In the desolate forest, the dark castle continues to drift while emitting the soul binding melody. The people entrapped in the melody still stood like statues without any movement.
Kent sat cross-legged atop the ethereal lotus flower, its radiant petals blooming softly beneath him. The flower drifted a few inches above the marble floor, pulsing gently as though alive, bestowed upon him by the long-forgotten God of Music.
In front of him towered the ancient rock edict, nearly ten feet tall, shimmering faintly under the amber glow of floating lanterns. Its surface bore the spell, each carved in intricate patterns resembling sacred texts, radiating an ancient, potent energy.
At the very top, the name of the spell was etched in golden letters: “Ashta Chatura Maya Sahasra” – The Eightfold Reflection of Senses.
Kent traced the runes with his eyes, feeling the weight of the spell seep into his bones. It was not just a replication spell; it was a test of the soul, demanding perfect harmony between mind, body, and spirit. A single mistake could fracture his consciousness across dimensions, leaving him shattered in oblivion.
A soft giggle echoed through the hall.
The little girl spirit, the self-proclaimed ‘Daughter of Music,’ floated nearby. Her dark, oversized robes dragged across the floor, far too big for her tiny frame. Bushy hair framed her round face, her eyes glimmering with an unsettling mixture of amusement and curiosity. She had been watching Kent closely since he began, lingering like a shadow.
“Hmph. Are you sure you can handle it?” she teased, floating lazily around the lotus. “The last guy who tried lost control of his clones and… well, let’s just say he became part of the castle.”
Kent didn’t reply. His focus remained on the inscriptions.
“Oh, come on!” She floated upside down in front of him, her head level with his. “You’re no fun. At least pretend to be nervous.”
“Stop the nonsense and hide in a corner.” Kent’s voice was calm, but there was an underlying edge to it. “If you want to talk, wait until I get this right.”
The girl’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you if your head explodes.” She drifted away, though her eyes never left him.
Kent closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The spell demanded precision. He had to split his mind into eight self’s, each capable of independent thought and action, yet tethered to his core consciousness. The first inscription glowed faintly as he chanted the words aloud:
“Prathama Prati bimba Sthira Bhavam.” – The First Reflection of Stability.
Golden light erupted around him. A faint outline shimmered at his side, forming into a translucent clone. The clone opened its eyes and met Kent’s gaze, as if waiting for instruction.
Kent raised his hand. The clone mirrored him exactly.
“Not bad.” The girl’s voice echoed from the distance. “But can you make it move on its own?”
Kent concentrated. He willed the clone to step forward. To his surprise, it obeyed. A subtle thread of consciousness connected them, allowing Kent to feel what it felt and see through its eyes.
A ripple of satisfaction coursed through him, but he knew this was only the beginning.
He turned to the next inscription.
“Dwitiya bimba Vyavaharam.” – The Second Reflection of Action.
Sweat trickled down his brow as he recited the words. Another clone materialized, standing beside the first. This one felt heavier, denser, more aware. The strain doubled, and Kent clenched his teeth. Splitting his focus between two conscious entities was no small feat.
“Two’s easy,” the girl chimed, tilting her head. “Three will really start to hurt.”
Ignoring her, Kent pressed on.
“Tritiya Bimba Sahacharam.” – The Third Reflection of Partnership.
The third clone emerged, and Kent’s head throbbed violently. It was like juggling blades while standing on a tightrope.
He could feel each clone as if they were extensions of his limbs, yet maintaining their individuality required constant effort. The lotus beneath him dimmed slightly as it absorbed the brunt of his mental exhaustion.
Still, he continued.
Two days passed in a blink and Kent failed multiple times. But maintaining 6 clones became an easy task for him now.
By the time he reached the seventh inscription, his breath was ragged, and his vision blurred. Almost at the end of losing consciousness.
“Saptama Bimba Ekagrata.” – The Seventh Reflection of Singular Focus.
Seven clones surrounded him, each a perfect replica of his form. They stood in silence, awaiting his command. The weight on his mind was unbearable, like holding a mountain aloft with sheer willpower.
“You’re almost there,” the girl whispered, her voice softer this time.
Kent gritted his teeth. The final inscription glowed, brighter than the rest.
“Ashtama Bimba Purnatva.” – The Eighth Reflection of Completion.
As the words left his lips, the air around him trembled. The eighth and final clone materialized, completing the circle. For a brief moment, the connection stabilized. Kent could feel through eight sets of eyes, hear through eight sets of ears, and command eight bodies.
He opened his eyes. The clones moved freely, independent yet bound to him. It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.
“You did it,” the girl whispered, awe flickering in her gaze. “No one’s ever completed all eight.”
Kent exhaled deeply, the pressure lifting slightly. “Now, how do I break the spell that is holding everyone like statues?”
The girl moved her hand and pointed at the musical instruments around the hall. At its center lay eight ancient instruments, arranged in a perfect circle around a grand stone platform. The inscriptions on each glowed faintly, matching the spell he had just learned.
“You must play the melody written here,” she pointed at the edict. “Only your clones can perform it all at once. If you miss a single note, the curse will remain.”
Kent nodded, glancing back at his eight reflections. Each stepped forward, ready to take their position. Find adventures on My Virtual Library Empire
In the distance, the baby dragon casually moved along the castle corridors, dragging a chest filled with treasures it had gathered from all corners. Its tail flicked lazily as if oblivious to the weight it carried.
–
TQ for the Golden-Tickets.