Not even a couple of days pass before Croce delivers on her promise. I don’t know how, I was nowhere near it when she got us this opportunity, but we’re leaving the sky city on a week-long expedition.
As for how we got back down on the ground? Turns out that when not actively moving the island touches down onto the earth. So, when I observed it the first couple days after it arrived, I actually saw just a very tall mountain that only had the illusion of floating.
Anyway, what I’m trying to say is near the very bottom of the rocky island there is a passageway leading outside.
And now we’re back in the forest. Or rather, I’m back in the forest. As far as I know it’s Croce’s first time here.
We make quite good time and make it to my clearing before nightfall and decide to stay there. Kind of weird that we managed that, don’t you think? Especially with how my speed, even when walking, is at least double what it used to be before my silent step skill.
Well, Croce once again proves that she isn’t a frail old grandma. And also, the power of the System’s skills. Yeah, I already noted the couple of times she moved quicky through the library, but I sort of though those were just quick bursts of speed.
Turns out that’s not at all how it is. She managed to keep up with me perfectly. She even commented how slow I am a couple of times! Can you believe that?
Anyway, now we’re at the place I spent most of my time on this world. It’s still mostly unchanged. It’s not like much could have changed though. I haven’t exactly focused on keeping this place cultivated and I haven’t been gone for that long. A bit over a week really.
The only thing I’m suspicious about is the home I built. Something about it feels different, but I can’t put my finger on it.
“So, is this the place you stayed at?” Croce asks as we get into view of the lakeside.
“Yup. Haven’t been here that long, so it’s still mostly wild, but I’d say it’s gotten rather nice. I even managed to build myself a house!” I say proudly.
“More like conjured yourself one.”
“Huh, how can you tell?”
“It’s much too seamless. And it also looks as if it almost grew in that shape. Which, unless you found a very weird magical plant, is basically impossible.”
Good to know, I guess. It’s something to look out for in the future if I do need to blend in more.
“Either way, it’ll be a better sleeping place than under the open sky.”
“That it will be.” Croce looks a bit thoughtful for a moment. “Should we get started with food?”
Although she asked that, she’s already bringing out the provisions we were given as part of our expedition. Yeah, that won’t be happening.
“How about we save the preprepared food just in case. I did survive here for a couple months, didn’t I? there’s a great source of food just nearby!”
“Sure, but if it doesn’t taste good, I’m eating this anyway, along with your portion.”
At least she put the meal back into the backpack. Now then, back to my routine. It’s sort of nice to be back.
I take the knife strapped to my side, kindly provided by the island for out expedition so it’s a proper metal one, and get ready to harvest some birch bark.
And damn, it’s so much easier with proper tools! Maybe the knife is simply that sharp, but I think my improvised implements also plays a role in the easy with which I cut into the bark. Which doesn’t exactly make sense, but why look a gift horse in the mouth?
After I have decently sized chunk, I find one of my old pots and take both to the lake. Firstly, to wash the pot and fill it with water for cooking. And also, because it’s easier to separate the outer bark from the inner in water.
Back in the camp, I use a quick spell to light a fire. It’s not powerful, but good enough to use for utilities.
After the bark is sliced into thin strips and in the, by now, almost boiling water, I get ready. Maybe just one last thing.
“Hey, Croce!” I call out to the nearby librarian. She’s examining my house from up close. “Do you have a favourite dish?”
“Anything tasty!” she shouts back.
Well, that wasn’t very helpful. But, when I remember our trips to the cafeteria on the island, she also didn’t have a meal she ordered almost every time. So, I guess it’s my choice.
AS the water begins to properly boil, I start the ritual. The flavour enhancing one. Oh, how long it’s been since I last did this. Sure, the food in the city is actual food, but something about the magic is just better.
Deciding to stay fairly basic, I imagine normal spaghetti with tomato sauce. Can’t go wrong with some good pasta.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
It doesn’t take long for me to finish. Neither does it take long for the smell to spread out and attract a certain wrinkly person.
Another couple minutes later, we’re both full and satisfied.
“Gotta hand it to you, that was some really good food. Never knew something like that grew around here.”
“Ha, I wish! The first couple of days I lived here it tasted extremely bland.”
“So, you’ve got a cooking skill then?” she raises an eyebrow.
“No, not exactly. But magic is very, and I do mean very, versatile. The only problem is that usually it’s also very weak.”
That seems to be the wrong thing to say, as Croce quiets down and the conversation halts.
A bit later, I get up and head in the direction of my house. Still gotta check up on that. And also figure out some sleeping arrangements. There should at least be room for one of the bedrolls we brought along.
As I approach it though, the same feeling of something being different washes over me. Is it… bigger? It is, isn’t it? So, not only do I have a magical living house, but also one that’ll get bigger over time.
Sure. I mean, whatever. At this point I really shouldn’t be surprised about weird stuff happening with the one ritual I actually passed out on.
The inside is much the same, except for the whole being bigger thing. Mostly empty, only my mysteriously transported bed in one of the corners. And the ladder to the loft.
Yeah, I’m going to ignore the ladder to the loft. It definitely was there the whole time and didn’t magically spawn over the time I was gone. Yup, perfectly normal magical house tree, nothing unusual about it.
Even the weak mistiness left over from the magic of the ritual is gone. Or is it?
On a hunch, I settle down to meditate for a bit. Then, with the clarity of mind this brings me, I concentrate on my sixth sense for the magical.
At first, there’s nothing there. But this doesn’t deter me. I also couldn’t sense the disappearing door in the cell.
And then I see it. The whole house, or should I say tree, is permeated with magic. And it certainly isn’t fading. It actually feels stronger than when I left (was abducted). Why then, wasn’t I able to sense it?
So far, only the really faint stuff was out of my reach. But now, now there’s a new axis to this whole magic shebang. I’ll figure that out later. It’s time to sleep now.
The next morning, we set out again, bright and early. The direction, the Void summoning ritual.
Once we’re some distance into the forest, Croce asks me the question I’d been expecting this whole trip. Honestly, I sort of expected it much sooner. Maybe even before we left.
“Where exactly are we going?”
I hum in acknowledgment of the question, but remain silent. I need some time to think this through. How much should I tell her? Do I go all the way to the fact I’m technically from the Void? No, that’s unnecessary for our purpose here.
“Pardon the question, I know it’s a sensitive subject, but how much do you know about magic?”
Croce’s breath hitches for the barest moment, but almost immediately she takes a deep breath and answers. Her tone is unusually calm. “Not much, but still mountains more than most people. Somehow, the mages unlock the ability to perform magic, but at first, it’s weak. They have to use various supplements to improve it. Then they gain the ability to cast spells instantly.” At least that confirms my theory that I wasn’t supposed to get that trial thing immediately. “They don’t really share much, but when doing some really powerful, complex or esoteric magic they always need time for preparation. And the casting, in those cases, is also much stranger and more complicated than in other cases.”
Okay, good. I’m not that far off from the path of the normal mage. Not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.
“Okay, thank you.”
At her lack of acknowledgement, I continue. “When exploring this forest, I came upon one such complex ritual. It’s an unnaturally dark hole surrounded by large stones with inscription of blood. At one point I sort of accidentally activated it.”
Croce gives me a funny look. “What? I didn’t mean to! The rocks absorbed my magic and used it to power their own effect!”
Ha, now you get it, don’t you? “And said effect was the summoning of one of those creatures.”
“You what!?” Croce shrieks. “I can’t believe you’d do something so irresponsible! No, no, obviously it wasn’t that irresponsible if you’re still alive. But still! How could you leave it there?!”
Before she can shout again, I quickly interrupt her. “Ok, first of all, it’s not as bad as you think. The creature never actually made it through the rift. And I couldn’t disassemble it because I have no idea how! If it could automatically power itself, who’s to say it doesn’t have self defence mechanism.”
A moment of silence stretches between us. Eventually, Croce breaks the tension.
“So, it didn’t manage to get through to our world?”
“Weeeell,” a sharp look from Croce makes me continue, “not entirely.”
“What do you mean, not entirely. Explain!”
Sheesh, she’s getting a bit anxious there. Then again, it is her home world at stake.
“The creature managed to push a tentacle through. But before it could push more of itself here, the power in the ritual ran out and the portal cut off. Except that that left the tentacle behind.” I take a deep breath. “And then the tentacle gained a life of its own. It mutated, growing limbs and a mouth. Though before it could wander off, I killed it. There, that’s all.
“Okay, I can sort of accept that,” Croce replies after a minute, “how does this help us though?”
“Ah, yes. My plan is actually twofold. The eldritch aura of the full creature, while the spell was active, was overbearing, maybe even as strong as the ones plaguing your world, if not stronger. The cut off tentacle creature though. Its aura wasn’t strong enough to affect me even when it was actively trying to.
You’ll probably have to stay away while I summon it, but once it’s done you should be able to get closer. Maybe you’ll even gain the trait!”
Seeing as Croce doesn’t look exactly convinced, I continue.
“And the second option is maybe less risky. I think I could create an object with the tentacles corpse that emanates an even weaker aura. It isn’t going to be easy as they dissipate quite quickly, but I think I can do it.”
“Hold on, what do you mean they dissipate?”
“Well, just the morning after I killed it, its corpse had already shrunk to the size of my fist. I wanted to take it back to camp, but it was completely gone by the time I got there.”
“Okay,” she pauses. At least she’s properly considering it. “We’ll do it this way. You’ll summon us the tentacle spawn and then call out to me. I’ll be far away, so as to not be affected by the mother. If I can endure it, good. If not, you kill it and we try again. You forgot that the corpse may still have some sort of effect. If I can’t withstand even that much, you’ll magic an item out of it. And, if somehow, I’m not even able to withstand that much, you’ll try to craft weaker and weaker version until I can join you.”
Looking at her, I can see determination in her eyes. Whatever it is that’s her motivation, it sure is a good fuel. Maybe I don’t actually know her as well as I though.
That doesn’t matter now though. What matters is what’s ahead of us. And also, I need to figure out how effective levels in pressure resistance are against the physical part of the eldritch horror’s presence.