdemar noticed something odd. He rose from his seat, slowly lifted the glass dome protecting the book, and examined the cover as his fellow scholars watched in puzzled silence.

A strange symbol had appeared on the previously featureless book, its lines glowing with a pale red glow. Two curves joined in the shape of an eye held within a sideway cube, with a line slashing the rune vertically. Valdemar didnt remember it, and yet it felt intimately familiar. Like a childhood treasure that he had never truly forgotten.

Valdemar flipped the journals pages, and quickly noticed new pictures among his grandfathers drawings. These additions were not visions of earthly wonders, but odd anatomical designs. A swirling mass of flesh trapped inside a circle; a rat with human hands and an almost human face; an eldritch, shadowy humanoid without a face, but eyes on the chest, hands, and shoulders.

The images were disturbing enough, but the last one bothered Valdemar the most. Something about the eerie humanoid silhouette contrasting with the inhuman exterior shook him to his core.

Did I see it before? Valdemar thought. He had the feeling he did, but couldnt remember. Hermann, do you see these pictures? he asked the troglodyte.

Which pictures? Hermann asked, confirming he couldnt see them. I have not taken an Elixir of Truth Sight.

But Lord Och did. Or if he hadnt drunk one while alive, he could still see the invisible. That bastard, Valdemar thought. He knew but didnt tell me. He wanted to see how much I knew about the journal.

So its working? Liliane grabbed Valdemars hand without warning to check his pulse, before applying her warm fingers to his neck. He sensed her using magic to analyze his body, but let her do her thing. Mmm, besides an abnormal current of blood flowing into your eyes, I dont sense anything wrong. Youre as resilient as a dragon, Valdy.

I do see things I didnt notice before, but honestly its nothing worth going mad over, Valdemar replied. And my heartbeat is killing me.

Huh? she asked while removing her hands. Your pulse is fine. Its even slower than usual.

Valdemar closed his eyes, and to his surprise Liliane was right. His psychic sight didnt detect anything abnormal about his heart.

But then, where did the sound in his head come from? He focused, trying to locate it

Its Valdemars eyes snapped open. Its everywhere?

Valdemar could hear the heartbeat coming from below, echoing through the ground like some twisted symphony. He put his grandfathers journal aside to touch the nearest wall, sensing the imperceptible vibrations going through them.

You cant see them, Lord Och had warned him. But they can see you.

Valdemar Hermann cleared his throat. You should wait a

Possessed by a feverish urge to clear his doubts, Valdemar rushed to the door. Hermann immediately rose from his seat to stop him, perhaps thinking he would make a mistake. But though he quickly caught Valdemar by the shoulders, the necromancer still kicked his door open.

An eye looked back at him from the other side.

Valdemar was so shocked that he didnt even struggle against Hermanns grip. He simply gazed at the eye, at the yellow iris and the fleshy redness around it. The organ protruded from the stone wall on the other side of the floor, right above another workshops door. It was large enough to have belonged to a giant, and it was gazing back at Valdemar with an unblinking focus

Theres one above my door, Valdemar realized, as he noticed a shadow above his threshold. Only then did he notice the veins in the ground beyond his threshold. Not a mere line of red as his Potion of Insight showed him, but a black vein pumping invisible blood through the floor.

Hermann and Liliane were saying things, but he couldnt hear them over the slow, thunderous heartbeat. The troglodyte suddenly released his grip over the necromancer, and the world felt all the colder for it. Valdemar took a step forward without looking back, unable to resist the vile fascination possessing him.

He walked beyond the threshold, and saw.

There were eyes everywhere.

There was one above each door, in the ceiling, in the corners; some as small as human ones, others larger than his workshop. They were yellow and blue, and red, and violet, and colors he had never seen before; all fleshy mounds linked together by invisible veins coursing through the tunnel.

They were all looking at him with unblinking stares.

Valdemar struggled to breathe, his fingers shaking. He tried to escape the eyes by looking at the clock echoing in tune with the heartbeat below, but it offered him no comfort. Something else floated in front of the device, a burning, fleshy orb of light sitting atop a tentacled body with black bat wings. The creature blinked at Valdemar, before phasing through the clock as if it was made of water and vanishing.

Fascinating, isnt it? Lord Ochs voice echoed at his students side, sounding as amused as an undead could be. And you havent even seen the first floor.

Valdemar turned his head to face his mentor, but he had dropped the old man disguise. The lich beneath the illusion had revealed himself, his ancient bones wreathed in a shroud of cold blue mist and tattered robes. Hermann and Liliane stood behind the Dark Lord, though they were clearly more worried for Valdemars safety than anything else.

Lord Och? Valdemar asked, his throat sore. The heartbeat around him had become background noise, easy to ignore but the eyes gaze remained unbearable. Youre not using your glamour?

You pierced the veil, my apprentice. You see me as I am, and the world as it is.

After a moment of hesitation, Hermann found the courage to interrupt the lich. Lord Och, if I may he should rest.

What he should do is my concern alone, Hermann, the lich replied dismissively. Your concerns are unwarranted. My apprentice has no wish to throw himself out a window.

The Dark Lord gazed at Valdemar.

Will you?

Valdemar glanced at the eyes, at the dreadful implications behind their existence... they had always been there, watching him.

And now that the potion had opened his mind, he would see them forever.

Valdemar would never escape their gaze. He would hear the heartbeat beneath his feet, always wonder if a creature was waiting to pass through a wall to ambush him.

His fingers shook, his throat felt sore. If a tunnel looked like this how did the rest of the world? What things outside the Institutes walls had caused so many to go mad after taking that Elixir?

And the implications the heartbeat, the force coming from below, the eyes in the walls...

Valdemar wasnt one to flinch away from the truth, but for the first time in many years, he asked a question whose answer he dreaded.

This place, Valdemar said, gazing back at the eyes. Is it is it alive?

My fortress?

Lord Ochs teeth transformed into a ghastly smile.

Or the world?