Oliver was quite the frustrated fellow in his own opinion. That did not mean that he was truly awakened in anger, a state he had, come to think of it, never found himself within. No, it was rather a more pertinent description of his mood to say that his spirits were flagging as he stared longingly at the fallen sea before him. What he would not give for that sea to be of actual water, rather than simply dried leaves. If only that were the truth, it would simultaneously rectify the issue of the great blaze and grant him a perfect location for resolving the greatest obstacle in his path towards web-swinging.

Oliver sighed once more as he rose from the barren branch he had sat upon, dusting away the many spores clinging to his shorts and new leather vest, before glancing once more at the ocean before he resumed his quest. He had spent the three days since his reunion with Camilla searching the spire for any and all who remained unaware of the great blaze.

He shook his head. “If only I had a sea to drown in.”

He then laughed to himself at the thought of his own longing. He began shaking his limbs and preparing for yet another satisfying day filled with frolicking though the mushroom forest, warning the innocent, and battling beasts for the sake of the uninformed. With a healthy and stimulating bit of sigildry in the evening.

Even if it was rather frustrating that he had yet to find a person capable of holding him within the water as his body thrashed for air, and even if it was a bit scarring to nearly drown on a tri-daily basis, it improved with time. He, of course, knew that it was a necessary aspect of his plans for him to comprehend the mystery of exchanging his body’s need for air with a need for mana, yet, even so, it was… less-than-enjoyable. However, it was the only method he could currently imagine when it came to circumventing his body’s incessant less-than-safe tendency to fall into unconsciousness should he ever reach 4 G’s of downwards power during his swings.

As it apparently happened, it took eons of evolution for arachnoids to develop the biological capabilities necessary to perform acts of daring rope acrobatics. Eons of evolution he did not have at his disposal. So rather than swinging swiftly through the sensational sector of the new world, he was bound to the earth, as any attempt at traversing the skies was met with an immediate response from physics. The mentioned response typically came in the form of all his blood streaming to his feet, taking with it the oxygen needed for him to function, whether it be the muscles grasping his rope, or fuelling his brain. All considered, less-than-ideal.

If only he had a deep enough body of water that he could avoid the instinctual habit of preventing his own drowning, then perhaps he could unlock the proper method. Mom, Emma, Camilla, Aelin, and… everyone, would perhaps claim that to be a supremely reckless idea, yet he was utterly certain it would be fine.

But, he reminded himself, he could not galivant off in search of a deep oceanic ravine, for at that moment, he had people to find and guide to the Fallen Republic, where Camilla would welcome them, and further share his method for hastening plant growth.

At that very moment, however, something incredibly fascinating caught his eye. In a rather exhilarating display of ocular capability he would never match without his twenty-seven perception, he distinguished two falling shadows. They were no more than blotches of deep midnight-blue shadows against the abyssal background stretching into the horizon, a difference so faint that it was barely perceptible even when his thrice-improved perception was considered.

“Well, Aelin, I suppose this was also mere coincidence, and not, in fact, the power of hope granting me what I wished for most dearly,” he said, smiling happily at the opportunity to help and teach those who did not know the ways of mana as he did, and were thus unfortunately stranded in the fallen sea.

Oliver quickly wound the leather strings of his rather large pelt pouch, large as his thigh, around one of his tiny pants legs, checked that it still contained the meat he had cooked the day before, and tied it closed. Which admittedly, made the already tight pair of pants even tighter. He then slung his spider-silk cloak haphazardly over his shoulder before the long ropes of silk wound around his arms uncoiled to float around his arms as tough they were springs.

Which, incidentally, was simply yet another favourable circumstance granted by his much slimmer frame, namely that there was simply more area for the springs to occupy. Camilla agreed, of course, but still held firm that while she saw no advantage to dismissing the benefits of an unfortunate situation, she still held firm that the rather less-than-ideal effects of his ‘Severely Malnourished’ status effect.

He would still argue that the interesting fact that he appeared more starved than he should was fascinating, as it made clear the increased needs which accompanied increased levels.

He turned his thoughts to other matters as he focused on the small core of mana inside of his brain. He directed the familiar storm of butterfly wings down his neck, where they split into two paths with little effort, a feat he presumed only to be capable of due to his increased statistics. When the mana reached the point where the silk bonds began, he sent it through the mired swamp muscle tissue seemingly was to mana, before diffusing it throughout the web. He was practicing the ability to diffuse through the entirety of his arm, before he would then let it pass into his from his entire forearm into all the silk simultaneously. He would thus significantly hasten the process, however, he found the achievement rather evasive, which was acceptable, for now, given that even now it took no more than ten seconds.

He then directed the ropes through the air to wrap once around two branches with only a slight gap between them. Oliver then ‘locked’ the mana so to speak, in the sense that he focused intently on it remaining absolutely still. He had, after all, learned in his very first attempt at mana manipulation that should mana be released without express guidance, it would perform one of two actions. It would either diffuse into the mana of the world, or empower the surrounding natural processes, and then swiftly dissipate, as though pretending they were never there. Which, if mana was sentient, was a dedication to escaping the consequences of their actions he could respect.

And such a magnificent secret of mana cost him no more than the separation from some of those most dear to him and his physical wellbeing, which was quite the steal in his opinion.

And should he even attempt to hold ill will against that aspect, it was useless, seeing as it was also the core of his growth-stimulation spell. It functioned by constructing an arcane shell around plants meant to grow, to prevent diffusion and force stimulation of the growth processes as the only outlet for the mana to cease to be ‘his mana’ and once more join the mana of the world, a state it by far preferred.

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All this he kept in mind as he lept down between the two ropes under his will, and slowly lowered himself the twenty five metres between him and the fallen sea. His ropes were, sadly, not long enough for him to reach the bottom, leaving a gap of five metres. However, the situation was quickly resolved as he released one of the ropes, used his now free hand to unclasp his cloak. He then reached down with his rope to use his tendril as a medium for his mana, quickly stiffening the cloak into a plate of white he could easily drop onto.

Once he then made contact with his cloak-turned-skimmer, he directed it through his mana to take him in the direction of the fallen. It was quite fortunate that they found themselves in an area so near where the spire sunk into the fallen sea, seeing as he otherwise would have been forced to resort to quite the detour. It had already proven necessary once before, when he needed to rescue an Avesoid who had found himself stranded on a branch, unable to escape. It was necessary to avoid making a ripple in the leaves large enough for the beasts of the bellow to sense, as would happen due to his drop onto the sea.

Soon enough, Oliver began to hear bickering. He was incapable of diagnosing the initial argument, seeing as it was currently an argument more centred on whether it was foolish to argue in an unknown environment. Of course, even that was a rather vague guess based more upon contextual hints, rather than actual knowledge of their conversation.

Oliver then reached downwards through layer upon layer of leaves with a tendril of spider’s slik, until he came across something through which he could not move. He then wrapped around it, and dutifully ignored the startled yells and calls for assistance as he hoisted whoever it was to the surface.

When the body then moments later broke through the surface and revealed a familiar face, Oliver’s passively happy expression was overwhelmed by one of pure joy, as he called out to his friend. “Aelin? What a wonderful surprise! Would that then be Emma down below? But why, and how, did you wander down here into the wind-torn darkness filled with nought but fascinating mushrooms and bewitching fae-light, which also happens to stem from mushrooms?” Oliver asked, the barrage of questions not halting even as he deposited Aelin onto the skimmer.

“Thank you, Madman, for weighing it as more important to tell me all about the many mushrooms of this place than to, for example, calm our unnerved friend who only heard me disappear before we became too quiet for her to hear.”

“What a magnificently interesting choice of vocabulary, Aelin, for you to choose the wording ‘our friend’ rather than ‘your friend’. I am truly happy to hear that you have bonded during my absence” Aelin stared into the soul of Oliver, clearly judging him for not focusing on helping rather than gossiping. “I am attempting to find, her, I will have you know, it is simply more difficult given her silence, as compared to before when you bickered.”

“EMMA! The Madman is here! And has seemingly lost his ability to figure out simple solutions! He needs you to signal your position!” Aelin then looked back to Oliver with a mockingly raised eyebrow, even as he scrutinized the changes Oliver had gone through.

A blistering barrage of what was presumed to be exclamations, threats, questions, demands, and statements soon followed, creating a trail of sound so constant that it was practically difficult not to follow it correctly.

Emma soon too broke the surface of the sea, whereafter Aelin quickly dragged her onto the skimmer. Once she was on board, she turned her full attention and regard towards Oliver. She stared at him, oddly quiet as compared to her previous tirade when she had yet to see him.

“Your hair is darker. Honey blonde, really,” Aelin stared at her incredulously, almost as if asking if hair colour was truly the most important difference in Oliver, when compared to the twenty kilo’s worth of mass he had lost.

“I honestly thought you remembered? This always happens should my hair ever see less sunlight than it normally would. I turn golden blond in the winter, and then fabulously light blonde during the summer. I suppose this is simply an extension of said natural process, though it could also quite honestly be the facet of this place usually referred to as, extreme lack of light. Especially out here” Oliver answered with an exuberant smile.

Emma studied him for a moment, considering. Her stare went over every aspect of his body, settling onto his eyes for a moment longer as tense silence reigned. She closed her eyes, as if considering the way he spoke.

Then, in no more than a moment, she pounced from where she knelt, rocking the platform enough for Aelin to almost tumble in before she gripped Oliver in a tight embrace as they both fell from the platform into the fallen sea, Oliver happily gripped in a crushing hug.

Before long they were sailing back towards the tree while Emma interrogated Oliver about his condition. He, in return, pretended that controlling their vehicle required every gram of focus he could muster to avoid confronting what she would know, should he speak the truth. Until, of course, Aelin saw something in the shadow of the spire.

“Are those… chains?”

“Where?” Emma asked.

“In the shadow of ‘the fallen spire’, as the Madman so dramatically named it,” Aelin said, rolling his eyes, “They lead too far into the shadows for me to see clearly, but I am almost certain that something is chained to the side of the spire. Bottom now, but when it still stood, it was chained to the side.”

“I will firstly have you know, that quite a number within the republic find my naming sense positively phenomenal, inspireing even,” Oliver said, turning to focus on Aelin even as Emma glared into his back for clearly lying about the degree of concentration required to control the skimmer.

“Secondly, I find it necessary to point out that I am not sharing my great naming sense merely for our sake, but for the sake of the descendants of the republic. We are the first in a virgin world, and as such, it is our responsibility and honour to conjure forth fantastically dramatic and suitably awesome names for what we discover. To both ensure that our roots in this new world are suitably impressive and plant the seeds for a culture where such names are appreciated. All so that further exploration in coming generations continue it into the proud tradition it should be,” Oliver dramatically intoned, his gestures grand as he spoke of how the new world should be named in the same manner as you would name a fantasy location.

Aelin seemed to find Oliver’s grand speech stupid, while Emma looked at him as though waiting for some trap to spring.

“And as such, it would only be right for us to follow those chains into lands unknown, so that I can name them while you attempt to stop me in my endeavour to name whichever ruin may lie there. Now onwards, for the sake of a future with deliciously dramatic maps!” Oliver said, pointing directly into the darkness, and approximately thirty degrees left of where Aelin saw the chains.

Emma rolled her eyes before she spoke, clearly not surprised. “Oliver, that’s not going to happen. Not without a lot of preparation, at least. Now come with us to the spire, or we will drag you there. You can resist, but it won’t work. You’re level eight in both your paths, while we’re both level eighteen collectively. You won’t stand a chance.”

“A fair conclusion, my bestest friend, however, what exactly do you plan to drag me across? I seem to have dominion of the skimmer-cape, after all,” Oliver smiled happily at her with a questioning shrug, before he turned to once more point into the darkness. “Now onwards, to adventure!”

Aelin glared at Oliver with barely contained fury, as his fists shook with rage and frustration. He then turned to glower at Emma, making it obvious that he blamed her for getting them reinvolved with Olive.

“Besides, I have leverage even beyond absolute control over where we travel.”

“What might that be, Madman” Aelin ground through gritted teeth.

“Well for starters, I have noticed that your questing party seems to be lacking my cat, Garmark. Yes, I remembered.”