48. The Lamplit Graveyard

This being their second encounter with Narakite ghosts, both Wayfarers had come up with their own method of making the fight go smoother.

By now, Serac considered herself an expert at interpreting and reacting to the Bhootas’ auditory cues. This rendition of the Chuh-Chah-Cheh-Chih-Choh gang telegraphed their approach with as much gusto as the first, which meant the Rakshasa could ready her response without fail.

[85!] in damage (slightly reduced due to her higher Infernal mitigation), followed by [Blood for Blood] to mark the ghost’s movements. On this occasion, that was all she needed or wanted to do, for there was someone else who could use the smiting blow bonus more than her.

With the [Bleeding] Bhoota now leaving a trail of blood, Zacko too could see the invisible. He followed it with the practiced efficiency of a trained killer, heading it off even as it tried to veer away from the blue glow of [His Sister’s Keeper].

Then, for just one second and not a second longer, the NINEFOLD master channeled the magic of his Erudite Instrument.

[Dreamer Aspect: THE EIGHTH DAO—SPEAR OF COMMITMENT]

For one second, a [Dreamer]’s purple aura overrode the blue, imbuing Zacko’s spearing kick with Erudite energy. The Bhoota couldn’t escape the attack’s dynamic range, nor could its incorporeal form negate the magical damage. It showed itself in its startled, winged-monkey form, before mixing with the fog as newly ground-up Souldust.

Serac confirmed the smite via her own Pathsight: [160 क] to indicate her share of the Karmic reward. Zacko would’ve received the other 240 क; subtract the 100 क he would’ve spent to channel [Dreamer], and he still managed to come out on top.

Chuh down, Chah-Cheh-Chih-Choh to go. The Wayfaring tag team farmed them with ease, settling naturally into their newfound roles. Serac to ‘mark’ the ghosts, and Zacko to hunt them down.

Chah-Cheh-Chih went down in short order to the same strategy. At this point, Serac was forced to switch things up, having run out of MP with which to cast more [Blood for Blood]. Here, with apologies to Zacko, she chose the path of least resistance.

Choh choh CHOH!

In its lonely desperation, Mr Choh charged at Serac front on. This only played into the Rakshasa’s hand, as she was able to ‘block’ the tackle with PULVERIZER. [31!]. She spun at the same time, tracing the Bhoota’s motion with REVOLVER before firing an Infernal-tinged bullet at point blank range.

[142!]. The damage was more than enough to one-shot the ghost, thereby earning Serac the full [400 क] for a solo smite.

Five Bhootas, done and dusted in less than a minute of frenetic yet precisely measured actions. High from their victory, the Wayfarers looked for each other straight away, both smiling ear to ear.

At the sight of a happy Zacko—he who’d overcome his phobia of both ghosts and leveling—Serac was gripped by the urge to do something she’d never done before. She raised a hand, palm out and high in the air. She then held the pose for a Ksana longer, somehow certain that there would be more where that came from.

Sure enough, the Manusya responded by slapping her hand with his own. The contact was solid and crisp, giving off a satisfying smack that echoed across the Bonespire valley.

“Wow!” Serac exclaimed. “What was that?”

“That, my friend,” Zacko said, beaming, “was a high five. A well-earned one at that.”

“Well, we need to do it more often, because that felt really good.”

Zacko chuckled. “I’m sure we will. But first, let’s decide how we wanna tackle the rest of this climb. We could keep going like this, and manage our resources accordingly, or…?”

Serac knew right away what her partner had in mind. And she was already in full agreement, even before the suggestion had been made.

“Let’s take… a more agricultural approach,” she said. “Old man Ravi told me during one of his stories: slow and steady wins the race. I have a feeling there’s a lot more farming we can do here, as long as we’re willing to be patient and methodical.”

It was decided. Instead of continuing up the mountain path, the pair made a quick descent, back toward the Waystation called [Foot of the Bonespires].

Here, they reconstituted, refilling their various resources. Zacko had barely broken a sweat, but Serac could certainly use the break. She’d been by far the busier of the two, having spent HP, MP, and a good chunk of Cartridge.

Afterwards, the Wayfarers fell into a repeatable pattern.

They’d make their way up the mountain, using the pale-blue lampposts as ready-made landmarks. The first trip would take them to the second lamp, then the second trip to the third, and so on and so forth. Between new landmarks, they’d go back to the Waystation to top themselves up before heading off again.

With each lengthening leg of the journey, they also looked for more Bhootas to fight. The Aberrant apparitions, for their part, had spread themselves all around the valley, just waiting to be farmed by a pair of enterprising Wayfarers—or so it seemed to an increasingly curious Serac.

Yet, for now, she set aside her curiosities to instead revel in simple, honest work. She and Zacko were ridding Naraka of some pesky ghosts and being paid in cold, hard Karma. The gains were tangible, both in level and skill. Serac felt herself growing into her own as a Wayfarer, just as her attributes and parameters continued to rise.

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For all its rewards, the work was also a real slog. It took a toll on Serac both physically and mentally, not only for its strenuous demands on her [Substance 7] body but also for its monotonous tedium.

No matter how many lampposts they passed and how many ghosts they banished to the Insterstitium, the scenery around them barely changed. Steep slopes and rocky spires, all amidst a dense, endless dust-storm. It was enough to make a girl wonder if this was the only life she’d known and ever would know—if she’d been born in the dust and would die in the dust.

Yet, as all Paths must lead to a destination, so too did a mountain eventually lead to its peak.

The Wayfarers saw the end of their climb from a mile away. Almost literally. It presented itself as a veritable constellation of blue lights, so bright as to cut through the fog. Indeed, as they reached the source of these lights, so too did the fog dissipate in its entirety.

It was like walking into another Realm. A large open space had been set aside from the rest of the mountain, contained within its own rarefied air. Said area was demarcated by at least a dozen blue lamps that hung from the encircling spires, with their lights combining to form one continuous sphere of clarity and protection.

The first thing that drew Serac’s eyes—and how could it not?—was an enormous lotus flower that sat at the sphere’s dead center. A Hubstation—like the one at Last Sorrow/First Hope.

As welcome a sight as the Hubstation was for a pair of farming-weary Wayfarers, Serac had to wonder about the implications of its being here at all. How had Trippy put it? This particular installation would’ve taken root from the cumulative imprints of an untold number of Wayfarers who’d passed through here over the ages.

So… an untold number of Wayfarers had passed through this portion of the Bonespires. What came of them? Was the natural thing to wonder. Did they find what they were looking for, here upon the highest point in all of Naraka? Did they find a way to ascend even further and continue their journey?

Yet, as Serac scanned the entirety of the lamplit sphere, she found clues to suggest otherwise.

Skeletal remains—some onyx in color and others pale-gray like the Bone Lord’s dust—lay strewn about the whole place. Some were dismembered, others fully intact. Some were heaped atop each other in a mass grave, others lying still in solitary repose. What they all had in common, however, was that they were all dead.

A lamplit graveyard. A permanent and physical monument to all the souls that passed through then died before reaching their destination.

Even a hell bumpkin like Serac didn’t need to be told how rare and strange a sight this was. In a world where all souls turned to Dust upon death, this blatant defiance of the rules of the afterlife was a testament to the powerful magic that permeated the Bone Lord’s shroud—or perhaps to the strength and resilience of the souls that had perished at his doorsteps.

The sight of it was eerie and more than a little disturbing. It was also undeniably beautiful, cast as it was in the ghostly blue of the lamplight. Serac felt herself break out in goosebumps, even as she stood at the graveyard’s periphery, hesitant to take another step.

Beside her, the same lack of courage was apparent in Zacko’s demeanor. The earlier pallor had returned to his already sallow face, as he eyed the skeletons warily, as if expecting them to jump up at any moment.

Eventually, Serac was jolted out of her cowardly reveries. The source of this interruption wasn’t entirely unexpected, but the manner of it certainly was. For it was Trippy that had drawn her attention—with an audible tsk of annoyance.

“I suggest, Wayfarer, that you proceed and engage the Hubstation at the earliest opportunity,” he said, sounding polite enough. “We’ve already lost much time to your repeated loops upon the valley. However, this location should serve nicely as your next base of operations.”

“Right. Of course.”

Even as Serac moved to ‘obey’ her Special Guidance Protocol, she frowned at his unusually assertive mannerism. She was reminded, at least in passing, of the way Version 1 used to rush and berate her—before the two of them agreed upon a more civil and productive way to collaborate.

Serac sat down next to the giant lotus, with her eyes still darting about nervously. Even though she’d become old hat at meditation, on this occasion, it took her an extra second or two to get into the right mindset. Once she did, Pathsight informed her of the designation for this new ‘base of operations’—a rather cryptic and ominous one at that:

[Ossuary Entrance]

Entrance? Is there a building here?

Serac broke her concentration and peered around the lotus petals. This time, she noticed that the skeletons were especially numerous and densely packed on the far side of the Hubstation. There were so many of them, in fact, that they piled up to form a kind of standing structure. A—

“That’s a door,” Zacko observed, eyes pointed to the same object. “A skeleton door, if I’ve ever seen one. I wonder if it requires a skeleton key to open it.”

The Manusya said this last part in a jokey tone, but Serac didn’t quite see what was funny. Instead, she was entranced by the bizarre appearance of this Huskbound door, one that had been framed and decorated with the very bones that littered the graveyard. The only comparison she had was the ‘rib cage’ that used to be her cell in the Damnatorium… but this door certainly looked a lot sturdier and lot more forbidding.

Forbidding… but also inviting. As if it was calling out to a pair of ambitious Wayfarers. Here be your next destination—but only if you dare.

The surrounding graveyard served as a permanent and physical reminder of all the souls that had dared and failed. What did they lack that Serac must possess if she had any hope of going further? Only one way to find out…

Her anxious reveries were broken again, this time by a cheerful whoop from her Manusya companion.

“I did it, Serac!” Zacko announced, eyes shining with genuine delight. The man was usually so careful about maintaining his too-cool-for-school veneer that Serac hadn’t known he was even capable of such unfiltered joy. In any case, his joy was infectious.

“What? What did you do?” she asked, herself drawn into a wide smile.

“I got over the hump!”

Serac scanned her companion with Pathsight. Sure enough:

[Designation: ZACARIAS BORGES-JUVENTUS]

[Wayfarer Race: MANUSYA]

[Karmic Level: 17]

[Liminal Karma: 105 क]

“Oh my gods! You did it! You cleared your debt!”

The two of them jumped to their feet at the same time and met for another high five—even louder and crisper than the last. Then they joined hands and did a little dance, laughing and skipping around the Hubstation like a couple of drunk idiots.

Somewhere amidst the outsized merriment, Serac heard another distinct tsk, but she didn’t let that dampen her mood. KL-16 to 17 might have been small potatoes for most any Wayfarer, but for a certain NINEFOLD master and his prison-break accomplice, it was cause to celebrate, and celebrate they did.

In fact, they were so caught up in the moment that neither noticed when the skeleton nearest them twitched and shuddered to life.