“And one final signature... there,” Sevvir finished, tapping a line on the paper. She sat cross-legged next to Callan, watching him closely while he completed the forms. Her intensity over the whole situation was freaking him out.
And yes, he’d said forms. Plural. Because apparently, having only one copy of the single-sentence contract wasn’t enough. Oh no, he’d had to complete the damn thing in triplicate.
He was seriously starting to question the sanity of the entire situation.
“There, that good enough?” The ink was hardly dry on the paper before Sevvir pulled the document back. She scrutinized it a moment, tongue poking out the corner of her mouth in concentration. Her eyes flicked to the two other copies laying at their feet, then back again. The expression was oddly cute.
“Hmmph. My mother would never forgive me if she knew I’d laid out such a flimsy contract. But I suppose it will have to do. Desperate times do call for hasty actions.”
“Not sure I’d call our situation that desperate,” Callan noted. He climbed to his feet. “Like I said, I bet I can tunnel us a way out of here, given enough time. Should I do that now, so we have a way to retreat if we need to?”
The girl nodded as she climbed to her own feet. “If you wish. I was actually returning to my camp for supplies when you decided to drop in unannounced. First, however, we need to settle the matter of payment.”
“Really, ‘dropped in’? Isn’t that kind of low hanging fruit—” He paused. “Wait, what do you mean, payment?”
“Well, a mjolk certainly can’t work for free.” The girl gave him a wide smile, showing all of her teeth. All of her very sharp, very pointed teeth. Between those and the claws, he was beginning to see why Xeph had been so nervous earlier.
Speaking of his head-mate, the god chose that moment to finally speak up. Hmm. Fascinating. It seems that particular tradition remains unchanged. If anything, it has probably been greatly reinforced by this obsession with contracts. Or perhaps the contracts were a natural offshoot... an area worthy of study, to be certain...
“Xeph, English please?”
We aren’t speaking English, mortal, and haven’t been for some time. Nor are we speaking Urslang common, not truly, but rather a melding of languages as can only exist between two beings as intrinsically joined as—
Callan pressed a hand to his head. “Buddy, it’s been a long day, and I’ve already dealt with one near-killer headache. I don’t think I can take another so soon.”
Yes, yes. Concerning the mjolk girl, I was merely referencing how, ever since shortly after their creation, the mjolk have always had a very... transactional disposition. I do not know the cause, though several of my siblings speculated it was a side-effect of being granted a bloodlust ill-suited to their diminutive and supple forms.
“What does any of that even mean?” Callan held off asking about the ‘supple form’ comment, at least until he was no longer within Sevvir’s range of hearing—which, given what he’d learned about her so far, would probably be a while.
It means, human, that you just entered a contract—however short-term—with a mjolk, and now you are obligated to pay for their services. Or else.
Glancing over, Callan swallowed the ‘or else what?’ comment he’d been about to make.
Sevvir stood watching him, and there was a... dangerous glint in her eyes. One even more intense than her expression while he was signing the contracts. He suddenly got the impression that making a snide comment would go very, very badly for him.
“Payment, please.” She held out a hand.
“I, ah, I’m not exactly flush with cash at the moment.” Callan made a show of patting down his pockets, which didn’t contain much other than his last remaining stick of gum, along with a few loose pebbles and—
Oh.
He frowned at Sevvir, who suddenly seemed quite interested in a small patch of ceiling above them. Her eyes darted to look at him, then returned to their study.
“You know, I was unconscious for a while,” Callan said. “Long enough for someone to search through my pockets and see what I had.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, god boy.” Sevvir’s smile turned all toothy again.
“Look, if you really wanted it that bad, you could have just taken—”
“A mjolk does not steal.” The girl set hands on her hips. “That would be unseemly, and cast shame upon both herself and her clan. If, however, a certain yeth boy were to make a contract without considering the payment terms... well, that’s hardly my fault, now is it?”
Shaking his head and smiling ruefully, Callan dug into his pocket and extracted the necklace, the same one he’d been meaning to give to Kivi but kept missing the opportunity. Well, it seemed he’d have to find another gift for her later.
Sevvir snatched the necklace from his hands the moment it appeared, cradling it close. She was making a low rumbling in her throat, almost like... purring? Very similar to purring.
No, it was definitely purring.
“Thank you, Callan. This will do nicely for payment.” With a quick flick of her wrist, the girl unsnapped the clasp and secured the jewelry around her neck. The spinel at the piece’s center glittered in the firelight as it came to rest in the hollow of her throat.
Callan, however, barely paid any attention. That elusive memory that had slipped from him earlier came back in full force, and he finally realized why Sevvir had seemed so familiar this entire time, even though they'd never met before.
The ears. The tail. The purring. Heck, even the teeth and claws. It was all so obvious now.
"Cat girl!" he said, pointing at her. He was so elated to have finally figured it out that it only occurred to him afterward that shouting like that might not be the best idea. Sevvir frowned at him, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
“What?”
“Cat... girl?” Callan swallowed. “I just realized, you look exactly like the cat girls from that anime my friend Lyle was so obsessed with. Well, not exactly, since you’re real and they were just two-dimensional drawings, but still, most of the details are the same, the only thing you’re missing is the feather duster and maid uniform, but—”
He realized he was babbling and snapped his mouth shut. Sevvir’s expression had grown even more dangerous. “Tell me, Callan. What, exactly, is a ‘cat’, and why should I not be offended that you called me so while pointing in such a rude manner?”
“Umm... Xeph? Little help?”
Oh, you dug your own pit, mortal, you can find your way out.
“Dangit, you’re supposed to be my ally here,” Callan grumbled. Noticing that Sevvir’s mood wasn’t exactly improving, he quickly held up his hands.
“It’s not an insult or anything, if that’s what you’re wondering. Cats are pets, nice pets. People love cats. They catch mice, and curl up in your lap, and...” Seeing Sevvir’s eyebrows narrow further, he swallowed. “Xeph, throw me a friggin bone already. Do they seriously not have cats here?”
On this continent? There were a few in my time, but they were mostly limited to the wealthier northern territories. On Gyviar they were quite popular, while on Toloh and Cainox they were banned outright. I cannot say for Linoli, but if I had to speculate—
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“Speculate later,” Callan said, cutting him off. Sevvir had taken a menacing step forward. She raised a clawed hand.
“Are you saying that you see me as a pet?” she asked, voice cold. Callan swallowed.
“Not—that’s—Ah...”
Before he could formulate a response, Sevvir’s face quivered. It quirked into a grin, returned to being stern, then slipped again. She started laughing, clutching at her sides as she did.
Callan gaped.
“I—sorry.” The mjolk wiped a tear from her eye, let out a final laugh, then straightened. “But I couldn’t resist. The look on your face...”
She started laughing again. All Callan could do was watch, speechless. Had he... had she really...?
“I know what a cat is, Callan.” Wiping at her face some more, Sevvir gave him a softer, more reassuring grin. “And you aren’t the first to make the comparison between the creatures and a mjolk. Though most would not be so bold as to do it to our face. Still. Cat girl. Hmm. Not entirely sure what I think of the term, but I don’t dislike it...”
The question is, how do YOU know about ‘cat girls’? Have some mjolk managed to make it to your own world? You did not mention this detail before.
“No, they’re...” Realizing he didn’t any satisfactory answer to give his head-mate, he shook his head. “Never mind. We’ve wasted enough time on this as it is. How about focusing on getting out, instead?”
“That is acceptable with me.” Sevvir said. “I believe you said something about clearing the rubble, before?”
“Yeah.” Callan brightened. “Yeah! That is totally something we can do. Though it might take a bit, depending exactly how deep the collapse goes. My powers are still, ah, developing.”
The corners of Sevvir’s mouth quivered a moment before settling again. “Is that so?”
She turned and moved toward the small fire, still burning on the floor without fuel or smoke. Callan smirked after her. Just wait. Bet she was going to be so surprised by what he could do she’d be asking to renegotiate that contract before they even made it to—
Bending down, Sevvir reached towards the fire, and then casually scooped it up in her hand, like it was nothing. Callan froze in place, watching.
Straightening, Sevvir glanced back at him, smirking. She casually tossed the flames from one hand to the next and back again. “Well, shall we? I’d rather not spend any longer down here than I must.”
“Uh, right. Sure.” Callan followed after as she made for the back wall of the room. In his head, Xeph let out a chuckle, though it had a nervous edge to it.
I warned you, mortal. Mjolk are never to be underestimated.
----------------------------------------
She’s not a priest, Xeph said, before Callan even had a chance to open his mouth. Frowning, he glanced over his shoulder at Sevvir, who was holding the crackling flames above her head for light. They bathed the cave-in around them in flickering orange hues.
“And how would you know that?” he asked, turning back to the rocks. He pretended to make a point of studying them. “Maybe I should summon Wurmchain and check.”
Fine. It is unlikely that she is a priest, Xeph amended. Mjolk have never been particularly inclined to offer faith to the gods, let alone serve in our priesthoods. Simply one of the many reasons their creation was considered a failure.
“I’ll be sure to tell her you said that.”
“Tell me what?” Sevvir asked. Callan waved a hand dismissively as his head-mate squawked.
“So what else is it?” he continued. Behind him, the mjolk girl let out an irritated huff.
Do you remember when you asked about other uses for transcendental conduits?
“I mean, yeah, that was literally just a couple hours ago.” Callan frowned. “Then this is some sort of natural ability?”
In essence. Millenia ago, they were called Willcasters, those who could draw upon their own Conviction to imbue their very will upon the world. It is a difficult skill to learn, but for those willing to spend the years and mental focus to achieve it, they are granted abilities almost—ALMOST—as powerful as those I offer you.
“So you’re saying I could learn to do that.”
Xeph let out a noise somewhere halfway between a snort and a cough. Did you not hear a word I just said, human? Yes, you might gain additional skills, but only after years of dedicated practice. And then they would simply be abilities weaker than what I might grant you for gathering a little bit of faith. It would be a waste of effort, to say the least.
“But I could learn it.”
The god let out a sigh. It is an academic possibility, but not one that I’ve heard of an avatar ever putting into practice.
“Yeah, but a lot could have changed in the last thousand years.” Callan grinned. “And if not, I can always be the first.”
But why would you waste the time when I can—
Behind him, Sevvir cleared her throat. “While I’m sure whatever you and your god are discussing is of great importance, Callan, could you possibly try to talk and work at the same time? Holding this flame for long periods of time isn’t exactly easy. Or fun.”
“Oh, sorry.” Callan activated his Shape Stone ability and focused on the cave-in.
Alert: 5% Apotheosis used.
Total Apotheosis is at 5%
“So... you’re a willcaster?” he said conversationally as the stone began to peel itself away to either side. Boulders shifted about as the pile was consumed.
“Hmm. Haven’t heard someone refer to it that formally since I finished my apprenticeship.”
“Why, what do you call it?”
“Just casting, usually. Or evoking, since that’s technically what I’m doing. I lack the skill for empowerment, and the patience for alteration. None of the other schools ever really appealed to me.”
“Uh huh,” Callan said, only understanding about a fourth of that. It sounded vaguely similar to some of the magic schools in D&D, but spellcasting had always been more Lyle’s wheelhouse than his. He’d mostly only been there for the sake of driving their DM, an older guy named Carl, absolutely nuts with crazy shenanigans.
Hmm, Xeph muttered. They’ve advanced the art enough to establish formal schools. Fascinating the rapid changes that can occur in only a few thousand years.
“Gee, buddy, you think?” Callan rolled his eyes.
He went to push through the next layer of stone and found that he couldn’t. Frowning, Callan waved his hands, sinking the directional orb deeper. When that didn’t work, he called it forward, until he was just manipulating the surface of the boulders in front of him.
Nothing happened.
“What the friggin hell?” he muttered. Pulling back a stone-encrusted fist, he slammed it into the rock. Bits and pieces broke off in a way reminiscent of regular ol’ rock, but when he tried to activate Shape Stone again, nothing happened.
Hmm, Xeph’s presence was suddenly in the forefront of his mind. Fascinating. Ironstone. This explains so much.
“It does?” Callan asked, taking a step back. He activated his powers once more, running over the surrounding rock. While he could manipulate most of the closer ones, as soon as he got further in, his powers ceased working again.
Yes. I had been wondering how a metal god such as Veritas could have carved tunnels similar to my own temple’s. There must be a particularly large concentration of ironstone beneath this plateau. So large that it is considered more metal than stone.
Callan had moved on to trying to manipulate the floor at their feet. Nothing. He tried the walls. Still nothing.
The roof above their heads was a different matter. Maybe if he built a staircase, they could climb upward, but he wasn’t certain there was enough non-ironstone around to do that.
Yes, everything around us is too metal-rich for my gifts to manipulate. It seems we will not be escaping this way after all.
“Great. Absolutely great.” With a sigh, Callan explained the situation to Sevvir. The mjolk looked thoughtful, but not particularly concerned.
“Perhaps we’ll find another exit further on. Or at worst, we come back here and move the remaining stone by hand. For now, we should continue our way deeper in.”
“Didn’t you say I wouldn’t make it through the next room?” Callan asked. “What exactly is waiting for us that way?”
“I said you wouldn’t make it through without me.” Sevvir shot him a wide grin as she walked toward the tunnel opening, her flaming hand held aloft to better light the way. “Aren’t you glad you signed that contract now?”
“Hmm. That remains to be seen.”
The mjolk continued smiling at him all the way to the other side of the tunnel. Then they emerged into another chamber, and Callan found his attention pulled elsewhere.
Because this room was absolutely ginormous.
They stepped out onto a small ledge, which jutted out over a pit so deep even Sevvir’s light couldn’t penetrate its bottom. The ceiling wasn’t far above their heads, though it was still out of easy reach. Squinting, Callan could just make out another ledge in the distance.
In between them and the distant exit were... platforms.
“What’s even holding those up?” he asked, studying the nearest one. It appeared to be a sheet of copper or some other similarly colored material, hovering in the air a few feet away. Close enough that Callan could probably jump to it if he wanted. A second one hovered next to it, and even more stretched on ahead towards the opposite ledge, always in pairs.
A bridge, but one broken into pieces. And all of it defying the laws of physics.
“Is this another dveorgan creation?”
No... I don’t think so, Xeph said. It’s not like any dveorgan artifact I’ve witnessed. Nor like anything we saw while visiting their city.
Callan agreed. Besides, something felt off about the metal platforms. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but staring at one too long started to give him the heebie-jeebies.
He turned to Sevvir, but the mjolk simple shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I was only paid to explore this place, not understand it.”
“Please tell me we don’t need to do what I think we need to do,” Callan said. He felt his stomach drop into the pit below. Hopefully that sensation wasn’t prophetic.
“Afraid so. There’s a reason I was sitting back there when you decided to tumble down for a visit. I’ve been trying to come up with an alternative, but there’s only one way across that I can see.
“We jump.”