– Beginning of Arc 2, Undying Defiance –
– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 215, Season of the Setting Sun, Day 8 –
Isille opened the door and saw the two bundles of misery staring blankly into nothingness.
“Get up and get dressed,” ordered Isille. “We are going for a walk.”
Lori and Jorg did not answer. They had barely spoken a mouthful of words since Terry’s disappearance a week ago. They could not muster any will to question their mother’s commands. In silence, they followed Isille outside.
Isille led them to an area in the Guardians’ training grounds. There, she picked up two practice short spears. She shoved one to Lori and one to Jorg.
Jorg accepted the spear with numb apathy. Lori furrowed her brow and looked unwilling, but she accepted the spear, anyway.
“That is enough of you two shutting yourselves in. Tiana, Siling, and Elena have teamed up to do mission work. Miguel has signed up for the tracking squad’s preparatory curriculum. Gellath has registered for freeze therapy. Even Calam has finally found some sense and he is going to join therapy together with Gellath. I do not care what you choose to do, but I expect you to do something besides drowning yourselves in your own thoughts.”
Jorg kept his empty eyes down on the spear. Lori gritted her teeth but said nothing.
“If Terry is dead, then there is nothing you or I or anyone can do about it.”
Tears ran down Lori’s face.
“Do not try to suppress your grief. Remember this feeling of guilt. Etch this feeling of helplessness into your heart. Have it become a part of you, but have it drag you forward instead of dragging you down. If you do not want to lose your loved ones, then work to improve yourselves. Learn to better protect them and to better support their growth.”
Isille shook her head. “If Terry was here, do you believe he would be happy with you shutting yourselves off in his memory? Or would he quote some lines from that book of his instead? Do you not believe he would give his life so that you could live yours? Then live! Do not forget, but also remember to live!”
Isille looked at her two children and sighed. “That being said, I myself believe that Terry is still alive. I do not have any evidence. I choose to believe, because that is the only path in which we can make a difference.”
“What difference could we make?” retorted Lori.
She threw her practice spear on the ground. “The best trackers of the Guardians have come up with nothing! Not even the Guild was of any help! For mana’s sake, what could I do that they have not already done and done better than I ever could? Please, just tell me…” Lori’s voice trailed off into a whimper.
Jorg tightened his grip on the practice spear.
“Soon,” started Isille. “Some of the Guildheads will stop searching. The Guild only pays by results. Their time is valuable and they have no personal incentive to prefer one mission over another. It has already been established that this is not an easy mission – not even for experts. Even if the promised reward is huge, their math naturally includes the time invested as well. Some may still figure that they have a new idea worth trying. Some may persist for a while because they have already sunk so much time into it.”
Isille looked into the distance. “Eventually, they will all stop. The Guardians will pay attention for longer, but they cannot divest resources indefinitely, either – not without anything to show for it.”
Isille met Lori’s gaze. “Eventually, there will only be us that are looking for Whaka Terry. That is what we can do.”
Isille bent down. She picked up Lori’s spear and held it out to Lori with one hand.
“Or is trying our best too much to ask for our whaka?”
After a pause, Lori stepped forward and received the spear.
***
“And again, nothing but ghouls to be found.” Terry sighed. “So much for the easy to reach areas.”
Terry sunk his consciousness into the ring on his left ring finger. In his mind, Terry could see five markers floating in the air. Terry erased one marker and then created a new marker for his current location.
Afterwards, Terry turned to get back to his latest cavern residence high up in the walls.
Good job, Terry. If your whaka are trapped in here with you, you are really making a difference. Big help you are.
“I’m trying alright.” Terry paused. “Great. Barely a week alone and I am already losing it.”
Is it bad to talk to yourself?
“No, no. I’m sure that’s perfectly normal. Absolutely fine. Nothing to worry about.”
Except for your companions. Companions that might be running out of food.
“…or have turned into ghoul food.” Terry clenched his teeth. “They are fine. They must be.”
I thought you were past your wishful thinking phase?
“Shut up.” Terry closed his eyes and took some deep breaths, which caused him to grimace. “Ugh, I’ll never get used to this stench.”
‘Never’? How long were you planning to stay?
“Hah… Okay. One step at a time. One step after the other. Focus. Focus.”
Eventually, Terry arrived back at his cavern and sat down. He looked over the hordes of ghouls roaming beneath. They mostly ignored him as long as Terry did not come too close. Luckily, they only attacked with teeth and claws. They had no means for long-range attacks.
Terry leaned back and laid down on the floor. He stared at the ceiling.
“Has it really been a week?”
How would I know? Don’t get much sunshine in here. No stars, either. The mana-crafted watch does not work. The mechanical clock gets distorted when in the storage items.
“Maybe I should keep the mechanical clock in the cavern?”
Maybe knowing the actual time would be incredibly depressing?
Terry sat up again. “I still have supplies. I need to thank Pa Bjorln for his repeated nudges to stock more than I thought necessary.”
Even though it bordered on neuroticism.
“Well, maybe he was trapped in a crappy dungeon once upon a time as well,” grumbled Terry.
I’m sure the experience will be nothing but beneficial for your own mental health. Right?
Terry scowled and exhaled a sharp breath. “I’m sure Lori and Jorg got the same speeches, nudges, and less than subtle hints.”
But did they listen and take them to heart?
Terry bit his lip. “Gellath, Elena, Miguel, and Tiana don’t carry storage items with time deceleration. Did they pack non-perishable provisions? Tiana probably did.”
Gellath and Elena probably did not.
“Miguel might have.”
But Miguel prefers restocking on the road and usually supplements his supplies with hunting. Not much edible game in here.
Terry looked over the ledge again. “Well, at least the stench is good for curbing the appetite.”
He turned so that he had the ledge on his right. His back rested against one side of the tunnel and his feet were touching the other.
“Alright, now that we have established that I won’t be able to help anyone anytime soon, let’s focus on the essentials.”
Terry spoke the last words in an imitation of Samuel’s tone. He really hoped that he would be able to drop these habits again outside the dungeon.
“All the paths I looked at led to huge gatherings of ghouls or dead ends.”
No way around a fight. Can’t avoid the things forever.
“Unfortunately, ghouls were only touched on in passing during the mana cursed introduction. They were mostly referenced as comparison to zombies.”
The zombie plague may overpower a living being, which results in a life turning. In contrast, the ghoul plague acts as a weakening poison on the living. A turning only happens when the poisoned victim dies while the poison is still in the system. Less problematic for mana cultivators, but very problematic for the manaless.
“Yeah, if a ghoul has inflicted you with poison, then chances are it will rip you apart shortly after, anyway.”
Ghouls are also supposed to retain more of their intelligence after the turning.
“Great.” Terry clicked his tongue. “Alright, no idea. What would others do?”
Terry retrieved a notebook and his trusty practice pen.
“The Veilbinder?”
Yeah, I don’t think we’ll quickly get to his level.
“Tse. Defer judgement, you little pus weasel. ‘Start with the possible but impractical and then get to the practical.’”
Be my guest.
“Thank you. The Veilbinder?”
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Freeze them. Burn them. Blast them. Shred them.
“Uhh…”
Crush them. Throw them. Break them. Shock them. Oh, and don’t forget decay, petrify, explode, and disintegrate. Disintegrate always sounds very intimidating. OH oh oh, and ignite the ghouls’ mana and have them erase themselves! That is so awesome.
“Alright, this won’t work.”
Told you.
“What about after he had sacrificed his mana foundation?”
Find a narrow path. If none is available, create one. Trap them. Cut them apart with his sword. One by one. Repeat for years until the ghouls are all gone. Maybe inspire them to better their ways and have them choose him as their new leader.
“Puh-blblbl…” Terry sharply exhaled air through his closed lips. “Traps. Narrow path. Eliminate their numbers advantage.” He scribbled in his notebook.
“Saint Petra?”
Cast a holy light sanctuary that purifies the ghouls all at once?
“Alright, next. Saint Dalia?”
Have the shadows swallow them whole.
“Find a place to throw them from. Kivis?”
Stalk them tirelessly. Ambush them one by one.
Terry underlined the ‘Eliminate their numbers advantage’ entry he had written before. He paused. Then, he added a new line. “Pull them out of the group.”
“The Valkyrie?”
Force magic. Crush them into a pulp. Rip them to shreds.
Terry puckered his lips. “Let something heavy fall on them.”
How about less legendary figures?
“Unca Samuel?”
Probably some insanely obscure and weirdly specific spell that eliminates a group of ghouls when they add up to a prime number.
“Not helpful. Auntie Brynn?”
Constructs. Lots of them.
“Not available. Hmm… Perhaps ‘Find Allies’?”
Yeah, right. I believe you already covered that when you failed to find your companions. Remember the ‘failed’ part?
Terry frowned. “Ma Isille?”
Scowl at them angrily until the ghouls flee in shame and terror. Terry snorted. Or pick a suitable spot and eliminate them one by one.
Terry recalled the day he had first entered the training grounds when he had seen the practice match with Isille. In the match, Isille had used minimal attacks to influence the golems formation and prepare a way for Bjorln.
“Hmm… Herd them into a specific direction.”
“Pa Bjorln?”
Ice punch. Fire punch. The end.
“Fire. Lori?”
Liquify liquify liquify. Terry tilted his head. Harden. Rockspall Touch.
“Immobilize them. Shrapnels… Shrapnels…” Terry leaned slightly to the right – outside his hole in the wall – and then looked up towards the ceiling. “Stalactites… Puh-blblbl…” Terry squeezed air through his closed lips, which caused them to vibrate noisily.
“Jorg?”
Spear? Or explosives like they used for the swamp boas.
“No explosives available. I only have some sticky traps.”
“Siling?”
Good question. Probably use the wiremoss tarantula to navigate the wall and use rock spears from a distance.
“But where would you even aim?” Terry furrowed his brow. “That part wasn’t part of the mana cursed introduction class.”
For zombies, you need to destroy the nervous system. For vampires, you need to inflict sufficient damage to the circulatory system before it can regenerate.
“What about ghouls?” Terry squinted down at the ghouls. “Guess I’ll have to find out.” He wrote down ‘weakness’ and underlined it twice.
“Tiana?”
Beat them until they crawl back into their graves of their own volition.
“If I knew how Tiana comes up with her plans, I probably wouldn’t need a notebook. Anyway, Miguel?”
Coldfire-aspected arrows.
“I have the coldfire-aspected spear and dagger.” Terry put his finger on his lips. And edited his previous note. “Fire of whatever kind. Ranged attacks.”
Make sure not to suffocate yourself. No windows in here.
Terry looked around. “How do dungeons get ventilated, anyway?”
That’s a question for Instructor Samuel. Probably not the time to start a thesis on dungeon architecture.
“Gellath?” Terry winced. “I hope he’s okay. Please, let them all be okay.”
Gellath alone? Hide.
“Already doing that for what may or may not have been a week. Works until it doesn’t.”
With support? Line them up, followed by Cone of Cold.
Terry underlined the ‘herd them’ entry.
Maybe try to drown them? Terry remembered Gellath’s Summon Water spell.
Terry scrunched up his face. “Can ghouls drown?” He circled the ‘weakness’ note. “Not sure if I could even catch enough water to drown that many…”
“Elena?”
Normal companion Elena or angry berserk Elena?
Terry frowned. “Normal Elena.”
Would have to fight her way through. Duel shield to their ugly visages. Once they have fallen to the floor, use the bladed part to pierce them where it hurts.
“Trip them?”
Terry was scribbling another note when he noticed a commotion with his mana sense. “What’s got them all excited?” He returned the notebook and pen to his dimensional bag.
Terry used his roped rings and imprinted equipment to quickly navigate the dungeon area and arrive at the location of interest. He squinted his eyes. The ghouls practically fell over themselves to claw at a specific location.
“Wait…” Terry focused on his mana sight. “Isn’t that…?” He swung himself even closer.
That’s a mana core!
It was the first sign of a dungeon creature that Terry had encountered in this dungeon.
“But the core is so tiny.”
And the noisy neighbors don’t let me see anything.
Terry walked through the air until he was right on top of the hubbub. He still had to keep some distance, because he did not know how high ghouls could jump.
Terry looked at his left hand. To the pile of ghouls below. Back to his left hand.
Not our enemies. More like a sparring partner.
Terry cast his gaze up to the dungeon ceiling and clicked his tongue.
“I am going to give you the benefit of the doubt, dungeon. If that thing turns out to be a grievance toad, I’ll feed it to the ghouls.”
Perhaps we can domesticate a pet ghoul?
Terry imagined a ghoul sitting on the floor and begging for food at the table – using ghouly puppy eyes. He shivered. “Eww.”
Terry concentrated on his mana sense and channeled mana into his Gravitational Attraction glove. He had never targeted a mana core before – or anything that was still contained in something else. However, since he could not see the rest of the dungeon being, this was the only option. He did not even know if it would work.
It did. A tiny mana core zipped into his left hand. The horde of ghouls turned their heads towards Terry.
“Uhh…” Terry waved his hand slightly.
Why am I doing that? They’re not friends, Terry. Bad creatures. Poison. Plague. Undead.
“Yeah yeah.”
Terry ignored the horrifying stares from below and examined the dungeon being on his left palm.
“Slime, huh?” There was a small, white blob.
Terry scratched his nose. “Were you bigger before? Did some of your squishy bits stay behind?”
What happens to a slime if you pull only at its core? Terry shrugged.
“I don’t recognize your aspect.” Terry prodded the slime with his finger. The slime wiggled annoyedly.
Wait, how do you wiggle annoyedly? Terry furrowed his brow.
“Anthropomorphizing?” Terry clicked his tongue.
Losing it.
“Absolutely normal. Nothing to worry about.” Terry exhaled sharply. He turned his attention back to the slime. “You don’t look like much of a dungeon critter. A seed mouse would probably pose more of a threat than you.”
Terry could hear Jorg’s voice in his mind: ‘What’s even the point of these things?’
“Do you have a point, little one?” Terry poked the slime again. He walked over to a crevice in the wall.
“If slimes resemble aspect beings, then you are supposed to feed on mana. Hungry?” Terry channeled a bit of mana into his finger and infused it into the slime.
The slime hurriedly retreated from Terry’s finger – as hurriedly as a slime could manage, anyway.
“Hmph.” Terry frowned. He shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I figure oscillating mana is more of an acquired taste. Not pet material then. I won’t let you nibble on my aspected items.”
Terry moved his palm to the crevice. “Here you go. The ghouls won’t get you here.” The slime moved from Terry’s hand and disappeared into the crevice.
“Put in a good word for me with the dungeon. If it could open up a passage, that would be nice.”
Terry looked from side to side. Nothing happened.
“I don’t know what I expected.”
Something entirely unreasonable.
“Shut up.”
Losing it~
***
Bjorln silently stepped into their home. It was already late, and he did not want to wake the chipmunks. The twins had faced trouble sleeping since Terry’s disappearance.
Thankfully, Isille convinced them to pick up training again. Physical exercise was one of the best treatments for a troubled mind.
Folk’s stress-response evolved to prepare a body for an explosive burst of energy consumption – beneficial for rapidly escaping from a terror grizzly, but very detrimental over extended periods. Psychological stress inflicted the stress-response without the physical need. Exercise finally provided the body with the outlet that it had been preparing for.
Additionally, exercise provided a state of focused and structured attention – a state of Flow. Clear goals, immediate feedback, and a sense of control could do a lot to remove awareness of the worries and frustrations of everyday life.
The exercise tired the chipmunks out and an exhausted body found sleep easier. All in all, the training offered a multitude of coping mechanisms and sleeping assistance. It would be a shame if Bjorln disturbed the bit of progress that they had achieved in getting the twins back to normal.
Bjorln heard a muffled sniffle and jolted towards the sound. He saw his favorite armchair in front of an extinguished fireplace. On the armrest, he could recognize an elbow – a familiar elbow attached to a person he loved very much.
Bjorln snuck over and discovered his chosen life partner. His beloved Isille was bawling her eyes out.
When Isille saw him, she slid over to the side and looked at Bjorln with a trembling lip. Bjorln crawled up. He put his arm around her and she rested her head on his chest. Bjorln gently caressed her face – her teary, snotty mess of a face.
“Nearly all Guildheads have given up,” whispered Isille. “Guardian management wants to talk to me, too. I can’t…” She took a deep breath. “I know this talk. I have given these talks. The first one. The second one…” Isille sobbed. “The last one. I know what’s coming. I don’t want it to come. I just…”
Bjorln kissed her on the forehead. He brought his face closer and rubbed the tip of his nose against hers.
“Not when I’m all snotty,” complained Isille, but she finally managed a slight smile.
The two passed a moment in silence.
“Could you tell me that Whaka Terry is alright? Even if you don’t believe it? I need someone to tell me he’s okay.” Isille’s pleading eyes turned up to Bjorln.
Bjorln kissed Isille’s forehead again and held her more tightly. “I would never lie to you, my life.”
Isille pouted, but snuggled closer to Bjorln.
“There is still hope,” said Bjorln. “Whaka Samuel thinks so, too. He has spent practically every free moment inside that accursed dungeon. Whaka Brynn, Khaled, and I will join him again tomorrow. You know how relentless Whaka Samuel gets when something doesn’t add up.”
“‘When lost, start at the beginning’?” quoted Isille.
“Yeah. Only this time, it’s much more intense than his research projects. I think the combination of Whaka Terry being missing and a dungeon being involved has triggered something in him. On the one hand, I’m thankful for it. On the other hand, I’m worried about him.”
“Whaka Brynn looks over him.”
“Speaking of worries – how do you think the chipmunks are doing?”
Isille considered her answer. “I believe Lori’s temper will push her through the worst, but she may overdo it. Her need to prove herself works against her when there are things outside her control. We should pay attention that she does not end up pushing herself too hard.”
Bjorln nodded in response.
“I’m more worried about Jorg. He seems…” Isille searched for words. “Lost somehow. Lori has found her voice again, but Jorg remains completely resigned to everything. I can’t recall him talking back to me about anything since Terry’s disappearance. He does exactly as he’s told and not a single thing besides – nothing of his own inclination. He walks around like an empty shell and it scares me.”
“You keep an eye on Lori. You understand her better than I do.”
“Not as if my understanding helps me much in knowing what to do,” grumbled Isille. “Sometimes, I wonder if I misjudge how much she resembles me, or if I am just really bad at predicting how I would have reacted myself.”
Isille noticed Bjorln stiffening up. “No comment required.”
Bjorln relaxed again and gave his Isille another kiss. “I’ll make some time for Jorg. I need to go climbing soon to gather ingredients. I’ll take him with me.”
The two huddled closer together.
***