Chapter 35 - R&R

Divine Memory Crystal

Eris' Field Report – Divine Beast

I realize I’ve been remiss in updating my field reports.

However, the last few weeks have been… eventful.

Upon reaching the “PB&B,” we were attacked and Horus was badly injured. He had no detectable heartbeat for 1 minute and 6 seconds. The culprit was a divine beast. A Toxifovos. A legend in living flesh and covered in quivering steel armor. Between Horus’ injuries and this new threat, we had no choice but to remain at the cottage.

“R&R” Horus called it.

And he was right. It was critical that we rest & research.

Specifically, to allow Horus’ strange wounds to heal, which has taken far, far longer than expected. Internal damage or a consequence of the Toxifovos’ unique toxin, most likely. At least, according to Danae. Apex’s scans of Horus’ vessel revealed little information. My current hypothesis is that his fur blocks my spirit’s nimbus. So, of course, I was forced to conduct a thorough physical examination.

My findings were inconclusive.

Further research is needed.

Of course, such downtime has delayed our pursuit of the Hollow and his companion.

However, the opportunity to study a divine beast was too enticing to pass up. Even close to Asphodel, beasts and vessels with such power are incredibly rare – their movements tracked and their abilities heavily studied and investigated. Such power represents a risk not only to the Orders but to the stability of the whole Five Rivers.

Even more strangely, the divine beast appears to have allowed the Hollow to create structures near its lair – that odd cottage, the poison springs and attached dock, the grove of blood fruit trees in the distance, and the retaining wall that wraps the property, preventing the encroachment of the screaming bamboo. Of course, all of it labeled with Nyx’s name.

This points to one inevitable, impossible conclusion.

The Toxifovos doesn’t view the Hollow as a threat.

In fact, there is some… evidence that they are even on friendly terms.

Specifically, the image carved into the side of the miniature mountain the Toxifovos claimed as its lair. It was hard to make out until the attack – until my spirit had scorched the stone black. Yet, now it stood out in sharp relief. Almost like the Hollow planned for this.

Yet that’s impossible, of course.

The pattern was heart shaped.

And in the center? These arcane symbols:

PK+Nyx

BFFs 4Ever

Was it some code? Some trick? What did “BFF” stand for? Who or what was this “PK?” And why had the divine beast allowed that mad sapien to etch such a message onto the side of its lair? Were they working together somehow? Had he tamed a divine beast?

Of course, I had no choice but to investigate further – to scour the beast’s cave in search of clues. To inspect every corner of that macabre cottage. To study the springs that bubbled and frothed, poisonous gas glowing and wafting in huge clouds overtop the surface. To walk beneath the boughs of those blood-fruit trees—

And that’s where I reached a revelation.

That grove… that grove had been cultivated. Not for mere days or weeks. But for cycles. Decades. Centuries. Far longer than the Hollow could have been present here. Did that imply that divine beast was growing the fruit? A sign of intelligence? Unfortunately, none of the other researchers have lived long enough to confirm whether this is unique to the toxifovos or a trait all divine beasts share.

Even more interesting was how such a grove could exist here. Of course, blood fruit is considered a delicacy within Asphodel, its juice and meat containing huge quantities of nimbus – the roots fertilized with dead vessels, their nimbus recycled. Typically, the juice is distilled many times and alcohol is added to help preserve the tincture. Even in such a form, small quantities are enough to heavily accelerate a vessel’s growth. Many royal families have their children drink such tonics from a young age. Consequently, large tracts of the limited land around Asphodel are devoted to the plant’s cultivation.

However, the blood groves thrive in a nimbus rich environment. It is unheard of for a grove to exist in the Outer Reaches, where the nimbus is thin and the vessels weak. So, how have the trees grown out here? And not only grown, but thrived? The fruits on those branches are several times larger than normal.

After extensive study, my working hypothesis is that the screaming bamboo forest makes an ideal growing environment – however ironic that might seem. Normally, the bamboo would encroach on the trees and devour them. However, the Toxifovos must have been cutting back the vegetation – as evidenced by the massive piles heaped outside the walls and the claw marks etched deep into the soil.

The creature then shredded the bamboo into a coarse mulch – laying the substance in big heaps around the base of the blood fruit trees. More monkey corpses were piled on top of that, their bodies slowly destroyed by the bamboo as its tried to regrow, creating a bloody slurry that the trees are able to readily absorb.

Yes, that’s right. The trees are being fertilized.

Not just with corpses – dead and desiccated vessels – but with plants.

Something previously thought impossible.

My research then pivoted to the bamboo. Why was this incredibly invasive species being used as fertilizer? Previous attempts to study the bamboo were considered too dangerous – the risk of infection too high. Many such facilities had to be purged with flame and fire. Yet the introduction of the poo-crete offered a new solution. A way to contain the bamboo and study it safely. Or… more safely.

After dissecting the bamboo and studying the flow of nimbus with Apex’s assistance, the answer became clear. The bamboo absorbs the nimbus from the mists that cascade off of Cocytus. The tubes regularly contract, pulling the mist down into their depths, leaching the nimbus from the water and then expelling the remaining vapor with a wheezing cough.

This explains the plant’s incredible growth and regenerative properties. Each stalk is brimming with nimbus, the younger ones similar in strength to a bronze-rank vessel. However, the older tubes are closer to silver or even gold.

And when combined with the monkey corpses, the trace amounts of poo-crete stored within the monkey’s intestines appear to partially neutralize the bamboo’s regenerative property – at least, enough for the blood fruit trees to absorb the bloody mash. If the grove is then enclosed in more poo-crete, that prevents the forest from encroaching on the grove and from any trace amounts of fertilizer from escaping.

The result is a blood fruit grove that can grow in an otherwise nimbus-poor environment. Safely. With minimal risk to the surrounding environment.

This—this is incredible! Remarkable really.

The scientific discovery of the century!

If such an operation could be expanded – the bamboo cultivated intentionally – it might even be possible to grow the blood fruit all along the banks of the five rivers. This would represent a massive increase in arable land. It would also allow local vessels to increase their strength and help bolster the power of the Orders’ ranks – especially if the fruit was refined into high-concentration elixirs or pills.

The results are extraordinary and should more than compensate for the casualties incurred during the gate and our pursuit of the Hollow.

Now, all that’s left is to follow our quarry.

We are only waiting for the rain to stop…

End of Report

* * *

PB&B Outdoor Patio

Eris

The rain pitter pattered against the poo-crete umbrella that hung overhead, each droplet sizzling as it landed, sending up a small tuft of steam. The rain here was highly acidic, likely due to the poisonous springs, that glowing green gas stretching out across the sloping lawn, creating pockets of glimmering emerald among the haze.

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Far too acidic to leave the safety of the cottage. Danae and her spirit were not strong enough to withstand the poison. Not yet. Not for tens or hundreds of miles.

Fortunately, that me more time to pursue my research.

“Are the springs important?” I murmured aloud, eyeing the papers littering the surface of the table – all of my notes and diagrams – as well as glass jars filled with samples.

There had to be some reason that the divine beast had chosen this location. The poison seemed to have no effect on the blood grove or the poo-crete – despite being highly toxic to organic matter. It appeared that the toxifovos might have poured small amounts onto the fertilizer to help create the blood slurry and delay the regenerative properties of the bamboo. However, in my tests, it wasn’t strictly necessary.

“Perhaps to drive away the monkeys?”

That could be possible. They would likely be attracted to those blood fruits and that toxic gas quickly ate through the monkey’s fur and skin.

“That’s the question you’re focusing on? Really?” Apex demanded.

“Can you honestly say you aren’t intrigued?” I shot back. “You’re looking at one of the biggest scientific breakthroughs in centuries. A way to leech nimbus directly from the rivers. We could reduce our casualties substantially with this.”

We could drink the river water, of course, but it didn’t bind to the nimbus as strongly as blood or organic matter. Typically, rare ingredients from the corrupted gates were used to create tinctures and teas. Plants and creatures stolen from the depths of Tartarus. Flesh and blood made ideal vessels for that energy.

“It is fascinating,” Apex agreed. He’d been much more willing to lend me his powers for my research. “However, I feel like you’re avoiding the real question.”

“And what question is that?” I snapped back, growing frustrated.

Why was he always like this? Forcing me away from my research?

“Isn’t it obvious? Why are we still here—”

“Ahh, a fresh batch of tarts just came out of the oven,” a deep voice suddenly boomed across the little courtyard that rested just off the cottage – a table and chairs and my umbrella perched on a patio of poo-crete.

The tavros held an umbrella made of more poo-crete in one hand to ward off the acid rain – there had been several anchored to the wall next to the front door. And in the other? A tray of pastries, crimson fruit bubbling around a flaky white crust. They smelled divine.

I quickly sat up straight, organizing the papers scattered across the desk – the results of my research. Drawings of the various plants. Tentative designs for a more sophisticated blood-fruit farm – a commercial operation that would span dozens of acres.

Horus set down the tarts and my stomach growled loud enough to drown out Apex’s complaining and irritating questions. And one bite was enough to settle that buzzing anxiety in my stomach – that feeling that always arose when Apex started asking his questions.

“Wow, they’re so good,” I mumbled around a mouthful of tart. “What is it?”

Horus looked proud, standing there in his huge apron.

“Something new. I had an idea. What if I were to refine the bamboo into a flour? Could I bake with it? One punch was all it took. Then I added a small sprinkle of that poisonous spring water to prevent the bamboo from regrowing and more fresh water to create a paste, which I kneaded and then rolled flat. For the filling, I chopped up blood fruit, simmered it in river water, and reduced it down.”

He glanced back at the cottage, a thick plume of smoke wafting into the sky.

“Then it just took a minute or two in the Hollow’s oven. It is very hot.”

“They’re fantastic,” I murmured, already on my second.

Horus looked flattered, bamboo flour stuck to his fur in small patches.

“They even have this little kick to them. What is that?”

“Ahh, some ground mushrooms from the garden,” he answered.

Of course, the giant glowing toadstools that were growing along the wall of the cottage. I recognized them from the hell sewer – Nyx must have brought some back and replanted them here. My brow furrowed. I hadn’t had an opportunity to study them yet, too distracted by the divine beast and the blood fruit grove.

“I’ve been meaning to examine them more carefully,” I offered. Especially since Danae seemed addicted. She was just sitting under another umbrella, a half-eaten platter of barbeque sliders resting beside her and her eyes staring blankly into the distance. After a few days, she’d taken to crumbling up the mushrooms into a faintly glowing paste, drying them by the fire until they turned into a powder, and then sprinkling them on her burgers.

“Or, you know, we could just leave?” Apex cut in. “Chase this Nyx person? Answer all of our many, many questions about him? Or have you forgotten our mission?”

“I haven’t. But the rain prevents us from traveling safely.”

An excuse. I could likely blast away the storm front with Apex’s help. However, I also didn’t want to endure answering any more of his irritating questions.

“Besides, my research is important,” I snapped back, that buzzing anxiety returning with a vengeance and my shoulders suddenly feeling tense again.

“Or you’re just looking for an excuse to procrastinate,” he shot back dryly. “I wonder why, hmm? Maybe it has something to do with your personal chef there?”

“That’s not—”

However, I never got a chance to respond. Not as Horus’ strong hands wrapped around my shoulders, kneading at those fresh knots as I let out an involuntary groan of pleasure. How was he so good at this?

“You look tense,” Horus observed. “Here, have another pastry.”

Another bite and my remaining tension melted away.

In my defense, they were really, really good.

Several minutes later, Horus soon took a seat beside me, the two of us just watching the rain, the clouds of poisonous gas. Neither of us talking. No one peppering me with irritating questions. It was peaceful. It even reminded me of…

“Of what?” Horus asked suddenly.

Ahh, had I said that out loud? That was odd. However, I found it difficult to care at the moment, another pastry already in hand. The food always made me feel so calm.

My eyes gazed into the distance, the memory flickering through my mind – sharp edges sanded down by the weeks we’d spent in this cottage.

“Ahh, I was just thinking of my childhood,” I murmured. “This reminds me of the family estate where I stayed as a young vessel. It was always raining there. Just like this. The servants would bring us pastries in between our lessons and fighting practice.”

“They made you pastries?” Horus asked in confusion.

“Maria did,” I amended with a nod. “The supplements were too bitter – those tinctures and pills. So, she worked them into my meals instead.”

Horus chuckled and my cheeks flushed.

Likely just the warmth of the pastries. Yeah, that made sense, right?

Certainly not the way his glowing white eyes watched me with such intensity.

“Not your parents?” Horus asked.

I scoffed. “Hardly. I didn’t see my mother or father for my first thirty cycles,” I explained. “They sent me to the estate. For my safety, they said.”

As I saw Horus’ confusion, I continued, “The royal families are quite competitive. Dangerous. Assassination among families is common. Expected really. It helps forge us into stronger vessels.” I couldn’t quite remove the bitterness from my voice as I stared down at the fresh pastry in my hand.

In fact, this was the first time I’d had one in centuries.

Ever since my maid – my surrogate mother – had tried to poison me.

It was still so vivid. Maria’s beaten and bloodied face kneeling before me, my small hands wrapped around her furry throat, fire blazing down my arms. Her tears evaporating, leaving scorched black streaks down her cheeks and her tails twitching. My instructors watching calmly, looking for any trace of doubt or hesitation or emotion.

A scared mother staring back – her real children kidnapped and held as blackmail. Her adopted child delivering her execution.

Yet I’d had no choice. No option but to grasp for something – anything – to anchor me; to make sense of this. To answer the questions that buzzed through my mind.

And then there it was. Logic. Cold and calculating and inevitable.

Her children were just vessels.

This woman – just a vessel.

Merely containers for what really mattered.

I repeated that over and over and over like a mantra. Willed myself not to feel the pain in my chest, to hold back the sobs that threatened to burst from my chest, to not let any of those unwanted emotions show on my face—

“Born into battle. Much like the herd,” Horus grunted.

I looked up sharply to see him watching me, his gaze knowing – a bottomless well of hardship and suffering and pain reflected there; one I could easily get lost in.

We held each other’s gaze, a tenuous connection hovering between us. New questions came to me then – not about Nyx, or his madness, or my brother’s motives, or the divine beast, or those delicious, macabre fruits. No, these were about Horus. About his life. About the tavros and the herd. Where had he grown up? What had his childhood looked like? How had he come to join the Order? What had created that pain so similar to mine?

And why had I never thought to ask before now?

Maybe I hadn’t wanted to know the answers—

A whistle emerged from the cottage, a shriek that destroyed that fragile connection.

“Ahh, I forgot I left some tea on the stove,” Horus gasped, rising swiftly and barreling back toward the cottage, his umbrella lying there forgotten.

Sparkling acid rain touching his thick fur, only to ripple off harmlessly.

I watched him go, feeling conflicted. Almost… upset?

“What is wrong with me?” I muttered, shaking my head.

What was this weakness? These questions? These memories – buried deep but never truly forgotten. No matter how many centuries past, I was still that little girl.

I could ignore it. Distract myself. Repeat a new mantra – one filled with all of my many, many questions. All to avoid another…

“Why am I still here?” I murmured.

That’s what Apex had been trying to ask.

And now that the question had been put into words, my spiritual tormentor was quiet. Too quiet. Not offering any acknowledgement, any answer.

Yet my eyes gave me away as they stared back at that cottage.

“Would we make a cute couple?”

That’s what Apex had asked. Just before Horus died.

And when pressed – with my back to the wall – my answer had been yes.

Maybe… maybe that was because that’s how I truly felt?

Or maybe this was just history repeating itself? Was Horus another Maria? Another weakness? Another vulnerability?

My eyes shot down to the table, to those pastries. Not laced with a poison potent enough to kill – but perhaps just enough to subdue? To force me to relax; to drop my guard? To render Danae incapacitated and staring blankly at the mists? To get her out of the way?

More questions I’d been avoiding…

My fingers pulled a small jar from my pouch, touching the cool glass gently. Nestled inside was a tuft of fur – Horus’ fur. It had been severed when the Toxifovos attacked, his impressive body limp and broken and bloodied. I wasn’t sure why I’d kept it – not at first, anyway. A token? Some strange sentiment? Or possibly curiosity?

Especially as I watched it mend itself. Push out the blood and paralytic venom. Regrow. Regain its lustrous shine despite no longer being attached to Horus.

And as the days past, a new question taunted me…

If the Toxifovos had nearly killed Horus – had managed to slice through his impossible, impenetrable fur before, why didn’t its spines cut it now? There had been plenty lying on the ground – each gathered and stored for my research. Certainly, enough to test my theory with a quick stroke—

“Ahh, here we go,” Horus boomed once more, emerging from the cottage, two steaming cups and a crude metal tea kettle resting on another platter.

I quickly hid the jar – that incriminating evidence. Tucked it away and buried it once more – at least, from sight; from Horus’ far-too-perceptive gaze.

Yet as tavros set the tea on the table and I took a sip, the questions remained.

Why was Horus helping me? Why was he here? Had he always known how to cook like this? How had he learned these recipes? Was he poisoning me? Danae? Was he really working with my brother? And to what end? Some sort of scandal? The succession? And how did Nyx tie into all of this? Was he just a coincidence? Was he working with Kastor and Horus? Some sort of agent of the Order? One capable of subduing a divine beast?