Chapter 4 - Connections

A fact known about being under Asden, but rarely truly considered when talking to someone about it, is how stuffy it feels. Oh, delvers will tell you all about cramped caves where you have to crawl and silently beg for a cave-in to have the decency to wait until you are out of the way. Or the tricky terrain, with loose rocks and a high chance of falling to your death in pits unseen. All those things are real and known, and in a mining queendom such as Asden, they are almost common knowledge, passed from parents to their children as songs and tales.

Still, what truly makes it uncomfortable is not the claustrophobia, nor the darkness, but the heat. For many, the feeling could be equaled to staying in a closed room for days, sweating and breathing that awful stale air of a place no wind had ever thought of going through. Parts of the queendom 一 especially the ones closer to the mountains in the east 一 found an underground so hot that magma flowed abundantly and water exploded in geysers or settled in boiling pools.

Under the asdenian inner capital, however, it wasn’t only the heat that made the tunnels and sewers below awful to go through, oh no. The true evil, that last blow to any delver and sewage worker, was the humidity.

Some scholars would argue that it was the consequence of bad engineering, the original builders not considering the seasonal rains, causing them to make tunnels too narrow to support both the quantities of waste and water. An expected consequence of foreigners using Gifts and magic to create a city too quickly, without properly understanding the region and its peculiarities.

Others, staunch defenders of the sanctity of their queens and history, would argue that the problem comes not from the original sewage system, but from the additional tunnels built during generations of rulers that didn’t have the talent nor the specialists of the original settlers of Asden, leading to lower quality engineering that compromised all the infrastructure below the capital.

Nevertheless, what pulled May from the claws of unconsciousness wasn’t the heat, nor the humidity, but the pain. A nauseating, piercing ache inside her chest that made it difficult to breathe. The sensation of long, long thread shreding every muscle and sliding inside her flesh, pulled by an unwavering grip that left her whimpering like an animal. Were it not for the effects of [Telepath’s Box] and the leather bindings that kept her arms in place, she would have scratched her skin raw trying to find the source of her pain.

Instead, May screamed and thrashed against the bed under her, nails piercing her palms deeply and causing blood to spill between tight fingers.

“Fuck, FUCK!” The voice of Alis pierced her ears like a hot poker, causing black dots to appear in May’s vision. “The bindings, Kreacher! Cut the bindings!”

On her left, May could feel something furry biting the leather until her hand was free. On her right, Alis worked in overdrive trying to untie the knot she had used. When both of her hands were set free, the pain immediately started to subdue, leaving the young girl on the bed a sweating, panting mess, unused to the clammy sensation of her new fleshy body.

Alis fell over her chair when she noticed the thrashing had stopped, taking deep breaths to settle her thumping hearts.

“What the Hells was that?” A rat said, climbing dexterously over the bald woman’s garment.

“That…” Alis took a final, deep breath, swallowed, and continued. “Was a Relinquishment.”

The woman stared at May, and she realized that what she thought were black eyes when they first met, were dark, deep, fathomless pits that seemed to notice the world around her with no problem. Beyond all 一 and even more offensive to the doll 一 was that they dared to seem apologetic. Regretful, even.

“I’m really, really, really sorry for what just happened.” The woman said, skin deepening its violet color around her cheeks in shame. “If I had known your Truth would go against the bindings I swear I would never have done it!”

May stared at her uncomprehending, getting angrier and angrier at the situation. “Where did you take me?” She spat out, scampering to stay as far away from the woman as she could and quickly taking her surroundings in.

The room, carved into the cream-colored stone around them, was somewhat bare having only the bed she currently was and a desk with a chair on the side, all made of stone as well. May couldn’t see anything beyond such simplistic decoration, but the sensations on her skin gave her a little more information to work with; the humid warmth let May reach the logical conclusion that wherever this was, it was deep under the city.

Her adventures through the sewers had been sparse before. At most, she had made short trips when searching for some food. But they were enough to teach her how to recognize certain characteristics.

“We are… Um, we are under Crystalia right now.” Alis said, pointing upwards. The name brought no comfort to May, who didn’t know what it meant, causing only more of her anger to surge.

“Crystalia?” She asked, trying not to snap, but the annoyance had become a pulsing ache behind her eyes.

“Um. The city we are in? The… capital?” Alis tried, but May remained silent and immobile. She couldn’t see her original body anywhere around her, and that was making her more and more concerned, mind spiraling into the possible outcomes of being separated from her porcelain vessel for too long.

Another growing concern beyond the kidnapping. She turned towards them, blowing the hair that fell over her face when she moved. May would need to tie it up later 一 or cut it. “So you hit me, kidnap me and try to tie me to a bed. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but…” May’s brows furrowed as she stared deep into Bel-Alis eyeless sockets, fearless of the void. “Those don’t sound like friendly actions.”

Her Gift pulsed beneath her skin with every moment she affirmed her presence, the symbolical reins of her Truth returning to her hand after the… loss of Control? May could feel the certainty firming itself on her mind; whatever that pain had been, it was her Gift unveiling itself 一 the ball of thread that was her Truth untangling and leaving her.

With every word, the unseen wounds healed as she leaned more into Control. The sarcasm was just the soothing balm for her wounded ego.

Bel-Alis bit her lips when hearing her words, hand tightening around her cane as she at least had the decency of looking embarrassed.

“Okay, I’m sorry for hitting you with a cane. And accosting you in the middle of the night.”

“Don’t forget the kidnapping.” Kreacher promptly helped, to which Alis gave a pointed stare. The rat raised his tiny paws in a defensive gesture that May found quite adorable, although the expression didn’t show on her face.

“… and I’m sorry for the kidnapping. There were probably better ways of reaching out to you with our warning.”

May couldn’t help but interrupt, a single eyebrow raised in an almost perfect imitation of the expression Hector’s subject used when trying to press a point. “You don’t say?”

Bel-Alis watched the twitching eyebrow on the girl’s face and sighed, noticing the utterly exaggerated and artificial expression, but didn’t engage. “Nevertheless, I’m glad I did it. The Crying Hounds would have eviscerated you without question. We’ve seen it happen before.”

May looked at her, not understanding why the paladins of the goddess of rain would hunt her down, but chose to put her temper aside for a moment, even if she didn’t trust the duo, nor their intentions. “Because of what? My Gift?”

“Maybe that’s part of it, sure. The main problem, however, is that you’re one of the stormtouched, right?”

“I… don’t know what that means.”

“Indeed, Alis.” Kreacher said from her shoulder. “Please explain it with proper names. This entire ordeal is getting quite tiresome.”

“Stormtouched is a proper name. It’s descriptive and it sounds nice!” The young woman pouted.

“Only you use it, though. There’s no way she would know about it. I’ve said this before, you need to start things from the beginning!”

“… fine.” She begrudgingly admitted. “Stormtouched are the creatures that showed up after the storm two seasons ago, a… heavily magical event, let’s put it that way. I’ve been trying to study them ever since I came to Crystalia, trying to find others besides Kreacher, but I’ve had little success.”

May recalled the tidbit of information she heard at the Wet Falcon and nodded. “You are one of these… stormtouched then?” May pointed a finger to the rat, choosing to fold her legs under her for comfort now that the tension between them broke down a little. She still kept a tight hold on her Gift, however. Her Truth still had enough energy for another Ability, and she would use it if necessary.

“Indeed, we are. So are you, if our observations are correct.”

“We? Are you a stormtouched as well?” May turned to Bel-Alis in confusion.

“Me? Nah. Kreacher just talks like that about themselves. In the plural, I mean. It comes with the perk of being kind of a hivemind.”

May gave a blank stare at them as she thought things over. It was the oddest manner of speaking she had ever heard; and that was considering she had listened to some people used they instead of the usual he and she, which was fine in her book. But it was the first time she found someone talking about themselves with we.

“All right then. So you think I’m one of them.”

“I’m certain of it. Kreacher has been keeping tabs on you ever since you ate one of them at the… What was it? A bar?”

“You can call it that.” Kreacher responded, before turning to May. “Quite barbaric manners I must say.”

Ooh. Got. You. There. The whispers chose this moment to interject as if a spectator savoring the drama in front of it. It irked May, but less than Kreacher’s comment about her etiquette.

“My manners are impeccable.” She hissed at the animal, giving the closest thing to mental swat at the voices in her head. “There’s just no need to use them with a rat.”

“Humph. Selective etiquette is the same as no etiquette.” The animal said, squinting his eyes at her as if superior.

May worked hard not to jump at the creature and strangle it.

“Anyway…” Bel-Alis flicked a finger at Kreacher’s snout, who swore softly at the pain. “Sorry about that. They found this book about etiquette a while back and it’s been like this ever since.”

For a moment, the implication behind the sentence made May shiver. The rat could read. And if they read a real book as Bel-Alis said, then they were probably better at it than her.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

The blow to her pride was enough to make her chest ache.

“Back to the main topic.” Alis clapped softly to regain May’s attention, unaware of her conundrum. “We are certain you’re a stormtouched for a few reasons. The fact you’re some kind of coreless golem 一 which is completely unheard of by the way 一 and your ability to transform into a… creature of some kind.”

“There are no other dolls like me?”

“Nope. And your true body’s constitution of porcelain and sinew marks you as something I’ve never read about, so you are most definitely one of a kind. Just like Kreacher.”

Wouldn’t that make May precious? She couldn’t help the satisfaction of being an utterly unique servant of Hector. Maybe she was a little more worthy for that.

“Beyond that, you’ve gained conscience for less than a year, right?”

“Correct, a hundred and sixty-four days ago to be precise.”

Bel-Alis made some quick calculations and nodded. “Hum, more than two weeks after Kreacher, that’s unexpected. The storm lasted for about a week, give or take, you should have woken up much earlier.”

“Which means that I’m older.” The rat said, pink tail swaying lightly. “You should be more respectful, youngster.”

“Tsc. Over my dead body, vermin.” She cursed at him, face souring.

“Please, you guys. A little civility would be appreciated.” Alis said and May didn’t know how to react to the intimate way of talking. “Besides, I’m the oldest of you all. Children.”

For a moment May stared at the young woman in surprise. The constant apologizing and anxious demeanor made her think the eyeless woman wouldn’t have a single chic bone in her body

“Another point that makes you different, May 一 and do correct me if I’m wrong 一 but you weren’t sleeping when you received your Gift correct?”

“What?” May took a moment to get back to the topic. “Oh, hum, yes. I was awake when it happened.”

“As expected! For some reason, you don’t have Gift Dreams as you should. It’s probably the weirdest characteristic the stormtouched have.”

“I did have a vision, though.” May said after a while, lightly prodding Bel-Alis with information that might be worth something 一 but the response she got was so lackluster that May’s shoulder couldn’t help but fall.

“Oh, that? That’s not a Gift Dream, believe me. Kreacher had one as well.” Alis said, explaining while fidgeting with her cane a little. “But how does that change things for you?” She finished with a mumble May could barely hear, thinking loudly. A moment later, she rose her head at the audience in the room, a small smile in place.

“With all of that said, let’s try and organize things.” The woman smiled and extended her palm to her right as she got up. “[Knowledge is Never Alone].”

Existence folded under the Ability, and what was once air now became occupied by a chalkboard similar to the ones May had seen in the war orphanages. The rectangle board stood on top of a simple wooden structure with little wheels at the bottom that squeaked when Bel-Alis pushed it.

Alis took a stick of white chalk from a pocket of her robes 一 May was uncertain if it came from the Ability or if the woman just walked around with prepared writing instruments 一 and drew three vertical lines from top to bottom, segmenting the board.

On top of the first one, she wrote her name in curly calligraphy. On the second part, Kreacher’s name adorned the board. On the last one, however, she turned to May with embarrassment.

“I… don’t know yours”

The doll sighed, but complied for now. “May. M-A-Y.”

“Oh, um, pretty name.” The woman tried, but the purple on her cheeks and her usual fidgety hands made May unable to discern if she was being truthful or just polite.

“Thanks. I guess.”

Bel-Alis gave a small smile and turned back to the board, writing May’s name on top of the third and last segments. The woman cleared her throat and began.

“So, this is what we know. Two seasons ago, during the winter solstice, a storm covered the entirety of Asden, and I mean that literally, not a single part was uncovered by the water and it didn’t affect a single centimeter outside of its borders.”

“Is that possible? Rainclouds move, right?” May interjected, focusing on the impromptu class and remembering the growing rains that recently came with the ending of spring and the beginning of summer. The clouds drifted with the wind all the time, and some of the children around enjoyed spotting shapes on them.

“Exactly, they do move, but this one refused to. Not only that, something was inherently magical about it all.” Bel-Alis grew excited at the opportunity of explaining. Kreacher just sighed. “We weren’t in Crystalia when it happened, so I can’t really tell how much it affected the city, but I heard it was bad. However, on the plains northeast of here, where we get our food from? The rain didn’t harm the crops at all. They should have drowned!”

“So, it’s beneficial?”

“That’s the thing. To the wildlife, crops and natural terrain? No impact whatsoever.” Bel-Alis gestured while speaking, voice rising with the excited edge of someone talking about something they were interested in. “To the cities and settlements, however, it was a disaster. Completely. The cities flooded, houses crumbled and people drowned by the dozen. Many lost almost everything.”

“Beyond that, there’s the timing of the event, right?” Kreacher asked politely from his perch, though May gave a sardonic smile when she noticed the strained limbs with which they were holding Bel-Alis clothes. Her moving arms had made him almost fall twice already.

“Right, right. You see, May, Asden doesn’t have winter rains. Not at all. The winter here is dry even in regions like the one we are in, so close to the jungle.”

May nodded again, blowing some of her curly, untamed hair when it got stuck to her mouth. “Then why did it happen?”

“I… actually have no idea. In the beginning, I thought it was something related to the Church of Winter, or maybe even the Frozen Court, due to the date, but it doesn’t really fit with their way of doing things.” Bel-Alis sighed and pushed the lower part of the board, making it spin to reveal its back; an unblemished chalkboard.

On it, she wrote ‘Possible Causes’ on the central top and started a small list. The names ‘Church of Winter’ and ‘Frozen Court’ were crossed after being finished, but the last one remained untouched: ‘The Tearful Woman’.

“Well, May… How much do you know about Gods?” Bel-Alis prodded carefully.

“Not… not much.” She begrudgingly admitted. “I can recognize The Tearful Woman, though. She’s the goddess of rain, right?”

“Among other things. Her cult is possibly the greatest culprit behind the storm, as it would be her domain, and they have been actively hunting around Crystalia for new Gifted for months now. Why they would do that? I don’t know. How? Even less.” For a moment Bel-Alis bit her lower lip but continued as if nothing had happened.

“Still, that illuminates a few things for us. First, they know something about what happened or are at least aware that it was more than simple magical rain. Second, something about the newly Gifted is making them hunt them down.” She paused to make sure May understood everything and Kreacher took the stage for a moment.

“We, however, have some doubts about their actions. Likely, they don’t truly know about us, stormtouched, as they’ve been taking every single Gifted, instead of searching only for our presence.”

“You’ve said something at the alley, though. About a ghost man?” May pointed towards Bel-Alis, who nodded.

“Yes, a ghost boy really. He looks only a little older than you. We found him after Kreacher heard some rumors about a ghost at one of the Tearful’s cemeteries. Poor thing must have woken there and started crying. They…” Bel-Alis sniffed a little. “The Hounds took him when they noticed the disturbance. The force they used was… gruesome.”

“So they already have one of us?”

“It’s likely. Although I’m not sure if he is Gifted, he’s still as unique as you guys. There’s no such a thing as ghost people, at least not without a necromancer close by.” Bel-Alis spun the chalkboard to its original position and wrote ‘Ghost’ at the lower corner. “Even the natural undead can only be fleshy.”

May watched the lesson fade to silence and like a flash on her brain, remembered she was still on enemy territory. Her expression turned into a grimace when she noticed how precarious her position still was 一 lost deep underground and surrounded by potential enemies. However, there was still a participant in the conversation Bel-Alis and Kreacher were unaware of.

“What do you think about all of this?”

Hum. Complicated. Convoluted. Instructive. Truthful. Many of the voices seemed to give different opinions regarding the information Bel-Alis presented, but they agreed the woman was honest. May couldn’t tell how they discerned that, but she trusted their judgment enough.

“Is it better to stay then? I can’t say I can afford to fight them if they already knocked me out so easily.”

Indeed. Remain. Learn. Necessary. Possible. Allies. You. Weak. Stupid.

“I am not! I can read and write and count!” May argued loudly, the vein on her forehead pulsing in anger as her ego took the last blow. Bel-Alis stared at her with confusion on her brows while Kreacher snickered that high-pitched sound.

“That’s… good. Congratulations?”

The voices howled with laughter inside her mind, and for the first time, May felt what it was like to have her cheeks get hot in embarrassment. She couldn’t tell if the sensation was worse than the feeling of shame, but they were unpleasant enough that she had to take a deep breath before trying to beat the whispers with pure force of will and indignation.

She couldn’t tell if it was working or not, but it helped with getting them quiet for now.

Back to the duo in front of her, May dismissed their glances with a fitting, learned gesture. A hand flapping the air as if softly getting rid of a fly. “I’m all right. Still, why are you telling me all this?”

“Ah, of course. Should we do proper introductions?” Bel-Alis started writing under her name. “So, I’m Bel-Alis, twenty years old, currently a Priestess of the Master in the Dark.”

“Kreacher, six months, Wood-Rank Gifted.” The rat said from his position with what could only be described as pride, small chest puffed like a servant that did good and knew it.

“I’m May, six months as well, and…” The whispers added to the information with knowledge that made her grit her teeth. “Rankless.”

“Oh… you haven’t used your entire Truth yet? That’s good, that’s good. The opportunity to see another Shaping from one of the stormtouched can prove itself to be invaluable.” The Priestess mumbled as she wrote things down, unaware of the sour expression on May’s face.

“What do the ranks mean?” May asked, voice tight and ashamed. Now, Alis realized something was wrong.

“Oh.” She turned and saw the young girl pouting, embarrassed for her lack of knowledge, and couldn’t help but sympathize and reminisce. Bel-Alis walked towards the mattress May was on and slowly sat beside her, Kreacher leaving her shoulder to stay on her lap. The smile she gave was careful, but kind. “I apologize for rushing, sometimes I… extend myself too much and people might lose themselves.” She cleared her throat for a moment.

“Ranks are a way of… evaluating someone’s Gift. Some people are obsessed with the idea of fitting each person to each rank, and there’s some merit to it, but sometimes it’s just too generalist. For example, Kreacher’s Gift may be Wood Rank, but with his transformation, it wouldn’t be impossible for him to harm or kill a threat in the Stone Rank, maybe even Iron.” Alis explained slowly 一 giving Kreacher some small pats all the while, their white tongue hanging 一 and only continued when May nodded. There was little space for her usual excitement here, the moment too important to mar it with something less than kindness towards the living doll.

“All creatures that have gained the ability to grow by accruing Creation’s energy, or mana, follow the same path of nine, plus one. What differs are the names and powers. Arcane creatures grow in Grades. The Gifted claim new Ranks. The sorcerers and wizards dwell in Circles. And the Faithful walk the Steps.”

May raised her head and looked at the woman 一 truly looked at her and her actions and she couldn’t help the feeling that there was something here that was more than met the eye.

Bel-Alis was tall for a woman of her age, spindly almost. Her face was gaunt; the place where her eyes should be was dark around the edges as if stained by ink. The hand scratching the rat’s underside was stained and covered in chalk dust, marks May had only seen in a scribe before. The woman spoke tenderly, so careful of May’s reaction that despite the awful first impression, she felt there was something genuine about her kindness. It resembled something that felt almost heresy to admit.

It resembled Hector.

For a moment, May let herself wonder if there was a possible alliance here, like the whispers had said.

“You… said you were a Priestess,” May asked, careful of any mistakes. “Does that make you the same Rank as Kreacher?”

“No. To be a Priestess is to reach the Second Step in my path. The same Step as Wood Rank would be a Deacon or Deaconess, my previous position. My next one would be Cardinal, like the other servant to the Master in the Darkness here in Crystalia.” She stopped for a second, her face reflecting sadness and worry. “Although… I haven’t seen Cas-Inar ever since I came back.”

“That makes sense. So you are more powerful than us?” May chose not to comment on that last bit. Prodding seemed impolite.

Kreacher scoffed at May, but his reprisal was almost stubborn. “Of course she is!”

“That’s… a complicated question, May. What is power at the end of the day? I have more mana in me than you due to the Step I’m at, but the God I serve isn’t necessarily a martial one, so I have almost no Ability for combat. Does that still mean I’m more powerful?” Bel-Alis hummed for a moment, thinking. “I’m definitely more versatile, however. Abilities grow in quantity and quality with every Step, regardless if they come from a connection with one of the Gods or if they are forged with Truth and Gift.”

“Take my full title for an example. Those that begin to serve the Endless Abyss become Deacons of the Deep, their powers suited for delvers and apprentices to accumulate knowledge. Now, I’m a Priestess of History, with Abilities suited to the study of relics and ancient objects. My previous Abilities remained or changed, while new ones were added. Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” May said, entranced by the explanation. There was something about understanding more of the world around her that resonated with her Truth, leaving a satisfied sensation at her core. Maybe it’s just an extension of her innate curiosity, or perhaps, just another type of Control after all.

“Now what? I’m Rankless, and even Kreacher is more advanced than I am. What… should I do?” May asked, letting honesty fall from her lips in a manner that left her vulnerable.

Bel-Alis smiled, and it was one of kindness and secrecy. Of guidance and old wisdom.

“Now… you let us help you. And in return, you may help us too.” The Priestess extended a hand, and part of May feared that this was the moment she would strike her down, bind her, leave her behind. But there was no faith at the tip of her fingers. No, she was thinking about this the wrong way. It was faith, but of a different kind. The one that exists in the absence of magic. The type of belief that arises through promises and the start of a connection.

Facing a new decision, May watched the woman and rat and chose something that would make her little prince proud.

And herself as well.