I can’t let you continue with this line of thought, Laurence. My entire existence is dependent on you not understanding that. The shadow was odd. There was no sound coming from the shadow itself, but Laurence could instinctively tell that the voice he was hearing was without a doubt the one of the shadow in front of him. It took Laurence by surprise, as through the entire time that he had grown up with the voice he had never once seen the form that it held in reality. Putting a face to a voice, no matter how indistinct the face actually was, was a relief to the boy.
“Why? Why does it matter to you?” He could feel his rage building up, but this time there was no darkness that swelled beneath his skin. It was pure anger at the disturbance of something more, something he could feel would have got him out of the situation that he was in and pushed him beyond what he was by a long way. It was a step towards ascension that had been snatched from him, and now all Laurence could feel was the white hot rage that came with it.
You were too close. The shadow replied. I cannot have anything you do threatening my existence, and you were about to do that.
“Before, I never had an issue with what you were doing. I knew you existed, I could feel you within me when I raged, but now I care. Now I have a reason to want you gone,” Laurence growled. It was rare for him to get as angry as he felt right now, but the anger he felt was far purer than he had ever experienced before. “I want you gone from me. You were useful when you helped me, but now you’ve hindered me in a way that you can never make up for”. He slowly brought up his hammer, pointing at the ghostly apparition before him. “I. WANT. YOU. GONE”. Screaming, he swung Jormugand at the shadow and split it into pieces, only to watch it form again further in front of him.
Childish. You have such potential, Laurence, why don’t you let me guide you into being a worthy vessel for me. The voice was insidious, sweet, oh so tempting, but Laurence ignored it. He did not want to return to that dark state where he had no control and the shadow ruled him, lusting for nothing but blood. He swung the hammer out, and with a flick of his wrist the hammer began spinning in his hand. Like a spinning top, the hammer swerved and pulled Laurence in odd, twisting shapes before slamming against the shadow. Rather than shattering like before, however, the creature seemed to be caught by the blow and became trapped in the spiral.
A stream of mana seemed to pass through Laurence, from the aether, through his reservoir and out of his hand into the hammer. A guttural sound seemed to push up his throat and as the mana reached the tip of the hammer he yelled out “GAMALIEL” before feeling his muscles in his arm bulge. A tornado seemed to spring out of his movement and began pulling the shadow apart before slamming the shattered pieces into the ceiling with unprecedented force. The bits of shadow slammed against the ceiling and spread out like paste, connecting together and reforming into a much squashed version of the original creature. It slowly slipped out of the tornado that locked it against the wall and finally pulled itself back to its original size behind Laurence. You forced me to do this, the shadow said before springing at Laurence with its own hammer.
Laurence turned, and as he twisted round to face the enemy before him, he screamed out “YESOD!” More mana was pulled in from the surroundings, through Laurence then out of the hammer and back into the aether. The shadow’s hammer seemed to suck towards Laurence in a way that was obviously opposed to its original intent and as it closed in on the boy, he smirked, using his enemy’s weapon to line up his strike, he slammed the handle of his hammer straight through the shadow’s solar plexus. It forced its way through the immaterial beast before making the creature explode.
Once more the creature disappeared and reformed behind Laurence. This is pointless, Laurence. You cannot kill me.
“Why did you fight back then? Why do you keep shattering?” Laurence smirked. His rage was still there, it was always there, but since the creature had formed itself outside his body he began to realise that the shadow before him was whatever made him berserk when he raged. It had been with him for a long time, perhaps as long as he had climbed the tower, but he had no way of knowing how long it had been with him. “Oh, and why haven’t you realised that I’m using you to train? Hod”.
As Laurence spoke, more mana was drawn in from the room around him, through his body as a conduit and then back out into the world as a translucent shield. The shadow hammer in the hand of the entity seemed to split apart and strike against the shield multiple times before returning back to a single object. The shield vibrated, but stood strong against the short barrage. Again and again the hammer landed against Laurence’s shield, but it did not break. The movement of his hammer behind the shield would just force the power behind the blows away from him, redirecting them into the walls, floor and ceiling around him. After minutes of the strikes, the shadowy figure stopped and pulled back. The shield was still strong, but the surroundings were covered in thin battle scars.
This is pointless! Why do you resist me, Laurence? I’m doing this for your own good! You don’t know how to use your own strength! I do. Just let me show you. Laurence smiled at the shadow and slowed his hammer down, slowly letting the shield dissipate into nothingness. Once more, he pointed the hammer before him and relaxed. This fighting had focused him in a way that was similar to his moment of enlightenment, but in an entirely different direction. He was creating and improving his forms within his martial style, but with each improvement he found that he was moving closer to something other than Creation.
“Come on. If you want to take control of me so much, you should try to actually take me. You’re talking a lot, but you’re saying very little”. He took three steps back and felt the mana in the air churn once more. “Netzach”. Flickering figures began appearing behind Laurence as he began moving. Afterimages slid around each of the figures as they swapped places, and soon enough there was nothing differentiating any of the blurry figures from one another. The shadow dove forwards immediately and pushed through three illusory figures while reaching a single figure in the middle. As it touched the skin, the figure’s mouth opened and quietly, like a sneeze, the word “Tiphereth” came out of his mouth.
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