Of course, of course just as I’m feeling love, and loved, and happy, my mind starts to wander. Don’t do it brain. Don’t do it. I’m warning you. I can tell what you’re about to do. What, little ol’ me? You mean, like focusing on all of our failings, all the people we’ve let down, all the deaths we’ve caused, all of the atrocities that happened during our life or at our hands? Ugh! Screw you! Friggin’! Sniffle. Gorram stupid mrgrgr. I gulp back a sob as my lower jaw quivers, upsetting my tension headache even more. I slump on my T K Surfboard after finishing off the hostiles in the odds ‘n’ ends warren. My emotions hit full turmoil, and my guts roll to accent the roiling, spinning motion I feel cascading within me mentally.
Snagging some of the random loot and some of the resources themselves from this warren, I sell it off to my own shop, probably the only person in either universe that can do that. That’s a few dozen grand for what would only be a few seconds of work, if I weren’t screwing around trying to learn new ways to utilize my spells. Yeah, you do waste a lot of time trying to be better than everyone else, don’t you? Arrogant, self-absorbed, entitled, vain—.
Grr. Screw off. Screw you. No screw you. Grrrr. Reggie? Mhm? You’re arguing with your intrusive thoughts. Oh. Right. There’s no winning against them Reggie. They’ll yell at you for a while, and it’s okay if they hurt. It’s okay to hurt, and it sucks to focus on or recall bad things, but it’s okay to allow yourself to feel them, without responding to them. You’ve already gone through the events.
Huff. Heaving a sigh, I nod at myself, which must be so weird for anyone riding my mental narrative train. You’re right, coping-me, I’ve already gone through the things that my brain is yelling at me for. It hurt, and I have regrets, I’ve failed to save people, hell, just recently, sixty three people from the Damnations. But it is the present currently, and I’m surrounded by love, and warm feelings like the pride of my inner circle. I need to chase these advantages to be better, to do more, to be more prepared to save people should the need arise. Yeah, keep telling yourself that buddy.
Erm, which one of you was that? Well, if you heard it sarcastically, it was your intrusive thoughts. If it sounded sincere, comforting, then it was your coping mechanism. Huh, makes sense. I already forgot what it sounded like though. Don’t worry too much about it. You’ve got plenty of other things to keep your mind busy. Gods, I must really seem like I have a split psyche at this point. Give yourself a break about it. Talking to yourself, addressing yourself, is a coping mechanism. Intrusive thoughts are intrusive, they’re not yours, they’re just depression and impostor syndrome and everything else. There’s no other yous in your head. Well, not at the moment anyway. If you get any future personality ghosts again at some point, that’s a whole other ballgame. Hah, true.
Frowning after a moment, worried though, I glance to Luni with sadness written across my face as I ask, “Lu? Is that side of me right? The coping mechanism stuff? Or am I going crazy? I don’t want to go crazy. I’d be worried I’d be a danger to ev—.”
As Luni pulls me to her, she kisses me softly and coos around the kiss, “Shhh, shh my Hero. It’s okay. You’re not going crazy. You’re not. Te, don’t tease them right now, I know what you were going to say. Reggie’s fragile right now babe. It’s okay. It’s okay. We love you. You’ll be okay. You’re doing so great, and I’m so proud of you. Keep being you, always. Don’t ever stop. If what you think you need to do is keep getting stronger, then I know you’ll do it for us. You’ve got this. Always have, and always will.”
Melting into Luni’s embrace, I sniffle for a moment, and nod at her reassurances. I hate that I bounce from doing mostly okay, or perfectly fine, to being nearly utterly despondent, or enraged, or disappointed in myself, or whatever other things come up. That’s just what intrusive thoughts do though, I guess. Depression, or maybe bipolar disorder, or so on, they rear their head. Listen to what Lu said. You’ve got this. Always have, always will. It means more coming from her though bud. I know. I know. But yeah, you’re right, she did just say it.
I smile furtively for a moment, trying to reorient myself to the present, to be present in the present. I facepalm while shaking my head and rolling my eyes at myself. Lu and Te giggle at my thought train. Even Veril snorts a laugh, then claps his hands over his mouth, while Farzee cracks a smile. Lucky rests his face on Farzee’s knees, so she scritches his jowls and ears.
Quietly, in her usual accent, Farzhis asks, “Broke One, do you think Brains is okay? With Indy ou’ of action I mean, an’ us being sen’ ou’ tomorrow. I’m, I’m scare’, only a little, no’ of the figh’, bu’, bu’ everything hurts. She woul’ say something, right’? Known her a long time, bu’ never really though’ to ge’ to know her. Y’know?”
As Veril’s about to respond, Iylynilya telepathically sends, “You could ask me yourself Farzee. I’m here if you need me Blue. I’m good sweetie. I swear. Just been preoccupied. Sorry I wasn’t there for you this morning. What about you? Are you going to be okay for tomorrow? I won’t bring you along if—.”
Resolutely, in her delightful, few-stop-consonants accent, Farzee replies, “No, yeah. I’m goo’. Enough to figh’ a’ leas’. Thanks Brains. It means a lo’. Coming to strategy meeting? Schism’s been getting a lo’ done way before even lunch. Migh’ maybe be some importan’ changes. Woul’ be nice to have you aroun’ boss.”
Iylynila hesitates before answering, “If that’s what you need, then, yeah. Sure, sure I can be there. See you at the strategist’s council room Blue. You too Red. Tell Schism, tell them—. Sorry, ignore me. I’m glad you’re okay enough to fight.”
There’s a nearly imperceptible click. That’s the best way I can describe the feeling of Iylynila’s telepathic walls going up. I guess she didn’t realize I was in the party call since she was broadcasting to the Dormir, and that I’m one of their backbones. Or maybe she just didn’t want to admit that she wanted to let me hear her voice? It’s hard to tell with Illy. I do dearly love her. I truly hope I haven’t hurt her. I know she said it wasn’t me, and that I haven’t, that she’s just overwhelmed and doesn’t want to be a needy person while the war is on, but, well—. Yeah, I know buddy. I know. She’s a strong woman. She’ll be okay. Also, maybe don’t get too full of yourself, thinking you’re *that* important to her. Heh, true.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Sighing, I lean against Luni for a long few moments, trying to let my headache recede. Our weakest spell has become five times more efficient, ten times actually, and it’s also several times more powerful, with all these runic metamagical adaptation clips in my bangle. We’ve got to commission a bangle on the way out for Kinzul. It should be a fairly simple task. I’ll take a few photos of an empty one like Lucky’s, and print them off at the copier, so that whomever crafts it has essentially blueprints. It might not even end up being the one I give to Kinzul, it could be a failed prototype. I’ll ask them to iterate on it, starting with weaker metals, working their way up to Adamantite.
Alright, thanks Lucky my boy. I’ll give this right back. Photos in some bright lighting, bodyparts and items for scale. Actually, measuring tape for scale. That’s much better. I’ve got the carpentry kit. I may as well make use of it. It’s also incredibly useful to be able to levitate an object to take pictures from all angles, especially when certain angles would be quite difficult to prop an irregular object on a surface. Alright, let’s print these off, and delete the less useful photos.
Let’s give these to someone to commission—. Oh, hey, it’s that burly kobold fellow who gave me a hug after the messed up public speaking. Waving to him, I call out, “Hail, friend. I didn’t get your name before. Would you be someone I could commission for some crafting?”
With a raised brow, the kobold man, Charles apparently, answers, “Charlecruthizh, everyone calls me Charlie, or Charles. I can take a look at what you need Schism. Happy to help. Have you got a second to solve a dilemma?”
Nodding, I float over to Charles, while my party mills about the forgeworks. He points to a section of the wall that seems to have tectonic damage. That’s disconcerting. As I’m inspecting it, Charles points to another section a few meters away.
As I’m about to ask what I can do for him, or start coming up with solutions, Charles states, “Was thinking about filling ‘em with mithril, since it’s a bit flexible, and sturdier than anything other than ori and adamant. With your permission of course. Mostly wondered if you, or some of your squad or friends wanted to take on the task of hitting up the ‘Neath, and see if there’s something going on down there for us, to make sure it wasn’t going to get worse. Rather send fighters than crafters to check it out, y’know? If you tell us to handle it ourselves, we will, but—.”
Placing my palms forward placatingly, I interrupt, “No no, no you’re right, definitely. Feel free to use any of the metals, mithril especially. Let me try to think who’d be best to send down there on that task, and get back to you maybe? A lot of our forces are heading out tomorrow, and if it could end up being a multi-day mission, I can’t risk sending any of them, but those that are staying behind, well—. I might attend to it personally. Do you know of a nearby entrance to the ‘Neath?”
While Charles is accepting and looking over the photos and specifications for the runic bangle, with my notes on desires for iterations, I hear him muttering, “Hm, hm, can do this, easy request, hm? Oh, right. Over by Mah’ruke supposedly. Obelisk is supposed to hide an entrance to the ‘Neath. Some kind of long forgotten backup plan or something. ‘Least that’s what the rumors used to say. Hasn’t been talked about in a long time.”
Chuckling all of a sudden, Charles adds, “Even if there’s nothing there, I figure you or Hunter or one or another of your crew could find a way down, or make your own, from there. Let me see what I can do for you about these. Me ‘n’ the boys, or gals, can probably get some high quality casts made in a few days, and a single prototype as early as tomorrow morning.”
Charles turns about, and waves the photos at another kobold and Draconiac that are working a billows nearby. I’m halfway a bit worried when one of the pages blows out of Charles’ hand since we’re surrounded by burning forges, but he catches it swiftly enough. I call out my thanks to him, and he simply waves over his shoulder without looking back. He appears to be discussing the cracks in the stone wall as he points to them and points to some mithril ore slag gathered nearby. They’re already going about the preparations for the task of filling in the damage.
I smile, recalling one friend amongst the Order that happens to be incredibly adept at prepping for tasks. Hell, that prep work is her primary task. Ooo, I bet Nala’s appended shop inventory list has books, and if I’m lucky, one or more on gemology or enchantment bindings, or similar. Then I might be able to figure out how to get a fourth, fifth, or even sixth telekinetic grip up. My party shares a collective groan as I contemplate possibly going back to Mount Verdimenn already, after having just left for the umpteenth time already this morning. Blushing, I try to make note of wanting to do it before I engage my myconid form later this eve. I’ll be coming back down anyway to craft some spare shop stalls.
Thinking about what I’ll need to craft the shop stalls, I could sense that the Can’Z’aasian aura wasn’t reaching the full depths of each of the warrens, so I’m a bit afraid for what that means for some of them. Thankfully, we prioritized the more expensive warrens, so it’s not too utterly awful if our wood, clay, copper, and iron only respawn a few nodes per day after the miraculous full load of today.
Still, who the hell can I safely assign the task to explore the ‘Neath, to see what’s up down there? If it’s Rayileklian mite-hulk adjacents, it could spell pretty bad news for any Mount Solace resident. Or if it’s a Terrorzin loyalist getting someone to try to tunnel in from below, or any number of things. Whomever goes down is going to need to be able to generate some matter to fill in any sorts of—. Hm. They’re also going to need to not rely on sight, because of first the utter darkness, and second, the mite-hulk adjacents have those confusion-enchantment carapaces.
Oh. Duh. Revvy and Greggy. Greggy being blind, quick, and a Sand, is almost perfect. Revvy being our, “The Dark,” sounds like he’d be at home operating in the ‘Neath as well. With Boetah tied up with Atter, could, and should I maybe send Shaylon along with them so they have some defensive backup? Would Kinzul consent to me setting up missions to send the Onyx Dawn members on, for stuff like this?
An overwhelming wash of pride hits me from Kinzul’s emotional wavelength. I actually topple to my knees under the weight of it, and am dazed by its sudden heft. My Lady offers up, “This is precisely the sort of thing I hope you’ll help teach our son, Sun, over time, as you work together to lead the Order, against any threats. Of course my Schism, my Hero, my love. Yours is an authority equal to my own, and I’m in utmost gratitude that you continue to check with me to make certain our plans are congruous, rather than at odds.”
Despite Kinzul’s pride, and acceptance, I do worry about the possibility of a siege beginning while such a large fraction of our most powerful forces are all out. Chuckling about my worry that springs up, Kinzul teases, “I half suspect if a siege should suddenly befall us during your operation, that you’ll destroy it on the return from your mission on the morrow, before we even have need of Aegis’s talents. Perhaps not entirely on your lonesome, being that you’d be returning from your task with the full force of Hunter, Muse, and Sun. As you know, Tenith would be returning from her task with the full force of the Vivant, and the able-bodied Dormir. Still, let us bring this up to the strategists-eight in a few moments, shall we?”