Chapter 980: Dallion's Strings
MEMORY FRAGMENT
Present day, present time…
Another message arrived.
Keep listening to my Spotify. I’ll come to you.Ch𝒆êck out l𝒂t𝒆st 𝒏𝒐v𝒆l𝒔 on n/o/v𝒆/l/bin(.)c/𝒐/m
Dallion looked at his computer. The memory was of a few months ago—the precise day that Atol had responded to his mail. The chances of finding her were one in thousands. He had definitely lucked out.
Something wasn’t quite right, though. The letters in the message looked different from what he remembered. It was almost as if several of them were vibrating.
Dallion closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. The letters were still vibrating when he opened them again. It wasn’t random, either, but a series of rhythmic patterns, almost as if they were trying to create a sound. No, they were creating a sound, just not one that anyone could hear with ears. Waves were waves after all.
A sharp pain pierced Dallion’s elbow, as if a lightning bolt had pierced his arm.
“Damnit!” he jumped back.Get used to it! a female voice said. It sounded sort of familiar, but Dallion couldn’t place it right now.
That was strange. Back when he had received the message Dallion wasn’t able to talk to guardians. Thinking about it, he had lost all of his awakened powers. Was he misremembering? Or maybe the memory had merged with the skills he currently possessed. Magic was the trait of exceptions, after all, even the magic of Earth.
“Who are you?” Dallion asked, but no answer came.
The pain in his elbow quickly faded, which was nice. It remained unclear what had caused it, though. One thing he was sure of was that it resembled the experience that had sent him to the medical center not long ago.
Wake up, he told himself, but the memory refused to disappear, keeping him in his dorm room.
Without thinking, Dallion went back to the sequence of events that had occurred before. Opening Spotify, he found Atol’s songs and started listening. There were plenty of music strands within the recordings, but nothing Dallion felt threatened by. After Dallion’s conversation with his roommate, the new song finally appeared. The name of the single was Within the Seventh Sphere—potentially something connected with the seven Moons, though by no means definite. Immediately, Dallion started listening.
Unlike all the previous songs, this one had no lyrics, just a three-minute instrumental. That didn’t stop it from having a bouquet of emotions tied in. On the surface, the usual joy and cheer were present, yet hidden underneath were more sinister threads. Dallion could clearly recognize depression, fear, and sadness, along with two strands of overconfidence.
You’re trying to fight me? He wondered. The effects weren’t strong. Anyone capable of noticing them would clearly ignore them without any effort on his own. Nonetheless, Dallion chose to hum a tune to counter the threads. To his surprise, the attempt failed.
Huh? He thought. That’s not how it happened. Dallion was certain that he had countered all the threads. And yet, he could see the obvious. Thin strands of sound connected to him, giving him a sense of accomplishment. That wasn’t all. He could see a thread of hope within the bouquet as well. As the instrumental continued, it urged Dallion to think of Atol as his friend—someone just like him, who’d no doubt be of significant help.
The memory froze.
No, Dallion thought. He still couldn’t accept it, even if the proof was right there in front of his eyes. All this time, he considered himself lucky, convincing Atol to stick around and help him achieve his impossible goal. The truth was that she had convinced him of it. Thinking back, he wouldn’t be surprised if she had set her net with her first reply. It was ever so subtle, just like something Dallion’s great-grandmother would do; sound hidden in letters, subtly nudging him to listen to the songs, which nudged him even more.
“Red Atol?” Dallion asked. He was in the parking lot now, looking at the woman in her muscle car.
She nodded.
“Red Moon, red card—muscle car,” Dallion said.
“Just a car I got.” She tried using music again, and Dallion snapped his fingers, but the strands remained intact, providing him a new boost of dopamine on contact. A false sense of confidence surrounded Dallion, making him feel as if he were in control.
“How did you find me?” he asked.
“Your patreon account. I asked a few people for a few favors. I can be very convincing.”
“I bet.” Even at this level, music skills were capable of convincing anyone of anything. They wouldn’t work on another former awakened, but Earth was full of non-awakened with no ability to resist. “Thanks for coming. I didn’t think—”
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The woman raised a finger.
“Let’s go somewhere first.”
The somewhere turned out to be nowhere in particular. There didn’t seem to be any plan to it. The woman only wanted to be in a place away from buildings and other people. After she found a spot that met the criteria, she pulled up to the side of the road and stopped the car.
Dallion used the map on his laptop to check his current location, then closed it again.
“So, you’re really from there?” The woman turned to him.
“Yep. Part of the Tamin Empire.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell.”
Of course it wouldn’t. Dallion was incapable of seeing it at the time, but he did now. Atol had no memory of the other world. Everything she said was in reaction to him, and what wasn’t was someone else’s story. It had to be real, complete with the emotions that came as she spoke, but those two were rehearsed. The real memory’s owner was elsewhere. The one who had come to Dallion was one of the people Alien was so terrified of—the group of awakened that controlled the world.
No wonder she managed to get everything so fast. It wasn’t just a matter of using music skills to convince someone. That also was a part—one substantial enough to fool Dallion into believing, that was all. It was no coincidence that he had found her—her purpose was to be found, then stay close to awakened that had their memories intact.
Now her initial question made a lot more sense. “Mage or domain ruler” That was the first thing she had asked. The sad truth was that she was assessing him.
Why did I ever think that an awakened would drop everything and get a job at my college just to help? Dallion wondered.
Dallion hadn’t offered anything of the sort, and he had believed Atol’s story. If there had been something specific he could help out with, he’d definitely have done so. He’d definitely assist online, and possibly even go to visit once or twice per semester, but he’d never put his life and his own goals on hold.
You really got me good, didn’t you? Dallion thought.
It had been more than convenient for her to have a lead, one that convinced Dallion to ignore the one he himself had. In his defense, going to Alien proved to be just as welcoming as he had imagined.
Now that he looked at the whole Architect incident, he understood the violent reaction he’d received. The deputy marshal and his wife knew exactly what was going on. It was natural that they would aim to kill. Everything was all a show of force between both parties. The awakened organization, whatever it was called, had made it clear they could reach him. On his part, the Architect had illustrated that they didn’t have what it took to defeat him. That’s why he had made a point that he wanted to remain isolated from everyone else; a sort of “don’t mess with me and I won’t mess with you” deal. Dallion had completely missed it.
The memory shifted, bringing him to the gas station Atol had stopped in on the way to Centennial. That, too, had been planned. The people who the woman worked for knew about the protective perimeter Alien had put up. Dallion had been used to set it off.
A town full of echo zombies and you never got in trouble… Dallion shook his head. Strength had made him sloppy. Relying on his restored skills and abilities, he had let himself be used. His latest actions had rendered Alien completely defenseless. With his illusion defenses down, even a low level awakened could handle him. No doubt that’s what was in the cards. Atol likely wouldn’t risk using music skills on Dallion now that he had regained the ability, but there were other ways.
There could be awakened among the technicians of the electric company, the police that would arrive at the site, or any number of bureaucrats gone there to “oversee” matters. They were going to oversee things alright, but not the things they claimed they would.
The world was a very different place for the awakened. An organization had crept up, subtly controlling all matters that interested them. Dallion had observed the same in the world of furies. There, the soft power was a library, but they too acted in the exact same fashion. It was stupid to think that it would be different in any of the other worlds.
You’re good, Dallion thought. You’re really, really good.
If he wasn’t fortunate enough to be an architect, he’d have already lost. No one could have foreseen that Felygn would allow him to keep his empathy skills. They wouldn’t have imagined he’d have the ability to relearn skills so quickly, either.
“Hold on.” Atol approached in the memory, tossing him a can of soda. “Aren’t you curious what happened in there?”
Dallion frowned.
“I’m not in the mood—”
“When I tried to convince him to have the gum for free, a lamp next to him flickered. The man quickly grabbed his phone and dialed a single number. I’ve never seen so much fear emanating from anyone. When I used my music skills to calm him down, the lamp exploded.”
There could be no doubt that a lot more had happened. Dallion didn’t care, though. There was one thing he needed to check and for that, he didn’t need to step inside. Instead, Dallion smashed the cheap glowing sign at the door and reached in to grab the electric current.
“Got you,” Dallion whispered. The current felt solid, though slippery. Quickly he pulled it, drawing the symbols of a two-circle spell in the air.
DALLION DARUDE
TRAITS:
AWAKENING
BODY
MIND
REACTION
PERCEPTION
EMPATHY
MAGIC
SKILLS
GUARD
ATTACK
ATHLETICS
ACROBATICS
SCHOLAR
MUSIC
SPELLCRAFT
A purple rectangle emerged in front of him, ending the memory fragment.
Once again, Dallion was back in Alien’s realm. The rectangle, though, had come with him.
Two skills? He wondered.
He had no idea what had caused him to re-learn his scholar skills. Possibly there was a link between spellcraft and that? Either way, it was only to his benefit. The important thing was that he had finally learned magic. It seemed that his pain theory was correct. That posted questions about how he’d learn the crafting skills. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to be hit with a frying pan to get an understanding of metals.
“Look at that.” Allien approached. “You survived.” He looked at the purple rectangle, then back at Dallion. “I hate you.”
“I know.” Dallion stood up. He didn’t feel any pain, nor did he feel unwell, either. Lux must have worked on overdrive, for he felt perfectly fit. Just to make sure, Dallion cast another two-circle spell.
His health was full.
“All traits and six fucking skills,” Alien grumbled.
“How many do you have?” Dallion couldn’t help but feel curious.
“Three,” the mage grumbled. Blobs of envy formed within him, yet he was telling the truth.
“Well, I’m afraid you’ll hate me even more in a bit,” Dallion said with a stern expression.
“What else? You brought a dragon?” Alien smirked.
“The organization of amnesia awakened you told me about… I’ve led them straight here.”