I’m more than a little embarrassed by the idea of trying to show off the new powers, since it would mean standing around for up to an hour just to see me turn into a shape temporarily. Shapes that I didn’t exactly craft for attractiveness, or showiness. Worse, I’d be putting them into cooldowns and lockouts. I guess I can test one thing first.
Aiming away from everyone, up into the air, I breathe a stream of lightning, without costing a loss of my reflex-enhancing internal electrokinesis. I was wrong about the multiplier, my breath weapon is only a two or so times multiplier, but that’s still twice as effective as just pointing and blasting. Farzee, um, quivers, and clenches her legs together, seeing me breathe a stream of lightning that seems to have no limit, that takes no charging time, while in my humanoid form.
The lightning does have one drawback, I’m not immune to it, so it does hurt, and burn my throat like chili-covered razorblades, so I am taking some damage from it. Thankfully, with my new baked-in regeneration, since my base health pool is so high, I think in an hour I’ll probably recover the couple minutes worth of damage done to my throat. I’m worried about Farzee’s reaction, because I feel like we’re becoming friends, and like she’s on a good path. I hope I’m not scaring her into thinking I’d be trying to take her title of The Blue. Or—. Oh. Prinrin’s perceptiveness confirms my possible other suspicions. Ahem. I probably should have started with any other display of power while I’m getting dressed. Moving on.
I can exhale a bit of flammable gas, but I’m not sure I want to ignite it by swapping my organ back to lightning. Lil ignites it while I’m pondering, causing the puff of flame to blow up in my face. I chuckle and roll my eyes before I pretend to angrily glare at my buddy. My ice breath works in reverse, drawing in atomic motion, cooling the area in a bit of a cone in front of me, packing that heat into my organ. I really need to think of another word for that body part. The snickers along my mental wavelength are getting out of hand every time I think the word organ. Especially with phrases like pack that heat into my organ. Jeeze you guys.
My cooling breath isn’t as good as my flash freeze storms, nor is it an ice breath, nor anything that’s really usable in battle, but, it could rescue someone else from a painful fire, or even reduce the effects of a fire, or lava, on me, down to almost nothing, beyond the already ninety seven point three percent reduction. I’m not willing to try my acid breath. I probably shouldn’t use or call on my poison breath. I’m nowhere near immune to either, though the poison breath might not be able to affect me, due to my neckchain making it impossible to inhale it as I’m exhaling it. It’s really just my fire breath anyway, without igniting the gas, gas that’s generated by packing heat into my organ. Oh come on guys.
Heh, I can’t help laughing along with them for a moment. Okay, what about my natural Changeling Fae gift? Oh, oh that transformation is much smoother, much easier to control. Oh wow. Wow I—. I find myself mimicking the incredibly beautiful and handsome forms around me, gaining gasps from the assembled. When Veril licks his lips during the moments that I shapeshift into Farzee’s amazingly gorgeous form, in the flattering padded under-armor I’m wearing, it earns him a dubious glare from the real Farzee herself. She doesn’t slap him, despite wanting to, because there’s a tiny hint of pride in her appearance getting that reaction, something she’d have wanted to do when she was more into her games. Regardless, Farzee wanted some demonstrations, or info on what we’d been doing, right? Which forms are worth thinking about right now?
One thing I “programmed” into the plushy form, was a few computer chips, using some spare adamantite as a circuit-board essentially. Computer chips with a mini processor, and network interface card. I’m hoping, that with the smartphone working eventually, if I put things into the inventory belly of the plushy form, that I can keep track of it on a spreadsheet on my smartphone, without having to manually enter everything. I won’t be able to use my space skill to put things in or fire things out or duplicate things, not without having Kinzul’s aid, and using eight minutes to call out to the powers of Can’Z’aas.
None of this would be possible, I wouldn’t survive any of these attempts to refine my powers, without Kinzul’s aid. Without my whole inner circle, and Kinzul Administrating with her Latent. Even after I find my cure, my power from Can’Z’aas had grown too fast for my body to keep up with, so it might be deadly to try using on my own. I might be less prone to dying now that I’m Reggie Stage Two, RS2, as a baseline, but it’s not a given. I touch my neck, where I’d bound the platinum scarf as I’d worked it into the otter plushy form. Kinzul passing on such a priceless memento to me means so many worlds to me. I felt her heartache upon seeing it when it was retrieved. I don’t know what to do with the swirl of emotions both of us feel about the matter. The Platinum, the true hero of dragonkind. Me, with a symbol of his legacy? Pieces from his actual body, his scales, given form? It’s— it’s beyond an honor.
If I find Tiktik again someday, I could possibly enchant the platinum scarf with her neat platinum scale spell that causes a scale to try to intercept attacks. I’m not sure I’d want to risk it though, to risk damaging something that means so much to me, and is so beyond priceless to both me and Kinzul. Placing such an enchantment on the scarf, so that it protects the otter form in a semi-animate manner would, huff, probably be a last ditch effort at making it into a suitable combat form, if everything else were down and I still needed to be on the offensive. I mean, the scarf was something like thirty, fifty, or a hundred feet long, I couldn’t really tell. It was likely meant to be able to wrap around Kinzul’s neck even in her mountainous form.
Since Farzee had asked for a demonstration, I’ve been spending time trying to work out how to change into the shadow elemental form. There’s a prerequisite that I’m not understanding, and it’s not working, which is disheartening. I don’t want to put other forms in cooldown, just to show off. I do want to go into my myconid form though, and begin examining these books Nala had passed me. They’re the kind that require dedicated time to pass on their enchantment, but my myconid form can possibly shave off some of that time with speed-reading. Gaining these abilities from Yisstendahl’s hoard is one of my top priorities for expanding my powers.
There’s something on the tip of my tongue, or brain, and I’m almost certain it’s something I knew once, or thought of once, that could be of aid. I can’t quite recall it at this second though, instead, feeling like a bad parent, for always neglecting him, I reach out to Lucky. When he bounds into my mindscape, bowling over my telepathic avatar, I love up on him, roughhousing, hearing something that apparently no one else hears. I hear Lucky excitedly asking, “Other parent? Other parent? Other parent? Parent near? Near parent?”
When I speak in my mindscape, saying, “Luni’s close, but not here right this second. I’m so lucky to have you in my life Lucky. You’re too good to be true,” I hear Lucky bark and see him circle in response to hearing his name.
His words that seem only audible to me are, “My name, that’s my name! That means love! They love me. Happy. I’m happy.”
I hold tightly to Lucky for several minutes, not even caring about the revelation I’d almost made. Of course, that’s when it comes back. Lucky forgives me as my mind wanders, and he returns to his task, almost joyously. There’s—. My mind is racing with new knowledge, or, or rather perhaps, forgotten knowledge. There’s, there’s something, things that I missed. I make a mad skitter around a bundle of bodies and leap into the air while summoning a T K Surfboard. Zooming out towards our personal library, I dig through some of the tomes I’d thought perhaps not so useful, or forgotten their potential use, since they contained a duplicate ability to one I already had.
Hah. Hahaha. Hahahaha! Yes! Okay, so, a bunch of the things in Milbert’s hoard were books that had this same enchantment, one that grants the ability to use extra S P to quicken runic crafting. Depending on how I read them, what I surround myself with, I can change the benefits of reading extra copies of the same enchantment more or less. My loved ones are rushing after me, to see what’s got me so giddy. Okay, okay, I’ll need, um, hm, okay it’ll, ah crap. It’ll take some resources, and burn them up into the enchantment, so I’ll be needing to sit in one spot, reading with the book placed on those resources.
Let’s see, if I want to make it stop costing additional S P to quicken low rune-count spells down to the shortest casting time, it takes legendary gems? Ahhhh what are those!? Still, if I can figure it out, it basically doubles the amount of spells I can use in combat in a day. If I want slightly less useful changes to the quickening ability, I can make the number of runes covered per S P multiplier level change. That would mean that, instead of say, a 128 rune spell taking four times the S P to quicken, I could get it down to requiring three times, or even twice the S P instead. Which, sure, is still a big boon, but I’m not running around with a lot of high S P spells. Dispellation comes to mind, but I don’t even have it mastered yet, and it has a whole host of things that reduce its S P cost and number of runes used on its own, based on how it’s intended to be used at the time of casting.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Oh man, if I could master the prescient moment spell though, and afford to actually cast it before or during a battle? That could literally be the difference between victory and defeat. A flash of foresight with a guaranteed positive outcome. Could I save Kinzul? If I focused and wanted that to be the specific task that I succeeded at? Huff, genre senses are telling me that it wouldn’t give me such a specific task that might take more than a quick flash to find the correct path to. It’s basically a single second worth of foresight, before an event, then a flash during a moment when it’s correct to execute what was seen. If I recall correctly. Still, it would be such a powerful spell if I could cut down on the amount of runes to use it, and still cast it occasionally. The S P cost is too high though, even if it didn’t cost more to quicken it.
I sigh, trying not to feel let down about my revelation. I’d been reminded of a power that I hadn’t tapped yet, that still broadens my horizons, so I should feel grateful. Even if I can’t realistically chase those horizons at this very moment. I hustle back towards the party, struggling with my disappointment, not paying attention. Crouching low, leaning forward with my arms back for balance, on my telekinetic surfboard, I zoom back in the direction of my vault.
Of course, the nearest person in the pack right now, is the one who was farthest away, who’d been standing farthest back in the vault towards its entrance, unsure of herself. Veril had come in all the way hoping to catch eyefuls of handsomeness and loveliness. Farzee had almost been using him as a shield. I feel like a complete arsehole when I ram into her face first at chest level and we tumble over, bowling over into Veril, ending up in a mess of limbs.
Fuggin’ hell, ow. Shaking my head, sighing, I apologize quickly before doing anything else, “I am so, so sorry you two. I—, I’m an idiot, a lot. I get distracted by a lot. I—, like right now, I should have gotten up first, instead of shaking my head in your chest. Sorry Farzee. I’m floating up, I’ll help you two up too. Gorrammit I’m so sorry. Sorry, sorry. Fuggin’ ay. Sorry. Really, truly. Please forgive me you two. Farzee, I did not mean to, to, I don’t want you thinking I’m playing head games with you. I’m not trying to send mixed signals. I’m proud of the direction you’re headed. I don’t want to screw up your journey.”
Beginning to roll her eyes, almost settling into disdain, Farzee catches herself, and holds up a hand placatingly. In her wonderful accent, she offers, “I could have been in less hurry myself Schism, got excited about you revealing new leaps and bounds in powers. Could have avoided being right where you’d have to round a corner. Um. Thank you. For that. Um, pride.”
I really hope that didn’t sound condescending, or dismissive of her as a person or devaluing of who she currently is, ugh. I thunk my head into the wall to my right several times. Right, anyway. I need a whole mess of gems, and a lot less time to do something incredibly important, than I’d needed to do before all these changes. What would have taken eight hours, will take, let’s see, about forty eight seconds per, times sixty if just doing those priority ones, about forty eight minutes in my myconid form. I can probably afford to hit all the warrens except the experimental one, if I limit myself to only ten nodes per for tonight, in just an hour. I can do that while reading Yisstendahl’s spell-like tomes.
If the tomes were fifty-six hour tomes like I’d thought, I might be able to read them in seven or eight hours. Possibly nine and a half, or sixteen’ish, depending on how much the speed reading affects things. I’d be putting my myconid form out of commission for several days, if I use only an hour to transform, and try to keep it for eight hours. I wouldn’t be getting any sleep, but this form I’m in is brand new, only a few minutes old, and I’d be in my myconid form for those eight hours, one that’s pretty heavy on regeneration, so it might not get tired.
All of this does technically give me access to more time in the day too, because of this. Some of the forms don’t get sleepy, or tired, or need to sleep at all. Just when my base form has been awake for like a total of forty eight hours on its own, between other form uses, I’ll definitely need to sleep. I’m not sure how I feel about abusing this particular potential of having new forms. I don’t want to give up on cuddling and sleeping with my beloveds. It would settle the one bit of drama that Illy brought up, but I’d feel so lonely, and hurt, like I were abandoning the ones that I love, to chase all these projects and power. I can’t do it.
From next to me, where I hadn’t noticed everyone catching up and arriving, my wife, my beloved Lady Kinzul comments aloud, “I’m glad of that my love. My spouse. Nurture your love more than your power. It will keep you through the darkest of times, more than the other. Especially with those deep hurts within that ail you.”
Smiling sadly at Kinzul, I nod and float my way into her offered embrace, realizing I now stand eight feet tall all of a sudden, having shapeshifted over the last fifteen seconds or so to accommodate her without even making note of the effort. I’m fairly certain I hear Farzee and Veril choking on their tongues at the confirmation of the marriage arrangement between me and our Lady. Or maybe at the fact that we’re kissing softly, and embracing so tenderly.
Oh, right, blushing, I ask, “So, um, you two wanted to talk, to hear something straight from me?”
A bit stunned, shaking her head in disbelief, Farzee pinches her own cheeks several times to make certain she’s awake. In her always delicious accent, Farzee mutters, “Well that answers one question. Volunteers? Pawn said ye need dragons specifically. I know I could have, should have listened to her, the rest of it, to hear, but—. I’m still selfish Schism. I can admit it, but I don’t know if I can change it. Having an excuse to see ye, when I’m still shook up, well, I took advantage of it. Was hoping for, I don’t know. Comfort for The Broke One and me.”
Floating towards Farzhis The Blue, and shrinking myself only slightly, so that I stand well over a head taller than her or so, perhaps a foot and a half, I spread my arms wide. She takes the offered hug, and I embrace her warmly, in a kind of love that has no hints of anything save the desire to comfort someone in need. I’ve reasons for not shrinking down further, while she’s as vulnerable as she is. I turn slightly to welcome Veril into the same embrace, and hug them both at my fore. Veril’s about half a head shorter than Farzhis, so there’s room for arms about me so that we’re not a smashed up pile of limbs.
Answering why I need volunteers, the reason Farzhis came down here in the first place, I state, “We’re going to rescue a lot of people tomorrow, evacuate them from Terrorzin’s lands, here to Mount Solace. What I need most is dragons willing to fly to Attraxiaz the Loud’s domain, pick up groups of kobolds and Draconiacs, and fly back, as long during the day as necessary, while I patrol back and forth across the skies, keeping the procession safe. I want us to expand our aerie, our landing, before that though, by say, mid-morning. I think Gresog can help with that. He’s some sort of sand-dragon, right? Does his breath generate silicates? Could it become stone or mortar?”
Quick on her feet, cunningly, Farzhis, as always in that delightful few-stop-consonants accent, offers, “Could do fulgurite, strong glass, with the right heat, lightning, yeah, that’s Greggy’s breath. Melting it could bind together certain surfaces when it cools, for sure. We’ve a few other Sands as well, if the civvies are up for it.”
Nodding along, I squeeze Farzhis a bit more into our embrace in gratitude before loosening my embrace of the two Dormir dragons. I ask, “I’m afraid I might already know the answer to this, but do we have *any* stoneshapers or other spellcasters? Any casters at all?”
With a grimace, Farzee confirms my suspicions, “No, a titled archmage is, was, all we could get away with without sparking retaliation from Terrorzin. He had agents all over the world, killing new mages, taking down or conscripting archmages. Kept everyone else down, made rules as our supposed king, laws to follow on pain of death.”
Farzee nearly spits disdainfully before continuing, “To keep him from massively outpacing us in magic, at most we could get away with killing some of theirs in a few duels now and again, playing it off as personal disputes, taking down some of theirs. He kept us limited, in-check, so we couldn’t get to a point where we might stand a chance of opposing him. Any time we started to grow beyond twenty or thirty members, or had any hint of magic more than our single archmage, he cracked down on us, hard. Lot of pain, lot of death.”
Thinking on it, Farzee adds, “When our duels would kill leaders of a faction, possibly freeing up their people? His other factions would always just absorb all the forces, or kill any that might have been willing to defect. Now that we’re openly hostile? I’m thinking the killing is going to be swifter.”
I squeeze the two Dormir dragons one more time, rubbing their backs and ruffling their hair in a bit of a loving, almost parental manner. Oh goodness. Is this how Kin—? I glance at my wife, and she nods my way. Huh. Reggie Shellcracker, falling into these positions, over and over. I shake my head in disbelief of myself and the situations I get myself into.