Skip to content

The Demon’s Cantos

Part 23


“No hesitation!”

Tilda floated in mid-air munching on a strand of plump black grapes and periodically barking encouragement. She lounged on her side in empty space with the same easy relaxation with which most people might lay back on a divan. When she finished a grape she spat out the seeds and infused them with light, haphazardly launching them far out to sea.

On the white sand below, Byron wiped beading sweat from his forehead and tried to focus on the new muscle he’d found. It was a fledgling thing, like finding a new pinky toe and trying to isolate its feeble wiggle.

Byron closed his eyes and searched himself for it, mentally filtering past the other new muscles his training had begun developing. There was gravity and water, fairly well defined now and easily found. He passed fire and felt the dark pull of the far more destructive Unmaker’s flames. But no matter how hard he looked he couldn’t yet find the new muscle he was looking for.

“Damn,” he muttered, and then gave in and thought the words to himself.

Fulgur Meispum Imperium.

Byron’s hands glowed bright yellow and he felt a surge of frenetic energy course through his veins, all emanating from a single spot inside of him, the new “muscle” making itself known again. Byron took a couple of seconds to focus on that spot, trying to hold onto its location so he could more easily return to it later. Then he brought an image to mind, the largest one yet, and opened his eyes.

With a snapping flash as bright and hot as the heart of the Sun a gigantic bolt of lightning exploded out of the palms of Byron’s extended hands. Its majestic electrical power arced across the sand in less than an instant and hit the already well scorched palm tree with a devastating crack. Unlike the other bolts, this one didn’t just set the tree on fire – it exploded the wood where it struck as if the trunk had been stuffed with high explosives.

Byron’s hands returned to normal as the shattered palm toppled over at the mid-section. What remained of its already ashen fronds bursted into flames along with the wood of the stump.

Tilda raised her eyebrows and nodded approval. “Not bad,” she said, spitting out a few more seeds and sending them catapulting at many times the pull of gravity out to the ocean, “a little faster than before.”

Byron sighed, “a little,” he said and channeled the internal muscle for water, causing his hands to glow bright blue. He didn’t even need to think the channeling words to access water anymore, on account of all the fires his training caused.

Byron walked closer to the burning remains of yet another destroyed palm tree, the air still ripe with lingering ozone from the incredible ionizing power of the lightning bolt. Raising one hand up and bracing himself in the sand, Byron looked at the blue ocean and held the image in his mind. Suddenly an impossible gush of salt water spilled out of Byron’s hand in a stream as wide as Byron was tall. The salt waterfall fell upon the burning tree and snuffed it out as easily as a smoldering match-head held under a kitchen faucet.

Although the water only flowed for a couple of seconds, it dragged the top half of the dead tree out toward the ocean in a miniature, reverse tsunami. Korbius, who was watching and relaxing just off shore, saw the wave of water and the spear-like tree trunk racing down the beach toward him and disappeared beneath the shallow waves, surfacing dozens of meters away from the rush of detritus just as it rolled into the sea.

Korbius’s totally un-ironic voice came into Byron’s mind like a psychic loudspeaker.

Expertly done, Master Byron! Another tree vanquished! These trees fall like brine shrimp before your power!

Byron rolled his eyes in a self-effacing way, though it was hard not to feel a little heartened by Korbius’s enthusiasm, however misguided. “Thanks Korbius,” Byron said and added sarcastically, “we’ll have this island conquered in no time.”

Even as he learned to use the power of the Cantos, Byron was also learning more about his connection with the Lord of the Octopodiae. For instance, after carrying out a few tests, it was clear that Byron did not need to speak out-loud for Korbius to hear and understand him. Just thinking something was enough to communicate with Korbius – although Byron found it difficult to ‘think’ with clarity. Still, it was a good to know.

Tilda floated down from the sky and landed gently behind Byron. Faustus walked over from the porch and placed himself at perfect forehead petting height beneath Tilda’s right hand. Tilda obliged the spider thoughtlessly as she spoke.

“Each piece of the puzzle will become second nature eventually,” she said, looking down affectionately at Faustus, “but you shouldn’t get accustomed only to brute force.”

Byron turned around, “how do you mean?”

Tilda stopped petting Faustus and began to glow. “The universe isn’t all lightning bolts and flamethrowers Byron.” Tilda gently plucked the remaining grapes off of the tendril of vine she held and as each one came loose it began to glow and float in midair between her and Byron.

“The Universe,” she began as the final grape joined six others and floated in front of her, “is a system.”

Tilda reached out and touched one of the grapes and a moment later the other six grapes floated straight towards it, sticking to its sides as if drawn to it by a magnet.

“It’s easy to focus on the flashiest parts at first ─”

Tilda picked off each grape stuck to the center grape one by one and held them in her right hand.

“─ but if you don’t look closer you’ll miss the quieter ones.”

One by one, Tilda took a grape, raised it to a point a few inches from the still floating central grape, and gave it a small toss. She brought each grape a couple of inches further away than the last and tossed it at a different angle relative to the others.

“The Unmaker has no subtlety, It feeds off destruction ─”

One by the one Tilda tossed the grapes, until eventually all six grapes orbited the central grape at jaunty angles in an unbroken, smooth chaos of motion. Byron watched, transfixed.

“─but the real beauty, and the real power, is often less obvious ─”

As the grapes swung around the central grape Tilda looked at the strange floating system of fruit with calm attention, making tiny gestures with her left hand. Slowly, the chaotic, multi-directional orbits began to coalesce and run parallel to one another.

“─ a lightning bolt can destroy a palm tree, but the same force powers our minds ─”

With a final flick of her pointer finger the last grape fell into line, orbiting on the same plane and roughly the same speed as the other six – six planets around a central star – a perfect, miniature solar system of grapes.

“─ a single atom weighs nothing, but get enough of them in the same place ─”

Tilda raised her hand and crushed it into a fist. Suddenly the central grape began to collapse in on itself, at first slightly, small divots forming in its outer skin, but then all at once, just disappearing into itself with a tiny, bright flash of light and small pop. Byron looked at the space where the central grape had been and saw only a slight distortion, almost like looking through a tiny lens at the world beyond. Tilda kept her fist tight as the other six grapes at first continued to orbit the center as if nothing had changed, but then fell toward the now disappeared grape. One by one the grapes extended, growing thinner and thinner, like grape tornadoes terminating where the central grape used to be. Each grape funneled away down to nothing until the last grape disappeared, at which point Tilda unfurled her fist and stopped glowing. The shimmer of central grape was also gone.

“─ A Cantor has to master all forces Byron – not just the loud ones, but all of them – a Cantor must master the entire system.” Tilda looked at him, her eyes blue again.

Byron blinked and stood in silent amazement for another moment. “Was that a black hole?”

Tilda shrugged and gave him an ‘aw-shucks’ smirk. “Just a little one.”

“Tilda, if you can make black holes,” Byron spoke excitedly, “I think we might have this one in the bag, right?”

Tilda chuckled, “I doubt I could make one big enough to solve our problem,” Tilda said, “and even if I could make one that big, we’d be sucked into it just as quickly.”

Byron clenched his teeth, channeling what courage he could, “well, I mean, even if it cost us our lives, if it meant saving the entire universe…”

“That’s very brave Byron,” Tilda interupted gently, “But it wouldn’t do any good. The Unmaker’s physical form has been destroyed before, many times.”

Byron’s eyes widened, “wait what? It’s been killed before?”

Tilda shook her head. “Not killed. The Unmaker is part of the structure of the Universe – but It has to manifest itself physically in order to directly interact with things. That physical form can, and has been, destroyed – but destroying It isn’t enough.”

Byron felt his heart begin to race. “If the Unmaker can’t be killed then what exactly are we trying to do here?”

“Buy time. The Unmaker can’t remake Its physical form immediately. It takes months for It to reform. If we can destroy It, that would give us time to find them.”

Byron was becoming frustrated. “Find who?”

“The other Cantor,” Tilda said.

“You don’t know where they are” Byron said, more as a frustrated statement than a question.

Tilda shook her head, “not for sure, no. But I have an idea – I just couldn’t get there by myself. But with the Cantos you should be able to find them. They’re likely in the place between places. You’ve been there before, when you teleported to Ocracoke.”

Byron thought back to the dozens of teleportations he and Korbius had gone through in the Sisyphean effort not to fall to their death over Ocracoke island. Each time there had been a brief moment of stability between disappearing and reappearing from the world.

The place between places.

“If that’s where the Cantor is then why don’t we just go there right now?” Byron bent down and hefted up the Cantos from where it rested on the sand, “I’m sure I can figure it out.”

But Tilda shook her head firmly. “No, you can’t teleport off the island. The Cantor built this place with safety in mind Byron.” Tilda pointed to the closed outhouse door floating over the sand some distance away. “There’s only one way in and one way out. The island is like a bubble separated from reality – a miniature universe.”

Byron tried to wrap his head around the immense implications of Tilda’s comment, failed, and decided to save understanding for later. “Well, it’s got to be worth a try at least,” he said, beginning to open towards the teleportation page.

Tilda began to glow again and touched the Cantos, which flew up out of Byron’s hands and sped into the air like a speeding bullet.

“Hey,” Byron said, “not fair!”

“Byron,” Tilda was yelling, “we are beyond everything here, past the edge of infinity! The island isn’t connected to anything except by that doorway. It’s a delicate bubble of reality. Teleporting from here is like, ” Tilda shook her head emphatically, struggling for a metaphor “opening the door of a submarine at the bottom of the ocean.”

Byron went silent and a moment later the Cantos fell back into the sand nearby. Eventually Byron found his voice again.

“Fine,” he managed.

Tilda rested a hand on his shoulder, “look, we have weeks yet. You’re getting better faster than I thought possible.” Tilda smiled. “I believe in you Byron. Mary believed in you, your Nan believed in you. We can do this.”

Byron took a deep breath and nodded, even though he was not convinced.

Not convinced at all.



If You Enjoyed This Story – Or Any Of The Hundreds Of Other Legends From The Multiverse – And Want To Give A Dollar To The Madman Behind The Curtain Who Writes Them All:

Subscribe to the RSS feed or leave a comment anywhere on the r/LFTM subreddit with “!subscribeme” or “subscribeme!”, and you’ll receive a notification whenever a new story or continuation is posted.


READ MORE FLASH FICTION

ACTIONAPOCALYPTICDARKESTABLISHED
UNIVERSE
FANTASY
FUNNY
MAYBE
HORRORMISCWTF IS
THIS?
SAD
SCIENCE
FICTION
SCIENCE
FANTASY
 TWIST
ENDING
RANDOM

READ LONGER STORIES

THE DEMON’S CANTOSINCIDENTAL SUPERHERO
BENEATHTHE HUMANITY SAGA
THE TRAVELERI, LYCANTHROPE

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *