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Dungeon Revolution
27. The Great Chain of Being

27. The Great Chain of Being

Teekas hissed as the curved bone needle drew through her flesh. “Hold still,” Ninkur said curtly as she worked. Lips pursed, she tied the suture closed and snapped off the excess length with her fingernails. “Honestly, some brave warrior you are.”

Ordinarily, being talked to like that would have made Teekas angry. On some level it still did, but the emotion was muted and distant beyond the fog of pain. She just squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself as the older woman plucked a hair from her own head and threaded the needle with it for another stitch. She dipped the needle into a skin of water boiling over a small fire to sterilize it as best they could, leaving the end of the hair dangling over the edge so she’d have a way to retrieve it without burning herself.

“You should really at least wash your hands or something,” Persephone said, joining the conversation with no warning as she often did. “Not that I don’t appreciate the effort to sterilize your tools, just, seems like it kind of defeats the purpose.”

Ninkur’s jaw set in a way that Teekas knew meant she was annoyed. “There wouldn’t be much point,” she said. “We don’t have any soap, and a splash of water by itself won’t do a thing.”

“Huh,” Persephone said. “I’ll add soap manufacture to the to-do list, then.” There was a moment of quiet while she watched Ninkur work before she spoke again. “It’s my understanding that when you’re suturing closely-spaced parallel lacerations like that, it’s better to do, like, vertical figure-of-eight loops connecting each strip of skin so that it evenly distributes tension across the whole injury. ‘Cause, you know, otherwise it can-”

“I know how to stitch a wound,” Ninkur snapped, tying her latest suture off aggressively enough that it squeezed a whimper out of Teekas. “Figure of eight,” she said contemptuously. “What does that even mean, figure of eight?”

After a short pause, Persephone said “Oh, right! Because you- Eight is different here, right.” This was an equally incomprehensible statement to the two goblins. “Hang on, let me show you what I mean-”

“I know how to stitch a wound, saint,” Ninkur said again, managing to make the honorific sound like an insult. “I don’t know how many injuries I’ve sewed up over the years. I don’t need you telling me how to do my work.”

There was another pause, this one a little longer. When Persephone spoke again, her tone was flat and dangerous in a way that Teekas had never heard before. “Do you want to try that again?” she asked. There was a heaviness in the air, suddenly, as the realmheart’s attention pressed down on them. “Because it sounded to me like what you meant to say was ‘Thank you, Persephone, for saving my life and the lives of my children. Please, finish your explanation, I would love to hear it.’”

Ninkur’s mouth hung open in shock. Teekas was a little surprised as well. She’d seen Persephone chastise Nar-shesh and Immir-shesh when they’d fought the other day, but there had been a sort of joking detachment to it that had belied any real anger. Her sneering cynicism during the hostage negotiation had been unexpected, but after the initial surprise it had seemed obvious to Teekas that it was all just bluster and posturing. This was the first time Teekas had seen the almost laughably breezy and accommodating dungeon direct any actual anger at one of the goblins.

Shock quickly collapsed into indignation for Ninkur, though. Bristling, she drew herself up to retort, and Teekas felt a wave of secondhand embarrassment wash over her as it became obvious that the older woman’s pride had gotten the better of her and she was about to make a doomed stand on an unimportant hill.

“Save it,” Persephone said, cutting her off before she spoke. “You can leave. I’ll take care of Teekas.”

Face pale and blotchy, Ninkur wordlessly gathered her things and stormed out of the cave without so much as a backwards glance.

“The fuck is her problem?” Persephone asked, once she was gone.

Teekas sighed and closed her eyes, rolling her head backwards on her shoulders. Ninkur’s problem was that she’d never liked Teekas, ever since Teekas had laughed in her son’s face when he’d attempted in his condescending and self-important way to court her back when they were both teenagers. Her problem was that Teekas and Nar-shesh, who were the absolute dregs of the tribe as far as she was concerned, had been elevated to positions of trust and power in Persephone’s service while her precious baby boy Immir-shesh, by far a worthier candidate in her eyes, was treated with open contempt. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, instead of any of that.

Persephone just hummed in acknowledgement. Teekas felt a tickle at the site of her injury, and looked down to see the handful of stitches Ninkur had finished before her dismissal splitting open and squirming free of her flesh before vanishing in tiny licks of flame. “I was worried, you know,” Persephone said. “When I got the kill notification about the tatzelwurm and realized you’d gotten into trouble. Really worried. And then when I saw you come back hurt…I don’t know.” She sighed. “I want to use [Azoth Mutation] to heal you. Is that alright?”

A shock of fear went through Teekas, as she recalled the feeling of teeth falling from her mouth, knives slicing her gums. She had already changed so much tonight, already lost so much control over her own life. She didn’t want to change any further. She didn’t want to feel her flesh rebel against her again. But Abzu’s wound-closing spell was already fading and flickering, and despite Ninkur’s protests Teekas knew that closely-spaced lacerations like this one were very difficult to stitch, healing slow and messy even with care. She couldn’t very well protect the others if she was on bed rest or dying of sepsis. She knew that accepting Persephone’s offer was the sensible thing to do. But still there was that stinging, electric knot in her chest.

“I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” Persephone said, perhaps sensing her distress. “If the mutation goes awry, I’ll be right here to get it back under control.”

“...Alright,” Teekas said, slumping slightly as some of the tension bled out of her. For all her distractability and occasionally questionable decision-making, Persephone hadn’t yet given Teekas any reason to doubt her good intentions, or doubt that she’d act on those intentions. If the dungeon said that she wouldn’t let anything bad happen to Teekas, then nothing bad would happen to Teekas.

“Great! Here goes, then. Hold still.” Persephone’s domain pressed down on Teekas like a great hand, gentle but unyielding. Teekas couldn’t hold back a gasp as power flooded into her. The azoth of the dungeon core was at once cave-cool and blood-hot. Her heart hammered in her chest as she watched the flesh of her shoulder roil and change, but Persephone’s hand was upon her: she knew, somehow, that she was safe in the grip of a greater power than herself. Her lacerations vanished, new skin blooming from within them. The pain faded precipitously to itching, then warmth, then nothing. Teekas hadn’t even realized how much pain she’d been in until it stopped: the breath she’d gasped in escaped her in a ragged noise of relief.

Just like that, it was done. Four stripes of glossy black now stood against the green skin of her shoulder. They were not scars: when she prodded them experimentally, there was no pain, but the new skin was eel-slick and sensitive, its texture noticeably different from the rest.

“How’s that?” Persephone asked. “Any pain? Full range of movement?”

The knot in her chest had untied itself: the electric feeling remained.

Teekas shook her head as she rolled her shoulder experimentally. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“Good. I’m not sure how many more times I can risk doing that, so try to stay alive for me, huh?” Persephone said. Her phrasing tugged at Teekas’ memory — she’d asked about heresy the other day, and miraculously healed Striga before that. Teekas realized with surprised guilt that using [Azoth Mutation] in this way must have been a skill transgression. Persephone had broken Heavenly law, stained herself with sin… for her. She didn’t…

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“Teekas?” Persephone said, when she didn’t respond. “Are you okay?”

The first sob caught them both by surprise. “No,” Teekas said, voice wet and raw. “No, I’m not. I had to- and it was in my mouth- and everyone’s treating me like I’m still a child…” She couldn’t even get a full sentence out, the fear and grief and anger that had all been festering inside her now let loose, like pus from an abscess. Because she was safe now. Because Persephone would protect her, and that knowledge destroyed any chance of her holding it together for one second longer. Teekas wept for a while before the tears trailed off into sniffles. She scrubbed at her face with the back of her arm. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m fine, really. It’s just been a long night.”

“I’ll say,” Persephone said. “Enshunna told me what-all happened, so you don’t need to go over it again for me, but… y’know, if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

Teekas pushed herself to her feet. “Maybe later,” she said, and managed a small but genuine smile. “You’ve already done a lot for me tonight. And anyway, I should probably go wash this out before it mats the fur.” She hefted her bloodstained mantle for emphasis.

“Good idea,” Persephone said. “That reminds me, I really need to figure out the sewage situation…” She trailed off, mumbling to herself, as her attention and presence faded from the room. Teekas was alone.

Therefore, no one saw the hint of color in her cheeks as she walked away, absently running her fingers along the stripes of sensitive new skin below her collarbone.

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I was a little embarrassed about snapping at Ninkur like that. Bringing up the fact that I’d saved her family’s life was guilt-trippy and unfair — that was a free choice that I’d made for my own reasons, not a loan to demand interest on. Besides, I hadn’t invoked it just now for any better reason than wanting to humiliate her. I wasn’t entirely sure why I’d reacted like that, either. I hated to be interrupted, sure, just as much as I hated to be condescended to. But I’d been doing better about controlling my temper lately, and especially since starting this isekai adventure. I didn’t want Teekas to see me acting like that.

Maybe that was it? It was one thing for Ninkur to lash out at me because she was stressed and traumatized, but it wasn’t just my ego on the line — it was Teekas’ life and safety. I felt protective of my number-two minion in a way that I definitely didn’t about Immir-shesh’s bitch of a mother. I’d have said that fruit obviously didn’t fall far from the tree, but Enshunna seemed normal enough so go figure.

Why did I feel so protective of Teekas, though? Was it just that I felt guilty for the teeth-mutation incident, and was trying to make it up to her? That would have made sense, but framing it in those terms left me feeling kind of gross for some reason. Teekas was just… I dunno.

Whatever! I could figure it out later. I had other things to worry about right now. I decided not to also risk using [Azoth Mutation] to heal Harig’s injuries: they’d cracked a rib while getting the shit kicked out of them by that angry mob, and were otherwise bruised and battered, but their injuries would heal on their own — though the rib would admittedly take several weeks. This was a practical decision — a rational use of my limited resources, especially my unknown amount of remaining heresy wiggle room. I definitely wasn’t playing favorites with Teekas. Definitely not.

In any case, it was time to talk to Abzu and get some answers. He’d slipped away while I was debriefing the others, and was now… nowhere. I had no idea where he was. How did he keep doing that?

A dry throat cleared. “Persephone,” Abzu said, and suddenly I saw him. He was in one of the side caves — must've been there the whole time, I guess? Could have sworn I looked there, though.

“Hey, Abzu, I was just looking for you," I said. He'd set up some kind of miniature shrine or icon in the otherwise-empty cavern. Its most notable feature was a halo of woven twigs set at the peak, an empty ring with spines radiating from it along its entire circumference.

“I've prepared what's needed to continue your initiations," he said, completely ignoring my greeting. “Attend."

The stream of questions I’d been about to launch into skidded to a halt. Hm… more mysteries meant more experience points. It might be better to wait to start interrogating Abzu until after he finished this loredump, just in case. Besides, this probably wouldn’t take long. “Alright,” I said. “I’m attending.”

“Good,” he said. “Now, don’t interrupt.” He pulled a thin sheaf of herbs from a belt pouch and struck a spark into them. Once they’d begun to smoke, he traced a circle around himself and the shrine, pausing four times to flick the brand in what I assumed were the cardinal directions. The remaining herbs he placed in a clay bowl set before the shrine. “Heaven-Spanning King, Shining Lord, this your servant humbly petitions you to bless my tongue and my heart as I speak of your great works. I petition also the Master of Censors, great in wisdom, to sew up the lips of all evildoers and to permit this unworthy one to speak of these matters, which I do with a blessed tongue and heart and in faithful service to Heaven.”

This felt completely different from the myth of Tiamat that he’d told me last time. The words did not thrum with their own occult power, did not banish our surroundings or conjure a vision. Instead, ever-so-briefly, I felt a sense of scrutiny — as though some blank and pitiless gaze had briefly touched upon us, from a great distance away, before dismissing us as beneath its notice. It was a faint sensation, but not a pleasant one.

Abzu invoked a number of other deities, in what sounded like descending order of power and importance. Twice, he added different kinds of herbs to the smoldering bowl. Without stopping his incantation, he reached for a large, thick woven blanket that he’d laid nearby. Then, several things happened in quick succession. “-go forth in light to do as I have been bade. So mote it be,” he said, concluding the litany, and then lightning-fast drew the blanket up over himself, turning away from the altar. I saw the ring of woven twigs at the apex of the tiny shrine catch flame all at once, and then there was a flash of white light. It hurt, and I reflexively cried out at the pain. That had been blindingly bright. Literally — it was like the light had burned holes in my domain around the shrine. All I could see were spots of uncolor, like those from pressing on closed eyelids, and my control had been banished from the obscured areas.

“What was that?” I asked as Abzu re-emerged from under the blanket. My domain was slowly seeping back into the gaps — it felt sort of like blinking through watery eyes, except with no tears and no eyes.

“[Holy] damage,” he said sourly. I saw that the backs of his left hand’s fingers were dark and raw-looking where they’d peeked around the edge of the blanket, like they’d been badly sunburned. “No way around it with these kinds of mysteries.”

“You couldn’t have warned me?” I said, annoyed. “And what’s with all the prayers to the gods up front there? Do we like the gods now?”

He sneered, pouring water from his waterskin over the still-smoldering bowl of herbs to extinguish them. “The mysteries of Heaven require proper displays of obeisance. It’s just bureaucracy. That’s half of what the lodges do — make sure that what Heaven will tolerate is done in the ways they’ll tolerate.”

“And the other half?” I asked, feeling like I already knew the answer.

“Make sure that what they won’t tolerate, they don’t find out about,” he said. Yep, there it was. He brushed his hands off on his pants and them clapped them twice. “Alright,” he said. “Tonight, we’re talking about the system.”

That caught my attention, for sure. Obviously the inhabitants of this world were aware of the system’s existence — it was hardly subtle — but I hadn’t inquired at any length about what they knew about it or what they understood it to be. I listened eagerly as he continued to speak, and the true mystery began.

“The Lightbringer had completed His conquest and established His dominion over all that was, but He saw that His kingdom was yet un-ordered. All was in chaos beneath the heavens, and His subjects knew not their duties, knew not right behavior, knew not even their own names. So the Sun said to the gods ‘Let us set the world to order. Let us speak law into being, and name all things within the law. Let there be order, and let order encompass all My dominion within it. Let all My subjects know their appointed place.’

And so the gods did as their king had said, naming all things under Heaven. They set the stars in their turnings, and yoked the seasons to their wheel. They measured the earth and divided it into its separate portions. They separated man from beast, fish from fowl, all that crawled from all that walked, and bade each kind not intermingle their forms but to be as Heaven willed them to be. They described all correct and efficacious actions. All that was, became in truth. All that was not, was cast into the lightless abyss, and had no place under Heaven.

All these things were done by the Sun’s command, binding together the world entire as though by a great chain. All of creation existed in perfected and taxonomic hierarchy, beneath the Sun its master. Even this order itself was not beyond itself: it existed and was named within its own bindings.

Its name is the Great Chain of Being."