30. First Hope
[Designation: ASHVANAGA the Resurgent Fortress]
[Steed Class: INFERNAL]
[Anchored Realm: NARAKA (Base)]
[Item Description: They say that if you build it, they will come. That certainly was the case with the ancient mobile fortress of Ashvanaga, which became the Rakshasa army’s all-important rallying point during the Great Hellbreak War of the 16th Kalpa. But a hero’s victory—even, or especially, that won with the sacrifice of countless allies—is but another fleeting monument subject to the vagaries of time and history. What is heroic in one Kalpa may be the most heinous of sins in another. And even a mighty fortress could crumble beneath the weight of its own Penitent soul. Yet, it’s also true that, sometimes, all a downtrodden soul needs to rise again is for another to come along and share its burden.]
***
Now that Serac and Zacko had the means to get moving again, they… took a few days to enjoy some R&R.
It didn’t take long for the new batch of would-be Penitents to integrate into the Last Sorrow community. Their see-saw transitions from freesouls to prisoners then back to freesouls had been so abrupt and brief that most were more bewildered than scared or despairing. A good chunk of them even knew some of the Sorrowers from their pre-Penitent days, which led to tearful reunions and good vibes all around.
Sorrowers new and old gathered around the Hubstation’s giant lotus flower, testing the cliffside cave’s capacity limit to the max. They danced on callused feet and sang with parched throats—a dramatic key change from the dour prayers that once filled this exact place.
As much a fixture as Serac had become amongst the Sorrowers, she did find herself hanging back during these moments of communal jubilation. She couldn’t help but feel a little out of place—like she hadn’t earned her place among people who could call each other ‘friend’, ‘lover’, or ‘family’. And who could blame her? Up until recently, she’d been a ‘lifer’—in the most literal sense of the word.
Yet, it was also during one of these intimate celebrations that a pair of revelers extricated themselves from the masses to seek Serac out.
“This is for you,” Indira the seamstress said shyly, one hand held out to present a small object to Serac, and the other hand wrapped tightly around Pazu’s. “We made it together.”
“Well, technically, I helped gather the materials, but Indira did most of the work.” Pazu wore a bashful smile as he said this, a lopsided one to match his healing horns. “A keepsake. For you to remember all the good work you and Zacarias did here. May it bring you some luck on your journey ahead.”
With apologies to Indira, it took Serac some time to decipher what the object was meant to be. But that was more to do with her own ignorance about the larger world than any shortcomings in the seamstress’s skill.
A little figurine, stuffed with the pink desert sand and wrapped in the translucent layer of a Flesh-fiend’s molted skin. A pair of painted pebbles represented round eyes that looked a little too large for its face. It had four limbs like most creatures Serac knew, but it folded them in an exaggerated crouch that was unlike anything she—
“Oh, I know what this is!” Serac exclaimed, overly delighted with her own ability to connect the dots. “It’s a frog, isn’t it? Like the one in Ravi’s story. Wow, this is really good, Indira!”
She meant the compliment with all her heart—and a little something extra. Before she knew it, she was forced to transfer the frog figurine to her PULVERIZER hand, just so she could reach up with her right hand and wipe her tears that flowed suddenly and freely.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I don’t know why—I’ve never—”
“It’s okay. It’s alright.”
Indira overcame her usual shyness (and PULVERIZER’s craggy bulk) to bring Serac into a hug. Even Pazu put a tentative hand on the Wayfarer’s shoulder, his eyes also showing a gleam that hadn’t been there a second ago. Serac gave herself to the warm embrace and cried, loud and unabashed.
I’ve never received a gift before. That was what she’d meant to say. That was why she’d been so confused by her own tears. And that was also how she learned that a Rakshasa—even a Penitent lifer like herself—could cry for reasons other than pain or sorrow.
Long after the couple took their leave, Serac stood staring at her gift with an irrepressible smile.
The more she looked at it and held it in her hand, the more she loved it. It was, without a doubt, the greatest piece of art she’d ever come across (granted, the competition was rather thin), and it seemed incredible that she got to own it, along with the right to pull it out and admire it anew anytime she wished.
The thought warmed the heart. The thought was healing—to soul, mind, and body. And she held this healing thought within her warmed heart as she clipped the pink frog figurine onto her belt, sliding around some of REVOLVER’s cartridges to make room.
[Trinket acquired: THE FROG IN THE WELL]
[Realm of Origin: NARAKA]
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
[Trinket Description: Even though all frogs must one day brave the world outside their well, they can be forgiven for wanting something to remind them of where they started. While the trinket is equipped, its wearer is warmed by the thought of family and friendship, thereby gaining [Lesser Regen].]
Serac froze, ‘staring’ wide-eyed at the new information that poured into her consciousness via Pathsight. But there was more.
[Burden: 0/29 (Light) -> 15/29 (Medium)]
[Poise: 70 -> 63 (Penalty)]
[Wayfarer Status Effect: LESSER REGEN]
[Wayfarer Status Effect: BURDENED]
[TRIBULATION active: current buff at 5%]
Okay, now this was a little too much for her to take in all at once. Luckily, she knew exactly who to turn to at times like these.
“Uh, Trippy? A little help?”
“What would you like to know?”
“Everything? Let’s start with what a Trinket is, and how Froggy here came to be one.”
“Trinkets are the physical embodiments of a Wayfarer’s connection with the Realms they travel through—often with the Anchored souls they befriend or otherwise interact with along the way. When worn on their person, a Trinket may confer a special benefit to the Wayfarer, but it also comes with the cost of adding [Burden].”
“Right… and what does it mean exactly for me to be [Burdened]?”
“There are four categories of [Burdenedness] depending on how much your Trinkets count against your maximum allowable Burden—namely [Light], [Medium], [Heavy], and [Overburdened]. A [Light] status has no discernible effects on the Wayfarer, but to my knowledge, it’s also very rare to find a Trinket so low-footprint that it wouldn’t push you over the threshold into [Medium]. [Medium], of course, is the status in which all your actions come at a slightly increased Stamina cost. Your maximum Poise is also decreased, as I’m sure you’ve noted. However, what I find most fascinating is that there are records of Trinkets that by themselves can counteract the penalties to Poise or Stamina expenditure, sometimes by a substantial enough amount to—”
“Okay, okay, let’s not get too bogged down in the details. But this is interesting, though. [Burden] counts as a negative status effect, eh? Which means I can keep at least one stack of [Tribulation] active at all times, as long as I keep a Trinket or two equipped. You also mentioned [Heavy] and [Overburdened]?”
“There’s not much to say about them, other than that [Heavy] will incur a heavier penalty, and [Overburdened]—a status achieved only by exceeding your maximum Burden—even more so. You may find on your journey that [Medium] strikes the most comfortable balance between cost and benefit, but I daresay you’ll manage to run into situations where flirting with [Heavy] or even [Overburdened] might be the optimal play.”
Serac nodded to herself, a bit more hesitantly than she might’ve expected.
Trippy’s explanation had certainly addressed her most pressing questions, but it also seeded some new ones. Like, was Trippy Version 2 always this talkative? And this… characterful?
The snarky edgelord of yore he certainly wasn’t, but he also wasn’t the same bland automaton he’d once been. Something about him had shifted—most noticeably since his latest contribution to taming a rampaging Infernal Steed…
Serac’s attention shifted then, from the newly received gift that so warmed her heart to an old fear that still managed to chill her to the bone. Her hand reached for her face again, subconsciously, this time to feel around her skull in a circumference—at the site of her erstwhile Circlet. It was still as not-there-anymore as the day Trippy Version 1 had taken it with him, along with his Shriven self, and yet—
A particularly loud cheer went up from around the Hubstation, and Serac quickly put her hand down as if she’d been caught stealing. She looked up and saw dancing and laughing Sorrowers, even more energetic than they’d been a minute ago. It seemed as though something monumentally exciting had come to pass, but she hadn’t paid enough attention to know what that was.
That was when a tall, muscular figure separated from the reveling masses and joined her by the cave’s entrance.
Zacko the Manusya had shown no qualms about inserting himself into the Sorrowers’ reunions and celebrations, which was especially noteworthy given his disastrous ‘introductions’ just a few weeks ago. He was, not for nothing, a self-proclaimed ‘man of the people’. Presently, he chose to grace Serac with his in-demand presence.
“What are you standing here all by yourself for?” he mocked with his usual smirk. “Don’t you know that a hero’s farewell party isn’t complete without, you know, the hero herself?”
“Was attending to some important Wayfarer business here, thanks very much,” she replied with false sanctimony, “but I am curious now. What’s everyone cheering about?”
“Didn’t you hear the big announcement? A vote’s been passed, and this place is getting a new name.”
“This place… you mean Last Sorrow? What are we changing it to?”
“First Hope.”
Serac stared at Zacko. He merely smiled and shrugged.
“A bit corny and too on-the-nose,” Serac offered her honest review, then her face too broke into a wide grin. “I love it!”
“I thought you would. It was Pazu’s idea, if you can believe it.”
“I believe it. Guy’s come a long way since his head-bashing days.”
“Yup, and wouldn’t you know it? All brother needed to get out of his funk was to get laid.”
Serac punched Zacko in the arm (non-PULVERIZER version). He merely winked and laughed.
“What about you?” she asked in a softer tone, drawn in as she was by the celebration in the air. “Have you been humbled by your experiences here at the Settlement Formerly Known as Last Sorrow? Or have you become even smugger than before?”
“Oh, you know me, Serac. I’ll never let little things like life lessons and new friendships affect the size of my ego. All I can say is I’ve taught these people well (of course), and I can look forward to a steady stream of Secondary Transfer for a while to come.”
“And you’re gonna need it,” Serac said, a little more sincerely and gratefully than she might’ve expected, “after that stunt with VISAGE.”
Zacko merely smiled and shrugged.
“Come on,” he said, giving Serac a light nudge, “I really insist that you join us. We’re Wayfarers, which means we never know what tomorrow might bring. You owe it to yourself to enjoy nights like tonight, while you still can.”