Daniel knocked on the door again, slamming the side of his fist into the wood as the evening sun shone through the breaking rain clouds. So far he’d been ignored and was steadily working himself up to ramming strength. The first time was meek, he’d so lightly rapped on the door that he didn’t even hear the noise. But now? Tlara could pretend to be away all she liked, she couldn’t hide from him.
“Tlara, I know you’re in there!” he shouted, this time like he was a belligerent ex. Oh god, not on your life, he thought as he banished the mental image. The woman’s aura shifted as his voice joined the banging, but otherwise she gave no obvious sign she’d registered his presence. Her summoned lightning bird did swoop closer to the house. Daniel was sure it wouldn’t attack him. Probably.
He punched the door hard enough to dent it, but it didn’t budge. It was thick wood set into stone, and even if it was a copy-paste structure it had Builder powers supporting it. Using his talon hands might be enough but would be far too aggressive to make any attempt at diplomacy work. Like that would work anyway, he sulked internally. He just didn’t get Tlara. Sure, some people didn’t get along, and enough had happened that she had no reason to like him, but she didn’t have anyone helping her that he knew of. She was a bigger loner than he was and he needed her help.
Daniel briefly considered climbing to a window before imagining what it would be like to be punched out of a window frame. Kob could get her out of the building, but the whole point of sending Daniel was the hope that he could make her come willingly. That thought made him pause. Make her come willingly. Is that an oxymoron? Ok, now I’m stalling myself.
“Tlara! They’re trapped in the mine. Are you just going to sit here and wait for them to die?” Apparently so. The woman’s aura turned away from him. He could only tell because she leaned back as if relaxing. Daniel sighed and thought about how their interactions had gone so far in the hope that there was something that could help him. Being nice didn’t work, going with the flow made her try to kill Hunter, thanking her for saving Hunter resulted in all of this, the only time it seemed like she was negotiating was…
He puffed up his chest and tried not to let the hesitation creep into his voice. “You’re coming out here, or I’m breaking down this door and dragging you out!” Tlara stood out of the chair. “And if that doesn’t work, I’m just going to get Kob!” Tlara strode over to a window and glared down at Daniel. It made him feel like he was some kind of inverse Romeo. “You can’t just-“ he started until Tlara forcefully closed the shutters and returned to a chair he couldn’t see. Damn it. What else can I do? Threaten her bird? No, she’d probably like that, he thought bitterly. Daniel did have a skab orb on him, he could… glue himself to the door in protest?
Wait, what about music? The phone in his hand could replicate anything he remembered clearly enough. Among the various songs was a selection of loud metal and rock he’d acquired from a popular guitar game, along with a few his parents had been fond of. Eh, why not?
Heightening features was still new to Daniel. No option on his phone offered itself when his features gained that benefit. Instead, it was an intrinsic feeling he had to explore, similar to how his talon hands or parkour feature had been discovered. His current options were hit or miss, though he at least kept his Maps heightened, mentally investing the mana shortly after waking up every day. His Encyclopedia’s new scanning capability was interesting, though attempting it on himself and Hunter revealed nothing new and just seemed like a way to get monster lore and there hadn’t been much left of the plant monsters to try it on. Music had its own improvement that might entice the bird out of her cage.
The app’s volume slider, similar to the phone’s original program, changed when he heightened the function. Instead of adding a little bit more to the end and labeling it ‘11’ as he expected, the slider could now loop back on itself once. “Let’s see how she likes power metal,” he muttered, sliding the volume to about 175%.
Even expecting it, the blaring guitars were so loud he dropped the phone to shield his ears. As he’d come to learn, the phone was far more durable as a Focus than it was back on Earth and the music played on. That got Tlara’s attention, though she only fidgeted and did not move back to the window. After about seven minutes, the song ended without her appearance. A few of the garrison had come out onto the street to investigate the noise.
“You’re a Bard? Wait, did you multiclass?” one of them asked. Daniel was well known enough to the garrison that the supposed revelation was scandalous to those assembled.
“No I’m, ugh,” Daniel began with exasperation before sighing and returning his focus to the Beastmaster. “Tlara! I have a week’s worth of music on this phone!”
“You what?” another of the garrison asked incredulously. Daniel ignored her.
“I’m going to keep playing until you talk with me, and you’re not going to like what I play next!” He mentally queued the next ‘song’. Unlike the Encyclopedia, this app worked off of his memory which apparently meant he could control it by thought. Useful, but that only made the Encyclopedia more aggravating in comparison.
“I’m serious! This next one is going to hurt me just as much as it’ll hurt you!” His finger hovered over the play button as the onlookers stepped back. The challenge went unanswered, though Tlara was behind the shutter now. Was it out of curiosity or anger?
Ugh, Daniel thought as he pressed play. The noise that came out of his phone was from one instrument and instantly set Daniel on edge. It was like a swarm of bees with an echoing and distorted quality. In fairness, Daniel had heard this noise over television and had only been ten during that time, so some degradation of audio could be expected.
The title of the song scrolled across the screen of the phone: ‘Vuvuzela, World Cup 2010’. It was this or meme music and Daniel had to save his biggest guns in case this failed. More of the garrison was running down the street. They probably thought some monstrous swarm was attacking.
In the center of the storm, the monotony drowned out anything else even though he could tell those nearby were trying to scream at him to stop as they stumbled away. Tlara didn’t open the window or come to the door, though. She asked for it, Daniel thought and slid the volume to 200%. Perhaps it was the fear of how much louder the sound could get, or the fact that the shutters had started vibrating, but Tlara finally opened the window. It looked like she was saying something, but Daniel just mimed not being able to understand with an innocent expression. She held up a dagger, almost threw it, and retreated instead.
The door in front of him opened and revealed Tlara. She was still yelling but Daniel could barely make out her voice. The sudden silence almost knocked several people down as the Artificer paused the song. “FUCKING STOP that,” Tlara lowered her voice as she noticed it herself.
“So you’ll talk?”
“Like Crest I-“ The wall of noise was thrown up again and Tlara waved her hands frantically and Daniel paused the song again. He idly mused that flipping the horn sound on and off rapidly could have some kind of effect in battle, though at just as much a cost to him. “Fine!” She stormed back into the house and left the door open.
“Please don’t do that again,” one of the garrison pleaded. The closest one was now ten meters away and a few had weapons drawn. That would have made Daniel nervous if he thought they’d use them.
He gave a commiserating look and pointed his head inside. “That’s up to her.”
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Tlara was waiting inside the common room on the first floor. It was just like the one in Daniel’s house, but sans ringcat. “What was that?” she asked acerbically.
It was finally time for Daniel to make the pitch. “Agree to come with us to the mines and I’ll tell you.”
“Forget it. You can-“ Tlara stopped dead when Daniel reached for his phone. She seemed almost scared of it, and that made him feel a little terrible about himself. Was she more sensitive to noise because she was a bird? He put the phone away and she relaxed only slightly.
“Do you think I want to go?” he asked after a pause. It was only the thought of who was trapped down there that put him here, instead of hiding in his own house. “We’re all we have. Khare’s still regrowing themself and Sigron’s…” he trailed off. There was still a shell of glue on the Knight’s shoulder. The substance turned out to be lightly caustic and was doing unfortunate things to the exposed flesh. Peeling it off would stop that, but the damage had progressed to the point where the only thing stopping him from hemorrhaging to death was that shell. The healers told Daniel Sigron would have died without the patch, which had made him feel a little better about further maiming the Knight.
“Let the garrison handle it,” Tlara said dismissively.
“All the real adventurers left when this place evacuated,” he countered. “Except for Kob, you’re the highest leveled person here. You are level three now, right? No one else here is used to fighting anything closer than a ballista shot away.”
“And you fucking are?” That prompted the first positive emotion from her, though it was humor and at his expense.
It was a fair point though. Daniel had been in four fights. No, five, he corrected, almost forgetting about the sparkbats. It seemed longer than a handful of weeks ago. “This isn’t about me.”
“You very loudly made it about you.” Tlara would be gritting her teeth if she had any. “I’m only talking to you to make sure you don’t fucking come back. And if I have to do something else to be sure of that, I will.”
“So, what? You’re just going to sit here until the monsters come and kill you?” Daniel didn’t back down. He would have, were he the person who had just fought the sparkbats, but the illusion of threat around Tlara had been broken when he had prepared to fight her for Hunter’s sake. She was dangerous, to be sure, but her personality was like the feathers she puffed up. Learning to call that bluff was a sign of the confidence fighting and surviving had been building in Daniel.
Tlara tried to say something, but Daniel wouldn’t yield the initiative. “You know more than anyone what it’s going to take to survive this. You fought the damn thing. No, wait,” he amended. “Lograve fought it while you ran. If anything, you owe him your life, and you’re just sitting here while he’s in danger? And what’s letting the only person to survive fighting the dra-“ Daniel had to cut himself off. The D word was off limits in public conversation and the garrison outside was in earshot. He might have already said too much but plowed on anyway. “You seem like someone who likes having plans, so tell me, what’s yours now?”
Tlara didn’t directly answer him, either in her gaze or her words. “What do you want me to do? I’ve got a giant rhino, a bird, a ranged monster that can’t hit shit in the dark, and an exploding rabbit. The only thing that could work down there was killed by Kob’s insanity unless you’ve fucking forgotten.”
“So just, I mean, can’t we just capture one for you to use when we’re down there?” The question surprised Tlara. Daniel sensed a good argument and took a stab. “Your powers revolve around your beasts, right? How are you going to get more powerful just sitting here? If you need something that can fight in a space like the mines, like what you used against the skabs, then you should be asking to go with us. I’m sure Kob could string up whatever you needed.”
The feathery brow of the Beastmaster scrunched in irritation. Daniel hoped it was due to how well he’d pleaded his case. Eventually, Tlara asked an incredulous question. “What are you?”
“Not a Spiritualist,” Daniel sighed. “Or a Bard, or a Totem Warrior, or even someone that hates you. Sure, I can barely tolerate you.” He waved a hand. “But you’ve given me more than enough reason to go full hatred. Do you know why I don’t?” She just stared at him, and the question was rhetorical anyway. “I know what it’s like to say the wrong thing and push people away. It seems like it’s more on purpose in your case, but I think I’ve got part of you figured out. You,” he pointed at Tlara dramatically, as if he was about to perform a magic trick, “Are lonely!”
Tlara let out a sneering laugh. Even the melodious tones seemed sarcastic coming from her. In disbelief, she said, “Is this your way of propositioning?”
“God no.” Daniel almost gagged, but he was also smiling. His humor and Tlara’s were discordant and at cross purposes. Still, it was an improvement. Even if she denied it, and even if he had been off, Daniel knew he’d struck at something. Tlara didn’t try to change the topic when he was far off base. “This is your way to get better monsters and get in good with Lograve. You said you wanted to be with the strong to survive, right?”
She didn’t have an immediate answer to him. Rather, she scoffed, turned away, and walked towards the stairs, only to turn towards the side. The bird paced in front of him, not an awkward movement like the simpler kin but the steady gate of a biped. According to the Accounts of Artruz, her race had been elevated from a monstrous one. Daniel wondered how Tlara felt about that, and what kind of monster it had been so long ago.
“Alright, I’ll do it,” she said with a straight face. As straight as it could be, the slight curve of the beak made it impossible for Tlara to make an even line with her mouth.
“That’s great!”
“If you give me your ringcat. It’s serious enough that you’ll do that, right?” Her voice needled him with a teasingly sweet tone.
That got to Daniel. Whether or not Tlara was serious didn’t matter, she had said that to get under Daniel’s skin and that fact was enough to get it done. He wanted to punch her in the face, but this conversation was important. Controlling himself and somehow winning over this impossible Beastmaster was important. Daniel slowed his breathing and took his own short pause in the conversation. He’d been doing so well. “Why do you hate everyone?” He held back a wince after blurting the question out. Calming himself had stopped an assault, but there was still an insult that had to be answered and he could not resist.
“I don’t.” Tlara was smiling now. One of her hands was idly tracing a circle on the stair’s banister.
“Name one person here you like. Anyone in the region,” Daniel huffed and threw up a hand. “Anyone in the world! Because to me it seems like all you care about is yourself.”
Tlara chuckled, amused at how worked up this of all things was making Daniel. “Why do you care?”
“Because you don’t make sense! You’re an asocial asshole. You even treat the things that keep you alive like they’re dirt.” Daniel pointed to Tlara’s waist where the fist-sized pouches were kept. “Do you even care about yourself?”
“Are you going somewhere with this?” She was completely unphased and Daniel was out of ideas. Maybe she didn’t care and wanted to just stay here until she died. Maybe there was some game she was playing, some angle she saw that Daniel didn’t, but the facts didn’t allow for it. She would die in this region unless she worked with everyone else to escape.
Daniel gave up. She was running circles around him and completely unmovable in the conversation at the same time. “What do you want?”
“Your ringcat.”
“I’m being serious Tlara. What do you want?”
She nodded with self-satisfaction, like she’d been leading Daniel to this point and was pleased to have arrived on schedule. “I’m pretty sure I can tell lying. Tell me whatever I want to know about your pathetic life and I’ll come.”
A question game? Why? Daniel thought. “How do I know you’ll do it?”
“You don’t.”
Guess I can just stop answering if she goes too far. “Fine. But we start walking towards the mine right now. You stop walking and I stop answering and go get Kob.”
“That’s fine.” She moved towards the door with exaggerated sluggishness. “Where do you come from?”
Crap.
…
Study was a common way for Arcanists to both acquire and advance their class, up to a point. Diminishing returns made all but complex subjects worthless far faster than most liked. A few completely abandoned the habit when it was no longer profitable, though many more chose topics to their liking and made a hobby of reading. Lograve was far better educated. He'd made himself into a librarian after what had happened to his team and it came with the territory. Coming to the Thormundz had meant a chance to carve his own piece of the world, discover the mysteries of the newly freed region of the Octyrrum, and spread it to the next generation.
Knowledge, so prized by the Arcanist, could be a curse. The count of how many of his students had already perished haunted him. The chance of the evacuation’s triumph over the dragon, ever slim, grated on his nerves as it grew slimmer. And now this, this…
Lograve had felt fear when he fought the dragon. Anyone fighting something three levels higher than themselves would. Doing so alone could incapacitate with terror. That fight had been short and ended in pain and disfigurement, but was far from the worst Lograve had felt. On the day of the Upswell, the thought of lives lost and the impossibility of what happened, that had been worse. A stinging, numb dread that the dragon had only briefly overshadowed.
What Lograve saw now at the bottom of the world snuffed all fear and despair from him like pain fleeing from a deep burn wound. Another wouldn’t have known the significance of what he saw, but Lograve knew what it was and he knew what was happening to it. In the darkness, under the mountain, the Arcanist froze with unyielding terror as he watched the end of the world begin to wake.