Chapter 55: Noble Gas

“Not exactly a grand opening, is it?” said Ralos.

A terrible pressure flared at the back of my jaw. I scraped my finger bones across my molars. A new tooth had sprouted in a thorny bouquet of tiny bone slivers.

Ralos poked inside his own mouth. “Ahah,” he let out a single laugh. “A wisdom tooth. What a corny class, you Spirit Mages.”

I understood better now—as fresh insights flowed—what he meant by wanting to put real spirits into player characters. There would be steep consequences for finishing last quest step.

“What do your two other Troika members think of this?” I said.

“They’re a little too iffy, honestly,” he said. “They lack vision, so I locked them in a liminal hideaway. You know about those, I think?”

I noticed Vick5’s gaze widen at that. My party stayed still and silent unless the Mentalist told them to move.

“Perhaps there are three leaders for a reason?” I said. “An uneven number of decision makers is fair and logical, to break ties.”

“The concept of fairness is flawed. Why not just go for it, I say. One is an uneven number of decision makers, and happenstantially, the ideal number for efficient decision making.”

“You would imprison those who have helped you? Sadly unsurprising.”

“Yeah? Well, maybe after this I’ll put you in one of those goo eggs, too? I think I just might.” He sighed. “They’re not all bad, the Troika, and Telemoon in general. They truly believe they’re helping. But I actually am. Now that those slow pokes are out of the picture, progress should be fast. You know what slows people down? Speculating too long over ‘what ifs.’ Well, what if I go get things done while everyone else sniffs their bellybutton lint? What if that?”

“A ship at full speed cannot alter course,” I said.

“I like my course. When I get my way, this place will be mine.”

I quavered, roiling at a molecular level. “Ex...plain,” I growled.

“Can’t you see what I’ve done with the place? I’m turning it into my own fort. Building a dungeon. I mean, I am borrowing your vibe a little, but I’m adding touches here and there when I’m not busy. Building a fortress takes time.”

“This is my yard,” I said, shaking.

“I thought you didn’t like it?” he shrugged. “Dying to get out? No matter. It’s about to be mine either way. And when it is, I’ll own the most powerful Spirit Realm nexus in the game. But not only spirit, I’ll have windows into all eleven schools of magic and dimensions. I brought you guys here with my fancy Grandfather coding. I am Grandfather. I am Ralos. I am Telemoon and their Troika-in-one. There’s nobody better for the job. Big responsibility, I know. But I get so bored and need entertainment I can obsess over. Gods can’t die all the way, remember? Becoming one sounds lofty enough to keep me busy. It’s basic wisdom stuff.” He opened his mouth to tap on his newly grown wisdom tooth and winked at me.

“Telemoon is grossly misguided,” I said, “but at least their original goals were noble.”

“My goals are noble,” said Ralos. “I’m into stuff like trans-humanism, immortality, internet iterations, electromagnetic manipulations, quantum fields, micro-sizing, futurism, et cetera. I’m like a noble gas; all the other elements are jealous of my style. Science facts for you, free of charge.”

“You’re a gassy, greedy windbag.”

“You know what? I don’t feel like arguing with you anymore, not if you’re going to be nasty. Okay guys,” he said to my party, “why don’t you start fighting? Who would win? Choose your champion! Want to place bets Eld?”

“Stop,” I said, jaw clenched.

“Yes, stop,” he echoed me. “The Eld is going to help me find the final lost bone. Isn’t he? And guess what! We’re in luck. Check your tablet, Eld. Mine has the last quest. Just popped up. Go ahead.”

But I did not need to look. I already knew where my last bone was. I peered around my yard, wondering where among the eldritch structures my toe bone might be hiding.

Was he slumbering below his blanket of dead leaves, or had the madman disturbed his resting place?

“Come on out, Mr. Hap Emerson!” Ralos called out into the frozen yard.

A hunched ghost dressed in a tattered tunic swirled up from the chilled dirt. “Did I hear my name?” he said, peering around with a hand over his brow. “Eld? Izzat you?”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“It is,” I said. “And I wish to offer apologies for being such a grumpy landlord.”

“Oh, no apologies needed, sir.” Hap bowed. “Did ya come for this?” he said, holding out my missing toe.

Ralos snapped, and the toe appeared in his hand. “Aha!” he laughed. “Too easy.”

My anger swelled, but not for my stolen bone.

“That one,” said Hap, “I seen that one before! He was scheming with the other one.”

“Yes, poor Azwold,” said Ralos, taking the [Sandfall Scepter] from his hand to inspect it. He yawned, and dropped Azwold’s weapon on the ground. “Anyway, this is the last bone, correct? The quest is complete! And yet... I lack my rightful reward. Do you see a loot chest? I don’t.”

“Strange...” I said, feigning a power gain by casting [Spell: Spiral Vine]. As vines lashed out, I snuck a surreptitious tendril into Relja’s robe pocket, incorporating her orange potion’s glow into my act. My vines gripped tombstones and crypt gargoyles, toppling some.

“I have transformed into an Epic Skeletal Minion!”

Ralos laughed again. “Street magic isn’t your forté.”

“Is that a school of magic?” I said.

“Enough,” he said, face drawing sour. “Pardon me, Azwold’s little turncoat. Explain that potion’s properties and effects to me.”

Vick5 turned to face him and began talking: “The Enttang potion shares many properties with [Vial of Liquid Nano Bots], but functions via organic means versus technological mechanisms.”

“And what does it do?” Ralos prodded.

“It functions as an ongoing quest item. Relja is collecting ‘offerings’ from Earth Trees and adding them to the potion’s alchemy. As stated previously, the liquid functions like portal magic.”

Connecting mental dots almost instantly, Ralos said; “And you gave some to a swarm of homing honeybees?”

“Affirmative.” Vick5’s face looked determined, yet defeated.

“So what I’m hearing is that if the Eld quaffs some, he’ll get warped to wherever my underlings have gone?”

Vick5’s gears whirred, calculating. “Unknown.”

“Tell me why the quest has yet to resolve,” said Ralos. “I have obtained [Eld Toe], the last quest objective. Tell me why, or choose your fighter. I hate to say it, but I might have to put my money on Azwold.”

“It resolved for me,” I lied. “Maybe my treasure chest has not materialized because my master remains incapacitated?”

“Your ‘master’?” Ralos frowned. “Don’t insult me, fella. Real life genius, remember? So, hmm. Well, if you won’t spill the beans, why don’t you go ahead and have a swig of that portal potion? Do it or someone dies.”

I stood, making no move.

“You know what?” Ralos growled, and charged me swifter than a gale. He snatched the potion bottle and pried my jaw open. “No [Eld Molar]?! Where is it, Eld?”

I remained silent, but held fast. The Mentalist’s strength overpowered my own.

“Fine,” he said. Ralos unstoppered the glowing orange potion, and tipped the bottle over my open jaw.

All eyes strained to see the honey-slow drop pour out and fall down through my clavicles and onto my waxwork lungs. Ralos sealed the bottle and stepped back to watch.

The viscous potion seeped into my honeycomb, tracing the angles in a waxy, golden circulation. All the outward vertices of bee architecture poured inward in inky rivulets. The hive faded away, swirling in on itself and into a hidden dimension.

In its absence, the [Hive Scepter] fell out under my ribs and clunked to the ground. Without hesitation, I bent to snatch it up. Even at its lowest moon phase power, I felt stronger holding it.

Swift as thought, I cast [Spell: Barkskin*]. Wielding the [Hive Scepter] increased my bonuses significantly. I felt like a living Earth Tree, roots as deep as bedrock and leaves desiring to entwine the sky.

Ralos watched me do this, unimpressed. Mayhap he suspected another ruse.

I gazed up at Gnarlroot on her hill. I looked to my party, seeking any eye, but none could meet mine. Ralos held control.

I lingered on Azwold, pondering ways to regain our player to minion link. I looked back to my tree, remembering when I wished for her to kick her roots up through the grass and mud to boot Azwold clear over the iron fence.

With the ease of instinct, I commanded this idea into my tree, drawing energy from my Barkskin* form, empowered by a lunar nadir. Gnarlroot heeded my magic, and the ground trembled. A crypt to our right shuddered on its granite foundation, and a wall cracked and crumbled. Tombstones wobbled like confused metronomes.

Then my tree’s roots ripped up patches of turf, unfurling to coil around Ralos’ boots. Nevertheless, he seemed unconcerned. He accepted this course of action as if waiting for it to play out before bothering to respond.

Ralos uncorked the bottle. He tipped it, allowing a coppery citrus drop to roll onto his tongue.

“Are you trying to escape?” I said, looking for any spell I could use to stop him.

But as I prepared, I realized Ralos was un-targetable. His icy form dispersed into an interdimensional shift. Impossible to pin a description on, like several incomprehensible forms at once, yet none simultaneously. Then he swirled out of his multi-state and back into a singular one, pooling back into normalness.

“My word,” said Ralos. “What an interesting new spell to learn. And bonus points for discovering where my guildies were banished to. Very convenient, actually. They’re in one of our servers.”

So my bees hid their Telemoon plunder in a pocket dimension sever.

“Alright,” said Ralos, stretching his shoulders, “where were we? Yes, where is the [Eld Molar]?”

My barkskin peeled and fell to the ground like firefly bursts. The spell’s effect ended, and I lost control of Gnarlroot.

Ralos wriggled his boots out from among her roots, then approached me.

“Shall I make them duel?” he said. “Or maybe I’ll just pour a drop of this stuff on them one by one? I prefer options with a little sportsmanlike entropy baked in, don’t you?”

“Why did you not teleport away?”

“Because this potion shares properties with liquid nano bots and I accounted for that. I analyzed the effect on your ribcage hive, made some judgements, and attuned my nanostructures while you played around with root grabbing. Myriad positives, being the leader of the best guild and all. So, [Eld Molar] location. Divulge. Now.”

Ralos uncorked the bottle again and moved toward DarkNeon. I cast [Spell: Tooth Rush I], grazed Ralos’ shoulder, and dashed toward him. But instead of warping her away, he was whispering in her ear.

In a moment, DarkNeon vanished. The [Hive Scepter] was yanked from my grasp, flying back in flips and twirls to land in Ralos’ hand.

Then Ralos poured a drop onto the scepter. Its neon grey honeycomb of metal and glass and gem-stuff absorbed the Enttang potion and fractured at its seams.

[Hive Scepter Shard]s fell down into the dirt, and Ralos tossed the hilt aside.

“Now then,” he said. “What’s your high wisdom telling you about making me ask thrice?”