Teuila marvels over Dippy picking up cobblestones to snack on, “Huh, so you guys really do eat dirt and rocks. I thought it was a metaphor for how badly the dwarves were treating you. Eat dirt is a saying.”
Dippy’s response is informative and comical, “Yes, yes, the, the warrior woman Tay Oo Ee Lah is, is right. But, but, how else would you get rid of big long tunnels with nowhere to put rough? Still, rocks, rocks better, rocks are better than dirt, metal, ores are better than rocks, gem is better than metal, ores. Can, can live on rocks mostly, some kinds, but, unpleasant.”
Teuila sees me flagging again, and signals for us to take a break and make camp for the moment. I truly appreciate her. She eyes me with worry, making certain I’m not about to pass out in a pool of my own blood before she scampers off to scout our surroundings for safety. Getting jumped by killer dwarves when we’re unprepared could be bad news. Especially if the kobold clan was right about their boom sticks. We’ve already seen explosives, so firearms aren’t really out of the question around here. Would rather not get my head taken off by someone sniping me for being near a kobold. I really don’t want Dippy to get killed for being out and about without obvious tribute either.
Dippy comments on some of my gear, “The, the armor, good armor, it’s good, strong, magic, fits, fits perfect. Same, but different. But staff and, and, and that, different even more. They are, they’re different magic, different makers.”
I raise an eyebrow, trying to parse what Dippy’s talking about. Oh, I get it. Yeah, the enchantment on the Valkyrie armor, for some reason, it looks entirely different on scaled or draconic forms, like it did when I was a bipedal dragon. I could probably freak Dippy out by performing that transformation, but that would be mean to Dippy, and painful for me. Still, the other two things? Oh, my staff in its holster, and my double-barreled crossbow. Speaking of crossbows, Dawn wields one, but there’s been no sign of them since we split up.
I wish I knew where Dawn was, they said they would catch up to us in a couple of days, and it has been a few. We didn’t exactly stay on our own plotted course either. It’s easy to imagine that we might never cross paths again if we’re both roaming about Rayileklia, unsure where the other had gone. I’m not sure how well the weird tether between our souls works from greater and greater distances, and I’m not even sure which string leads to Dawn, since there are several. I couldn’t keep track because I don’t always have the aura vision spell from the staff running.
Dippy is still asking about my double-barreled wrist-mounted hand crossbow, with the apparently anti-undead enchantment. I do my best to respond, “Sorry Dippy pal, I couldn’t give this to you, it’s sort of stuck to my soul, something bad would happen if I parted with it, I think. Most of my belongings are, actually.”
Dippy asks, “No give? No give, is okay, it’s okay, no give is okay. Dippy doesn’t need, Dippy, I can make. Can Dippy, me, I see to make? Dippy, that’s me, I’m me. I, me. Can I see to make?”
Dippy, like most of the kobolds, apparently struggles to refrain from referring to himself in the third person, since their native language is some offshoot of Draconic apparently. I wonder if I should tell him that I don’t mind, or if that would only make it worse. I hand it to him, pointed away from him, for safety and assurance that he won’t accidentally hurt himself, and we both sit down as he looks the crossbow over and over. Zippy flits about, the excitable little being that he is, landing on the crossbow, startling Dippy from his intensely focused observation. In his startlement, Dippy somehow manages to fire the crossbow, both barrels suddenly teeming with mana as the energy bolts spring to life, while it’s still aimed directly at my torso.
I sigh and roll my eyes as I’m skewered through, guess where, my right freaking lung, again. I should just get it removed at this point. I probably shouldn’t be so flippant, it hurts like hell, and I could die if I don’t close up the wounds pretty quickly. Hm, the energy bolts seem to have cauterized their entry and exit points at the very least. Now Dippy is panicking, afraid I’m going to retaliate and shoot him in the chest. I roll my eyes at this as well, and give him a pat on his forehead. I hope it doesn’t seem patronizing, I just want him to know he’s forgiven already, that there’s nothing to freak out about. I just can’t risk talking, or really breathing. I don’t need a lungful of blood on Rayileklia.
Oh, oh crap, oh no. I’m, I’m falling. Asleep. Passing out. No, no, bad Reggie, stay awake, stay awake, you need to, to.
The lass is daft, and yet, here I am, acquiescing. I don’t think I’ve ever in my life just strolled down a street like this. Worse, without my face hidden. Yet Sel wanted it so desperately, I couldn’t deny her. It’s not being seen with her, or affectionately holding hands that sets me at unease, obviously. It’s being seen at all, having a face that could be remembered if a witness catches a glance. She knows damn-well I’m an assassin. Anonymity is one of the few things keeping me from the gallows. I’m not known anywhere. Well, I wasn’t known anywhere outside the realms of the Hidden, in the Heart of the Wilds, and the Vale.
I suppose it’s nice to have made friends. That is such a soft thing to say. Gramps is right, I’m going to get myself killed by going soft. Still. I don’t think I could give up on Selunie or Taylynn even if I wanted to at this point. Nor San Tiago, nor even the strange outlander near The Brook. That one, Dawn I think, actually hinted they wanted to travel, specifically with me. I had to feign ignorance at their hints. I know they’re bored, but traveling alongside an assassin, even with as stealthy as they’ve become over the years, it just spells trouble.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Well, I suppose Dawn doesn’t really fear trouble. What an odd, well, not life. Poor soul. Or perhaps lack thereof. I don’t know anything of the sort. Perhaps it’s some sort of persistent malady, some kind of poison that slows their vital functions so much, while preserving them. Won’t really buy into curses of immortality, but they seem pretty convinced of it at least.
Selunie is practically, no, literally bouncing with each step we take. Gorrammit lass, your cheer is infectious, and far too noticeable. Eyes are on us. I count about twenty eyes currently, between windows, stoops, and passersby. She’s so pure, innocent, loving. Why on Rayileklia does this woman bed someone so dark and brooding? Someone so steeped in the blood of others that I’ve begun to lose count? I suppose that last bit is facetious. Two thousand two hundred eleven. That’s how many people’s lives I’ve taken. It’s not a proud point, honestly. As long-lived an assassin as I am, it’s not impressive. As a human being with the capacity to care for others, it’s a terrifying atrocity. Still, I don’t exactly mope about it. I’ve rarely harmed anyone that might be able to be considered innocent.
I’d never bloody my blade on someone such as Selunie. Even if it spelled my capture and demise. Feh, I truly have gone soft. Time was, even the idea of being in any form beholden to someone, even in a pleasurable relationship, I knew my duty would be to kill them to cover my tracks if necessary. Huff.
Selunie points out a flower shop and drags me along to simply literally stop and smell the roses. So damned pure and innocent.
When I come to, Dippy is trying to pass breaths into my mouth, and I almost laugh at how ineffectual it is, since his draconic snout doesn’t have lips to form a seal. I tap his forehead and lightly shove him off of me. Teuila is returning, and Dippy is freaking out. I’m surprised the mana bolts passed right through the Valkyrie armor, it’s almost like some sort of, holy doesn’t harm holy sort of effect. The crossbow is supremely effective against undead, and the Valkyrie armor, well, it’s all majesty in its radiant splendor. Plus, Valkyries were essentially angels, guiding warrior souls to Valhalla, so, holy there too. I’ll have to make a note of the interaction of the bolts and the armor. That might come up later.
It’s obvious that I’ve been bleeding, but it was probably difficult for Dippy to pack my wound at all, since I’m still armored. There’s some moss, leather, and paper shoved into various joints in my armor. It might have been helpful? I’m not certain. Divesting the armor, I gasp as the acidic drizzle hits the small holes in my chest. Huff, huff, huff, holy crap that hurt. Well, I’m pretty sure the wounds are disinfected. Oh my stars that was ridiculously painful. I grab the cleanest, driest fabric I can to quickly wrap around my torso before I pass out again from the pain.
Dippy’s saying something. He retrieves a twig from the jumble of stuff attached to his shield. It looks a bit like a wand actually. I’m not sure if it’s metal or wood as my vision blurs woozily. The tip of the wand glows, and Dippy aims it right for my perforated chest. I feel something that’s simultaneously ethereal, yet solid, block up the holes. It’s an intensely uncomfortable experience, like when my jugular had to be patched by Elder Winter of the cat tribe. It’s almost as if there’s magical plant matter, or solid mana just sort of sitting in the entry and exit wounds. I suppose that’s essentially healing, it at least stops the bleeding. Since I’m Can’Z’aasian, I should be able to regenerate the tissue overnight from such small wounds.
Dippy looks mortified as he turns towards Teuila as she returns to camp. I’m pretty sure he’s begging her forgiveness, but I can’t actually make out sounds for some reason. Oh hey, speaking of my jugular, now that part of my body’s blood flow is cut off, it’s twitching like crazy. More intensely uncomfortable experiences.
Teuila gives Dippy a combination hug and noogie then rushes to my side. My head lolls weakly towards her, and she lifts it into her lap. She makes sure her poncho covers my torso and face as she hovers over me. Looks like it’s a good time to take that nap I was going to take. Hello darkness, my old friend.
“You just can’t stay away. Can you?”
Hm? Oh no. I’m being am again. Shoot. Sorry. Did I undie, then un-undie? There’s laughter. Void, the Ceaseless Schism finds me humorous at least, I think. There’s an undercurrent of annoyance, but also simultaneously a sort of, investment? An investment in my wellbeing? It’s hard to be well when dead, floating in a void.
The darkness of the un-universe roils and cascades, somehow it reminds me of a head being shaken as a negative response. Void, the Ceaseless Schism says, “You are beyond dramatic and broken. Our agreement.” The darkness pulses, flinging me through the emptiness of the non. It’s reminiscent of an exasperated sigh. Void, the Ceaseless Schism continues, “Our agreement, tenuous though it is, stands. You need not visit so frequently. Eventually you will see from behind your eyes. Remember them. Eventually. Now, go. Wake up!”
Though it shouts with an unrelenting force born of an otherworldly anger, there are layers to the voice of this un-universe. Concern, indignation, humor. Its ability to express so much with two simple shouted words is an alien experience that worms its way through the whole of the non-me. I cease to be am as I’m sent back once more.
“Blurghle whurgle flurtz, gablobble. Hrk ‘n’, ’n’ stuff. Who? Oh, hi Te.”
She shakes her head, laughing, “Only you my Dink, only you. Not sure who I pity more, you, or poor Dippy over there who thought I was going to kill him. I knew you wouldn’t die from a couple little shots. But, well, did they seriously tear all the way through you?”
I stretch my jaw as I regain my senses, “Hm? Oh, oh, yes. They, um. It was weird though. You know how a wide radius around the bolts sort of atomized bone when I shot them at undead? Nothing like that on me. So, like, the damaging magical properties of the bolts didn’t happen, just like getting skewered through with two knitting needles.”
Teuila grimaces as she responds, “Oof, still. I’m glad you’re okay love. If you died from something so, so, so dumb, I don’t know, I’d resurrect you just to beat you up.”
I snirk, then snort back a laugh and gulp a breath as I nod. I’m fairly certain if it were possible, Teuila would do exactly as she just claimed. I reach up to stroke her cheek as I smile up into her eyes.
I simply agree aloud, “I know Te, I know. I love you too.”