Chapter 1 : A ghost, his sister, and a rock walk into a cave
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“Hello ?” a small, shrill voice, queried.
...
“Hello ? Are you up, mister core ?”
…
“Please, wake up ? I’m scared and there’s a lot to do”
There’s a lot to do. Those words reach an instinctive part of her. She had heard and hated those words so much that she couldn’t ignore them. It needled her consciousness. She tried to ask a question. No words came out.
“Ah ! Hi ! You’re awake. I’m Tiremiod, and I’m honored to work with a core as powerful and beautiful as you !”
She felt sluggish. She tried to identify the speaker. Blatant flattery ? It had to be a sentient being with a relatively human-like thought process. Also, it was speaking. Why was she so scattered ? Her eyes didn’t seem to be working any more than her voice. So she extended her soul to sense her surroundings, and observed the small ethereal entity floating next to a small rock.
It looked like a stereotypical ghost. A cute one at that. Small, transparent with a blue hue, little more than a blob of air with big watery eyes. A boy ? Another similar entity was present a bit further in the cave, in a depression in the wall. Hiding, perhaps ?
Before she could investigate her new companions further, it spoke again.
“Huh, what next. Oh ! I’m not sure how to ask this. Can you make a goblin ? Make. Goblin. Goblin please ? Will you make a Goblin if you please ? Oh, thou great Core, might you deign to create-”
“SHUT UP !” She snarled uncharacteristically. The small being immediately snapped its mouth shut and started trembling in fear, obviously not used to hearing shouting.
Annoyed by its words and her own inability to communicate, she had established a telepathic link between them. It had been easy, the creature’s mind was shamefully vulnerable. Did it think she was a primitive sapient, to address her like that ?
Alright, chill. It was an innocent little thing. Not its fault she felt so… beside herself.
And, well, in its defense, it was speaking to a rock. No, wait, a dungeon core.
…
Holy shit, she had done it ! She let out a silent but ecstatic laugh as the realization set in, her intellectual faculties coming back to her along with her memories. It was rumored to be impossible to escape a containment field such as the one they had cast around her on the fields of Samsara, even Liche lords were cut off from their soul anchor, to say nothing of a mere necromancer like her.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
However, she had theorized that the containment field did not trap the soul, and the incapacity of making contact with an external soul anchor merely stemmed from the binding Necromancer’s own power. But if the anchor were to be externally powered…
A smile stretched her inexistent face as she stared at the dungeon core that was slowly gathering mana by itself. It had taken her a few weeks to modify the spell pattern so as to allow her to turn it into her soul anchor, but it had been worth it. Without that, she would never have been able to survive the Guild turning on her.
At that she mentally shook herself and switched her line of thought to avoid dwelling on grimmer musings. As… what was his name ? Tir-something ? Tim- ? Tim would do.
As Tim had said, there was a lot to do, and if she interpreted the presence of the spirits right, she had more options for her resurrection than a regular necromancer. She was incorporeal still, but it seemed she had an unusual opportunity for manifesting into the physical world. Another route than that of going full Liche and giving up her cherished ability to work with untainted mana. Thankfully, she had a convenient source of information not too far !
Slowly, quietly, trying to convey all of her patience and sympathy, she addressed the shivering bubble next to her.
“So, Tim, who are you, who am I, what’s there to do, and why do you want a goblin ?”
She couldn’t help but phantom-smile in anticipation.
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Tim was scared.
Scratch that, Tim was terrified. Panicked. Drowning in fear. Petrified.
How to answer those questions ? What was the protocol for that ? Why hadn’t Mother told them about it ? He did remember her telling him that cores had their own thoughts sometimes, and that’s why he had taken to complimenting it, but she had apparently omitted the part where they actually talked to you. And she had certainly not mentioned that presence.
Well, she had also told him his Core would be awake when he was called to it, which had not been the case. He had waited for two weeks with growing anxiety, and when it had finally emerged from its slumber, he had believed everything would be going to be back on track.
He had been wrong. It had been bad enough when he had been suddenly yelled at. Right now, though, hearing that soft and dangerous voice which was ostensibly eager for answers…
Brrr, he did not want to disappoint it. It took him less than an instant to decide that Tim would be his new name so as not to anger it. Also, perhaps he should call it a more distinguished name ? Its highness. No, to weird for a stone. Its Coreship ? Or perhaps-
“I have a feeling you’re not really thinking about your answer...” the voice cut in his thoughts with a twinge of annoyance, startling him once again.
He jumped. He wasn’t sure how he had done it, seeing that he was still a spirit, but he reached at least a meter above ground. And then he fell back down.
Floated back down. So. Very. Slowly.
His aether got crimson from embarrassment.
“Hi hi hi !” he heard an amused chuckle in his mind.
Is it laughing ? Really ?
Perhaps he still had a chance at survival, then.
Tim, dungeon clown. His aether got an even darker red.