Is my staff recharged at all yet? Huff, no. The last mote of energy in it is what allows it to draw in and purify ambient mana over time. If I used up that bit of energy, the staff could go inert and cease to function. I can’t risk that. A few of the spells only use ambient energy rather than energy from the staff, but they’re mostly utility magics. Hm, what’s that happening to Tiktik? Kitten’s faltering, bobbing as she approaches, which worries me further that I’ve got almost nothing left.

Did Tiktik and the gryphon manage to snag the smoke bottle when I had the gryphon fly her to safety? Would that be useful or hazardous at the moment? Think Reggie, think! Limitations, advantages. Brand new, wide-open pathways through every bit of my nervous-system. Merged with Fel blood, and lightning-wood. At the moment, fire your electricity to your muscles, catch Kitten before she falls. I do my best to crawl up and lean over the edge of The Drake, holding my arms out for Tiktik to fall into. When she lands in them, I lean back heavily, falling upon the deck of The Drake.

Tiktik whimpers, either in pain, or fear, or perhaps both, I’m not sure which. I don’t even have the strength to tell her I can’t access my thinkspace. We lay together, panting exhaustedly on the deck of The Drake. Suddenly The Drake takes a hit, and another, and another. The sound of steel denting becomes the sound of steel buckling and shearing. The Drake lists heavily to her starboard side, obviously taking on water from a massive gap in the hull. It won’t remain afloat much longer, and I doubt we could repair it while on the waves, even if we didn’t have to fight off some barely visible Fel creatures while attempting such repairs.

Well crap. Tiktik and I literally just got up here. Tim’s shouting something, but I can’t make it out. Suddenly a familiar, explosive sound reaches my ears. Gunfire. I blink rapidly, returned to startling wakefulness. Despite no longer feeling drowsy, I’m unable to move my head to any great degree. Still, I still manage to spy Tim reloading a musket, while fishing out what looks to be alchemist fire fuses for trinitrotoluene. Or perhaps they’re fuses for sticks of dynamite that have to be inserted. That seems to be exactly what they are, fuses smeared with a substance that continues to burn even while in water.

Tim takes another potshot at something on the starboard side of The Drake. After that last shot, he’s seemingly either unable, or unwilling to reload the musket further. Tim jams the fuses into sticks of dynamite rather than bothering with the gun that looks identical to ones we’ve seen in the Derbrightmine Dominion. Using the musket’s flint, Tim ignites the fuse on one of the sticks of dynamite, and tosses it off the starboard bow. The spray from the explosion is best described as chunky. Hrp. I know I’ve been fairly brutal lately, but having Fel flesh bits and blood rain down on me from the sky isn’t exactly pleasant.

Fortunately, the thing attacking The Drake seems to be in its death throes after Tim throws another stick of dynamite. Unfortunately, it’s a massive creature, and its death throws include slamming its full weight into The Drake as it topples towards us. The Drake capsizes, fully listing horizontally, despite us having just climbed aboard it. Tim is sent plunging into Lake Siempre, almost catapulted by the impact that capsized us. I’m doing my best to keep my muscles locked around Tiktik, and I’m also struggling to keep myself as magnetized as possible to the stern of The Drake. At least until one of us has the strength to get us out of here.

I know there has to be some way to turn my current deficits into assets. What could I use tunnels running throughout my whole nervous system for though? Hm. I could perhaps keep additional mana residue from building up on my inner Changeling true self. I could focus so that whenever I work with mana, it always travels the new channels within me, and leaves through my extremities. Kind of late for that now. Heck, if mana residue built up in those nerve-channels, it would probably bolster my own durability, toughness, S P, and maybe even speed, rather than killing me by collecting on and strangling my second soul. Well, at least uncorrupted mana, though it’s not like I’m unused to corrupted mana working its way about under my skin at this point either.

None of that really helps me in the moment. I can’t afford to be essentially paralyzed as the forces of Hell bear down upon us. I also don’t want the psychic centers of my brain to be broken either. The price I pay for my hubris is too great a cost at the moment. Tiktik mentioned something about a cureall for nonmagical, and some magical maladies, right? Could we work with that to either heal my nerve damage, or my brain’s psychic centers? Well, when she’s alert, and her S P have recharged. Still, we’re in need of solutions for right now, as I can still hear Teuila battling something out amidst the waves. It doesn’t sound like she’s doing very well.

I croak a question, “Kitten? Carriage?”

Tiktik rouses enough to answer, “It’s still floating, we—,” I can feel her convulse as she drifts to unconsciousness momentarily from what must be intense pain, before she continues, “we have to unlash it. Ship will drag it under. I, I can handle this Tiger. Find Tim, find Valk. Ow, meet on the carriage.”

Tiktik struggles to free herself from the death grip I’d been using to lock her safely to me, and I relent. She pulls a dagger as if from nowhere, and begins cutting into the incredibly thick tow-rope tied between mooring posts on the stern of the ship. Tiktik balances precariously on a railing support, treating it like a ladder, while The Drake is completely horizontal. Any moment now it’s going to tilt over and finish capsizing. Or perhaps it will just sink like this, if the center of gravity is remaining over the center of buoyancy due to the hole in the hull filling with water.

Tiktik’s counting on me to find Tim or Te, or both. But I don’t even have the power to locomote myself, let alone move, seek out, find someone else, and bring them back with me. What about a lightning leap? I was able to do one with the power of the staff, well, several. It was an intensely excruciating experience however. But, if I can’t physically move, and I can’t cast any of my magics, it’s the only thing I can think of. Would I disperse if I hit the water though? Or would I be funneled down to the lake bed and grounded out?

Thankfully, despite us both worrying for her safety, Teuila shows up. She spies what Tiktik is trying to do, so she finishes slashing through the tow-ropes as she hangs wearily from the stern. Teuila is looking the most haggard I’ve ever seen her, and I’m incredibly worried about her, but I can tell that Tiktik is informing Te that Tim fell off the starboard bow. Teuila leaps back into the waves of Lake Siempre, seeking out Tim, leaving me feeling useless.

I’m about to offer to try to lightning leap with Tiktik, when she agonizingly slowly picks herself up with her magical hand. She floats towards the carriage, bobbing in the air, her magical hand visibly near fritzing out the whole while. I guess that just leaves me. I don’t want to come into contact with the carriage, Tiktik, or the lake as a bolt of lightning. I’m fairly certain that I’d destroy the first two, and die to the third. I’m going to have to angle myself upwards like a lawn dart or horseshoe, then return to my normal non-lightning form midair. This is going to hurt.

I exhale as smoothly as I can, despite barely being able to control any of my musculature. Up we go Reggie. Loosing my magnetic hold on the stern of The Drake, I fire myself vertically with a rearward arc, hoping the carriage hasn’t drifted too far from where I recall it being in relation to The Drake. Becoming lightning feels about as bad as being struck by it. I have no natural immunity to the biological damage electricity can cause. Even my Can’Z’aasian resistances only reduce its pain and damage by about ninety percent. Sure, that sounds like a lot, but when electrical energy is enough to kill someone hundreds of times over, a tenth of that is still fatal. For example. I obviously strive to be as low-voltage and amperage as possible with my transformation into a lightning leap, but still, it feels about as pleasant as being tossed into a giant blender full of ghost-pepper juice, and someone hitting puree.

As I return to my own form, long before the apex of my arc, I can already tell I’ve miscalculated. This is going to hurt even worse than I thought. I impact a corner of the roof of the carriage with, guess what, the right side of my rib cage. The agony that overcomes me as I feel my ribs snapping and scraping my lungs is horrid enough that I nearly pass out before hitting the water.

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I can sense Tiktik struggling, wrestling to maintain consciousness aboard the carriage, and I struggle for the same as I begin sinking beneath the waves. Thankfully, I can’t drown at least. At least Teuila didn’t strip me of the neckchain of the ever breathing. I probably should have armored up before checking on her, but I was in a hurry and not certain where my armor was. My ribs would be a lot less broken now though if I’d had my armor on.

Wait, wait, the neckchain provides oxygen, if I breathe deep enough, I should maintain buoyancy without too much trouble. Ow, ow, ow. Breathing hurts. Holding a deep breath hurts even worse. Come on Reggie, fire enough impulses from neurons to nerves to paddle at least a bit back towards the carriage. As I struggle to move even a single limb, thankfully Kitten fishes me out of the drink with her magical hand, though it’s diminished in size and power enough that she can’t lift me from the waves. Tiktik’s magic can only drag me to the edge of the driver’s seat of the carriage.

I’ve got enough control to at least flop myself bodily into the driver’s seat of the carriage, thankfully. It sounds like Teuila is fighting off one more of the creatures yet still. Wait, she’s moving crazily fast towards the hull of the—. Te! Oh gods no. She slammed into The Drake and skidded down it into the waves of Lake Siempre. She’s not an otter right now, and if she’s unconscious, she probably doesn’t have a large lungful of air. Glancing over, Tiktik’s out of commission, unconscious again. Unless Tim shows up miraculously carrying Teuila, it’s down to me to get her, or possibly both of them. Friggin’ hell.

What do you have Reggie? What do you have? Something, anything, think about your assets list. Apheliotes was used up during the skirmish against the Fel horde. My thunderstick is shattered, merged with me. Elemental protection scrolls, even if I had more, wouldn’t be much use. Minor water walking potions! I’ve got tons of them! I only noted down the six from earlier, but Milbert’s random stuff that we haven’t sorted through had a bunch of semi-finished potions, most of which could become minor water walking in a few seconds. Okay, okay, the archsorc staff can manipulate a magic hand for me without spending its last spark of energy. It only takes ambient mana to produce the ghostly hand. What else? I can get the hand out, and have it mixing up the extra water walking potions for me as I figure this out.

It’s almost as if time is slowing down. I’d be terrified that that meant Teuila is derezzing, because of the time dilation that always accompanies a powerful Can’z’aasian creature’s derezzing. But I’m positive Te isn’t dead. She wasn’t derezzing from the impact, and it’s only been an instant since she hit the waves and began sinking. It’s as if some otherworldly force is granting me extra time—. My eyes widen. Focus, focus. Bring the velocity of time to nothing. You can do this. Do it Reggie. That’s it, keep slowing time, further, further. Okay, everything, including my body and magical hand are also paused in time, but this gives me time to think, like my old accelerated thinkspace. We, I, I finally have a use for my aspect’s affinity for absence. The absence of the progression of time.

The various Sister’s words echo in my head. While I’m in this paused time, I study the back of my eyelids. There’s an important clue here, but I don’t know what it is, what I’m looking for, or how to interpret it. Wait. Time is paused, but I’m thinking, and thinking is electrical impulses, unless done in an astral or psychic plane like our thinkspace. I’m able to continue manipulating at least some minor bits of electricity, and they’re traveling at normal speeds within my brain. I should take advantage of that, and try things out with electrokinesis. Scatter some sparks throughout your system Reggie, carefully. Now that you have the time to do this, let the electrokinesis teach you about these cored out nerve pathways.

This is exhausting, it feels like I’m manually holding back the flow of time with my cortex. It’s as if physical portions of my brain make up a dam holding back Lake Siempre from spilling out over Autumn Brook. Focus Reggie. Don’t waste time thinking about that pain, or the building pressure. Explore in this moment between moments. Hm, unfortunately I was right about a bit of bad luck, I’ve destroyed some things in various parts of my brain, from manipulating too many copies of too many spells at once. Huff. That sucks. Oh well, at least we know for sure. What else can we learn about our current form, our brain, our nerve pathways?

I almost wonder if I could use King’s weird alien ectoplasmic symbiotic parasitic biology to fill my cored out nerves. Well, if I could utilize him if he wasn’t completely destroyed back in the Cathedral of Blood. Not something that’s going to help me in the moment, but it’s a possible line of thought to pursue at some point. What else is there? I’m gaining some skill at manipulating these sparks to scout and receive feedback from my nervous system. That’s certain to come in handy if I don’t regenerate the charred tunnels throughout my body. It’s also likely to come in handy when I let this nearly-frozen time drop.

Funnily enough, I might be able to force mana residue out these cored out nerve pathways. New mana residue anyway. I could perhaps eject residue not already stuck to the inner true changeling self within me. Let’s go back to our assets. Water walking potions are among them, and the hand can finish off several partially completed ones relatively quickly.

The minor water walking potions specifically mention taking another step, so I wonder how they’d react to me laying on my belly atop the waves. There’s also the curious idea of what might happen if drinking one of them whilst beneath the waves. I think you might be rapidly floated to the surface, as if from a trampoline resuming its normal level plane.

The time dilation is becoming too difficult to hold. I know I can at least flop myself back atop the water while drinking a minor potion. Most of my locomotion will have to use gravity and short electrokinetic spark pulse blasts. It’s far too tiring to use my muscles manually by controlling each nerve impulse. Alright, we’re back in normal time, and the ghostly hand is working at mixing up a half dozen more potions at a time. Despite the agony, I quaff several manually, and then purposely fall back into Lake Siempre.

Whatever Teuila had been fighting, however many of them there were, there appears to be one left, though it seems to be on death’s door. I spy the crate holding the alchemist’s fire wicks, and two tubes of dynamite with my danger wraps’ senses. If I can just get to them, yeah, my magical hand. I have my hand stow the extra potion materials and potions after I quaff several more, and place one against my lips, holding it in place without drinking it. When I’m about as set up as I can be, I have my hand fetch a stick of dynamite and a wick. Once the magical hand brings them back, I combine the two, barely in time as some massive limb swats vaguely in my direction. It seems to mostly be attempting to use the wreck of The Drake to right itself in its weakened state. I just happen to be between it and the ship.

Making certain Teuila isn’t within range, I send an electrokinetic spark between my fingertips along the tip of the fuse. I’m due for a headache when I do what I’m about to do. I don’t have the energy to throw the stick of dynamite, so I have my ghostly hand float it in the direction of the creature’s face as quickly as it can manage. In mere moments, the stick of dynamite explodes in the creature’s face, finishing it off, while also shattering my magical hand, sending a shearing pain through my brain. Ugh. Just like when I used telekinesis to compress the thermite through a small aperture til it exploded.

Huff, okay Reggie, get to it. I wearily stand atop the water, locomoting by manually firing my nerve impulses. I slow time again for a moment as I try to parse my senses. I’m hoping to be able to analyze the wreck, the waves, the falling creature, in order to paint a mental picture as to where Tim and Teuila might be. There, got it. The likeliest places. Within a fair margin of error at least.

Falling forward, I discharge small blasts from my hands as they trail behind me, sending me skidding atop the waves of the lake. I re-summon my magical hand along the way, figuring Tim would likely have clung to some floating debris. I was right. He seems in and out of consciousness, but my magic hand can at least drag the debris towards the carriage. That leaves Teuila. Hang on My Wings, I’m coming. I’m so glad I didn’t beg you to keep fighting any longer at Autumn Brook. Phew, a couple more steps, and we’ll fall beneath the waves. Magic hand, you keep dragging Tim towards the carriage.

I let the final bit of minor water walking magic expire, dropping me into Lake Siempre to seek out Teuila. I exhale as hard as I can to reduce my own buoyancy. There, over there. She has to be that way. The current is flowing westerly. Ride the current Reggie. Literally go with the flow. There she is. Unconscious, not breathing, but her heart is beating strongly. You’ve got this Teuila, and I’ve got you. I force enough nerve impulses through my body and limbs to wrap my arms around Teuila when I come into contact with her, locking them tightly. I inhale strongly through my nose while drinking the minor water walking potion in my mouth, angling towards the carriage. Sure enough, I’m virtually fired from beneath the lake at a semi-rapid clip, while carrying Teuila. This time, my calculations are on point, and the two of us land in the carriage’s driver’s seat with a whumpf.