43. The Bone Maidens

Despite rolling in more Liminal Karma than she’d seen in her life, Serac’s latest leveling session proved to be a brief and unsatisfying one.

The upgrade from KL-18 to 19 required a whopping 3,146 क, taking away more than half her total and leaving an awkward 1,970 क she couldn’t ingrain. Here, she was reminded of Trippy Version 1’s warnings about the ‘downside’ of a Wayfaring alliance. She likely wouldn’t have made it this far without Zacko’s help, but at the same time, having to share the spoils of their smitings did slow down her personal progression.

After a moment of internal debate, she spent the points on [Substance] for the first time, going against her usual priority of ‘need’ over ‘want’.

[REVOLVER Base AV: 111 -> 113]

[PULVERIZER Base AV: 89 -> 91]

[PHYSICAL Mitigation: 17.0% -> 17.6%]

[ZEALOUS Mitigation: 9.7% -> 10.2%]

She regretted her choice, nearly as soon as she locked it in. Two measly points of unimbued AV seemed so trifling when she could’ve upped her HP and given herself a few extra bullets to work with. She consoled herself with the reminder that the two per bullet translated to 110 additional points of damage when multiplied by a full Cartridge.

In a way, this latest bit of leveling had catered to a ‘need’, though not strictly in the Wayfaring sense. It was Serac’s petty need to feel ‘stronger’, in the most direct sense of the word.

As such, the first thing she did as she broke form meditation was to flex what passed for her biceps and try to convince herself that they looked slightly bigger than before she sat down. She tried a few different poses and any number of mental gymnastics, but to no avail. Perhaps her [Integrity] was too high.

With meditation out of the way, Serac looked back towards the cavern’s center, where the adult trio of Sundara, Meetra, and Zacko continued to watch over a child’s healing body. She took in the image with another pang of guilt.

While Serac had been busy agonizing over her puny, insecure self, Zacko had foregone his own turn at meditation to instead stand vigil over Dashi. It was clear that the two so-called ‘Bone Maidens’ had yet to fully earn the Manusya’s trust. For someone who was a self-professed womanizer, Zacko certainly took his sweet time warming to any new woman he met—even ones as kindly as Sundara and as conventionally beautiful as Meetra.

“It’s just as well, really,” Trippy offered his objective view on the matter. “Even if Zacarias Borges-Juventus were to meditate right now, he doesn’t have nearly enough Karma to do anything with it.”

As callous an observation as that was, Trippy was right, of course.

Thanks to diligent Wayfaring and some help from Secondary Transfer, Zacko had gotten so close to climbing his way out of debt. His latest activation of [Sinner Aspect], however, had undone all that good work in spectacular fashion.

Trading 15,000 क of Karma for 15 seconds of unbridled power. As awe-inspiring as that burst of power had been, the exchange rate didn’t strike Serac as a fair one.

The Wayfaring duo must’ve Wayfared halfway across Naraka by now, yet one half of that duo was still stuck on KL-16—the same Karmic Level he was at when they’d first met at the Damnatorium. That simply wouldn’t do. When next the two of them might have a chance to ‘strategize’, Serac would urge Zacko to dial back his use of VISAGE even further and instead rely on her to get them through tough spots.

Rely on me? When I can’t even pull my own weight during a boss fight?

In her moment of weakness, she let that thought sit for two Ksanas, half-hoping that Trippy might come in and offer a more balanced view to make her feel better. When no such guidance proved forthcoming, she sighed and rose to her feet, dusting off more bone-colored powder as she did.

What would Version 1 think if he saw me like this? This isn’t very Zen of me. Not at all.

Serac forced herself to trudge over to the central mound—not because she had anything to offer, but simply because she felt self-conscious about wallowing on her own. Besides, perhaps it was high time she and Zacko learned more about these Bone Maidens and how they might figure into their journey, if at all.

As she arrived, she was both heartened and a little disturbed to see that Dashi’s appearance hadn’t changed. A faint rosiness still colored his cheeks, but he was far from his healthy cinnabar self. Neither had he stirred an inch since the ‘healing spell’ had taken hold.

“How long does this usually take?” was the first thing Serac asked as she took a seat across from the Maidens. Beside her, Zacko remained silent and on his feet.

“It’s not for you to question the ways of our Lord,” was the snappy and glare-framed response from Meetra.

“The long and short of it is that it depends,” Sundara offered, throwing a sidelong glance at her younger partner as she did, “on numerous factors. The nature and extent of the injury, the constitution of the wounded party, as well as the quality of the dust itself. All we can do for now is observe… and adjust our treatment accordingly.”

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At this, Serac frowned slightly. She asked, “This dust… there’re different levels of quality to it? I gotta say, it all kind of looks the same to me. This, the stuff from the storm outside, even the powder that broke off of Hanuman. How do you know if this batch”—she nodded toward Dashi’s dust-covered chest, fighting down a queasy sensation as she did—“is any good?”

“If you’re going to disturb our work with your prattling,” Meetra again, her glare as cutting as her words, “I insist you make yourself scarce and find better use of your time.”

“It’s quite alright, Meetra,” Sundara cajoled, voice never rising above her baseline. “The Wayfarer is merely curious about the ways of our Lord. What kind of Maidens would we be if we didn’t take this opportunity to bring another soul into his shroud?”

Meetra turned sharply to her older companion, with her glare expanding into obvious surprise. She then had the grace to blush, before pursing her lips and shifting her sullen gaze to the ground.

“If you’re a Wayfarer, then you should already be familiar with this concept,” Sundara continued for Serac’s benefit. “Just as the souls who roam the slopes of Mount Meru range widely in power and esteem, the Bones that underpin those souls also differ in their innate quality. This is why we must ever strive to bring more of Naraka’s lost children into the fold, so they may bask in our Lord’s shroud and grow under his guidance.”

Despite the older woman’s kindly eyes and soft-spoken words, Serac’s frown deepened a touch. If anything, Sundara’s ‘answer’ had only muddied the waters. It’d certainly contained several loaded words here and there—ones a former prisoner couldn’t be so quick to nod along to.

“It’s all part of his greater plan,” Meetra cut in then, but not before letting out an audible tsk. It appeared she’d lost patience with Serac’s reluctance to get on board. “The dust. The children here in their sanctuary. Even your task to subdue the Huskbound Sentinel, of which… I can commend your swift success.”

“Right,” Serac said slowly, not at all sure that she was following. “That… task came straight from the Bone Lord, did it? Even though Dashi was the one who gave it to us? I am curious though. Why?”

“Why what?” It was Meetra’s turn to deepen her frown.

“Why did Hanuman seem so hell-bent on breaking down the walls of this [Sanctuary]? I mean… didn’t Hanuman also, you know, come from Bone? Wasn’t it part of your Lord’s plan?”

At this, Meetra threw a brief glance at Sundara. Serac knew that look. It was the look of someone who herself wasn’t entirely sure of what she was trying to explain.

“This too should come as no surprise to a Wayfarer such as yourself,” Sundara took over smoothly, framing her own answer with a kindly smile. “Even the Bone Lord’s most devoted children may, on occasion, be led astray. The important thing, as you ought to know, is we find our way back onto the correct Path in time—or suffer the consequences.”

Serac couldn’t help but narrow her eyes slightly, in addition to a frown that wouldn’t quite unknot itself. As a hell bumpkin who’d spent nearly all her life in prison, she’d never profess to be a credible judge of how other souls should or shouldn’t behave. Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this Sundara and her fellow Maiden weren’t as Anchored as Pathsight identified them to be.

She glanced up at Zacko, trying to gather from his impassive face whether he might be wrestling with the same doubts. The Manusya didn’t return the look, instead persisting with his one-sided staring contest with the Bone Maidens.

“But”—Serac turned back to the women—“it was finding its way back, wasn’t it? Or trying to, anyway.”

A silent stare from both women, one in which their confusion was apparent.

“What was?” Meetra asked.

“Hanuman. Or the Huskbound Sentinel, as you called it. I still don’t know why it was trying to kick down these walls, but somehow, I doubt it wanted to hurt the children.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because it wouldn’t hurt Dashi,” Serac said, finally putting to words the strange dissonance she’d felt during the fight. “Not intentionally anyway. Not until… Dashi himself…”

She stopped and took a shuddering breath. Despite her supposedly inborn ‘Zen’, Serac still had trouble leaving behind the trauma of her latest battle.

“Speaking of Dashi,” Sundara said then, smoothly redirecting the conversation, “Meetra? What do you reckon?”

“I’d say the progress is wanting,” the younger woman said, looking down at the unconscious boy with a notably softer expression than what she’d spared for anyone else in the vicinity. “Shall I?”

“Yes,” Sundara replied with a perfunctory nod, her tone as mild and calming as ever, “I think you shall.”

At her senior’s approval, Meetra rose to her feet, producing the same ‘urn’ with which she’d previously poured bone dust onto the child’s body. Across from the Maiden, Serac simply watched, with her burning questions momentarily doused by her greater need to know that Dashi would be okay.

Absent any of her earlier awkwardness, Meetra strode over to a gaggle of children who’d joined them on the central mound. The children also lacked their usual childish energy as they each looked up to the woman with somber, somewhat hazy eyes.

Meetra took several seconds to scan the faces of these children. Her gaze eventually settled on a boy, one who was a little older and larger than Dashi but no less youthful in appearance. She beckoned for him to stand, and the boy obeyed, absent delay or hesitation.

As soon as the boy got to his feet, Meetra—in one smooth, practiced motion—unsheathed her sword and slit his throat.

Serac was too stunned to move. Too stunned to do anything but to watch in frozen horror as a second ritual of an entirely different nature unfolded before her.

The boy fell limp as soon as Meetra’s blade went through him. She caught his fall, then cradled him in her arms with a tender—almost loving—strength. Arterial blood, lurid in its redness, spurted and stained the Bone Maiden’s robe and armor, but she seemed to pay it no mind, concentrating instead on the boy’s wide-eyed expression as he held her in his dying gaze.

The blood ceased its flow. The flesh dissolved into Souldust. And the Bones morphed into fine, pale-gray powder, which then streamed neatly into the open mouth of Meetra’s urn. Through it all, none of the other children moved a muscle, with their somber eyes still glued onto the Bone Maiden herself.

Carefully—almost lovingly—Meetra re-lidded the urn and held the whole container against her chest. She then spoke a few words of soft, reverent prayer, before rejoining Sundara beside Dashi’s body. As she knelt, fresh blood snaked through the stitchings upon her armor before dripping onto the ground.

“There,” Sundara announced to the group, along with a small conspiratorial smile that was clearly directed at Serac, “let’s hope this ‘batch’ is of a higher quality than the last.”