Chapter Ninety-seven

The sun was down, and evening was turning into night by the time the naval engineers finished rigging the Raagh’s Impending Doom to sink. From what I could see, they had weakened certain parts of the ship by sawing and crushing important looking beams and structures, then set fire to those particular places and vacated the galley in a hurry. Sailors quickly severed the ropes and hooks connecting the Furious Fist as well as the Righteous Wrath to the ork vessel, unfurled some of the sails, and we pulled away from the doomed galley.

I could see pretty well in the dark — my vision didn’t depend on light only — and the elves basically had built in biological night-vision capabilities. The sailors and marines didn’t seem very interested in the sinking galley, but almost all the rangers aboard were on the quarterdeck, watching. Krissy, on the other hand, wasn’t able to see much, even though the night sky was mostly clear with a bright moon and a few million stars shining down on us, and she was too tired to properly listen to my running commentary on the fate of the ork ship.

I didn’t know what kind of fuel they had used to set those fires, but the flames were small and dim, and there was very little smoke. Whatever it was, the intent was clear: to not draw attention, be it day or night. Less than ten minutes later, when we were at least fifty metres away, the galley started letting out some loud, ungodly cracking sounds, and soon fell apart into three pieces. Then it sank. Some of the rangers hazarded half-hearted cheers, but by-and-large the Raagh’s Uncontested Might went down rather unceremoniously.

We waited a little for Master Fenirig Arte to pop up and fulfil his promise of questioning us about my ability to drag people to Hell, but much to Krissy’s relief and to my disappointment, it didn’t happen. I had prepared a whole speech about the nature of Hell as it was conceived in this world compared to the way major Earth religions saw it, and why my ability to put people into storage could be considered Hell and not Hell at the same time. But since the illustrious leader of Third Rangers had more important things to do than to discuss matters of the spirit, Krissy decided to call it a day and went down to the sleeping quarters, made sure Kiwa was tucked in nice and tight, then went to sleep.

***

‘I think you need to talk to her. When she wakes up,’ Tilry said to me, pointing at my sleeping host.

‘About what?’ I asked, kind of surprised by the spirit’s sudden suggestion.

‘Oh, is it about Mana?’ Hank chimed in.

‘Why da shit am I still bein’ in boring-hell? Pointy-eared fugger said I’d …’ Raagstrom Raagh began complaining again.

‘Just stop being a gank and be quiet, will you?’ I shut him down, then turned to Hank. ‘Mana? What about it? You know something I don’t?’

‘Oh, come on, bro! Even Tilry noticed,’ he said, sounding somewhat exasperated.

‘Yeah? What’s this about? And why didn’t you say anything before?’ I demanded.

He sent a mental shrug my way.

‘You should ask her if she is in pain, or at least discomfort,’ Tilry explained, not letting Hank speak. ‘There’s a lot of residual Mana in her body and soul. She used too much of it during the fight. Especially that jump she made from one ship to the other.’

‘Ok. Is it … bad?’ I asked, not because they hadn’t got the point across — of course it was bad, they wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise — but because I had no idea what to say to such an unexpected development.

‘Well, it’s not good. She’s human,’ Tilry said, as if that explained everything.

‘So?’ I prompted her to continue.

‘As in, she’s not an elf,’ she clarified her statement in a way befitting a three-year-old toddler.

‘Yeah, I noticed. Why does it matter and what does it have to do with Mana?’

‘Oh, sorry. So, uh, she’s got better at drawing and controlling Mana, which isn’t always easy, so that’s good. But humans have weaker bodies, their souls are slightly different, and I think she used a lot more of it than a human should. I can sense residual Mana in her soul and body when she’s close.’

‘Okay, why is it bad?’

‘Well, Mana usually dissipates and the Essence in the air absorbs it. The body and the soul occupy the same space, so the Mana she draws is both in her body and her soul. If it’s inside the soul, it can’t dissipate easily. If she takes more than she uses, some of it will be stuck, and it will affect both body and soul, and not necessarily in a good way.’

I directed all my tentacles at Krissy, sleeping peacefully in her hammock next to the snoring Kiwa, and of course a few female rangers they shared a space with, and I focused all my senses on her. Knowing now what to look for, I too got a sense of some Mana lingering inside her. I couldn’t believe I had not noticed this before; I had been handling Mana ever since I had become a spirit some three years ago, and to think that I overlooked something like this was annoying. On the other hand, it wasn’t like I had a “Being a familiar for Dummies” handbook, so, instead of being harsh on myself, I decided finding a solution was a more productive endeavour.

‘What do I do?’ I asked.

‘Well, nothing really. It’s bad, but not that bad yet. It’s residual Mana, so it’s sort of half-used. It will find its way out of her soul in a few days. But until then she shouldn’t use any more of it,’ Tilry suggested.

I was relieved to hear it wasn’t too bad, but at the same time I was worried about the “few days”. How many days exactly? In two days, we’d arrive in Orkland, and Krissy being a spiritualist, she’d have to rely on Mana if we got into fights. Which we inevitably would.

‘What would happen if she used more Mana?’ I asked.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

‘It would build up in her. She’d be in pain, and eventually either her soul or her body would start cracking, and then falling apart,’ Tilry answered. ‘My first host was human, and she had to train herself not to draw more Mana than she would use.’

‘This is bad. How is she supposed to fight without Mana?’ I shared my concern.

‘Oh, if only she had a Tentacle Horror for a familiar that could kill anyone who looks at her funny in a fifteen-meter radius,’ Hank shared his opinion, sounding like an actor on a stage.

‘Eighteen metres, if I stretch a bit,’ I corrected him, grinning on the inside.

Hank was right. As much as Krissy hated feeling like she had to be protected, she could literally walk up to a group of fifty orks and my Mana Armour skill would protect her for the few minutes it would take to kill every single one of the enemy. Plus, I had my experimental soul-shields as well, an extra layer of protection for her soul and myself. We should be good for a few days. Tilry shuddered visibly, but she had no argument to offer.

***

Krissy woke up early in the morning, just as her ranger roommates did. She yelped as she fell out of her hammock and groaned as she got up from the floor, which was loud enough to wake Kitala Iwani, and to cause the mostly sober rangers to smile knowingly. The two women managed to groggily find their ways to a communal wash-basin to wipe their faces clean. Krissy’s reason for her fumbling and frequent curses was the discomfort caused by leftover Mana, while Kiwa was simply having a hangover. By all accounts the elf hadn’t had more than two or three small cups of Milkysip — an amount that would have been a simple warm-up round for a human, apparently — but she looked like as if she had spent the whole of last night doing a pub-crawl.

Up on the quarterdeck where the rangers’ breakfasts were served — as opposed to the crew, who had a designated dining area or cabin somewhere underdeck — the two founding members of the Bureau just kept poking at their food instead of eating it. As far as I was concerned, the double toasted bread looked alright, and if I wasn’t mistaken, it was served with jerky and pickled vegetables.

‘Come on, don’t skip on breakfast!’ I encouraged the two of them.

‘I … think I’m about to throw up,’ Kitala Iwani mumbled, trying to keep her mouth closed while speaking, taking short, shallow breaths through her nose.

‘I’m … I’m not feeling too good,’ Krissy joined in, looking and sounding as sick as her self-appointed bodyguard.

‘Well, yeah, about that,’ I said, trying to find a good way to start the explanation.

‘Just tell her straight, bro!’ Hank encouraged me with all the glee he could muster.

‘Tell me what straight?’ Krissy sighed, putting her plate down next to the box she was sitting on, then proceeding to massage her legs.

‘So, it’s about the slight discomfort you might be feeling in your body,’ I began, slowly and carefully. Alarming her was the last thing I wanted to do.

‘Slight? Discomfort?’ she scoffed. ‘I feel like my bones are trying to escape my body.’

‘Are you in pain?’ I inquired.

‘No, not pain, but it’s not a slight discomfort, it’s a considerable discomfort,’ she growled.

‘Okay,’ I said, taking a deep, mental breath. ‘The reason for it is Mana.’

‘Mana? How so?’

And I explained to her what I’d discovered last night. She was not amused.

***

Krissy put her empty plate down, her face displaying a mix of emotions, none of them good. For a moment I thought having a full belly would alleviate some of her anger, but I was wrong.

So, you’re telling me that I won’t be able to use your power because it could potentially kill me? Krissy’s thoughts thundered through the voice chat, her tone cold as ice and hot as hellfire all at once.

‘Uhm … yes,’ I said. ‘For a few days at least.’

And you didn’t know this until now, even though you’re my familiar? Aren’t you supposed to know all about your power? She demanded, shaking her head in furious disbelief.

‘I … didn’t,’ I admitted.

Hank? She turned her attention to the idiot-horror.

‘I … uh … have noticed,’ he confessed.

Oh, so much for “having my best interests at heart” then. Didn’t you think for a second it might have been in my best interest to know this so I wouldn’t kill myself?

‘Tilry knew about it,’ Hank made a transparent attempt to deflect responsibility.

The familiar snapped her head towards us, looking like she was about to retort, but Krissy wasn’t done.

I don’t care. She isn’t my familiar and this has nothing to do with her. She screamed at us.

‘Damn right,’ Kiwa muttered while struggling to swallow some food.

And I told them as soon as I noticed. The spirit chimed in.

Krissy sighed loudly.

I can’t believe you don’t have enough sense of responsibility between the two of you to warn me about something like this. She carried on with the tongue-lashing which we fully deserved, unfortunately. Some fucking familiars you are! To think I volunteered to go first on that damn galley for your sakes like a fool.

‘Listen, I …’ I tried to say something, anything, to quell her anger. It was futile.

No! You listen! Both of you. I don’t care about your constant, stupid quarrelling over food or about your tentacles. You can be the most idiotic brothers in the world if that’s what you two want to be, but if either of you ever keep something like this … no, scrap that! If you ever keep anything at all from me again, that will be the day we part ways. Have I made myself clear?’

‘Yes, ma’am!’ Hank and I yelled as one. Had I still been in possession of a human body, I would have snapped to attention like a private in front of a general, and I sensed a distinct wave of a similar sentiment emanating from Hank.

‘Good,’ Krissy snarled the word out loud, then switched back to voice-chat. Now, I don’t want to hear a single word from either of you until we reach the Mainlands. Instead, think about whether you want to take being my familiars seriously or not.

‘Yes, ma’am,’ we chorused again.

Krissy stood up, gave her empty plate to Kiwa, and walked to the port-side guardrails, put her elbows on it and proceeded to watch the morning sun rise while mumbling to herself about how lamentable it was to have such poor-quality familiars.

Both Hank and I knew she had meant every word, and we knew if either of us had said anything now, it would mean the end of our careers as her familiars. So, we kept quiet.

***

It was only after night had arrived and Krissy had finally fallen asleep in her hammock, that Hank and I went onto the KHIM channel to talk.

‘Brother, we’re in serious trouble, aren’t we?’ Hank asked, his usual snark and condescension absent from his voice.

‘We have upset her. Badly,’ I said, and I couldn’t find the energy or willpower to put my usual animosity towards him on display either.

‘Wasn’t she overreacting?’

‘Maybe she’d have taken it better if it hadn’t been right after a battle. She’s in a shaky mental state as it is.’

‘What if she tells us to get lost?’

‘Then we’d have to get lost.’

‘Would we, really?’ Hank asked, his tone serious. ‘She wouldn’t be able to actually get rid of us. We’d have to do it voluntarily.’

‘That’s correct,’ I agreed. ‘And if she asked us to go, we would. Wouldn’t we?’

‘I don’t want to leave her. I like her, and not just because I inherited the sentiment from your soul when I ate some of it.’

‘Really?’ I asked, rather surprised by the statement. ‘If it was in her best interest that we leave her, would you?’

‘Yeah,’ he said, but I didn’t like the few moments of hesitation before he said it.

‘If you say so,’ I said, wondering if I should believe him. ‘But I don’t think she’ll go that far.’

‘Oh, ok. Now, about the use of our tentacles …’ He changed gear completely, surprising the hell out of me for the second time.

‘Yeah? Why don’t we talk about you embezzling EXP instead?’ I countered. And then we both fell silent, doing the equivalent of staring at each other for long moments. After those moments passed, I sighed mentally and said, ‘Alright, how about we revisit all this when we’re done in Orkland and we’re on our way to this famous Fentys Alliance?’

‘And when she is calmer and in a better mood. Good idea,’ Hank added.