"Can I see your book?" Sure--I mean NO
I've learned this week, painfully through the experiences of others, that the Book of Obsidia is not for everyone. On the one hand, this confirms my suspicion that I was saught out by the Book itself; on the other, those whom the Book has not chosen...there has been a few side-effects, leading me to the conclusion that I should at least keep the Book safe from others, namely those I care about.
The first incident occured after another all-night-marathon-study-session of the Book. I had been attempting to decipher one particularly intriguing passage about the enemies of Obsidia and a celestial event, and before I knew it, Helios was already racing across the sky. It's bizarre, the Book, it tantalizes me with clues, especially dealing with the questions that need answering (like the problem of doppelganger consciousness); it trails me along, hinting that the answer is lying between the words, but always just beyond my reach. So by midday, I found myself exhausted. It was in that state that I visited a friend, Orchid, at her shop. A lot of people have suggested that I take better care of myself, eating more, combing my hair...et cetera, et cetera, and Orchid was no different. I know I must have looked particularly wild-eyed that afternoon when I came to her so I can't blame her.
The question I asked for her reading was actually more specific: Will I succeed in giving my doppelganger its own soul. And it suprised me that even with the specificity of the question, I got a straight answer: Yes What was also different this time was that Orchid asked to handle the Book. At the time, I didn't see any harm. I trust her, and if she wanted to see, who was I to stop her.
I didn't hear until the next day that Orchid had lost her 6th sense. For someone whose livelyhood is based on this ability, I can't imagine the loss. My father took me to Delphi when I was a boy. I remember that the current oracle had fallen out of favor with Apollo, and she basically lost her mind along with the abilities; when we saw her she had taken to pulling her hair out, one strand at a time.
Whether or not the Book of Obsidia had anything to do with it, I can't say. But the temporality of it seems suspect.
The second incident was more instantaneus. I bumbed into Nadia again in Ithaca and she too asked to see the Book. She hadn't even gotten to the first page when, well, it burned her. Not too badly, I believe, but it's hard to tell with Mistress's of Hell.
Since then, I've decided to keep the Book away from others. It'll be safer that way until I get this figured out.
But if the Book does have adverse effects on people other than myself or those in the Order, I wouldn't mind using it against those bloody Alliance members. After my victory over Meue, I've watched my back like a man obsessed. I find myself jumping at shadows and loud noises, studying the faces of strangers, thinking that each begger, or spice merchant, or lawyer, might slip a knife between my ribs. The constant vigilance is wearing on me as much as my research is; I'm so sick of the acrid aftertase of marigold potions that I nearly wretched yesterday at the mere sight of the Lotus Isle. But even as careful as I was, I still walked into an ambush. It was one of the closest calls I've ever had. Meue had, apparently, formed an alliance with Blackmojo and Krista, and together they caught me off the coast of England. Someone must be looking out for me because at the very last instant, Meue's infernal gun jammed, allowing me to sceedadle on out of there by the skin of my teeth.
A few days later, I wasn't so lucky with another Alliance member, Fornelli. If there's one thing that I'll remember about that fight was the forced dancing; not the fun kind where there are pretty ladies to flirt with, but the manic solo kind of dancing that you do in front of the mirror when you think no one is watching. But this time, Fornelli was watching, and swiftly kicking my ass. I'll have to think about how to deal with that one a bit more.
The first incident occured after another all-night-marathon-study-session of the Book. I had been attempting to decipher one particularly intriguing passage about the enemies of Obsidia and a celestial event, and before I knew it, Helios was already racing across the sky. It's bizarre, the Book, it tantalizes me with clues, especially dealing with the questions that need answering (like the problem of doppelganger consciousness); it trails me along, hinting that the answer is lying between the words, but always just beyond my reach. So by midday, I found myself exhausted. It was in that state that I visited a friend, Orchid, at her shop. A lot of people have suggested that I take better care of myself, eating more, combing my hair...et cetera, et cetera, and Orchid was no different. I know I must have looked particularly wild-eyed that afternoon when I came to her so I can't blame her.
The question I asked for her reading was actually more specific: Will I succeed in giving my doppelganger its own soul. And it suprised me that even with the specificity of the question, I got a straight answer: Yes What was also different this time was that Orchid asked to handle the Book. At the time, I didn't see any harm. I trust her, and if she wanted to see, who was I to stop her.
I didn't hear until the next day that Orchid had lost her 6th sense. For someone whose livelyhood is based on this ability, I can't imagine the loss. My father took me to Delphi when I was a boy. I remember that the current oracle had fallen out of favor with Apollo, and she basically lost her mind along with the abilities; when we saw her she had taken to pulling her hair out, one strand at a time.
Whether or not the Book of Obsidia had anything to do with it, I can't say. But the temporality of it seems suspect.
The second incident was more instantaneus. I bumbed into Nadia again in Ithaca and she too asked to see the Book. She hadn't even gotten to the first page when, well, it burned her. Not too badly, I believe, but it's hard to tell with Mistress's of Hell.
Since then, I've decided to keep the Book away from others. It'll be safer that way until I get this figured out.
But if the Book does have adverse effects on people other than myself or those in the Order, I wouldn't mind using it against those bloody Alliance members. After my victory over Meue, I've watched my back like a man obsessed. I find myself jumping at shadows and loud noises, studying the faces of strangers, thinking that each begger, or spice merchant, or lawyer, might slip a knife between my ribs. The constant vigilance is wearing on me as much as my research is; I'm so sick of the acrid aftertase of marigold potions that I nearly wretched yesterday at the mere sight of the Lotus Isle. But even as careful as I was, I still walked into an ambush. It was one of the closest calls I've ever had. Meue had, apparently, formed an alliance with Blackmojo and Krista, and together they caught me off the coast of England. Someone must be looking out for me because at the very last instant, Meue's infernal gun jammed, allowing me to sceedadle on out of there by the skin of my teeth.
A few days later, I wasn't so lucky with another Alliance member, Fornelli. If there's one thing that I'll remember about that fight was the forced dancing; not the fun kind where there are pretty ladies to flirt with, but the manic solo kind of dancing that you do in front of the mirror when you think no one is watching. But this time, Fornelli was watching, and swiftly kicking my ass. I'll have to think about how to deal with that one a bit more.
