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1-13 — Whip It

Kivi’s head appeared through the trapdoor. “You’ve increased your domain.”

Frowning, Callan pulled up his stat screen. Sure enough, his range was now listed at four yards. Apparently it was a one-to-one ratio with his Piety. Good to know.

Dismissing the screen, he glanced up at the lud girl. “Hey, Kivi, good to see you too. Have a nice day at the office?”

A tinge of pink colored her cheeks. “Apologies, honored avatar, I meant no offense. It simply surprised me when I sensed my orisons while standing in the kitchen—”

Now it was Kivi’s turn to frown, a rather humorous sight when viewed upside down. “Interesting. Two orisons. What does this one do, exactly?”

“We can go over that when Tervak and the others get here later. Honestly, I’m rather curious about that, myself.”

“In that case, I shall prepare dinner. Are spirebeans acceptable?” Kivi disappeared before Callan could reply. As he sat down again, his stomach let out an unhappy gurgle.

“Yayyyyyyy, more spirebeans. Definitely better than starving to death, but still...”

You sound as if you are unhappy, mortal. Let us be glad there is food available at all. Best savor what you have.

“Oh, you really telling me you enjoy those things, Xeph?”

I simply turn off my connection to your tastebuds when you eat them.

Callan sighed. “Figures.”

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When the other three priests trudged in, all brought with them an assortment of large rocks, most tucked into baskets on their backs. Tervak began spreading them upon the floor as the others settled themselves.

“Honored Avatar, tonight will you show us how we can best use the gifts of Xeph-Zul-Karatl to vanquish our enemies?”

“Yeah, and they best be some pretty good tricks,” Shamain added. “If all we can do is shift about a few pebbles, we might as well surrender to the cult now and save everybody some time!”

“I admit the first orison is a little lackluster,” Callan said, which elicited an indignant squawk from Xeph. “However, I’ve added another to our arsenal that I think will prove more adequate. Tervak, is there any way for us to go outside and practice without attracting the attention of the cult?”

The elder lud blinked at that. “It should be possible. The cult mostly guards against villagers leaving to the north past the pythian tree, as there is little besides cliffs and barren waste in any other direction.”

“Tomorrow should be a moonless night as well,” Aldis said, surprising Callan. He hadn’t heard the older man utter more than two words before this. “Perfect for slipping through the streets unnoticed.”

“Then it is decided. We shall gather two hours after sundown at the south end of the village.” Tervak shook his head. “It seems our long nights are just beginning.”

“Oh, quit your complaining, you old goat. You don’t see me worrying about getting my beauty rest, do you?” Shamain slapped the elder’s shoulder good naturedly.

Callan, who was already feeling guilty enough about napping while the poor lud had to work for the cult, cleared his throat and steered the conversation in another direction. “Right. New orison tomorrow. For now, let’s see if I can show you a few tricks with Shape Stone. It takes a little practice, but if you shape it around a target’s foot...”

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They made their way through the dark streets, Callan’s hand tightly gripping Kivi’s own. It seemed elder Aldis hadn’t been kidding about the benefits of a moonless night—the village was utterly pitch black. Not so much as a single light glowed in any of the windows they passed, the residents likely hording what little lamp oil or firewood they had left. If not for Kivi’s grip, Callan likely would have run into a wall at least three times already.

It was a strange experience. Even on the few occasions when Callan had been camping with his parents, he couldn’t remember it ever being this dark before. There’d always been the glow of a distant city or something on the horizon to provide some light.

But here? Nothing. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the lud village was a ghost town.

“The meeting spot is just ahead,” Kivi whispered over her shoulder. Callan nodded and glanced back. No sign of any patrols by the cult. Seemed they were safe for the moment.

Then, ahead of them a shape loomed out of the dark. Kivi let out a small squeak, and Callan spun about, already summoning Mountainform to his aid.

Alert: 9% Apotheosis used.

Total Apotheosis is at 9%

A soft cackle filled the night air. “Oh dear. If I’d known that would be the reaction to interrupting your little tryst, I might not have bothered.”

“Shamain.” Kivi bowed to the shadowy figure while Callan let his Mountainform dissipate. “Any sign of the others?”

“Oh yes, I already sent Tervak and Aldis on ahead, can’t stand to listen to those two nattering on. You would think having the entire village captured and enslaved would keep a pair of old men from—what in the name of the Butcher are you doing?”

Callan, who had begun glancing around nervously the louder Shamain’s voice rose, snapped his head back towards her. “Oh, nothing el... Ah, nothing. Shall we get going?”

“Hmmph. Close one there, boy.” Shamain turned and stalked off into the dark, lost from sight almost instantly. Kivi’s hand snaked back into Callan’s own.

“Come, Avatar, we still must travel some ways out of the village to ensure we won’t be discovered.”

“Hurry up, you two!” Shamain’s voice rang through the dark street. “And don’t think I don’t see you holding hands! This is a training mission, not a courting.”

Immediately, Kivi released Callan. It was too dark to see, but he imagined she was probably blushing. Reaching out, he grabbed her hand again.

“Don’t let her get to you, it’s what she wants.” He paused, then added, “Also, I literally can’t see my own two feet right now.”

“Very well, Avatar.” There was a grin in the sound of Kivi’s voice, though that might have just been Callan’s imagination. Together they continued on through the dark.

The walk once they left the village took only a few minutes. Soon Callan began to notice a blue glow in the distance. He and Kivi moved towards it, and a moment later found themselves standing on a rocky shelf. Jars were placed about at the edges, each one teeming with a small collection of blue lights that flitted about inside.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“I hope these conditions will prove adequate, honored Avatar,” Tervak said, sliding out of the darkness. “These wispflies might not be a perfect solution, but I thought them better than risking the light of a torch.”

Callan glanced around as Shamain and Aldis also emerged. There was enough light to see across the entire shelf, and a little beyond. Past the rock, the land fell away into a vast canyon, similar enough to the one Xeph’s temple occupied that he would have suspected it was the same if he didn’t know for a fact it lay at least several hours walk to the west of them.

Stepping to the center, he turned back to his four priests. “This will do. I hope, anyway. Really only one way to know for certain.”

Holding his good arm out, he activated Wurmchain.

Alert: 4.5% Apotheosis used.

Total Apotheosis is at 12.5%

The air around his hand warped and twisted, and a heavy weight settled into his palm. Callan found himself holding a jagged-looking whip, black as the night around them. The grip in his hand felt like soft leather, but the rest of it was anything but.

Moving closer to one of the jars, Callan laid down the whip as the lud gathered around him to see it for themselves. The whip, if it could be called that, was made of a series of interlocked plates, each one fastened together through some method he couldn’t discern, but allowed them to twist independently of each other, giving the effect of a singular undulating whip.

Callan ran a finger along one of the black edges, then winced and pulled his finger back, finding a thin line of blood now running down it. The material was razor sharp.

At the very tip of the weapon was a white barb with a slight hook to it. While he didn’t even bother trying to touch that, Callan could tell it was sharp. Its edges practically glistened in the light of the little blue bugs.

“So these are the scales of a mungandir,” Tervak said, his voice awed. “I had always thought the stories about them nothing more than fanciful imaginings.”

“What exactly is a mungandir?” Callan asked. He’d meant the question for Tervak, and so was mildly surprised when Xeph answered instead.

They are giant worms that burrow beneath the earth, feeding on the energy of pythian tree roots. Occasionally they surface to lay eggs, which causes widespread destruction of any settlements that happen to be built at a pythian’s base. Mungandir are vicious, nasty creatures, and extremely difficult to kill.

“Oh joy. You just decompress that particular little factoid?”

It seems the knowledge was tied to your orison. I recalled the particulars once you selected it.

“How about next time you let me know when something comes back to you? Who knows, might be relevant information to someone with no bloody idea about anything.” Callan noticed the lud watching him with worried expressions and waved their concern away.

You can hardly expect me to consider every mundane fact that returns to me.

“To you they’re mundane, but to me—” Callan stopped himself before launching into a tirade. “We’re wasting valuable time. Is there anything you can tell me about this weapon?”

Ah, yes. Because it is made from mungandir scales, Wurmchain is uniquely suited to cutting through both stone and metal. Not that you are likely to encounter either with these enemy priests, as any armor they possess will be of a more divine variety.

After Callan had relayed this information to the others, they moved apart from each other and summoned their own weapons. Callan attempted a few cracking motions like he’d seen in old Indiana Jones movies, but the chain proved too thick to move like that. It was more similar to a whip-sword, like the kind you saw in martial arts films and anime.

Eventually, he got the hang of a few swings to the point that he wasn’t too worried about cutting himself. Unfortunately, that was about the extent of his abilities.

Though he was interested to note that the white tip at the end appeared particularly suited to embedding itself in stone. While he scored the shelf he stood on several times with the black scales, the first time he really hit it directly with the Wurmchain, the tip sank a good foot or so and stuck fast.

“Son of a—” He gave several great tugs, but the chain wouldn’t budge. “I can’t get it out!”

Hmm. It does appear to be rather embedded. You may have to dismiss it and summon the chain again.

Callan eyed the mischievous weapon angrily, then willed it away. It disappeared with a puff of sulphureous air.

“That could be a serious liability if it got stuck somewhere during a fight,” he noted, summoning a second version of the chain.

Alert: 4.5% Apotheosis used.

Total Apotheosis is at 12.0%

To be fair, if you had more Brawn, pulling out the chain would be less of a problem, Xeph noted.

“Yeah, well I don’t exactly see that situation changing any time soon.” In the dim light, a flicker caught Callan’s attention. He squinted at the hole the chain had left behind, but couldn’t make out anything but darkness. Turning, he went and fetched a jar of flies. The lud paused as their light diminished and turned to watch him.

Ignoring the stares, Callan marched back to the hole and held the jar close. He peered inside, eyes squinted.

The Wurmchain had left a small tunnel in its wake. Callan could just barely make out a hole at the far end.

And under that, only darkness.

Slowly, he began backing up. “Hey, uh, Tervak?”

“Yes, honored Avatar?”

“Is it just me, or is there literally nothing beneath this shelf but air?”

Tervak blinked at him. In the blue light of the jar, his skin had a hollow appearance to it. “A small portion of this area extends out over the canyon, but it’s hardly a need for concern. This shelf has weathered seasons and moonrises better than most of this area. I assure you, it’s steady.”

“Yeah, forgive me if I’m not entirely confident about that, considering I just drilled a fist-sized hole through it. Xeph?”

A moment, mortal. Xeph lapsed into silence, then grunted. It is not an overlarge piece of the whole that is exposed. Most of the stone lies buried in the cliff. Though I do detect several anomalies, some of the surrounding strata is—

“Don’t need the details. Is it likely to collapse under our weight?”

Not without assistance.

Callan paused. An idea was building in the back of his head. Before it could fully form though, Tervak gave a polite cough.

“Apologies for interrupting, Avatar, but it appears that myself and the others have reached our limit for using the god’s chain weapon this evening.”

Glancing around, Callan noticed that no one but himself was holding their Wurmchain any longer. “How long have we been at this?”

No more than fifteen minutes. That would make sense, new priests are even less adapted to wielding a god’s power. We should not expect them to be able to use either orison more than once a day for some time. Certainly not before the battle against Zavastu’s followers commences.

“Okay, I guess that’s it for tonight, everyone. Be sure to practice Shape Stone, if you haven’t already.” Stepping away from the others, Callan gave his Wurmchain another experimental flick. It still didn’t move fast enough for his liking, but he couldn’t deny that it cut through just about everything it touched.

Not that there was much to touch out here. Swinging at empty air or the ground wasn’t exactly the best form of training.

“What we really need are targets.” A thought occurred to Callan, and he chuckled lightly to himself. “Never thought I’d be missing those training golems back at the temple. I bet we’d have these weapons figured out in a day or two.”

Perhaps, but there is no sense wishing for what you do not have.

“Isn’t that the truth.” Callan paused his swings at the sound of approaching footsteps. Kivi appeared from behind him and stood watching, a jar held in her hand.

“Before we return, would you like to release the wispflies with me? We cannot keep them bottled for long, or they will tire themselves to death trying to escape.”

“Uh, sure, Kivi.” Together they walked to the edge of the cliff. While Kivi held the bottle, Callan carefully unscrewed the top. No sooner had he done so than dozens of flickering blue lights darted from inside and took off into the night sky. In moments, they were only faint pinpricks in the distance.

“It is a beautiful night,” the girl whispered. Glancing at her, Callan could just see her eyes raised heavenward. He followed her gaze to where a pantheon of stars glittered overhead.

It occurred to him, one of those could very well be his own. Were his parents looking up at him at that moment too? Was Lyle?

Knowing his parents, Callan’s face was probably plastered on the side of a milk carton by now, or at the very least hanging on the wall in a few post offices.

Shaking his head, he returned his attention to Kivi. She was still staring upward, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.

“Thank you for coming to our village,” she said at last, still not looking at him. “I don’t know exactly what you were running from, but I’m glad it led you here.”

“Don’t worry about it. I mean, it’s not that I don’t appreciate the thought, but you should probably save the thanks for after we’ve saved the rest of the village. If we manage to.”

Kivi shook her head. “We’ll do it. The only question now is a matter of when, not if. We’ll save everyone here, and then... and then...”

She trailed off. Callan looked at her questioningly but was unsure what he should say.

“Hey, hurry up, you two!” Shamain’s voice cut through the dark. “There’ll be plenty of time for canoodling later. Right now, I want to get home to my warm bed!”

The lud girl jumped up, dropping the jar. It disappeared silently over the edge. “Coming, Shamain.” She scampered off, and a moment later was lost to the night.

Then, just as quickly she returned and snatched up Callan’s hand. “Come, Avatar. Let’s return home.”

That’s a relief, Xeph grumbled as they made their way back to the village. I half-expected you to tumble off the cliff if left alone. Has human eyesight always been this lacking?

Callan ignored the jab. “Oh, I’m sure you would have just gifted me with an orison for a pair of wings really quick. I wasn’t worried.”

You forget who you’re talking to, human. Xeph’s chuckles rumbled through Callan’s skull. I am a god of stones and mountains. If you drop a stone from a cliffside, it does only one thing—and that isn’t fly.