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Sam closed his eyes and opened them, leaving the field of candy and returning to his room where the blue avian was waiting for him. Its facial expression hadn’t changed, making Sam wonder whether or not its face could even express any emotions. “The master of the Anunaki is coming,” Sam said. “It’ll be here in a bit.”
“Excellent,” the blue avian said. “You’ve made the right choice.”
Sam blinked and stared at the blue avian. Was it rude to stare? He wasn’t sure, but the blue avian seemed nice enough; well, it wasn’t exactly nice, more like it was too lazy to hurt him. “So,” Sam said. “Do you have a name?”
“Paula,” the blue avian said.
“Oh,” Sam said. “That sounds surprisingly human.”
“That’s no wonder,” the blue avian said. “Although our species prefers staying in one place, occasionally, every few hundred years or so, someone will have the urge—out of boredom—to send their soul on a journey of experience, one where they reincarnate into whatever species their soul touches. A few blue avians might’ve visited your race in the past, and after they died, their souls would’ve returned to their true bodies. Then, since we love sharing our experiences with one another, everyone would hear all the details about the life they lived as a human, and some of us would pick names we’d like and have each other address us as such. I like the name Paul, but I also like koalas terribly so, so I picked the name Paula.”
Sam stared at the blue avian. Earlier, he suspected Paula was a chatterbox because the blue avian was giving him so much information for free, but now, he was sure. “What is it about koalas that you like?” Sam asked. If he could distract her with questions, he’d buy enough time for Birdbrained and Raindu to fully prepare.
Paula stared at Sam with their orange eyes. “Their taste.”
Sam flinched. “Oh,” he said. “Their taste, huh? I see. So, uh, fried or roasted?”
Paula stared at Sam for a second before scrunching up her beak as if she had heard something vile. “I would never eat them, my goodness,” Paula said. “Their taste in fashion; I should’ve specified since humans have such a dreadful savagery about them.” The blue avian’s face relaxed, returning to a neutral expression. “I don’t mean you, of course; I mean humans in general.”
“I haven’t personally eaten a koala,” Sam said, “And I don’t know anyone who has. I was just joking earlier.”
“Oh, I see,” Paula said. “I forgot. It must be difficult to tell a joke without even knowing how to express your emotions, but it’s good that you’re trying.”
Sam blinked. “You think I don’t know how to express my emotions?”
Paula pointed at her face. “If you could read my emotions, you’d know I’m smirking at you.”
Sam narrowed his eyes at Paula’s face. Nothing had changed about it. He had even kept his psychic vision active, overlaying his regular field of vision—a skill Ellie had suggested he train—but there still wasn’t a noticeable change.
“You need to unlock your Ajna,” Paula said, pointing at Sam’s forehead between his eyebrows. “How can you tell what other people are feeling when you cannot even see what they look like?”
“You have a good point,” Sam said and nodded his head. “How did you unlock your Ajna?”
“I was born as a transcendent,” Paula said. “Blue avians are connected to the universe by default.”
“Oh,” Sam said. Compared to reptilians, who naturally unlocked their Sahasraras, the blue avians had it much better, being born as a transcendent, someone with all their chakras unlocked and mastered. “Well, do you have any tips for someone like me to unlock their Ajna?”
“External items,” Paula said as one hand reached underneath their other arm’s armpit. Sam thought she was going to make a sound of flatulence, but she retrieved a small hand-carved owl made from a chunk of deep-blue—almost purple—azurite.
Sam blinked as the blue avian offered him the small statue. He didn’t take it. “You’re giving this to me?”
“Just to hold until the master of the Anunaki arrives,” Paula said. “Blue avians have a creative project they spend most of their waking hours on; this belonged to my parent, so I can’t give it to you, but with it, you can unlock your Ajna and Vishuddha with one session of meditation.”
Sam stared at the statue. “And you don’t mind if I use it?”
“Why?” Paula asked. “You’re not going to eat it, are you?”
A wry smile appeared on Sam’s face. “No,” he said and held his hand out. The blue avian probably wasn’t even worried about him stealing the statue. As a transcendent, Paula could probably defeat him with her eyes closed. All the tricks he knew, the blue avian knew as well since their Muladhara and Sahasrara were unlocked and mastered.
Paula placed the statue onto his palm, and her eyes widened as she looked at his hand. The statue melted into a puddle of blue goop before sinking into Sam’s skin like hookworm larva wriggling into the sole of a person’s foot. “What did you do?” the blue avian asked, looking up to meet Sam’s eyes.
Sam’s expression darkened as pulsations surged from his forehead and throat, washing over his body. Why did his talent only seem to work on the things people found precious, making it almost impossible to pay them back? Actually, that might’ve been the triggering condition considering none of the weapons at Treasured Crystals were transformed by his talent. “Sorry,” Sam said, his face flushing red. “It’s a result of my talent.”
“Your talent?” the blue avian asked.
Sam winced upon meeting the blue avian’s gaze. There seemed to be a fog in front of Paula’s face, and different patches of the fog were lit up with different colors. There were many different shades of pink, red, and white. Sam was sure he was seeing the blue avian’s emotions thanks to his newly unlocked Ajna, but he wasn’t sure how to interpret them. Also, since his Ajna unlocked, wouldn’t another animal pop out of him?
A slithering sensation crept up Sam’s back, and he shuddered. A two-headed snake with shiny, blue and purple scales emerged from the back of Sam’s shirt, having come from who knows where. One head was covered in blue scales with a silver scale adorning the center of its forehead while the other was purple with two golden scales above its pure-white eyes, giving it a permanently surprised expression. The snake’s heads hissed at Sam in greeting before circling his head, wrapping around his neck, mouth, and eyes, gagging and blinding him. He reached up and grabbed the snake’s body, but a sharp pain stabbed the back of his hand, causing him to retract his arm. Did the snake just bite him? Was it venomous?
Thoughts flowed into Sam’s mind: yes, he was bitten; yes, it was venomous; there was no need to panic; he was going to be fine. Sam’s expression darkened. If the snake wasn’t going to get off of him, then he’d make it get off of him. He focused on his root chakra, and vibrations pulsed along his spine, sending a wave of nausea towards his head. The snake didn’t move, unphased by Sam’s vibrations.
“Sam?” the blue avian asked. “Are you alright?”
Was he alright? He could barely breathe with the snake’s body wrapped around his neck and mouth. That also meant he couldn’t verbally respond. Sam took in a deep breath through his nose and exhaled while concentrating on his third eye chakra. He visualized the field of candy, and not long after, three animals appeared.
Birdbrained and Raindu both turned to stare at the two-headed snake. The two-headed snake stared back, using one head to match each animal’s gaze. “Hello, Sam,” Raindu said without taking its mahogany eyes off the snake’s white irises.
“Hello, Sam,” Birdbrained said, its tongue licking the edges of its beak as it stared at the snake, causing the two-headed creature to wither and shrink by an inch.
The two heads of the snake stared at Raindu and Birdbrained for a bit before speaking as well. “Hello, Sam.”
Sam scratched his head. Although he wasn’t quite sure how higher-dimensional beings were supposed to react, he could tell the situation was quite tense. He didn’t think his natural talent would summon beings that were antagonistic towards one another, but evidently, it didn’t matter what he thought. “Why does it seem like you don’t like each other?”
“You don’t like this snake either,” Raindu said, keeping its eyes on the snake. The ferret didn’t even eat its usual piece of candy upon entering the field of sweets.
“Yeah,” Sam said, “but that’s because it’s choking me, gagging me, and blinding me, and when I tried to get it to stop, it bit me.”
“Sam,” the snake said from its blue head. “I’m doing this for your own good. Your senses can easily be deceived, but it’s difficult to fool your third eye. By blocking your sight, I’m helping you train your Ajna.”
“Really?” Sam asked, his voice dripping with doubt. “Then why’d you gag and choke me?”
“Blue avians aren’t your friends nor are they ours,” the snake’s blue head said. “Communicating with them leads to plenty of trouble down the line, so the less you say, the better.”
“That doesn’t explain why you’re choking me,” Sam said with a frown.
“That’s just a personal hobby of mine,” the snake’s blue head said, its eyes still trained on Birdbrained. “I won’t kill you; there’s no need to worry. At most, I’ll let you experience pleasure that only oxygen deprivation can bring.”
Sam’s expression darkened. The snake gagged and blinded him for his own sake, and it choked him for fun. Also, Raindu and Birdbrained didn’t seem to get along well with the two-headed creature, but that didn’t mean it was an enemy, right? After all, it was born as a result of his talent … transforming an enemy’s heirloom. “Let’s stop staring at each other so aggressively,” Sam said, walking forward and in between the animals. “We’re all in the same boat now, so we should work with one another.”
“I can’t work with someone I can’t trust,” Raindu said.
Birdbrained squawked. “I agree.”
Sam turned to look at the snake, and slithered in reverse, making space between itself and the other two higher-dimensional creatures. Then, it looked at Sam with an aggrieved expression. The snake’s blue head spoke, “Did you summon me just to bully me? That’s unnecessarily cruel, don’t you think?”
“Guys,” Sam said to Raindu and Birdbrained. “Let’s not forget the situation we’re in. We’re on the cusp of fighting a blue avian, and we need all the help we can get, no?”
“Yes,” Raindu said, “but will it be helping us or the blue avian?”
Sam frowned. “Do you know something about this snake that I don’t?”
“The only trustworthy snake is a dead snake,” Birdbrained said, squawking again.
Sam sighed before turning to look at the snake. “What’s your name?”
“Vercedei,” the blue head said.
“What about you?” Sam asked, looking at the snake’s purple head.
“Werchbite,” the snake’s blue head said, answering for the purple one. “Werchbite doesn’t speak much.”
“Alright,” Sam said. “Vercedei, Werchbite, are you two on my side?”
“Of course,” Vercedei said, “without you, it’ll be hard to roam this plane freely, and we do so love our freedom; it’s in our best interest to keep you alive and well.”
Sam took in a deep breath. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll trust you this time, but if you don’t work with us now, I won’t ever trust you again, okay?”
“No promises,” Vercedei said. Werchbite’s eyes shifted to stare at the snake’s blue head, causing Vercedei to sigh. “Fine. We’ll cooperate nicely this time.”
“Good,” Sam said and stared at the snake’s heads. “First things first, if you fought the blue avian, who would win?”
“We would,” Vercedei said, “but … it’d be hard to survive—mutual destruction, if you will.”
“If Raindu, Birdbrained, and I helped as well?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.
The snake’s two heads scrutinized the trio. “We’ll win,” Vercedei said after nodding at Werchbite, “but if you chose not to help, it’d increase our chances of victory by a few percent.”
“Sam’s fighting,” Raindu said. “He needs the experience.”
Sam didn’t want to fight, but what he wanted didn’t matter because he was simply the weakest and was reliant on the three animals instead of the other way around.
“Fine,” Vercedei said.
“Is everyone ready to deal with the person who wants to deal with me?” Birdbrained asked, squawking and flapping its wings, blowing sugar from the candy grass into the air. “If so, let’s begin immediately.”
Sam nodded, and seeing the other three animals express their agreement, he closed his eyes. Then, he couldn’t open them again because a snake’s belly was covering them. Sam inhaled through his nose and focused on his Ajna. Using it came naturally to him, and his vision expanding, taking on a third-person perspective. He could see the walls around him, the ceiling above him, and the floor below him all at the same time. The blue avian was in front of him, but through his Ajna, he could see solid streaks of light forming Paula’s body. Colorful fog hung off of the blue avian but didn’t stray too far from its body as if it were trapped by a barrier.
“Sam?” Paula asked as the man with the snake wrapped around his head walked to the smoky quartz staff leaning against the wall. “Are you of the mind to fight me?”
Sam couldn’t respond, so he focused on his Vishuddha. He wasn’t quite sure what it could do with an unlocked throat chakra, but after recalling what Vercedei had said, Sam decided not to open communications with the blue avian. Instead, he let his actions do the talking as he rushed forward and swung his staff towards the blue avian’s knee, hardening his weapon in the process.
“Foolish,” Paula said. Sam gritted his teeth as the fog around the blue avian’s body shone with a bright light, almost blinding the vision granted by his Ajna. His staff struck Paula’s leg, but it was as if he had struck a pillow, no feedback given to his hands by the blow. Then, Paula stepped forward and punched towards Sam. He took a step back, but the cloud surrounding the blue avian’s fist extended, striking Sam in the chest. From an outsider’s perspective, it looked like Sam had been blasted by an invisible force, hurling him towards the wall. Thanks to his muscle memory, he used Toughen in time to absorb the impact.
Sam bounced back up, standing on his feet. Staying down and out of position was simply asking to be beaten; in the competitions he participated in whilst in Et Serpentium, everything was allowed, including stomping on the heads of fallen opponents. Oddly enough, the blue avian didn’t take advantage of his recovery time, waiting for Sam to regain a hold of himself.
“You can’t win, not with your heart and solar plexus chakras locked,” Paula said. “You can’t guard against my intent, and you can’t pierce my intent without your own.”
“I don’t suppose you have another family heirloom to give me that’ll help me master them?” Sam asked. Question marks appeared over his head because he hadn’t said a word. It was Vercedei speaking in Sam’s voice. As for how it knew about events prior to its creation, he wasn’t sure, but he figured it was as reasonable as a talking snake.
“I don’t,” Paula said, “but even if I did, I wouldn’t hand it over. If I had known you’d absorb my memento, I wouldn’t have handed it to you in the first place, but I suppose I’m the one at fault for underestimating the abilities of a human.” The blue avian took a step towards Sam, the fog around its body seeming to grow in size as the blue avian mentally towered over him. “Hasn’t my memento helped you? Why are you attacking me? Do humans not understand the meaning of gratitude? How did your civilization ascend to Oterra if that’s the case?”
“I’m grateful,” Vercedei said in Sam’s voice. The twin-headed snake unwound its body from Sam’s head, poising itself to lunge. “You gave me everything I needed to kill you.” The twin-headed snake pounced forward, shooting towards the blue avian like an arrow. At the same time, the window shattered as a colorless eagle flew through it with its talons extended, aiming for Paula’s head.
The blue avian vanished, reappearing behind Sam, avoiding both the eagle’s and the snake’s attacks. “So, you’re a summoner of higher-dimensional creatures,” Paula said. “I’m sorry, but for the sake of Oterra, I can’t let you live.”
Sam didn’t even have time to call for help before blood, flesh, and bones shot out of the center of his chest. The blue avian had punched a hole through the center of his chest, inflicting fatal wounds on his lungs and heart, the shockwave pulverizing his organs into ground meat. Sam looked down at his chest and blinked. No one had told him blue avians could teleport, but then again, if graylings could do it, why couldn’t blue avians? Unlike other dying individuals who had their lives flash before their eyes on the brink of death, Sam didn’t see anything as his vision faded away into nothing. If he survived, he’d definitely have a word with Raindu; the ferret was supposed to protect him, but it hadn’t even shown up during his dying moments.