Dawn clarifies her sadness before I have to ask, “Hey Boss, hey Rej. Guess I’ve got a super power too, or something. S’crappy though.”
I raise an eyebrow, unsure how to proceed. If she’s annoyed that she’s not as powerful as us, then me trying to comfort her might come across as patronizing. She leans Lullaby my way, so I accept him and shrink him back down to set him alongside the egg in the pouch on my neck.
Dawn pleads, “Boss? Rej? Sisters? Can I get a minute alone with Boss please?”
I glance around, looking for somewhere to be to give Dawn privacy, the sisters point to a room a fair ways down the hall, answering my unspoken question. They glide away back the way we’d come, but I heed their advice as I glance concernedly back at Teuila and Dawn. I’ll give them their privacy, no problem, no questions asked. I enter the room and glance around at its stark emptiness. There aren’t any objects in here to risk damaging, good.
How many should I use? I know it might be overkill, but I’m tempted to use all seven fireballs in the staff. I gnaw on my lip. Yeah, screw it, we’re safe here, and we’ll be here long enough to recharge it. I enter the farthest corner of the room, place my back in the corner, and face the staff such that it points directly at my face, centered on my forehead.
And a one, and a two, and a three, let’s do this. Fireball, oof, fireball, oof, fireball, oof, fireball, oof, fireball, oof, fireball, oof. Oy vey, dizzy. Wait, that was only six. Fireball, oof. Hm? Yes Bud, I’m being kind of stupid. I just felt really gross and dirty with some wiggly gunk on me earlier. Huff. Yeah, you’re right. Also thanks for the food, again. I’m going to eat another packet right now. Yes I’ve been eating the leaf too, I don’t know where to put things like waste while in here.
Sitting in the corner, I munch and snack, trying to recover my vitality from spending like three or four days in a levitating meditative overextended state. Phew. I’ve got a waterskin of that amazing water too, thank you Bud. I’m probably going to glug down the whole thing with how empty and dehydrated I feel. Pfft, haha, yes, it is my fault that I’m dehydrated, but not because of the fireballs. Okay, maybe a little bit because of the fireballs. Hah.
Dawn and Teuila appear to be done with their private minute, as they rush cautiously into the room. I blink repeatedly, realizing at some point, my sight returned, and it may have been returned for quite some time already. They both look around before fixing their gazes on me. Laughter overtakes both of them. I raise an eyebrow.
Dawn asks, “Rej. Rej hahaha. Rej, what, haha, what do you call that hairdo? An accident at the lab? Hahaha.”
What? Oh, my silent sonar lets me picture it. Oh, haha. It’s sort of fried up into place like the bride of Frankenstein’s monster or some other weird up-do, only it’s a bit smoky and charred.
Teuila snorts while pleading, “Please, haha, please tell me it’s not going to stay like that. What were you even doing in here? We heard a bunch of explosions, then a pause, then another one. Did you see a roach or something?”
It’s my turn to snort a laugh. I shake my head while responding, “Hah, no, come on Te, I might be a bit overdramatic, but seven fireballs on a single bug? Haha. No. It was seven fireballs on my own face so I could be sure every last molecule of wriggly blood jello was evaporated.”
Dawn and Teuila double over with laughter. Te tries to speak through her laughter, “Pfft, haha. My Airhead, haha. You see how that’s, hah, not any better, right? Pfft haha. We could have asked for some rags or a bath or something. Hehe.”
I chuckle, but I still shudder when I think about the gross wriggliness. Shaking my head, I try to explain it, “It wriggled while it slid around Te, it was so so so gross. I mean, you met King on our final day on Can’Z’aas, it was like having him being slopped onto my forehead. And, well, also down my throat, eugh. Kinda glad my migraine nauseated me enough to throw up, even if I feel like a jerk leaving my sick for someone else to clean up.”
Teuila tries, and fails, to keep a straight face as she states, “Oh no, totally understandable, I’d explode my own face seven times in a row too if I had that sleaze on it for a couple seconds before the Sister rubbed it off too. Hahaha. Not an overreaction at all. Hehe.”
I can’t help laughing while shaking my head in a mixture of embarrassment, chagrin, and simple humorous enjoyment of the silliness of it all. The three of us spend several long moments in a cycle of laughter as each of us laughing reinforces the humor of the other two, causing an infectious laughter loop.
We finally mostly stop laughing, save for the occasional titter from one or the other of us. I yawn while taking stock of our surroundings before asking, “Either of you notice that this place has a whole lot of nothing? Lots of empty random space, yeah? What are these mysterious resources we’re going to be able to supposedly take advantage of? Either of you notice any?”
Dawn and Teuila each shake their head in response, as a Sister virtually materializes behind them, spooking all of us. The Sister remarks, “I believe you were asking about our resources just now, and we’ll surely have them at your disposal, but you’ve all had several long days, and each of you is weary in one form or another. Or several in your case Reggie. Please follow us to a suitable suite, you can take individual rooms or share a room, there is plenty of space. You’ve your own tomes and scrolls and such to go through still. We promise to make our resources available to you soon after you’ve rested and explored your options.”
I gnaw on my bottom lip. She is technically right, we’ve got plenty of material still from Milbert to dig through. Teuila and Dawn managed to pick up some history texts and other odds and end from the Enochian Enclave too, though none of us has high hopes for any of them to pan out into answers or cures. I heave a sigh and shrug before rubbing my itchy eyes. I’m grateful for my thermal resistance. I still have my eyebrows and eyelashes, somehow. Thanks spawning as Can’Z’aasian critterkin adjacent I suppose. Pft, Bud, I was wondering why you were so quiet during all of that. Hah. No I wasn’t trying anything like that. Yes, I’m absolutely certain it was absolutely necessary to clean myself that way. Yes I’m being somewhat sarcastic and slightly exaggerating, but only slightly.
I rise up to join Dawn and Teuila, and the three of us lean on one another while following along behind the Sister. Dawn whispers, “I had to ask Boss if I should even tell you Rej. My stupid superpower lets me see like, time, number things when I think about like, like the, some sort of point of something I’m looking at, like when fruit’s going to rot, or, or. You get it, right? I, huff, grr. I’m not even sure if like, it’s the guaranteed super absolute future, or what. Only right now they’re blurry, can’t really read them, since I just started using it. Not sure I’ll have time to practice, but yours and mine Rej, it’s. It don’t look good. Boss’s is just like, like a big symbol that doesn’t change.”
My jaw hangs slack. No wonder Dawn looked lost, and depressed. At least, at least we’re pretty sure Teuila’s going to make it through whatever is thrown at her by the sound of it. Maybe. Like Dawn said, no idea how accurate it is, or if it only applies to things that definitely already have a ticking clock. It might not be able to give her an accurate doomsday clock on everyone she looks at, unless they have like, an illness or toxin killing them. She could definitely benefit from using it for a few years around a large group of people to figure things like that out. If only I could guarantee that she’ll get that.
My eyelids refuse to open at all at the moment, the weight of it all just straining every part of me. As I’m about to topple forward, the Sister says, “Consider this wing your suite, feel free to take up as many or as few rooms as you like. If you need to leave our sanctuary to forage or hunt for supplies, let one of us know, and we will assist you with the traversal. We’re fairly certain that, unlike most of our visitors, you’ve no need of such repeated entry and exit.”
Half asleep, I find myself nodding along and scratching the back of my head. She’s right. Between Teuila’s purchases in The Brook, our snagging what supplies we could in Victo, and stocking up in the Hidden Heart, and all the stuff she brought out of her inventory, we’re set on food for sure. Maybe not water, but we can burn that bridge when we come to it, or however the saying goes. Maybe cross the river before burning it? The bridge I mean, not the river. Though heh, it kind of does sound a bit funny to imagine setting a whole river aflame. Like, “Welcome to my river rafting tour, we’re a class four rapids over here on the river of fire folks, you’ll be wanting to keep your limbs inside the raft at all times.”
Pft, hah, yes Bud, my brain was pretending to be some river tour guide on a river of fire. I can’t explain why. I’m just goofy in the head that way sometimes. What, you’ve never had a silly thought to keep your mind occupied or distract you or when you were too tired to think comprehensibly or something? Eh, keep hanging out with me, and I’m sure some of my crazy will rub off eventually. Also, don’t even comment on my phrasing just now. It hit me just after it left my mouth, well, head, well, neither. As soon as I thought it.
What’s that Bud? Wait, what? Since when? Huh. Looking around, yeah, you’re right. When did I even get into my pajamas though? I did? Wow. Still, this feels nice. Dawn seems to finally feel safe with us, since she’s bed hogging, and she doesn’t even sleep. It kind of forces us to be close to her, no matter where we roll or how we lay. Actually, wait, when did Dawn even get pajamas? Are you sure this is really Dawn? Aura sense? Oh yeah. Okay, yeah, it’s her. That’s her soul. I recognize Dawn’s shirt, it’s one of her undershirts, but the pa— really? That’s cartoonishly funny. Just dropping down one article of clothing that usually doesn’t have another of the same underneath to reveal another of that article of clothing beneath.
Cartoons? Yeah, more Fakeworld stuff. Particularly the ones I’m thinking about are usually like, some character is wearing a mask, someone else pulls it off, revealing another mask beneath, several times in a row. Eh, it’s humorous when you see it, probably not so much when it’s described. It’s a visual medium. I know you’ve got weird, limited senses though, so they probably wouldn’t be as fun for you even if they existed. What? No, absolutely not.
Because I’ve told you before about stuff like that Bud. But also because Dawn is here, and I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. Err, I’m not sure exactly why she is Bud, but that’s her business, it’s the way she is. You can relate, right? Like, have you talked to your sister about wanting to not be a weapon? No? Are you afraid of how she’s going to react? Do you want to have to explain to her exactly why you want that?
Sorry Bud, I don’t mean to actually press you on those things, you don’t need to come up with answers. It was an example of sort of what it might be like for Dawn. Imagine every person we ever meet was another one of your sister, who might possibly have those same questions you’re afraid she’ll ask, and they ask them, despite it not being their business. Yeah. Exactly. Thank you. I’m sure Dawn appreciates it too. Did you two get along okay when she was learning about her innate talent?
Yeah, I kinda figured she would do that. Yeah, she’ll hold on with a death grip when she’s scared, or when her senses leave her. It didn’t hurt, did it? Okay, good. Huff, yawn. I’m sorry Bud, I’d keep chatting, but I am so exhausted and sleepy. Essie and Iceflame doing okay with Teuila? Good, good. I, I’ll try to make room for them as soon as I can recover and sort through some things. I need to have a concrete plan on how to save Dawn before anything else. I hope they understand that. Yeah? Okay, I’m glad. Thanks Bud. Nighty night. Hm? Yeah, sure, knock yourself out, read all you like. I know you can’t actually knock— oh, goon, hah. I’m going to sleep now.
Ugh, ow. My left shoulder, mandible joint, the entirety of all the muscle groups up and down the left side of my spine ache like hell. Hm? Yeah, morning Bud. Or some period of day I guess. Read anything interesting? Err, I guess that’s interesting, I meant more along the lines of anything that could help our current quests. No, no Bud don’t worry, I’m still happy to share my story with you, all of it, and I didn’t mean to sound down on you for enjoying your time reading. Yeah, I just, kind of lived through that part a few times, and it nearly broke me. Yeah, I’m glad I managed to save her too. Heh, obviously. I wonder what ever happened to Vesuviform anyway. Huff. Oh well, time to go about our day.
Hoy, oopf. Oh. Well that’s probably part of why my shoulder hurts so much. Dawn’s got my arm twisted around my back as she keeps me in her death grip. Poor Dawn, senses gone yet again. I draw a ragged breath while shaking my head in dismay. I barely resist sobbing as I drop a forlorn sigh by the wayside of my many wasted, saddened breaths.
Dawn slowly rouses as her senses return to her, and she shoves me off the top of her where she’d dragged me to, with chagrin. I flash her a sad half-smile while I dig through the various books, tomes, scrolls, letters, and other writings we’ve got. Teuila seems to be exercising out in the hallway while reading several books. I set aside more tomes for Teuila that seem to detail additional martial mental enchantments.
Nursing the ridiculous pain along my left shoulder muscles up along my neck towards my jaw, I slowly stagger out to the hallway as I eat a handful of nuts. Dawn sits in bed fidgeting, so I raise an eyebrow towards her.
Dawn notices and responds, nervously, “Rej, I, I’m not sure what to do here. I’ve been relying on you two crazy cats to get me out of this mess. Just when I finally thought maybe I could do something to help out, or to get out of it myself, I, I get this stupid thing that doesn’t help at all. I hate that my troubles are your troubles, that I’ve gotta lay all the pressure on you and Boss. If, if you can’t find the cure, and, and you can’t find a way to finish me off first. I.”
Dawn gulps, hesitating before continuing, “I just want, if somehow, if somehow you remember me. I want you to remember how hard you tried, and how grateful I was. Don’t go beating yourself up. Don’t give up. Find your cure. Be with Boss. Make sure she doesn’t lose you too.”
I gulp a ragged breath as I slowly, sadly nod at Dawn. I’ve no words for such a sentiment. Before I can find a response to share, Dawn says, “I’m going to go talk with some Sisters. I’m, well, I’m gonna make myself scarce for a couple days. Stuff on my mind. I won’t be that hard to find if you figure out how to break the curse, but just, just don’t worry about me til you do. Thanks Rej, pal. See you here and there.”
I reach out a hand towards Dawn as she begins to take flight. She actually pauses momentarily. Dawn lines her fingertips up to mine and pushes my hand back towards me with a sad half-smile on her face. The moment our fingertips connect, I feel the despair rising within her, the urgency, the doubt. I nod while watching her as she turns to leave.
Dawn tells Teuila much the same thing as she heads out. Moments later, Teuila enters the room, sniffling, and hugging the books she’d been studying. We spend hours in silence reading our various resources together. I’m committing series after series of runes to memory to be able to practice later. There are so many spells from so many schools within this host of books. Where are all these magic users? Are these books all passed down from ancients, and just jealously hoarded? Who the hell did Milbert steal them from?
Huff. Grr. Jarrah seemed to know plenty about the magic system, but even he mostly just let the enchantments on his room conjure up their own effects. Neither Sindred, nor the young dryad who was pissed off at me bothered casting anything at me. None of the assailants cast spells at me. The kobolds’ magic seems entirely different, though that’s likely because of their draconic nature.
Don Derbrightmine might have been using magic to make his voice supernaturally loud that one time. I couldn’t tell over the splitting headache his voice gave me. His wife seemed to be some sort of inventive enchanter. Neither Kozzurth nor any of the Colossi seemed to cast anything. Berinon was a successful enchanter, but he didn’t cast anything. I’m half tempted to start acting like Aces and believe there’s no such thing as magic on Rayileklia, to try to find other excuses for things that have occurred. A whole cult of Bright Lord worshipers, and the only one who might have casted a spell, well, basically said his lord did it for him, more or less.
I can’t take it any longer. None of our resources are going to save Dawn. The Sisters had better have something, anything that might help out. I lean over to kiss Teuila and flash her a gaze to share my determination. She nods in understanding. I’ll get our telepathy back as soon as we’ve saved Dawn. I’ll help Essie and Iceflame figure out if they have any enchantments any more as soon as we’ve saved Dawn. I’ll work on getting strong enough to save myself from my own stupid encroaching death as soon as we’ve saved Dawn.
The lack of Sisters anywhere in the complex as I search around for even a single one to speak with is vexing, perplexing to say the least. Do they even have any spellbooks or anything on hand? Ugh, thinking about spellcasting though. Frickin’ hell. Ol’ manxy is going to end up being a powerful archmage on top of everything else his soul stealing arse gets up to. I draw a ragged breath and release an angered sigh of exasperation. Frustrated, I glance down several hallways of an intersection, and just sit on my rear in the middle of it.
I angrily shout, “Where the hell are you!? Our resources aren’t enough!”
I drop my face into my hands, as my elbows rest on my knees. The world doesn’t make any sense. Acid clouds above that never relent, soul stealing jerkwads ruling kingdoms and siphoning souls over a massive populous, a place with a name that I made up actually existing? It can’t be real. Am I really just having one last dying fever dream on Can’Z’aas, still standing at the book? Is the reason that it seems to be just me and Teuila on this journey, because she was the last to die from reading her book, and she was reaching for me?
I almost want to leave, and chase down Mataalii to the untamed uncharted lands or whatever the hell. Just to see if he has any of the same doubts, or if he even still exists now that he’s left the periphery of my senses and our journey. Huff, grr. A light touch upon my shoulder has me whirling about, preparing to strike someone down in anger. I rattle my head, trying to remove rage’s grip from my senses. The Sister doesn’t look startled per se, but concerned at least.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
I nearly bark a demand of her, but I manage to fight my inner struggle enough to remain calm. I ask, “What’s going on? Why did it take so long to find one of you? Where are the resources you have?
Instead of answers, I’m confronted with a plea for help, “Would you hand over the tome with the unsightly spell? The one with the abhorrent costs. We believe it would be safest in possession of your mentor. We would also beg your aid in the summoning of steeds as you’ve mentioned recently gaining such a spell.”
I frown and grump, “Yeah, sure, I guess. Wouldn’t the book be just as safe here? I honestly don’t care either way, it’s just weird is all. I left it back in the room with Teuila. We’re not doing very well emotionally at the moment.”
The Sister nods, “It is regrettable, lamentable that such is your current state. The cloudy pall that hangs over the near future is an unwelcome disruption to our usual senses, and we know that you three are the key to returning clarity. As long as we have your permission, one of the Sisters will fetch the book and meet us at the entrance. Please, follow me.”
I huff a sigh and roll my eyes in exasperation. This isn’t getting me closer to saving Dawn, but the Sisters have been kind to us, so I’ll try not to be a jerk with my moodiness. It doesn’t take long until we’re at a location in a dead end, and another Sister approaches with the book of soul ensnaring. I raise an eyebrow, and the wall of the dead end dissolves, revealing the valley outside, and our carriage left untouched.
I know that the Sister asked for the ghostly steeds spell, though I’m not sure if they’ll last long enough to make it all the way to the Heart, even without the weight of a rider or carriage. I think they only last twenty four hours. Then again, I think it was only about thirty two to forty eight hours of travel time at an average pace with the carriage, since we slept. Well, Teuila and Dawn slept, err, well, Teuila slept. I suppose at top speed, non stop, since they don’t need to rest, they might make it to the Heart. Thankfully the Enochian Enclave is the nearest, uh, building, I guess.
I focus on what the one book had taught me, how to summon the steeds. I doubt I need all three, so hopefully that makes a single steed stronger or faster or last longer or something. I call it forth from some aetherial essence as a mana construct. It is a remarkable specimen of a creature, or at least a depiction of one. I drop a sigh and wave towards the steed for the Sisters to do with it what they will.
I ask the horse, “Please listen to the Sister and try to do what she tells you, to the best of your abilities? I don’t know if you even need to be commanded, but, yeah. Do your best.”
There’s a slight chuckle from the Sisters, which I’m not in the mood to address. I’d normally be glad of bringing a laugh to someone, but I’m trying to fight through my desperation at the moment. I glance at the two Sisters. One ties a small satchel, containing the horrific spell tome, to the horse. She seems to whisper her demand to it, faces it out of the compound, and slaps it on its rear. The horse takes off like a bolt, and the wall reforms behind it.
It seems like even if I wanted to choose unkindness for some reason, that I’d remain trapped in here. The duration of our stay could become possibly forever, with Teuila, and Dawn, without the Sisters help. Unpleasant thoughts. Or maybe one or another of my spells could get us out, who knows. I’m not here to cause trouble for them. The Sisters beckon silently, so I follow, sighing and rolling my eyes exasperatedly.
What resources could they even have in such an empty place? As if in answer to my questions, after rounding several corners, I find myself in a room coated in utter darkness. There appear to be bubbles floating about, but staring at the bubbles reveals strange inverted reflections that aren’t present around me. As if they’re showing what could be inside the bubbles, despite them appearing empty.
A Sister explains, “Our curator is, hm, something of a unique sort. She is doing her best to present our available resources to you in a way that could be meaningful. We’re sure you’ll work it out. Do be careful in here, time truly flies when you’re absorbed in one thing or another.”
I raise an eyebrow, but the Sisters depart, leaving me alone in a massive dark room filled with bubbles floating aimlessly about. I huff a sigh and sink to my rear yet again. What the hell am I supposed to do with these? Huff, grr. They don’t seem to be the kind of bubbles that dissipate on their own, but if I touch one, will they pop? Will that piss the Sisters off? Or their mysterious curator? I’m not going to make any progress just sitting here, so I may as well try. I know they want me to succeed, but they could be a little more forthcoming with some things.
Reaching out as the closest bubble inches ever so slightly my way, my fingertip brushes its surface. I find my senses transferred into the reflected world beyond. I’m sitting at a desk, poring over a tome whose scribbles at first appear alien to me. Thankfully the linguistic enchantment takes over, and begins to translate. On this first day of, what is this, somebody’s holiday journal? I huff a sigh and growl. How do I leave this little bubble world? Glancing around, it appears as if this small well-lit desk is the only thing in existence.
I draw a ragged breath and sigh. I know they wouldn’t intentionally trap me some place, but I can certainly see how this place might leave me caught up in things. Wait. The far-seeing spell. These bubbles are somehow something like it. The Sisters don’t really have any resources themselves. They didn’t even want to keep the one book. My senses are somewhere out in Rayileklia, probably literally reading through someone’s holiday journal abandoned on their desk.
This explains a bit about their oracular powers, and how they might have been able to see or hear conversations we’d had. How do I stop being far-casted with my senses? Argh my neck is killing me. Come on Reggie, think. What if we just step away from the desk, into this open void? It’s a bit of a terrifying prospect, but it’s not like falling to your death, or falling for eternity right now really changes much. I take a step of faith.
I close my eyes and wait with bated breath for the sensation of falling to take over my senses. Raising one eyelid, I peek around nervously. Huh. I guess it’s that simple. There must be thousands though, possibly even millions of bubbles. How the heck am I even supposed to figure out which ones I’ve already looked at? Deep breath, slow sigh Reggie. Just do your best. Do everything you can. Don’t waste time overly worrying. Maybe something will come to you after a few failures.
How about this bubble? Cookbook? Really Sisters? Why even archive the far sight of a cookbook? Bluh. Next. Unfinished musical compositions. Next. This looks like children’s scribbles attempting their first sentences. Next. Huff, more cookbooks. Next, diaries. Hm. This person at least kept meticulous diaries. They keep their diaries neatly stacked in chronological order. If they’ve ever been to a magic school, maybe they recorded the classes they took, or the books they were required to read. It’s my first remotely possible lead in this room so far.
Hm, wow, they’ve been journaling since they were quite young. Their penmanship certainly gets better over the years. Betrothal? Gross. Oh, good for you, running away from that. Hm, still managed to work your way up into nobility, but on your own merits, far away. I’ve no fondness for nobility, but good job. Gosh, what an intriguing life you’ve led. No mention of magic so far though. Children, grandchildren. Different family names all staying part of your family. Great grand—. A wisp of red hair? She grows more wild and adventurous by the year? Our Tabitha Lynnia Altross is unruly, much like I was at her age? She hates her name, and the flowery haircuts her mother has picked. Tabitha pleads for me, err, you, to set up fencing lessons and equestrianism instead of grammarian and etiquette lessons, and so on. Good on you for listening to her heart’s desires and setting those up. You’re really invested in your great grand daughter and her story and her growth. Tabitha Lynnia, only soon to turn sixteen has shaved the sides of her heads, stolen a dagger, horse, rapier, and several—. Wait. Tabitha Lynnia? Ta Lynn? Taylynn? Holy frigging hell!
Every atom of my being vibrates in anxious anticipation of each turn of the page, waiting to see if Taylynn ever returns home. I mean, I hope, err, I think it’s Taylynn, you always only refer to her as Tabitha, no indication of if she told you her preferred name. Come on, red hair, short on the sides, long on top, noblewoman who runs off seeking adventure? Who else could it be? Especially when her name is basically right there. She does return home, for a time, a few years after having left, she's about twenty at that point. She mostly returned to see her great grandmother, the originator of this noble household, the keeper of these diaries. She shares stories of adventure, making a name for herself, without leaning on her family name. She’s not without her foibles, a bit spoiled, and a bit used to being somewhat pampered, slightly hot-headed, ready to draw-blade at almost the drop of a hat. She has fallen in love with a tavernkeep’s daughter. Wait. Woah. She returns home less and less over the years.
She never mentions the name of the tavern, or tavernkeeper, or tavernkeeper’s daughter, probably hoping to prevent the rest of her family of learning about it, in the hopes of preventing them from interfering. Great grandmother is fairly understanding, if a little perplexed. Yes granny, that means no children, so no great great grand Taylynn’s or whatever. Oh no. Your heart condition worsens as age catches up with you, and the city you’ve helped build up in—. Wait, how did I miss that!? Koff. Alta Vista of Jeegoobotstan. I, wait, but. Okay, okay, let’s, let’s just try to figure this out. Summer home in oh wow. The glades of the Jaggedefen Marsh. This is where she’s going to live out her scant remaining years. She. I.
What a remarkable woman. Gulp. When did I start crying so much? Wait, have I read dozens of diaries dating back over a hundred years already? Oh no! How long have I been reading!? I dash away from the desk, out of this bubble, with tears streaking behind me. I crumple in the darkness of the bubble room, hyperventilating and weeping. No wonder the Sister warned me. My heart. It, it feels broken even more than it already was. Poor Taylynn, her family, her great grandmother.
I don’t know if she’s still alive out there. I know where the summer home is though, and it’s near the hydra’s stomping grounds. If I somehow save Dawn and make it through this myself, I’ll go pay granny a visit. Maybe see if Taylynn ever stopped by since June. Gosh. I’m just. I feel wrecked. How long was I reading? What Bud? Your brain feels mushy? How does that even—? I don’t even know. Do you want me to leave you with Teuila or Dawn while I read these? I don’t want your brain hurting because of my studying. You’re sure? Okay. Wow I’m hungry though, I must have been reading for hours and hours. I feel like a complete arsehole for spending so much time reading a diary that didn’t mention a single thing about magic academies or spells or anything.
Alright, let’s get back to it now that I’ve had a bite to eat and a pint to drink. Huff. Nope. Next. Nope. Next. Why do you have so many of these ridiculous scrying points set up on such trivial places? Huff. I’m not actually upset at the Sisters, it’s just frustrating not finding what we need to save Dawn. What else do we have. Huff, nope. Oh this one is interesting.
The Libram Solis, huh. A soul’s connection to the sun helps it maintain purity? Something something, this that and the other thing, huh. Well, not like we’ll be getting Dawn any sun in here, or anywhere on Rayileklia honestly. It doesn’t mention anything about breaking curses on souls either. In fact, it seems mostly fairytale and conjecture. Oog. I’m hungry again? But. What? I just ate. I stumble back to the bubble room, and I feel weak all over, as if I’ve been running marathons for days. I stagger away from the darkened room, and have to virtually crawl along the wall to make it back to our bedchamber.
Teuila spies me crawling in and launches herself at me, crying, “Airhead! Where have you been!? It’s been like, days! The Sisters said you were reading, but, but you have to at least sleep you big dingus! Dawn really wants to talk to you, soon.”
I cough, my throat inexplicably dry and cracked. Fishing out my main waterskin, I find it empty, and my backup. I fish around for my food, and most of it is gone as well. I know for a fact that whoever has this hyperdimensional haversack equipped is the only one who can seek the things in its extradimensional space. Have I been eating and drinking that much? Was it really days? More memories are flooding back to me. Woah. I read a lot more than I consciously remembered reading. Poetry about souls, novels about spirits and ghosts, the rare occasional spellbook. I’ve been studying for possibly a week or something.
I cough again before nuzzling into Teuila. I apologize, “The, koff, the Sister warned me, that time flies while studying. She was right. I read so much. So, so, so so much. So much useless stuff. Huff. I’m sorry Te. I didn’t mean to be gone so long, I didn’t even notice it. I love you. Is Dawn okay?”
Teuila frets as she drags me to bed, “Well, kind of. She’s at her wit’s end. She’s scared Air, real scared. I haven’t learned jack in the last few days, still barrelling through these books, only able to translate a little here or there. I got enchantments from some of them, and stuff, but, well, I’m still trying to really, really read them, all of them. The ones that are just books, like The Apex of Divinity, I can read those just fine, but the big enchanty ones, I want to know what the runes are, what they did to me.”
I nod along with Teuila, as she snags a pitcher to hand to me. I greedily gulp down the water within, draining the entire pitcher before panting in exhaustion. Teuila blinks rapidly, stunned at my voracious thirst.
Te comments, “Woah, you musta been reading non stop. Anyway, tomorrow I’m going to go foraging, and get us some more water. I’ll fill all of our stuff. Still have plenty of Can’Z’aas digital fish if you need, over in the big pack love. You look awful though. Get some sleep, yeah?”
I nod at Teuila absentmindedly. Dawn appears in the doorway, and Teuila motions her inside. My wrists and forearms ache like heck. The muscle groups from my left mandible joint all the way down to my left hip burn and pinch agonizingly. It’s all I can do to fitfully pass out as I’m held by My Wings, and My Friend.
I awaken, groggily, to an empty bed. Dawn is hunched in the doorway, sobbing. I rush over, despite my body screaming at me to continue to rest off its pain. Once I arrive, Dawn latches on to me, and I nearly choke.
She whimpers, “My, my stupid power. Rej, mine is close. Hours, maybe minutes. Boss aint going to be back. Rej, Rej it’s coming. I’m so scared. I’m so scared. I don’t wanna go. I don’t want to not be remembered. I don’t wanna leave you or Boss behind. I don’t wanna disappear without Boss or you close. Please pal, don’t go, please stay with me. Please. Please. I’m begging you Rej. You aint gonna find anything in time. Please, please stay with me. End me if you can, please. Hell, trap me in, in eternal pain, something, anything.”
I end up choking on my tongue as tears stream down my cheeks. I wrap Dawn up in a tight embrace. I wasted so much time. I should have been there for her. I should have been here. I can’t deny her this request. I’ve failed her. We sit, sobbing in each other’s arms as the moments tick by into minutes. I can barely breathe. It feels like my whole world is shattering. My throat is swollen to the point of being almost totally closed off, the neckchain is the only reason I’m able to breathe at all.
Dawn mumbles while begging, “Rej, Rej, they’re going. My senses. I can feel it. Please, please end me somehow. Please don’t let me be trapped senseless during my last bit. Please pal, please kill me before—.”
I await Dawn’s finishing of her plea while fighting off choking on my own tongue and mucus. I ramble in response, “Dawn, I don’t know if I can do this. Oh no. Dawn? Dawn are you, are you still, can you even hear or respond or anything? No, please Dawn. No.”
My tears rush forth in an unstoppable cascade. She wants me to kill her, or to use that horrid spell, but I don’t even know how to do it in a way that will save the ancestors, or save our memory of her, either one. We have no idea if the soul spell would even help, or if it would just place her into that agonizing prison for what little time she has left. Plus, I haven’t even mastered most of the runes. And we don’t even have a gem big enough to do the soul trapping. There’s just so much wrong with it.
I take out my staff to utilize its aura sensing magics once more. No, oh no. Her soul, there’s minuscule fragments left. What’s the right choice? What can I even do? My friend. My friend that I’ll never even remember having had. You don’t deserve history writing you off as never having existed, as entirely nothing. Wait. My, my gift is nothing? Crap, crap crap. Friggin’ Sister was right. Of course. Obviously. But, but. Shiznit. Fudgesickles. Poop on a scoot. How the hell do I—? What do I do with nothing? I have to hurry! There’s barely a thread left of Dawn’s soul!
Someone, please, someone please give me some sort of guidance, anything. I’ll, I’ll try anything. It can’t end like this. Dawn, I’m, I’m so sorry I made you put your faith and trust in me. I’ve failed you. That last infinitesimally small fragment of your soul is about to be reduced to, to nothing. The word again, the concept of nothing. What sort of use of nothing does my gift entail? Teuila, over time, has been able to get gravity to respond to her almost as positively or as negatively desires, both upon herself, and those around her, at least within range of her touch. I haven’t practiced! I, I don’t. I haven’t leveled it up, or, or, trained it, or, or anything. Is it even powerful enough to save Dawn right now, if I can even figure out a way to use it?
I don’t even know how to kill Dawn in a way that stops the spell. What were the conditions of the spell, it only fails if she’s reduced to nothing anyway? I sob, gulping back mucus. I think I know what Dawn would believe I should do, if I could even do it. I think I know what Dawn would want me to do that is, mostly anyway. If I could reduce her to nothing, she’ll never have existed on Rayileklia at all. I can only hope that through some-. Wait. A new thought. But would that break the spell? If, if I could. If I could make it so that she was never on Rayileklia. That her presence here was nothing. But instead her presence was on Can’Z’aas? Can, can I send her through nothing? Can I send her through time? Will I remember her? Will it break the spell?
I, I think there’s two things I can do now. I’m pretty sure. If I could figure out how to use my gift on her, I could reduce her to nothing, all the way back through her timestream, maybe. I think I’d have to have it levelled up a lot more though to be able to pull it off. The other thing is maybe I can move her, or part of her to nothing, or through nothing. Like, through the void. I don’t know the outcome of either one. I reach out to touch what’s left of Dawn’s soul, the last few particles being woven into the fabric of the magic of Rayileklia’s reality. I grasp tightly, and I think I send what few particles I manage to feel hurtling through nothing, the direction in which I hope Can’Z’aas lies.
I hope. Some day. Some day she might be reborn there. If, if that tiny speck, that fragment of a soul ever reaches Can’Z’aas across the vast infinite cosmos. If its minuscule, atomic form can be nurtured back into a full soul if it ever reaches. I wasn’t able to reduce her history here to nothing though. That’s too big. She affected more lives than she knew. History, experience, it’s a lot to wipe away. I was only able to send those tiny specks of her soul. Or maybe I didn’t even succeed in that. Who can measure and track about three atoms of soul energy?
The threads that were already stripped away, they’re still here. They’re drifting up into the weaving that makes up the magical fabric of reality. No, no! How do I stop it then!? Dawn’s body is disintegrating in my arms, turning to dust. No, no! I refuse! I don’t want to forget her! You can’t take this, you can’t take this away from me! She might never have existed, but I refuse to give up on her memory! She’s not just nothing!
I break down, sobbing into the ashes of her now fading form. The dust turns to mud beneath me, and even that begins to fade from existence. I failed her. I couldn’t help her. I failed her and all the Aasimovian ancestors. Uh oh. Looks like even more bad news for Reggie Shellcracker. That magical weave is following along that weird microscopic red thread that tied me to Dawn, tugging at that thread. It might take me along with her to finish the spell. Fuuuuu—. Wait. I can’t give up. I can’t stop, won’t stop. There is nothing the woven magic can take from me. Between myself and this ethereal coalescence is empty space. It’s as meaningless as pictures on the back of my eyelids. My, my eyelids?
I don’t entirely have the right terminology. My gift, my, my aptitude, my affinity, nothing and emptiness aren’t quite the right terms. Or if they are, I’m not applying them correctly. Oh, oh I screwed up even more than I thought. If those fragments, those atoms of Dawn’s soul even still exist, they’ll be trapped in the void forever. There is no time in the void, no space, no travel speed, no motion.
I shut my eyes tightly once more, crushing back the tears. I see frenetic imagery cast by the remnants of traces of light along the inside of my eyelids. They paint pictures of soaring quickly through technicolor tunnels, or riding the waves of reality. They’re meaningless though, they’re nothing. That one, that one doesn’t quite work, at least not yet. I’m not sure what it’s supposed to do, but it’s, it’s not part of this fight. In fact. It is a fight. Screw you magic of Rayileklia. You want to try to take a friend from me? How about I reduce you to nothing to take you out of existence itself!
The grip on the remaining thread ends. It recoils before it can grasp whatever ethereal clutch had been holding my last ties to Dawn, the barest hint of that red thread. I remember her. That’s all I succeeded in doing. I succeeded in remembering her. I don’t even know if anyone else does. This, this tiny fragment, it’s not even her soul, not even a tiny slice of it, it’s, it’s something weird that bound her to me. It’s part of the loom of fate? Rather than the weave of magic? Somehow that feels right. Magic was trying to take even that, to add it to its woven tapestry. At least, at least I managed to save this. This tiny scrap of fate itself. I may not have even sent the tiniest fragments of her soul anywhere. The only thing I can be sure of is my hold on this smallest thread of fate. My memory of her.
Wait. Did I just intimidate magic itself? Dot dot dot. Mental ellipses. Brain bluescreen. Reggie Shellcracker. What the hell even are you? Huh, I’ve been asked that a few times in my life already.