One of the odd things about the Enclave is, other than Jarrah’s chamber being at its top, which landing which room is on seems to change almost daily. Do I dare rush back up several flights and landings towards Jarrah’s chamber? I’ve a feeling that it’s massively warded.
The woman breaks the silent standoff first, “They really do let just anyone in here don’t they. Ugly, petulant little changeling worm child, this, this is the wielder of your brother that you’ve been nagging me to meet? His standards are lower than dirt. Dirge, you’re barely worth the mess you bring by the hand full. You! Cross swords with me. Dirge wants to reunite with her brother. I can’t think of a better way. Maybe I’ll earn a second artifact by impressing Lullaby and squashing your flatulent arse. Oh, and it wasn’t a request.”
She draws on me, leveling Dirge, Requiem for the Wounded my direction. I gulp. She’s an imposing presence physically, but how’s her magical resistance? Her armor is definitely enchanted to help with things of that nature, but what about natively? Can I survive eight minutes? Hoy! Okay, danger wraps are still going strong, good. Yeah, eight minutes from now, Dirge and that armor are going to be on Can’Z’aas. She is far too dangerous. Sorry Lullaby. I slip my finger into the suit of armor in my belt pouch, instantly gearing up in Valkyrie armor.
Lullaby sends humorous, relieved waves of emotion my way, and a smidgen of ambivalence about Dirge’s fated location. As I continue dodging about the landing and up the steps, I try to plot my course and my spell in case I have to send it through Lullaby, through Dirge. I flip aerially over her and dance downwards, trying to draw her out of the Enclave where she won’t hurt anyone. She doesn’t care at all if she kills a bystander in this duel.
She scowls and calls out, “Hold still you dancing rotten turd, and draw!” she swings wide as I leap while growling, “your!” she reaches a gauntleted hand for where I’ll land, but I nudge myself aside with my phantom magic hand from my potent staff in its shrunken, hidden state, she finishes, “weapon!” My spell barely has enough force to nudge me through the air just out of reach of her hand.
I gulp as I continue bating her, staying only slightly out of range of most of her thrusts and swings as I retreat down the staircase. I call out, “Duel in progress, evacuate the stairwell!” I repeat it every few landings as I continue backing away from her. She’s fast, and those strikes would obliterate me in an instant. Huff. I don’t know if I can keep this up for the rest of the eight minutes. Come on, come on Reggie. Lullaby, any chance you cou— Hah! Thank you pal!
Lullaby eases my path by creating a handrail guided ramp under me for a moment while moving the excess wood in front of the crazed woman’s next step, causing her to stumble. His powers are so, so, so much more potent than I originally understood when he described them to me.
She spits, and I begin to truly hear Dirge for the first time as she sings through the air, literally. Lullaby is flashing warning and caution into my mind louder and louder on repeat. I, I can’t. If they connect, I die. Instantly. I’m an already wounded individual. She’ll sound my funeral dirge in an instant. That's her power, she slays the wounded to put them to rest, to sing their final song. If Teuila has so much as a scratch on her, could it kill her instantly too? I begin to hyperventilate as I gulp and fight back tears. Who the hell made this woman a royal guard? Huff. Right, archfey, capricious arseholes, of course. Huff, huff. Crap crap crap. Just, just a few, few more minutes. Oh gods. Oh gods that was close. Thank you Lullaby. Holy crap.
Lullaby continues to occasionally interfere with the ever so slightest alterations in the travel path I take down the staircase, aiding me and attempting to cause Dirge’s wielder to falter. The woman actually stows Dirge as she lunges for me, bare handed. Her fingertips grip at the edges of some of the fabric of my under-armor clothing. Thankfully the clothing itself shifts out from her grasp as I continue backing away. She’s so fast, and strong. Crap crap crap. Do I want Teuila to get involved if I can even find her? Do I want Dawn to help? Hrp. No no no!
Whew, okay, I may be bleeding light and life while concentrating, but being slick with blood is saving my arse. She nearly crushed my larynx, but I’m still slick with my own gore from whatever I’d been doing in Jarrah’s chamber, on top of trying to conjure my inventory powers at the moment. Her squeezing my throat ended up simply firing me away like an old bean beneath the flat of a blade. I can’t even remember how or why I was bleeding back in Jarrah’s chamber this time. I must have overdone it something fierce.
Lullaby sends confusion my way. He doesn’t understand why I don’t remember what happened. As he tries to remind me of my train of thoughts, it’s like a siren blares in my head between his communication and my mind. Blood pours out my ears as my eardrums are blown and I’m left reeling, stumbling downwards as my ears ring worse than ever. I’m, I’m. No, no! Stay focused. Stay conscious! No, no no no. Please Reggie. Just a bit longer.
Tears well up in my eyes as I fear letting myself and my loved ones down in this moment. Is this woman part of the manxome foe’s influenced force? Somehow I get the feeling this is just her natural state. I. I’m scared. Should I chance nuking the stairwell with a rain of fireballs? Something about her armor though, I worry it might absorb magic and enhance her even further. I cast the aura sensing spell, and try to get a grip on the internal makeup of the enchantments on her. So so so so dangerous while trying to dodge her.
I’m right. My genre senses once again. The armor has a vast myriad of enchantments, though it has the downside of amplifying the wearer’s emotions, specifically rage and battle-lust. Fan-freaking-tastic. Well at least she’s not normally quite so bloodthirsty. She still might be willing to kill me though. Especially after I steal her armor and weapon. Almost to open space, almost, please please please.
Kids, children, innocent Enclave members milling about! I shout through a ragged sob with tears in my eyes, “Evacuate! Duel in progress!”
There are screams and the milling about becomes a panicked stampede of disarray. Alanea is gazing my way wide-eyed in horror. She quickly gathers her students and rushes them away outside, managing to calm the stampede and direct it to safety. I would effing fall in love with that woman if I saw her doing that while in any other situation. It's stunning seeing her maintain level-headedness in order to save children, despite her own obvious fear. Even more stunning was her calming presence, and ability to instantly take charge of the crowd and the situation. That aura about her that I noticed when I first met her. She's a nurturer, a caretaker. She's almost full to the point of bursting with love to spare.
I gulp as I try not to crumple in on myself. My muscles are aching and quivering. Is this part of Dirge’s song? Would I normally be this afraid? The amount of emotion amplification surrounding this woman is insane. Still, I’m absolutely terrified, and I doubt I’d be all that much less frightened without the enchanting auras.
Seven, huff, seven minutes thirty seconds, thirty one, thirty two. Huff. Oh gods. Please, please keep it together Reggie. You avoided the mistake of charging her up by casting at her while she’s in that armor, but you’re going to die if you don’t keep it together for another twenty five seconds, twenty four, twenty three. Come on, come on, almost there. I need to let her close in on me only in that last second.
She rocks my skull with a haymaker that sends me flying. My cranium is left uncrushed only thanks to the incredibly potent Valkyrie armor, its helmet specifically. Her strength, she could shatter boulders, castle walls, she’s easily Teuila’s equal or stronger. Glp. Hrp. Oh gods the whiplash. I’m going to be sick. Fifteen, fourteen. I whimper as tears of fear stream down my face. She closes in while I scrabble away, trying to return to my feet. Lullaby helps me up by ramping the floor beneath me slightly, then returning it to its original position so I can flee in that direction. Thank you. Thank you so much pal.
Ten, nine. She’s about to draw Dirge again. No no no, too dangerous. I surprise her by dashing back towards her to fire an uppercut into her jaw before retreating once more. She’s mostly unharmed, but stunned and confused just long enough for her attention to waver. She returns to trying to grip me with both hands. Five, four. I slow, flagged, exhausted, my muscles quivering from exertion and fear. Three, two. She catches me with both hands, locks an arm around my neck with one, and reaches to draw Dirge from her back once more. One, zero. I touch the haft of Dirge with one hand that now bears Lullaby shrunken down, and as much of her armor with my body and other free hand as I can. Hrp.
I was afraid of this. Soul binding. Please, please work, please work. I push the inventory spell attempt through Lullaby, through his soulful connection to his sister, hoping that, like with Teuila and her bracers, a soul connection has Rayileklia and inventory magic relent. The instant is extended into agonizing slow motion as Dirge is drawn by her hand, and Dirge’s blade nears my face. My brain itself feels like it's being rent asunder by my own attempt to use my magic, as if I'm clawing out fragments of my skull, grabbing and stretching brain matter from here all the way to Can'Z'aas.
As Dirge nears my face, she disappears, and so does the armor cladding the woman. The mana sickness pouring out of me takes its toll. I’ve bled too much, my muscles are far too strained. I collapse in her grasp, passing out, leaving me at her mercy.
I awaken to the sounds of an earthshaking brawl. I sniffle as blood trickles from my eyes, nose, and ears. I was definitely being squeezed recently, squeezed to death. I'm fairly certain that my helmet is nearby and that a fist found my cranium several times. I barely have enough fluids to permit me to cry. I know this clashing of might. Teuila’s here. She saved me. She saved me again. I burst into what few tears my body permits me to cry. Lullaby actually has a root roll slightly, bringing me to the base of the Enochian Enclave’s tree. A faucet appears, valve fully open, water pouring over my face and into my mouth. I gulp it down hungrily, greedily. Its sweetness and purity both feel revitalizing, though that may just be the effects of fighting off dehydration.
Lullaby is trying to explain that his powers are strongest in forests, and strongest of all in his homeland, this forest in particular. He won’t have nearly as much control over terrain elsewhere. It’s okay buddy. What’s that? Oh, I get it. He’s basically saying he’s glad Dirge didn’t catch us by surprise on rocky terrain. He’d have been unable to offer almost any help, and Dirge would be stronger in an echoing area, or even just in heavy-winds, windy echoing caves would be the worst. That makes sense. Lullaby is the Requiem for the Windless Wilds after all. Huff, whew. Okay, okay, enough water, I’m going to dro— oh wait. I can’t drown. In that case, keep it coming. Thank you Lullaby.
Good gods, I never thought I’d meet someone who could match Teuila in raw strength that wasn’t some sort of colossal monster. They’re still going at it. Teuila is much faster, moving about quicker than my eyes can keep up with, but the pure resilience of this woman leaves her standing against all of Te’s attacks, despite the bruises marring her face and body. Huff, huff. There’s a crowd gathering at the moment. I can’t risk any area effects. Frack. What do I have that’s single target?
Lullaby suggests trying all five runes of that basic spell again. Really? But I’ve botched the fifth rune pal. Okay, okay, no need to insist. I’ll do my best. Oh no! Te! Oh my god. The woman wised up to her leaps, sidestepped, and smashed Teuila into the ground hard, cratering her as Teuila was zooming in to land another attack. She’s stepping on Teuila, pinning her down. Why isn’t Teuila reversing her gravity to throw her off? Oh my god Te, Te please be okay. Concentrate Reggie, concentrate. Huff, huff, panting with exertion, my muscles still quivering from the strain of my earlier flight, I work my runes. Lullaby, he's helping me craft them more quickly, but it's sapping him somehow. One, two, three, four.
I beg all that’s good in the world to aid me. Five. I smile through tears. It’s a simple, small spell, barely an evocation effect at all. A thin line, a ray forms between me and my target. Frost travels along this ray, forming an icy spike. Huff, whew. The frost travels along the ray with the force of a crossbow bolt, and the spike drives home into the woman’s right shoulder, rocking her backwards, knocking her off balance, and off of Teuila. Te groans and rolls out from the crater that had been formed from her impact. I begin rapidly repeating the five runes, over and over and over. I feel Lullaby weakening somehow, but my sadness, rage, and wrath win out over my compassion for my friend. Bolt after bolt after bolt of frost slam into this woman, leaving her with minor wounds, and slowly covering her with frost. She drops to her knees as she raises her forearms to block further bolts. This also blocks her sight of me. I finally have a second to equip my crossbow and fire several test shots into her raised arms. As I feared, they do almost nothing, they're like being pricked by a feather quill to her. Still, she hasn't seen what I'm using.
I struggle upwards, glance at Teuila, she nods at me, understanding my intent. We dash forward, sweep around to opposite sides, and aim our bare hands, save for the double-barreled wrist-crossbow now mounted on my arm, knife-edged at her throat, and we simultaneously scream, “Yield!”
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The woman’s muscles sag as she slumps while raising her hands. She grumbles, “Didn’t know I was facing a bedamned wizard that can send my gear away, and an ogre in disguise. If my armor was still on, you’d have regretted those spells, chump.”
I don’t doubt it. I had to spend eight minutes of tearful fear in order to avoid exactly that. I pant as I collapse to my own knees next to her. I rock back onto my butt and hug my knees to my chest, trembling. I, I did it. I did it! I learned a Rayileklian spell! I laugh through sobs as tears of relief flood my cheeks. I cough from the exertion on my throat. Between Jarrah’s singing incantation training, and the gasping for breath of the flight, my throat is torn up again.
The woman looks at me with disdain, incredulity. She grunts, “This a victory dance for you or something, pretend you’re vulnerable next to your defeated opponent? Can I get my gear back?”
My face contorts with incredulity momentarily. I frown at her while Teuila walks around her to my side. I grunt through a bloody esophagus in return, “No, no it isn’t, and no you can’t. Not until we’re leaving the Heart. I’ll leave them with someone I trust on the day I leave, likely midnight on the eleventh of July. Kindly screw you. You’re a demented, rage-fueled maniac that’s a menace, and a danger to everyone around her. Go friggin’ cool off. Don’t come back to the Enclave until the twelfth at the earliest. I’m serious. I will let my love, the Valkyrie here, kill you, if we see you again. The only reason you lasted as long as you did against her is because she was trying to be merciful on my standing orders. You hear that Te? If you see her again, restraints off, go all out.”
She groans as she shivers. She slowly picks herself up, and stalks angrily away. Teuila leaps at me, wrapping me up in her arms. Te has several broken bones, and she’s bleeding polygons from her face, and various gaps in her armor. Te demands, “What the hell was that about!?”
I fight a chuckle as I try to respond through more throat-torn scar tissue and blood, “Koff, that, koff, that woman was the wielder of Dirge, Requiem for the Wounded. She’s a royal guard, so we probably shouldn’t carry through on my threat to kill her, even if she does return. She had powerful sentient artifact equipment. Dirge, and this amazing crimson armor that shone like a drop of blood descending beneath a floodlight trained directly on it. Huff, phew.”
Teuila raises her eyebrows and prompts, “Had?”
I adopt a wry grin and do allow myself to chuckle, however painful it may be. I nod as I explain, “Yeah, had. I counted down the seconds as I set up a Can’Z’aasian magic subroutine to access my inventory. I was almost sure the items were soulbound, so in that subroutine I tried to continue imagining reaching through two souls that were already linked, to be able to do it. From me, through Lullaby, into Dirge, and thus her owner and her equipment. It knocked me out to use my Can’Z’aasian magic. I wasn’t sure if she would stop trying to kill me though, but it felt like my safest option. Her armor either reflected or absorbed magic, depending.”
Teuila shakes her head while clarifying, “No, no she didn’t stop. Apparently while she was crushing your unconscious body, Alanea came to get me. I was hanging out in the infirmary. Err, heh, I got a bit carried away with my training.”
She gazes me up and down and decides to continue explaining, “My gravity powers are getting stronger, so I made myself a lot heavier while exercising. Was trying to read three books at the same time too. I wasn’t doing too bad, but then I broke a couple fingers, and smashed my face into the floor real hard. I’ve got a heck of a shiner. Alanea and Flint weren’t there, so I was getting to know this tiny little pixie chap, Gerald something something. Nice guy, put my fingers in a splint and rubbed some gunk on my face. Obviously the splint is effed after that fight. My fingers fuggin’ hurt.”
I chuckle slightly, not at Teuila, but as I remember something the woman said, “She thought you were an ogre in disguise, hah. Gods Te, you are so strong. Thank you. Thank you for saving me. For always being so driven to struggle to be stronger, the strongest there is.”
Teuila pretends to be bashful about it, “Pshaw, weren’t no thing. Hehe. But jeeze Airhead, you’re just a freakin’ trouble magnet aren’t you? Or maybe it’s Lullaby? You said the lady had his sister Dirge?”
I nod while Lullaby sends apologetic waves my way. I try to share his thoughts, “Lull says he’s sorry if it’s his fault basically. He didn’t know we’d draw the attention of muggers who could kill me, or that his sister Dirge was possessed by such a crazed lunatic.”
Teuila raises an eyebrow but goes along with it, she offers a hand and claims, “Pleased to meet ya Lull, didn’t realize you were people, or, something.”
Lullaby has the nearby path extend the branch of a bush vaguely towards Teuila’s hand. He can’t quite shake her hand, since that’s not exactly what his powers are for, but he’s able to put a berry bush within her reach since showing us food is within his purview. Teuila’s face adopts an impressed expression. Lullaby sends pleased waves towards Teuila, though they don’t reach her.
Lullaby’s purview is making travel easier, that means showing where nearby food is, smoothening paths, pointing out nearby water, moving obstructions, things like that. In the Heart, that extends to bringing the food and water all the way to us, and actually shaping the path, and or obstructions that he moves. We’re both going to miss how massively broadly his talents can be applied here in the Heart.
I hope Lullaby doesn’t regret choosing to travel with me. He has been a massive aid already in our journey, especially in the Hidden at the Heart of the Wilds. I’m forever indebted to him. He sends waves of acceptance, ambivalence, anti-worry at me. I get it. Thanks pal. No worries to you too, yeah, I can tell you didn’t want to go with that crazy lady. Yeah, we’re cool. No worries.
Suddenly I hear Jarrah demanding, “Was blood spilled within or about my Enclave!?” The crowd immediately disperses, fleeing upon hearing Jarrah shout.
I blush as I admit, “Um, mostly mine Jarrah. I’m sorry. Mine, and a bunch of Teuila’s polygons and data, and um, maybe a few drops of that crazy royal guard lady when my spells hit her? Oh, I managed the fifth rune, all five, carefully one at a time, no crazy three at once or anything, I promise.”
He waves me off dismissively as he taps his chin. Jarrah mumbles, “I meant lives obviously. Vexing child is such a numbskullian nimrod. Sindred paid us a visit, and risked the wrath of the Enclave to start trouble? Someone in the courts must be desperate for something. What ever could she have—. Lullaby. She wanted Lullaby for her lord. One of the two of them is cooking something up. Possibly all four. Can never know when they’re working together, or at odds. Chaotic court nonsense. I’ll have no part of it. Having Dirge in one of their possessions already is bad enough, along with Balchar’s Flame, that accursed armor.”
I cough for Jarrah’s attention and blush as I explain, “Wellll, so, about Dirge and Balchar’s Flame. I, um, sort of sent them to my world.”
Jarrah’s crazed eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. He flubs, “You, you hwhat?” The aych sound before the double-eww is crazily exaggerated as he asks it.
I cringe nervously as I try to smile before explaining, “I, um. I sensed that the armor would screw any Rayileklian magic, or similar offensive spells or elemental attacks. My aura vision confirmed it amongst the runes enchanting the armor. So, uh, I took the eight minutes during our battle to summon my inventory magic from my world, in order to claim her equipment over to my world.”
Jarrah’s eyebrows raise and lower in opposing rhythm freakishly as he boggles. He queries, “Can you bring them forth, back from your world?”
I joke, “Do you have eight minutes to watch me bleed mana, light, and actual blood? And a few more minutes to watch over my unconscious form?”
Jarrah actually nods seriously, and beckons that I re-enter the Enclave. I was joking, but it’s true. I can do it how I said, so I don’t want to actually back out of it and piss Jarrah off. Teuila follows me, obviously worried that I have to tap back into my Can’Z’aasian magic again already. She’s not letting me out of her sight, no matter what Jarrah orders at the moment. The three of us journey to the top of the Enclave. While we do, we occasionally draw curious glances from those who heard what happened. Jarrah scowls when Teuila enters the chamber along with me, but says nothing as he observes her determined, challenging gaze. Dawn appears out of friggin’ nowhere, also looking frightfully determined. Jarrah blinks in mild surprise at that, and taps the walls of his chamber in confusion. I bet he's checking something like wards against the entry by any living thing that he doesn't permit. Dawn doesn't fall under that purview, heh.
I sigh as I have to call on Can’Z’aas magics once more. They’re going to straight up kill me one day if I can’t figure out a cure for the mana sickness. Hell, that could very well be my persistent malady that Tiago sensed. A malady that followed me through death and rebirth in an entire other realm. Persistent indeed. I heave a ragged sigh as I nurse my cracked ribs and raw throat, preparing to call the items back from my inventory. I knew claiming someone else’s equipment was tough to begin with, but the stress it put on my brain was pure agony. What’s going to happen with them now that I’ve claimed them temporarily?
After eight minutes of bleeding radiance, mana, and vitality, Teuila and Dawn both fretting the whole while, I pass out as I hear the pieces of equipment displace air as they apparate. I awaken later to a mixture of emotions being sent at me by Lullaby, and a very curious air about the chamber. There’s fascination, anger, surprise, curiosity, determination, worry, just so much of each emotion pouring out from nearly everyone in the room that it’s almost overwhelming. I cough from the strain of it all, loosing up a smidgen of sick and even more blood.
Teuila hugs me tightly, and even Dawn pats my head to ruffle my hair. My head lolls weakly about as I ask, “Did, did it work?”
Jarrah mumbles, mostly to himself, something along the lines of, “Something worked alright.”
I glance to Teuila who seems to be too overwhelmed with relief, unable to answer at the moment. I look towards Dawn who thankfully has mostly maintained her head. Dawn answers, “So, I don’t know much about weapons or armors with like, souls, or whatever the heck these ones had. But that one, those ones, I guess they don’t anymore. Or something like that at least. Old coot’s being cagey, but, I’ve been observing stuff for a real long time. Got some weird senses for certain things. Y’know? Anyway. Not even sure there’s much magic in them at all anymore.”
Ohhh holy crap. What was her name? What did Jarrah call her? Was it Sindred? She’s going to be pissed! Well, heh, erm, well, at least we won’t be around to deal with the fallout. Sorry Jarrah, sorry Enclave. I’m sure this is going to stir up some trouble for you. I’m truly sorry. No wonder Lullaby is fraught with such mixed emotions though. I, I. I kind of killed his sister, while trying to spare Sindred. Hellspit! I am so sorry buddy. Are you going to ever be able to forgive me?
Lullaby flashes a mixture of signals my way that I can’t parse, but he isn’t retreating from me, or shutting off our bond, or shutting me out, or shrinking on his own or anything. Hopefully we can clear the air between us at some point. Frickin’ heck. I. Crap on a cracker. What the hell does this even mean? If I claimed Lullaby, would he die too? That’s not something I ever want to test. He’s been nothing but awesome to me. He’s been great to me, and I killed his sister. Friggin’ hell I suck.
Jarrah shoos Teuila and Dawn to the side as he picks me up. He orders, “Divest, quick as you like, try on Balchar’s Flame and Dirge. Mayhaps their properties will respond for you, or some other curiosity will occur. I’m almost certain of what will happen. Yes, yes, curious indeed.”
My face contorts as I raise a brow towards Jarrah, but he refuses to elucidate further. Sighing, I disrobe as privately as I can in a dark corner, and don Balchar’s Flame. When it’s on, I lift Dirge and immediately feel sick. It’s like. It’s like they want to trade places with me. They want to come back to life at the expense of mine. My arms quiver and shake as I fall to my knees for the umpteenth time in however many days. Despite their desire, and the wave of sickliness I feel coming from them, I retain my life. More, there’s a strange echoing backlash at their desire, their attempt. They pay a price for even wanting, or trying to trade places. Their magics weaken further.
Jarrah comments, “Fascinating. It’s as if you’re inured to undeath by the powers of some patron archlich or some other rotter and whatnot. Yet that is not the source for your powers. Further, you’re neither a necromancer, nor a warlock, so you shouldn’t even have such patronage, nor abilities they normally grant. Each of you, stand perfectly still for a moment.”
Teuila looks confused and upset by his statement, since she just saw me fall to my knees. Now Jarrah’s ordering us all around? Wait, what’s. Ow. What’s happening? The room is doing something again. It, it could fast forward my panic attacks. Is, is it fast forwarding me? Me, Teuila, and Dawn? Me, Teuila, Dawn, and Jarrah?
My life flashes before my eyes, or rather, the month or two of it that I have left. I can’t discern any of the details, but I’m sent hurtling into my own future, even beyond the point when I should die from my malady. Further and further, years, decades, centuries. My eyes strain and my brain races to keep up with what’s passing in my mind’s eye. In the physical realm, Jarrah takes on several new wrinkles, and his hair thins. His muscles wizen ever so slightly. Neither Dawn nor Teuila seem to age or be affected whatsoever.
The effect ends, and I’m left gasping for breath and coughing. The effect then occurs again in reverse, and I vomit from the whiplash of it all. I’m left reeling with my head spinning as my eyeballs swim about in their sockets. Most of my muscles hang slack as I drool upon myself before crumpling to the floor.
Jarrah simply remarks, “Fascinating. Ageless as an undead. All three of you. That part's a bit surprising.”
I groan and complain, “I could have freaking told you that, my heart and soul are bound to a dragon, so I have their immortal longevity. Specifically a digital dragon, Lil. So is Teuila's.”
Jarrah shakes his head as he explains, “I’m sorry to say, but no. At least for you, you’ve been ageless since the very beginning. I’m very happy for you and your bond or whatever, now shut up a moment. Let me think. You truly are vexing, you know that, don’t you? Don’t answer that, shut up. Stay silent. Rhetorical. Ageless, abilities steeped in undeath, regenerative, memory of limb reattachment, near immunity to necrosis, yet not a lich or necromancer or warlock. What in all the fathomless depths ar— Fel hells. Be honest, have you ever contacted some elder being between realities? Some mindbending monstrosity? Some sleeping mind that lay slumbering, said to destroy all the cosmos should it awaken?”
I frown and grumble, “What, like some sort of Cthulian Cthonian half dragon half squid half man half calamity that slumbers in a realm with non-euclidian geometry? No, of course not. Hell, the gods of my world mentioned their elders, and I freaked out at the mere idea of their existence.”
I grit my teeth and try not to growl at him. If he weren’t so knowledgeable, and I wasn’t in such need of tutelage, I’d stalk out with how rude he is half the time. I suppose he’s foreign to the mortal realm, and manners are a tad alien to him. I can cut him some slack. Still, sucking me forward through my own timeline and then spitting me back out, and telling me to shut up after he asks me a question, bluh. Rude. Hell, he just clucked his tongue at my answer and is now chuckling at my thoughts. Like I said, rude. Oh well. I truly am grateful to him. Between his tutelage, and the fact that he looked after Lil, and has a message from Lil. Well, between those two things, I’m forever indebted to him.