The Outer Sphere - Chapter 177

***Tad Williams***

Tad groaned and pushed himself out of bed, mindful not to put his weight on the nice girls who’d followed him home from the pits. He stumbled onto the wooden floor of his bedroom and yawned, stretching as he tugged on his discarded clothes.

Cross that off the bucket list, I guess. Tad had spent less time hunting recently and had instead begun to focus on learning silk processing from the lest combat-prone members of the family. He was already sure he could make a better product once he applied chemicals in addition to heat and stretching.

Beautiful day outside, a bit late in the afternoon, but- Tad’s inner monologue froze when he saw the gilded horse outside his family’s mansion.

Crap, crap, crap! Tad thought, hastily shrugging out of his stained clothes and waking up Tara and Ela.

“C’mon, wake up you two, It’s important!” he said, jostling them.

“Mmmwhat?” Ela groaned as she opened her eyes and rolled over, exposing her creamy thighs and soft breasts from beneath the covers. The sight got Tad’s heart beating like crazy.

“There’s an inquisitor outside!” Tad said, causing Tara to sit up in alarm, blinking the gum out of her eyes. “We’ve only got enough time for one more round!”

****Gloria Pendleton, The Brainwashed Headmaster.****

Face it, he’s never coming back.

Gloria stared at her desk, where she’d drawn Edward’s face. She hadn’t seen or heard anything from the boy in over a month, after he suddenly, inexplicably withdrew himself from the academy.

I wish I knew where he went, then I could have followed him. Gloria thought, her heart sinking in her chest even as the thought of the boy lit a fire between her legs.

Sometimes in her fantasies, she crawled into his room while she was asleep, and when he opened his eyes, he would use her until she had nothing left to give. It felt so good to be used by him… Then the two of them would run away and live like animals in heat in the forest.

It’s a viable plan, She thought. As nobles, our bodies are tough enough to survive apart from civilization. I just need to be more important to him than everything else. I need to make him happier than anything else.

What if he gets bored of me after a while? Perhaps I should bring backup…Spread his attention out…some of the other teachers…enough so that he never has to leave…he could tell us what to do. I love it when he tells me what to do. It always feels so good! Just the sound of his voice makes me drool…

Gloria bit her thumb while her left hand wandered down between her legs.

“Headmaster!” her number two said as she barged into Gloria’s office.

Gloria yelped, jumping in her seat.

“What!” she gave a strangled squawk then adjusted her tone back to Headmaster. “What is it?”

“There’s an inquisitor here to ask about Edward?”

“Is he hurt? did he get kidnapped? Is that why we haven’t heard from him? Does he still like me? is he okay? Where is he?” Gloria blurted the questions out before her brain could process them.

Her second frowned and glanced to the side. “I think…he wants to ask you questions?” she said.

“Right. Send him in.”

A short time later, the Inquisitor entered. He held his helmet at his side, revealing an affable face in its late forties. The man sported a large beard streaked with grey and had a jolly gleam in his eye as he greeted Gloria.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Pendleton. I’m Stephen,” He said, grinning as he shook her hand. He sat down in the leather-upholstered chair across from hers, setting his helmet down beside her paperwork.

“So sorry I didn’t meet you in person, Inquisitor, I hope you’re not offended.”

“Pfft. I rather dislike having my hand held.” He waved dismissively with a smile.

“How can I help you?” Gloria asked. I hope Edward isn’t in any kind of trouble. If they ask about him, what should I say? Gloria felt panic begin to grow inside her like a sprouting tree. She had to make sure Edward was all right.

“I’d like to ask you about the attack on your students a couple months ago, where several hundred farmers got it in their heads to attack the nobility out of nowhere.”

Gloria breathed an internal sigh of relief.

Stephen’s eyebrow twitched.

“That was orchestrated by a rather deranged individual named Luke Evans, a former student here. He’s since been executed by his family.”

“Are any of the peasants involved in the attack still alive?”

“No, sir.”

“Shame.” Stephen studied her with the slightest smirk, bringing his thumb up to his chin and scratching under his beard.

“I couldn’t help but notice you seemed relieved when I brought up the attack. Was there something else troubling you?”

Gloria hesitated, unsure whether or not it was a good idea to talk about Edward. She could tell him everything about Edward, and hope the man passed over the information as worthless, or she could lie for her love, and possibly incite the man’s curiosity into what was so important she had decided to conceal it from him.

It was a horrible choice to make, but something inside her whispered that the information she had about Edward wasn’t the sort that an Inquisitor would overlook.

She really only had one choice.

“I was concerned that one of my students or faculty might be involved with something I was unaware of. I was relieved that the matter was one that had been already resolved.” Gloria lied smoothly.

Fifteen years climbing the ladder at the Academy weren’t for nothing.

“I see,” Stephen pursed his lips and furrowed his brows, playing with the sheets of paper on her desk before meeting her eyes again.

“Are you aware of the punishment for lying to an Inquisitor?” he asked. All trace of levity faded from his dead eyes.

Gloria swallowed her heart that was trying to work its way up her throat.

“Of course.”

“Then you won’t mind reporting yourself to our temporary headquarters for a more thorough debriefing.”

“I’d be happy to,” Gloria said, controlling the tremor spreading through her hands as he watched her, his fingers tapping idly on the desk.

“…Right. Now, I’ve already asked Justine to grab the files from the last six months, the only burning question I have left is…where did the idea for your little field trips come from? Why was the entire senior class traipsing around the woods for no discernable reason?”

The man’s questions continued for some time, asking about the field trips, and the recent crime wave. He asked about her students and faculty, asking if any of them had behaved oddly recently. Gloria gave him as much truth as she could while deflecting away from Edward anywhere she could manage.

Finally, when her nerves were almost completely frayed, it came to an end.

“Well, that’ll be enough for now. If you wouldn’t mind reporting to the police precinct for a more thorough debrief…say on your weekend? It’s not urgent enough to inconvenience your work.”

Two days away.

“I’m grateful,” Gloria said, hoping the man didn’t feel the sweat on her palm as she shook his hand.

“ma’am.” He said, nodding his head and picking up his helmet before marching out.

***Stephen***

That woman’s hiding something, Stephen thought as he walked down the marble steps of the academy. He’d narrowed it down to one of the students. That was where she got defensive. And what he felt when he approached the subject? An unnatural amount of panic and intense longing.

It felt like she might have quite a few constructs rattling around in her head. I’ll request the captain take a look at her when she arrives in the precinct this weekend.

If she doesn’t try to make a break for it before then.

Stephen had leaned on her until the discomfort and fear radiating off the woman was palpable, then he gave her a narrow window to escape.

If she was going to run, it might lead him straight to this lover of hers that seemed to take up most of the woman’s thoughts.

Stephen stopped outside the academy and motioned one of the legionnaires in his Vigintum to approach.

“Sir?”

“Change into plainclothes. I want you secretly follow the headmaster of the academy over the next two days. If she tries to run, activate your tracker and follow her as far as you can.”

“Understood.” The legionnaire saluted and ran off to get changed.

***Garth***

“Technically there is precedent, but finding a court of appeals high enough that isn’t afraid of the Dan Ui clan is rather difficult.” Chi’tet said.

“Mhmm,” Garth said, flipping to the next page in the notebook.

Chapter 4: Getting past the hump.

Now that you’ve made contact with your soul, it’s time to give it a good workout.

Most people think of it as soul-delving, or heartstone shaping, Etc. I propose that it’s not like that at all. Most people don’t really assign a form to their soul, and if they do, typically it’s the same as their body.

This is totally wrong. I’ve worn so many bodies by now that I know for a fact the two aren’t related.

Some people think they have to dive deep to the center of their soul to find the truth of their being to unlock their potential and advance to the fourth tier. Others think they have to focus on the engraving of their heartstone.

I like to think of it more like…soul yoga.

Bear with me.

The shape of your soul reflects the shape of your heartstone. After a certain age, the heartstone becomes spherical. Not because your soul is, but because your soul has wobbled and jostled around so much that the heartstone becomes round. Maybe a little lumpy.

The art of training your soul to control itself and thereby shape your heartstone into a deliberately engineered piece of architecture is easy to learn, and difficult to master.

First, you-

“Are you listening?” she asked, prying Garth’s attention away from the priceless knowledge. It had been so intriguing he’d blown all the way through the chapter describing how to break through tier three.

“Huh? No.” he said, briefly glancing up before his eyes began drifting back towards the notebook.

“You might be able to use your memories as evidence if they’ve already been admitted as evidence in another case, but the Dan Ui can easily move to dismiss your claim, since you haven’t actually been on Earth this whole time. It creates a glaring flaw in your plan.

“It’s not a flaw, it’s a red herring,” Garth said, flipping back a couple pages to the beginning of chapter 3.

“What sound does that symbol make?” Caitlyn asked, pointing at a squiggly line with the back of her pen.

“N’ua,” Garth said idly as the redheaded girl took notes. He wasn’t going to teach her ancient elvish, but if she wanted to decode what he was reading…Initiative like that took people far.

“Well, what is your plan? If you told me, I could tell you whether or not it has any chance of working. The law is a lot more complicated than you might think.” Chi’tet said.

“I realize that, but I’d rather play this one close to the vest. There’s plenty of people out there who can dick with people’s minds, so I can barely trust a secret to stay safe in my own head, thanks to Pala’s Blessing.”

“I refuse to believe You’re an Apostle of Pala.”

“Would an apostle of Pala seem like one?” Garth asked. “Food for thought.”

Garth started rereading chapter three.

Chapter 3: So you want to start touching yourself.

Tier three has been described by many as the first major bottleneck that filters the wheat from the chaff, the idioms from the idiots. All that is necessary to reach tier two is doing something really stupid while a god is watching.

They have low standards.

To reach tier three, you must touch your soul.

‘How the fuck do I do that?’ you ask. ‘I’m already touching it. It’s literally inside me right now.’

Well, the plain and simple answer boils down to two options.

Within these pages lie the hallowed techniques and exercises that will allow you to reach the enlightenment you seek…

…

But if that’s not fast enough for you, I’ve written the sphere’s Address of the planet that has Hildaven in the footnotes. It’s the plant that you need to ingest to go on your very own ayahuasca trip of self-discovery, booiii!

P.S. if you have a temper, it’d probably be for the best if you don’t go on your trip near anyone…mortal. Ditto if you’re a lech, although the context there is a bit more…fluid.

Otherwise, it’s great for parties and fun for all ages!

And don’t try your Design Plant nonsense to try to dodge the issue. These drugs have a deep-seated cultural significance. I.E. they’re actually being powered up by the collective psychic energy of the planet’s natives, not the drugs themselves.

You could try actual ayahuasca, but I wouldn’t bank on it. it’s kind of like trying to view your soul through a kaliedascope. Fun, although all the spirits trying to talk to/nibble on you while you’re high is kind of a bummer.

Why is it always drugs? Garth thought, checking the footnote. That’s a hell of a long way away. Can’t leave until the Inquisitor Problem is taken care of, so for now I’ll stick to meditation.

Macronomicon

10/20 of the Bust. Halfway there. Bummer. On a side note, I’m starting to feel old. Like, that Stephen Fry anecdote where his or some other guy’s Grandmother says, ‘dear lord it can’t be breakfast again already.’

I’ll spare you a Patreon Plug today. Shit, I just did it.