Sextus and Tertius were having a grand ol’ time. The small warrior had thrown their timetable for the march to Loften out of whack in a good way, though her timely appearance was quite suspicious. Luckily, if she was a spy, she was either the worst one north of the Imm, or she was on their side after all. Tertius assumed they were far enough north to at least be past that river. He was at least eighty percent certain.
“Hey look who’s waking back up again,” Tertius said as Alexanders body showed signs of motus mortis, movement in death.
Sextus flicked the prone man’s helmet and with a start, Alexander shook awake.
“Welcome back to th’ land o’ living dead, brother. No worries, we ‘ave yer souls safe ‘n secured.”
Blearily, the mute looked around as if he’d been folded like a towel and hung up to dry.
“I am returned.” He signed.
Sextus nodded. “Indeed. Memory exam: Who are ye?”
“Alexander.”
He nodded again. “What did it say on yer tombstone?”
“Born post dei 313 in Miraculum, died 338 post dei in…” The mute pondered for a while. “Don’t know the rest.”
“Good ‘nuff.” Tertius placed a pebble on the seventh story of his model castle, waiting for it to fall. It didn’t. “And what’s the best legion?”
Alexander scratched his bird beak. “Forty… ninth?”
“Aww, ‘e’s messin’ with us. Obviously, it’s th’ 41st. 41st best legion!” Sextus laughed, elbowing him roughly in the chest. “Now, get yerself some water an’ we’ll check what else ‘s missin’.”
“Where is wheat–girl?”
Tertius scoffed, eying first Alexander, who after meeting his gaze looked away, then Sextus, who was pretending to be busy peeling the bark off gathered sticks.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you two eyeing the totally–not–a–spy. Ruthe above, spare me from these lovestruck fools. We’re the cavalry, we have a mission, brothers, and we’re all dead besides. Not much fuckin’ to be had without a–“
Alexander fell into a hefty coughing fit, gaining an eye–roll of Tertius before he realized the young undead was actually coughing up parts of his lung. Quickly, they helped him up and brought him to the bowl for a drink. After taking in what must have been a few liters they young legionnaire hung back, slurring signs with shaky hands.
“Less water. Becoming thinner. Need more to drink, definitely.”
The others shared a glance between themselves, then with the water.
“Stupid magical water. Doesn’t fit in containers, doesn’t even make you wet.” He spat to the side. Sextus made a scrunched face. “Come now, both of you, I have a project you may redirect your ardor into. I’ve a plan, a plan that’ll work best with detailed models.”
A silent splash fell upon them as something horrid rose from the water in the bowl. They huddled around, armed with knives and a single shield between them in the short time they had. Training beat quickness into them, though it didn’t give them longer arms.
It had wings like a roc, a head like a lion, eyes like the forest and was armored in steel and a gods-damned telluric chestplate, the gold–red gleam of the metal unmistakable. Sextus had once told Tertius how he had seen a general wearing one take a ballista bolt to the chest meant for killing forest beasts. When they pried his mangled corpse from the armor, the only thing that remained whole was his chestplate, nary a dent in place. A shame the human body was so frail but then again, the armor was made for those with greater physique, for divine servants and immortal warriors.
The creature rose to a respectable two meters – two-fifty – and stared at the assembled legionnaires, giving their drawn swords as little attention as one would the ground they tread on.
The voice was heavy, like steel cutting through bars of gold. “Wow, you guys got far already. Good job, soldier boys. Actually, wait, is this your doing?”
The creature – and it did not look human – held out a misshapen ball of… well, he thought it a miscolored meatball before he heard it speak.
“Could’ve… just… walked…” two lips on the ball-shaped person gurgled.
“Hah, I like your lip. What are friends who can’t deal in a bit of friendly ribbing?” She kicked the package like a leather ball and it rolled to a stop next to their bowl of respite.
It was only Alexander’s slow reactions and Tertius’ physically keeping him back that kept Sextus from storming the figure as they saw the package deform like putty, vague shapes cracking into limbs, mouths and one blue eye moving around until they found a face.
The girl known as Elia sputtered, coughing as she blinked back to awareness. One look at her face and Tertius felt he had to revise all his plans for the assault on the castle. She was beaten black and blacker.
“O–ow,” she said before the figure picked her up and dunked her in the bowl. She came back up with the look of a drowning kitten, but not a single blemish. They all may as well have been kittens in front of a bulldog. This girl was becoming more trouble than she was worth.
“Fat man, tell me if she’s lying or speaks the truth.” The thing playing at knight pointed at Tertius. “If you don’t, you all die, starting with the young one.”
A cold shiver ran down every legionnaire’s spine. They were all caught with their pants down, armor off and only their backup weapons at the read. Worst of all, the woman knew of Tertius’ boon.
“I, um, really don’t know anything...” the Elia girl said, almost a whisper.
“Shut. Up.” Once the woman had all their attention she spoke to Elia. “Are you the traitor?”
“N–no? No! I’m an empire citizen, a good prima.”
The knight’s gaze fell upon Tertius.
“Truth.”
She scoffed. “Aight, you know who is or might be the traitor? It’s simple really, all you have to do is snitch and save the world. Or, well, you’ll save me a lot of trouble at least.”
“N–no?”
Sextus glanced at Tertius. His hair was clinging to his forehead. For the moment, the intruder was focused on Elia.
“Truth.”
It didn’t take a genius to feel the displeasure in the knight’s voice. “You’re fucking with me. You’re telling me that you made it out of the maze, killed a giant and an oversized dog and somehow, you’re not a plot relevant character?”
“I–I don’t know what you’re talking about! Please, I swear, I didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Truth.”
The figure squeezed the girl again, eliciting a painful yelp that was quickly drowned in the healing water. Tertius couldn’t let his brothers take a single step forward. It was no use fighting an immortal soldier as a mortal but for a moment the three were a hairs breadth away from piling on, casualties be damned. They just had to treat it like a forest beast, like the good old days.
The figure shuddered, then looked to the sky. “Again? Aw, man, guess I should wrap up here. No hard feelings, kay?” It casually stepped back into the bowl. They weren’t all dying today it seemed. “If you wanna come looking for me, I’m with the old faithful. Now, be good while I’m off. I’ve got a bit of an invasion to beat. Oh, before I forget.”
She flung a handful of green shining things in their direction before sinking beneath the waters. “Gotta pay for goods and services. Be good legionnaires now, don’t go into the forest, die well. Ciao.”
Sextus and Alexander near stumbled over each other to offer their cloaks to the shivering girl while Tertius went to pick up the five or so uncommon bone shards. The show of wealth was staggering, and the thing had trusted him for some Ruthe–forsaken reason to say the truth just because it somehow knew he could smell it.
He hadn’t told the truth. Once at least, the girl doubted her own words. It wasn’t because of some ill–put feeling of debt that he did what he did. He didn’t care a lick about the girl. But his brothers, for them he would lift the world.
“What in the hells? Blast, just came out of the bowl like that. Dangerous, dangerous.” He turned to his model, now partly toppled. The bowls weren’t safe, the figure could reemerge at any time. All the more reason to reposition soon. Though that the figure was so insistent that Elia knew something only made her more intriguing in his eyes.
With a sigh, he began rebuilding his castle model. Let Sextus and Alexander deal with the wandering trouble magnet. He was going to pave their path to the rest of their brothers, to Loften.
----------------------------------------
“I said I’m fine. No, I don’t need any wyckwax, the bowl is literally right there. I don’t care if it’s ‘contaminated’ now and – hey, stop, NO TOUCHIE! Don’t fucking baby over me or I will take your kneecaps and use them to play hockey!” Elia shooed the soldiers away before staggering towards the bowl of respite outside the walls. That was an unpleasant experience, but at least she could find some solace when Rye did not guess who Rhuna might really be looking for. The Old Maiden was safe as a dreg could be, probably wandering the maze again. “So. Rye. Do you still believe we can solve our problems diplomatically?”
Rye was silent. When Rhuna had returned, she had tried to reason with her, possessing Elia’s face and voice. Not that either of them had expected to have the woman break her face in instead of listen. Why even go so far if she was going to verify everything she said through Tertius? And how did she know he had a boon for that?
“She thinks we’re her friend.” There was a rather large possibility Rhuna would be less than enthused once she realized the feeling was anything but mutual. How did someone like her treat her enemies then? “We’re so screwed.”
She just picked us up and… folded us into a sphere. She played ball with us. I-I think she swapped some of my toes. Can you check Elia?
Elia looked down. Her toes were in order. She wiggled them again, just to be sure.
I… don’t have the words to express what just happened.
Neither did Elia. Time for a poor joke. “Police brutality. First time?”
I’m an empire citizen, I didn’t do anything wrong!
“That’s what they all say.” Elia chuckled darkly. “I think you downplayed the part on prejudice against undead. She didn’t even treat us like a person and now we’ve got a superpowered murderhobo out there looking for us. God, we are so fucked.”
… is she really looking for us? I mean, we’re just an undead, right? The attendant said all undead go to Loften, we shouldn’t be the only ones. We’re not that special.
“Rye. Between that bitch not only remembering past loops, but also talking like global resets are a common occurrence, how can you believe we are not the problem? We were lucky she was so self-absorbed or she would have done much worse the moment she realized our deaths reset the world.”
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Oh. Oh… O-oh b-b-beans.
“Yeah. Oh beans.” Battling through hordes of undead and monsters was one thing but evading the authorities when the authorities were a jack-in-the-box assortment of supervillains while keeping her role hidden added a whole new level of difficulty Elia was frankly unequipped to deal with.
She just wanted out of the maze, not to be involved in whatever next game the world cooked up for her.
E-elia? C-calm down, your laugh is creeping me out.
“But I am calm! Calm with fury. Calm with rapture!” Wiping away a tear, she shot to her feet and spread her arms. “I finally have something that can really, truly hurt whoever put me in that fucking maze. Can you hear me? Your inquisition was this close to catching me, but I escaped! Again! You beat me down, I’ll beat you up! You can’t keep me away forever, because I am terminally and unapologetically AWESOME!”
… please curb your hubris. I fear the smiting will bleed over.
“It’s called megalomania and it’s a hobby.” And she was quite good at it, thank you very much. “We can’t get revenge on that Rhuna bitch, not now. But what we can do is gain more souls. More shards.”
…more boons. More greater souls. More equipment and more allies, possibly friends.
“Glad we’re speaking the same language.”
She deposited the nuptial offering in the smooth pool. The feather floated with barely any point of contact. For a moment, her reflection turned more translucent. The surface stilled until it was static like glass.
Through it the ceiling of Crossroad Temple greeted her, oddly devoid of any churchly artistry. The hooded and mailed figure of the attendant leaned over the side and at once their eyes met. Elia had the inexplicable urge to boop her.
“Boop.”
The impression of soft skin still lingered as she suddenly pulled back. It was a portal, without special effects of swirling rims and colorful lights. The two basins of water were simply connected like opening a window to the outside or – in this case– the inside.
E-elia? Did you just… boop the attendant… on the nose?
“Why yes, yes I did.”
Ok. Why?
“For science.”
The attendant opened her mouth and though she couldn’t hear the words flowing out, the offered hand said enough.
A portal. A goddamn portal. If rewards like that were what awaited her, then she’d die a dozen times over for them. Though there still was the problem of bumping into Rhuna on accident. Her existence implied the possible existence of others like her and Elia preferred finding out if she was in a world full of overpowered enemies before confronting them in any direct fashion.
“We need to lay low for a while. Crossroad temple seems like the perfect place to be.”
With some hesitation she put an arm through the reflection and hoisted herself through to Crossroad Temple. In an instant, she was standing with one foot on the large temple bowl’s rim, one foot still through the portal. The transition really did feel like climbing through a window. She wasn’t even wet, and not a ripple spread to the edges. The bowl’s water simply didn’t acknowledge her existence, or perhaps it existed on another level of reality, like being half stuck in between two dimensions.
Finding out how it worked was another part of her bucket list, as was finding out how magic in general worked.
You could have at least taken her hand.
“Welcome back, Elia.” The attendant looked at her, stepping back to stand somewhat at a distance. “May I ease your burden?”
“Uhh, how?”
“I offer many a service to your kind. I assure you, even with our humble resources, you may find yourself soothed in body, mind and soul by the honest ministrations of an attendant.”
“So, like, massages, acupuncture, that kind of stuff?” Elia eyed her up and down again. She really was making an effort to not to intrude on her personal space. That was nice. Pleasant. “Also, what happened to your ‘thee’s’ and ‘thou’s’?”
“I recall you saying you ‘do not trust someone who speaks in shake spear’. As for my services, I offer anything, anything at all. I merely wish to help.” She bowed and Elia felt herself suffering from whiplash when comparing this to her life a few minutes ago.
Elia. I know we just had a traumatic experience or twelve. But please, grow up. Don’t be abrasive. Apologize.
For once at least, Rye was right. She put on her best smile. “Sorry for socking you in the shnoz. You’re my favorite woman in armor.”
Good. Now, order a special massage.
The slight upturn to the attendant’s lips returned. “The special massage is only granted when all parties give their consent.”
Elia didn’t exactly know how to react to her reading her mind. Sure, they knew she did this at times and it was incredibly practical considering their unique circumstances, but it was always an invasion of privacy.
Awww beans, I’m never getting a special massage.
Elia laughed, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it all. Compared to being beaten and betrayed by the first person she might have been able to relate to, it was a small price to pay for comfort. Who knows, maybe the attendant couldn’t even turn it off.
“I’d rather just level up and go to bed now, if that’s not at all inconvenient."
The attendant held out a hand and Elia only accepted it because her gloves were among the few pieces of her gear not shredded to pieces. Nothing happened.
You have to kneel.
“I bow to no one.” Elia said and immediately knelt down, proving herself a hypocrite. “…unless it’s for leveling.”
See? Respect isn’t that a high price to pay.
The hand started glowing and the breath flowed out of her forming neat rows of happy little words and numbers.
Name: Elia
Age–
“STOP! Stop, stop, stop.” She shot up. After a moment of back and forth, she whispered something in the attendant’s ear.
“Is this your truest wish, undead?”
“Uh-huh.”
Age: 21 (allegedly)
Wow. Now you’re making me curious. How old ARE you, Elia?
She knelt back down. “Not saying.”
Not even to your friend? I am your ‘brain bud’, aren’t I?
“Over my dead body. Attendant, four thousand into my giant’s soul, increase to strength.”
[Body] Soul of the Forlorn Giant [Uncommon]
4000/4000 Moderate Increase to constitution.
4000/??? Moderate increase to strength.
Soul count: x14180
Nothing much happened. No distinctive change came over her physiology like the last time, though she hadn’t been the one in control then and only saw it through a lens. Wait, was that tickle a sign? That trembling feeling, that emptiness in her chest?
A sneeze echoed inside the chambers.
“Not enough?” she asked, wiping her nose.
“Your vessel hungers still. For every step, the demands become greater yet. One might call potential a burden. Are you still willing to bear the costs?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Elia grumbled. She took one look at her remaining souls. “Stupid scaling costs.”
“Alright. Another thousand.”
Soul count: x13180
“Another.”
Soul count: x12180
“Fuck, how many is it gonna take? Two thousand!”
Soul count: x10180
Suddenly, heat surged from within her chest, slowly advancing until her whole body was burning from the inside. The muscles beneath her skin filled out, arms and legs no longer a twiggy mess. Tendons tensed; bones readjusted. In one moment, she felt heavy, then in the next like she could hold up the world with her little toe.
“I have… the power!”
Power!
She flexed her bicep, watching the movement with rapt fascination. She wasn’t the only one, as she could nearly feel the attention of her other half threatening to burst from behind her eyelids.
Oh wow, look look! There’s another patch of healthy skin. My arms, my legs, my muscles are back to normal again. Bless Ruthe, Worga and their children. Bless you, Elia.
Elia was much too busy jumping in place and not being disappointed in herself. She was quite hopped up on that feeling of instant gains. She could get addicted to this.
“Wohoo!” She punched a wall and immediately broke her wrist. “GAAAH!”
ELIA! My poor body! Ewww, stop wiggling it, ew, ew!
A few gulps of magical healing water later she wiped a tear out of her eye, only half theatrical. “Damn, it feels good to be a bit human again. But wait, there’s more.”
She took out Quibbles and squished him gently. He got the message, depositing a small locket and chain in her hands.
Oh, is this a memento of sorts?
"Mhm. I entrust small things with sentimental value to Quibbles. He's my treasurer, isn't that right?" She looked the frog in the eye, slowly pushing the locket back into his mouth. "The other thing, Quibbles. You know the one."
Quibbles, of course, did know. The locket just tasted awful and this was his kind of idea of a joke.
Evidently, Rye didn't get it and Elia was not much in a joking mood, she could still feel the clobbering Rhuna had so graciously distributed across her body. The sludge-dog's greater soul found its way into her hands. It was an odd thing, a ball of yellow water polluted with swirls of dark.
Soul of the Fane Eater
Soul of Vita the Fane-Eater. Once a loyal guard-hound, she was locked away in the northern church after she ate a meal inundated with corrupt tar. Can be crushed in hand for a large number of souls.
Ew. It looks like pee mixed with tar.
“Like an oil spill.” Even for a greater soul, it was unusually rancid. “Say attendant, are there any unwanted side effects to using souls like this?”
The attendant inclined her head ever so slightly. “If you proclaim worry for the vessel within your soul, I may purge it from you in offering to the gods.”
“Guess that’s the best answer I’ll get.” She muttered. “Alright, fill me up.”
[Sense] Soul of the Fane Eater [Uncommon]
0/2000 Minor increase to smell, touch and sight
0/??? Major increase to instinct
Elia let out a low whistle. “A Major increase? Neat. By the way, how can I see which soul belongs where?”
“Thou cannot unless a boon of great strength reveals it to you. As an attendant of the cerulean waters, I may lend some of its power and as such I am able to offer insight into the nature of every soul.”
“Ask the attendant or get a better boon, noted.” She mulled it over but there wasn’t much to decide. “Two thousand to the senses.”
That’s ‘senses PLEASE’.
Elia rolled her eyes. “Please.”
The stream of wispy souls had barely stopped and already was she feeling her eyes bulge against their sockets. More than that, everything felt dirty, itchy and she swore the smell of wet stone was more pronounced than before. The difference wasn’t large, but the world grew slightly less blurry. A worthy investment.
Pleased, she got up and took a look at her entire status.
Name: Elia
Age: 21 (allegedly)
Soul count: x8180
Bone shards: [Common] x12, [Uncommon] x11
Undead cursemark: Quelled.
Greatly diminishes soul. Moderately diminishes body. Slightly diminishes sense and mind.
Vessels:
[Body] Soul of the Forlorn Giant [Uncommon]
Your Body is weak, like a sickly human. You have the constitution and strength of an athletic adult human.
[Sense] Soul of the Fane Eater [Uncommon]
Your Sense is slightly worse than the average human. Your sense of smell, touch and sight are slightly above the average human.
[Mind]
Your Mind is above the average human.
[Spirit]
Your Soul is pitifully weak, like that of an unlearned child.
Boons:
1 - [Spirit] Psychometry [Uncommon] [Essence of Ego]
2 - [Empty]
3 - [Empty]
It was enough to make her skip with joy again. She found herself squeezing the attendant, the hug not as unpleasant as personal contact normally was, before she raced across the temple grounds, stopping only to find she was barely out of breath.
“This is what makes all the suffering worth it.” She skipped down a stairway, taking first two, then three, then five steps at a time. “Not artful mosaics, or anything else in the world.”
I’m too exhausted to argue with you, so I’ll just say that art is subjective, and you clearly don’t have the education or will to appreciate it.
“Fair.”
When she reached the bottom, she landed on all fours and then flipped into a handstand, only to immediately fall over. Coordination was something she’d have to work on. Hopefully it didn’t impact her elite knife-throwing ninja skills too much. She worked hard to get those to work with a sub–standard body but knowing that she didn’t need to suffer through that ever again blew away all previous worries of the day.
“Time for a bath and then a nap.”
And then she would go out, to start her adventure and finally be free of dimpling away in deathless limbo.
----------------------------------------
Wake up.
Take pills. Anti-inflammants. Antibiotics. Vitamins.
Brush teeth.
Watch YouTube while eating bland breakfast. Gluten free. Lactose free. Sugar free.
Minecraft Let’s play #341 – Johnsy steals my horse!???!
The history of the Tamil kings.
Cat video.
Argue on Twitter. Lose.
Work on project, debugging for today.
One hours.
Two hours.
Lie down, migraine, wait for lunch.
Mushy peas, dry bean mash, sausage.
More pills. More cat videos.
How to build a pool using only a shovel.
The outlook for the future after the recession.
Back to coding, find out why petting the cat causes the game to stutter.
Migraine. Lie down.
Sleep.
Wake up at ten, cold dinner.
Still have a migraine. Pop a few Ibuprofens.
Cat videos.
Cat videos.
Knife fight escalates #shitgoingdown #ohshit #cleveland #snuff
Cat videos.
Join Super Mario Odyssey speedrun stream. Donate ten dollars to make a ‘your mom’ joke.
Three hours pass.
Wake up at three, forget to brush teeth.
Check schedule for tomorrow. Today?
No online classes.
Open unfinished project.
Fall asleep watching tutorial on how to make burritos.