Gradually, the attendees dispersed from this deep place in the ground. Most walked up to the coffin with bowed heads to pay their respects and then returned up the ravine to the windswept surface. But Alana just patted Wivanya’s neck and hopped onto the back of her dragon companion. She spared one last glance for the exhausted-looking Randidly and then allowed the Frost Dragon Brood Mother to crawl up the stone walls and escape the chilly crypt.

A part of her wanted to say something to him. But at the moment, Alana Donal did not trust her mouth. Her frustration would drive her to say something that she would regret.

Wivanya’s claws easily found purchase in the stone. “Should we not give our condolences to the Ghosthound?”

“Didn’t you look at him? Today is a day that Randidly Ghosthound is being drowned in condolences from all sides.” Alana grunted. “Perhaps others would appreciate the sentiments… but not him. His experience with his grief will always be personal; it is better to give him space to process this than offer unasked for comfort.”

Even though I wish there was something I could say… Alana pulled back her lips to reveal her teeth. Her grip on Wivanya’s leather harness tightened. The dozens of spars she shared with Helen existed with perfect clarity in her mind. So much of her spear usage had been shaped by Randidly’s spear attendant. Alana had been completely blindsided by her death. But in the end, today is not a day about me…

They burst out of the ground and onto the dusty surface of the badlands and scared away a group of Level 47 Lizardmen. Almost a dozen had been trooping across the flat ground, but the sudden appearance of the Frost Dragon Broodmother sent them into a panic. To these common monsters of the desert, either of Alana and Wivanya possessed enough power to annihilate them, let alone both.

Wivanya growled and unleashed a blast of frost at their fleeing backs, but she purposefully aimed to the side; her beam hit a stone outcropping and blasted outward with freezing winds and frost. Several of the lizard people were knocked to the ground and dropped some of their luggage, but they scrambled up and continued to flee. They held no weapons, only clutched their worn cloaks around their bodies as they ran.

“Why let them go?” Wivanya swung her massive head around to look at Alana. Her rumbling voice was curious, rather than disappointed; Wivanya no longer was the bloodthirsty monster that Alana had originally encountered.

Alana sighed. For whatever reason, her mind kept drifting to the past today. “The process lost traction with the brutality of the Calamity, but the System Pantheon made it known that there are certain… processes that can be activated to transform pure monster races into normal species in the eyes of the Nexus. Considering their intelligence, the lizard people were one of the targets… but now…”

Wivanya rumbled in understanding. Considering the constant desperate struggle to hold the defensive lines over the past month, few would look fondly at the prospect of recognizing another monster race. More and more people subscribed to the credo Whole and Human, even as ogres formed the bulk of Zone 1 and Zone 32’s Northern defensive line.

Even if the current state of these lizard people, refugees carrying their belongings in burlap sacks through the desert, probably meant that they were being similarly swarmed by the endless waves of monsters. Even if this species would be another ally in this seemingly endless struggle against the Calamity.

When Hank Howard rode his horse Ancho up to the crouching dragon, Alana had spread out all of the items from one of the dropped backpacks and was sorting through the cargo. She found several spare pieces of leather armor, a few threadbare blankets, a messy hand-drawn map of the badlands, a few shiny coins of Expira’s universal currency, several freshly harvested wolf pelts, and a humanoid snakeskin doll. Its eyes were made from small chunks of copper.

“What the hell is that?” Hank asked as he swung down off of his horse and jerked his chin at the doll. “Thing’s ugly as hell, darlin’. Don’t think even a gag gift like that will cheer the Ghosthound up, right now.”

Alana snorted. “You know I hate it when you call me that. And…well, you are right. It’s ugly. To me.”

Helen toyed with the strange doll. She tested the flexibility of the limbs and rubbed her thumb over the smooth snakeskin. The slippery material was cool. Its copper eyes were narrow and dark. A thin tail hung limply down from its waist. But it was very clearly a doll. Alana raised her head and looked after the fleeing lizard people with glowing eyes. Then she shook herself and walked back to the edge of the hidden canyon and peered down into the shadowy depths. Even from this distance, she could make out Randidly’s figure talking to Helen’s mother.

Alana had the sudden urge to go down there and say something again, but she suppressed it. Meanwhile, Hank moved up to the edge to join her. Sensing her mood, he kept some distance between them. “You alright?”

“Nah,” Alana shook her head. Then she slapped her cheeks. “But that’s life. Helen was one of the strongest fighters I knew… and now she’s dead. He’s not saying it out loud… but you can just barely tell, that beyond this Calamity, there are even more powerful and dangerous foes waiting for us. And right now… it feels like I cannot help him at all. If they came for Expira, if Randidly cannot handle them-”

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“Our fight would mean something,” Hank grunted. But his expression, too, turned moody as he continued staring down into the crack in the ground.

Alana smirked, finding Hank’s assertion funny. “Can you feel his energy? The way his image and his depth spread out to fill the entirety of the cavern while he was speaking about Helen? Even now, I can barely make out the edge of him. I want to flare my valkyrie and feel his power, just so I know how far I am from being able to make a difference. Yet that’s a selfish thought; today isn’t the time for that.

“And if I’m being honest…” Alana licked her lips. “I’m a bit jealous of all this. Of his obvious care for Helen. I’ve chased after Randidly for so long. Did you know, he established these special connections with four of us from Donnyton, only a few weeks after the System arrived. I was the first to receive that bond. Feeling him like this… I’ve been left behind.”

“That’s a pretty self-centered view to take at someone else’s funeral,” Hank clicked his tongue. “You aren’t usually this immature.”

Alana couldn’t help but smile. “I guess grief makes me selfish.”

Hank cracked his neck and then crossed his arms. “So, back to Zone 11 to deal with that big rift? We can spend some time murdering Calamity spawn to remind ourselves that you are damn strong. The Ghosthound only promised to lend a hand to Expira for another hour. His roots won’t keep the monsters at bay forever.”

“No,” Alana raised her gaze and looked in the direction of the departed lizard people. “No. Now’s the time… to go and do something meaningful.”

Hank snorted. “Playin’ hooky? You know I’m down. And Ancho abhors work.”

Ancho whinnied and agreement, earning a small but genuine laugh from Alana.

*****

“Were you close to my daughter?”

Randidly felt his heart tighten as he saw Charlotte Wick abruptly twist around, completely unprepared for the prim and self-contained Islinda to march up to her and ask her question. Especially that question. Charlotte’s furry brown face contracted and relaxed several times, as emotions warred through her body.

Basically, all of the attendees had gone through the process of approaching Helen’s coffin to pay their respects. So the cool cavern was almost completely deserted, aside from the three of them and Heiffal’s troops. As the sun sank toward the horizon, the stone became grey and blue, like the choppy water of the deep sea.

When Randidly had invited the Elite recruits to the funeral, he had sensed that Charlotte Wick took Helen’s death harder than even Raymund and DiOrtho. However, at the time he was too distracted by his own grief to really remark upon that fact. Randidly now looked deeply at Recruit Wick. Does she feel guilty because her grandfather was responsible…? But the emotions that I sense from her…

The grief around Charlotte was murky and complicated, like a ball of tangled cords. Even the Stillborn Phoenix had rarely been able to release such condensed emotions. Randidly really couldn’t understand from where this emotional potency emerged.

“Ah…” Charlotte blinked several times in the face of Islinda’s patient stare. Then she lowered her gaze and looked at the ground dark stone ground. “...no, not really. I just… she was the Overseer who trained us, so…”

“Huh,” Islinda said mildly. She tilted her head to the side.

Charlotte flushed. Her fists clenched and Randidly thought for a bewildering moment that she was going to lash out at Helen’s mother. But instead, Charlotte tapped her interspatial ring and removed a piece of paper. “I… I know it isn’t much, but… I really appreciated the lessons taught to me by your daughter. She was a brilliant instructor. I have a little talent in drawing and happened to do this in my spare time… so…”

Islinda grasped the offered object by the corners, using only her forefinger and thumb. Then she held up the paper and squinted at the elegant lines of charcoal on the page. Randidly raised his right hand and used his Conviction of the Celestial Cataclysm to generate a bit of white light in the shadowy cavern. His expression swiftly became solemn; Helen, wrought at her most violent and reckless, dominated the page with her presence. She held her spear aloft in a half-crouch, her face twisted into a snarl as she stared down a foe that was standing outside the scope of the drawing.

Randidly’s skin prickled to look at this drawing. Rather than imagined, this truly had happened. He had been the one that Helen glared at. This moment had been plucked perfectly from one of the spars he did with Helen in front of the Elite Squad. The artist’s attempt to capture Helen’s image wasn’t quite perfect, but the lines around her eyes and the tightness of Helen’s hand on her spear were so well done Randidly’s heart twinged in sympathy.

Randidly chewed on the inside of his cheek as he looked at Charlotte. This also explains why I found those drawings in Helen’s things...

Islinda looked up at Charlotte for a few more seconds before looking back down at the drawing once more. She kept her lips pursed, bottling up the complex emotions that played across her features.

Then she clicked her tongue. “Don’t lie to me, girl. If you have truly drawn this, then you didn’t happen to do so in your spare time. You probably have quite a few more of these…?”

Charlotte Wick opened her mouth and just released a choking sound. Her cheeks were so flushed that her complexion darkened even through the screen of her short fur. She slowly shook her head, but the denial did not fool anyone. Randidly frowned over at the recruit who had inherited a portion of his image.

“Well, that’s fine. Do you have some time? Come with me for a bit after this nonsense is done.” Islinda said to her. Then Helen’s mother turned to Randidly. “And you. I’m almost ready to go home. But before that… I’d like to see my daughter’s body.”