Day 38
Phelian Starr
The arisen warrior looked down at his hand. It seemed a winner with two pairs, black 8’s and black aces. Strong before you even considered that a full house was a very real possibility. Yet, his attention was barely there. He hadn’t come to the card table with any true love for the game. Playing had simply been meant to give him a casual opportunity to talk with Malachi. Phelian was ready for the second floor. It was time to rise by his estimation.
Despite hours at the table, there hadn’t been many opportunities to bring up the subject. Conversation had been stringently light and idle. Phelian had seen many discussions die over the last few days because they brushed too close to serious. No doubt the prolonged break was related. Everyone avoided talking about what the cloaked ghost had said. He understood. The immensity of what was revealed was too much.
That wasn’t his concern today. Let the smarter people than him discuss it later. The Council would surely have a session on that once everything started rolling again. Phelian just wanted the Sixty to start exploring and fighting again. His personal skills just hadn’t been good enough to guide the conversation close enough to broach it. Time was running out. He appeared to be looking at the cards, but really it was on the cuckoo clock. Seven in the dungeon evening was steadily approaching. This would likely be the last hand before Malachi made an announcement about tomorrow. That’s when it happened every day before.
The fifth card was coming to each player now. Then the betting, then calling, and then with the round over, the announcement. Phelian decided to toss out subtlety, that had never been his forte anyways. He was aware of his reputation. Any ruffled feathers would be soothed by the same old thinking. “Naive Phelian” just being impetuous. Hopefully.
Malachi’s hand came down on the new card and Phelian blurted out, “Tomorrow shouldn’t be a break!” All eyes snapped to him as chattered when gravely silent. Not smooth at all. He cursed himself under his breath before continuing. “Shit, ok, look… I think it’s time to go out there again. I don’t know about you, but I’m getting a little antsy. There are sure a lot of floors left and that number isn’t going to change.”
“Sigh, yeah,” agreed Malachi, the free hand rising to rub his face. “A week or so is one thing, but we can’t be taking a summer vacation between every floor. I’d like to be out of The Pit before I’m gray again. Better not let it stretch out any further… five days is a good precedent to set.”
“Then tomorrow, we go up?”
“Let’s finish this hand and I’ll give the word,” nodded Malachi. “We’ll need to gather the Council after so we can hit the ground running tomorrow.”
Grinning Phelian nodded back, feeling at peace. It hadn’t been as smooth as he had hoped, but results were results. New adventures awaited tomorrow. He added the last card to his hand. The queen of hearts. Not a full house then. Though two pairs, queen high wasn’t too bad to play out either. Looking at his meager pile of pennies, the arisen warrior began to calculate how much to pay to come out on top without scaring away everyone.
A scan of the table didn’t really help him make any decisions. Everyone’s face and reactions were well guarded. No one had folded yet, so that was a good sign for his chances for a big pot. His eyes fell on Malachi last. Feeling an unnecessary nervousness about giving the leader of the Sixty any more attention. The table seemed to freeze at what Phelian saw.
That bemused smile of the sword acolyte’s was back in place. No matter if the hand was a bluff or a bomb, Malachi had maintained that same expression. An effective enough stonewall that the man’s pile wasn’t meager at all. He simply picked up the fifth card, gave it a single look before dropping the hand face down and pushing every penny to the middle.
“All in,” declared Malachi. His expression was unchanged during all that, but now his focus was distant. Thoughts elsewhere.
Soren expressed everyone’s reaction audibly, “Fuck.”
It was a small nonexistent comfort to Phelian that no one else knew what to do. It was an aggressive move that they had all seen Malachi use multiple times already in this session alone. As both a complete bluff and with a secreted dagger. That hand could be anything.
Sharing a look, the table united against Malachi. More than one person had a glean in their eye that said they had a chance. Maybe even undefeatable. The arisen warrior didn’t have any of their confidence, but that was no reason to pull out of the fun. Every player pushed their pennies into the middle, except Zachariah who was a cautious player. Only little ups and downs for him.
In a chorus, the table said, “Call!”
There was a moment of hesitation before Roderick flicked back his sunglasses and revealed his cards. Pair of queens and triple threes, a full house. Like that, Phelian was out of the race, but there was still the show to watch.
Malachi’s eyes flickering down to the cards was the only reaction from him.
The arisen warrior wasn’t in any rush to reveal his loss, so a new hesitation saw Porscha Harrell take the next turn. She threw down two pairs, jack high with disgust and disappointment. This set the rotation of turns spinning away from him.
Soren winked and dramatically spread out a colorful straight that started with a jack and went down.
Zachariah nodded sagely at the cards he had folded as attention swept past him to Malachi. Their leader dropped his eyes down the table reviewing revealed cards and raised an eyebrow at Phelain’s cards. The arisen warrior shrugged at Soren with a “what can you do” smirk. Nodding in reply, the sword acolyte flipped his hand in one gesture.
A bottom dollar straight flush. Two of hearts to Six of hearts.
“You’re kidding me!” groaned Soren. “Fuck, well I suck…”
“Don’t beat yourself up,” said Malachi trying to be comforting. “Poker paid for a lot of my travels. My luck has always been pretty strong.”
The gunman just shook his head in disgrace.
“That isn’t as reassuring as you think,” grimaced Porsha. “I used to do tournaments for fun. Thought my skills were pretty good before today. Luck couldn’t be all.”
“Alright…” started Malachi, but the clock went off. Seven tolls and wooden figures danced. “Well, another time then…. Duty calls.”
While the pot was collected, Roderick asked, “Wait, aren't you going to give us a chance to win our pennies back?”
“Not tonight, afterwards is Council business.”
Loot stashed, Phelain followed Malachi towards the clock. Behind, over the sound of shuffling, Roderick called out, “Hey! Who wants to play with a table of losers? We're a couple short and this evening might just be your lucky night!”
Ahead, people were already gathering in expectation of an announcement. Wondering, another free day? Most stood lazily. It made Phelain think that most were here to hear that going out with the monsters was still in the future.
Malachi took a step in front of the clock alone and smiled at everyone. “Good evening everyone. So it’s the informal time for the formal announcement. I hope everyone enjoyed the break, but as Phelain reminded me… there’s still a whole lot of floors above us. Tomorrow, we start venturing into the second floor. Like before, it’s entirely voluntary. Meet in front of the teleporter at nine and we’ll go up. One caveat. Preliminary scouting tells us that spacing isn’t like in the Ratsin Tunnels. We can’t move altogether, so it’s going to be parties that we move around in. Make sure you have a team ready to go if you decide to come up. No one is going out there alone or in a group thrown together. I know we haven’t had formalized parties, but let’s play it safe. Any new parties should use the day to practice in the simulator rooms.”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“Except for Council members, that’s everything. Enjoy the rest of the night.”
Molly St Clair
The Council meeting was a quick discussion on the next day that she surmised was mostly done in reaction to Malachi making a unilateral decision without them. In short, their leader felt guilty about using his authority. An amusing notation when one compared how reluctant the man had been about taking that position. Acting more like the king every day. Molly noted the healthy progress of his acceptance and it raised her mood that order was solidifying well in the Sixty. Chances of survival were rising by her calculations.
So busy jotting down notes for her personal reports, the acolyte of curses didn’t notice that the room had emptied. All but him. Waiting to the side, appearing to be calm though his face was flush. As soon as Molly’s eye landed on the man, he stepped forward.
“Hey, got a second?” asked the brawler carefully.
“...” She frowned.
“Come on, just a moment. All business.”
“I do not have anything to say to you directly, I have not already.”
A sickening grimace, but he opened his mouth again anyways. “Uh, right. Sorry, understood. Just wanted to offer your place in the party back. Since y’know, no one goes solo tomorrow.”
“I am aware and it won’t be an issue.”
“O, O’ yeah? What party are you joining?” he asked, disoriented.
An irritable sigh heralded Molly’s reply. “My own.”
“I see…” The heartbreak on his face only stiffened her expression.
“Glad you do. I believe that ends this conversation?”
She only gave him a beat to reply and was gone in another. Molly did her best to push aside the anger that had boiled free, like crude oil bubbling to the surface. Better to think of tomorrow. It was a refuge from her hurt, but it was also very important to be ready too. The first outing for her party.
Days ago, the Sisters had approached her for several reasons. One was a mutual talent for curses, a collective pooling of knowledge could benefit them all. Mostly, the three women were interested in formalizing a group and wanted Molly’s leadership. It went against her desire to fade into the background, but this was a first. This offer needed to be considered. She was surprised to find out how appealing the concept was. The idea that things could be organized her way was intoxicating.
What had cinched her acceptance was the dark truth of why fading had been so appealing. It had been an impulse to run away. To flee him for a place that was familiar and safe. There was a comfort to the shadows, but Molly wasn’t really interested in going backward she realized. Pain aside, safety aside, the acolyte of curses enjoyed being someone important. Being someone’s number two was no longer a satisfying goal.
Once the shock passed, and her thoughts ran their course, agreeing was a pleasure.
Whatever the Sister had expected when asking, Molly was sure they weren’t ready for her blitz of preparation. The memory of their reactions always bloomed a smirk. She sat them down and started lining out what needed to be done if the three of them were serious. It was pleasing that there wasn't any argument. Simply saying that they “may have a grudge against The Pit, but that didn’t mean that they intended to be reckless about it.”
A fine motivation she felt, or at least one that was usable. Gathering the rest of the team ended up being quick and efficient.
The key part of any party was a good healer. To Molly’s observation, there was one acolyte that fit the necessary qualities of her high standards. That was Norah Ward. She was someone who approached her newfound power in a dignified and clinical manner. The cool-eyed woman found this proper and made the woman very promising. She even saw the potential for a close mental kinship. Best of all, it only took a small effort of recruitment. The other woman was flattered to be asked.
Acquiring a healer was a good step, but it wasn’t enough for a full party to function. Word must have gotten around that the acolyte of curses was searching for party members. Some people apparently kept an ear out. Unlike him, Naomi Yatamoto chased the rumors and asked to join the group. Molly was a little hesitant at first since with Sisters and her there was already a lot of similarity in style. An argument for synergy from the eager candidate won the day in the end. She was a sucker for a well thought out reasoning.
The party was coming together so quickly that it was a little overwhelming. Sort of dizzying. The final member to bring them to seven was the archer, Adrienne Rowe. A little direct damage to round everything out. Their defense would be on the weaker side, but Molly was confident they could overcome the issue. After two days in the training, rooms brought everyone to a good place. Even with a little smoothing out left to do, all of them had come together well.
Malachi’s announcement brought with it excitement. This would be the first time she was ever this far out and in the open. Leading was so new to her. It had been surprising how little experience directing had helped. There were significant differences. Training forced new refinements and revelations. The transition had been thrilling. Molly couldn’t wait to take her party out.
A whole new world, she thought.
John Harken
He had spent a great deal of the break in quiet contemplation. Hours were spent either enjoying the causal opportunity for company or returning to his room to work over the puzzle again. Harken didn’t want to miss out on the companionship of the others, but the need to appraise the information from the ghostly figure was often insistent. It was uncertain if the Sixty’s reluctance to speak of that meeting made the experience better or worse. Somehow no one spoke a word about the revelations.
On the evening of the celebration, the priestly man understood why the subject was sidelined. There was a need to release the tension. He felt the same. The next day was expected too. For there were many heads that ached too much for even simple thoughts, much less the gravity of Xaiver’s words. Yet the unspoken discussion continued to be silent. Not aggressively, but with a hard certainty.
He wondered how long people wished to stew on the information. There was so much to untangle and Harken didn’t want to do it alone. It was a task for more than one man, not that he didn’t try. How could he not try? Their Purpose had been made clear. A new humanity. It was an awesome and perplexing thing. A notion that deserved to be discussed at great length. Yet the silence endured. The celebration acted as a dividing barrier and now none would speak of it. When the priestly man tried to broach the subject, there was silence, awkward smiles, and sometimes a departure.
The Purpose was a heavyweight, but no one was willing to carry the burden together.
Even the Council was no help in this either. Harken’s attempts had been discouraged in the same ways. At the evening’s meeting, he had tried to bring it up officially. That hadn’t gone any better. Malachi insisted distractedly that they were only going to discuss the second floor. The others were just as unwilling.
So, to his room, the priestly man went. To consider every word again. One day the Sixty would be accepting and therefore willing to discuss what Xavier said. Harken wanted to be ready for this moment. He didn’t turn the lights on. Contemplation in the dark was best for him. No light to distract or muddle the thoughts or images of the mind. Throwing an arm over his eyes to deepen the darkness and intimacy.
Once again Harken went over everything alone.
A warm greeting, he thought first. The image of a kindly and wizen old man. Meant to put us at ease and… I would say genuine happiness at seeing us. That moment played over and over in his mind’s eye. Searching for the lie, though he had longed discarded the notion. Xavier was honest in this, Harken had decided.
Then the bomb, almost absently given. Humanity gone and we, their replacement. Is it any wonder the Sixty balk? They’ll head up to the sky, but for this reason? I suppose there is no reason to blame them for avoiding that acknowledgment. How does one accept you are the beginning of something so huge?
He tried to imagine it. A line of time, a chain of people extending endlessly behind, but ahead it broke. Or close to as was possible while still lingering. A single person at the end of a whole species’ eternity. Devastating and then there was them. The sixty seeds for the future. A new start. A forged link to keep the chain going.
It was immense, Harken concluded, Perhaps too much for anyone, but was it possible to allow your people to come to an end if you could do something about it? Even if it cost a life? Would the amount matter?
I think not, thought the priestly man as he had many times. Perhaps not the divinity I had expected, but it is a very human thing to conceive of something like this. Who else would be so irrational as to take humans from another world to repopulate your own? What were the reasons that led to that conclusion? I would rise just to understand. For all our qualities, that man found us to have the right ones…
“Arrrgh!” vented Harken. “There is so much there to discuss… so much to dissect and analyze, yet no one will! I am alone to ponder the reason for his words. What madness!”
He sighed, still staring into the swirl of colors found behind one’s eyelids. Before sleep, there was plenty of time to go over the words again and Harken would. In many ways, it was all preparation for when finally the subject would be open to discussion.
“Perhaps fighting monsters tomorrow will loosen some tongues…”