[Book II Chapter 114] HOPE: Training with a Master
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“Wouldn’t a sniper rifle be better for this?” Hope complained.
Clay Donnastar simply chuckled. “This type of bullet is meant for emergencies, and, when response speed is of the essence, a revolver is king.”
But I don’t want to miss. It’d be humiliating. Hope gazed at the green peak on the floating rock two miles away. She was confident in her aim, but this was far. Also, she was certain the airship they were on was subtly moving. Not to mention the breeze.
“It’s fairly big target.” Clay smirked. “Just rely on your foresight.”
Easier said than done. Hope took a deep breath, lifted her weapon, and concentrated. It’d take her bullet several seconds to hit its target, and peering that deep into the future was challenging. A bead of sweat rolled down her brow. Finally, she sensed the angle was right and pulled the trigger.
Only then did she realized what she’d done. Oh my god, I hope this—— Reality bent around her, and she fell on a tuff of grass. It took her a moment to take her bearings and face the correct direction. From the front of his distant airship, Clay waved back. It worked… I teleported!
Since hearing of it, she’d been determined to learn this magic. It required a multilayered, compressed enchantment, which only exceptional materials such as mythril could contain. Given the difficulty, Clay had fashioned a special catalyst ring to assist her with the toughest parts. Despite this aid, she’d only successfully enchanted her first bullet today, and it’d taken her three hours. Clay promises me I’ll get faster with experience, but by how much?
The ground trembled. Frowning, Hope looked over the edge, and her eyes opened wide. A gargantuan creature had just reached out and latched on to the cliff below with a multitude of front legs. Gripping the rock with sharp claws, it dragged over the rest of its long, armored body and climbed upwards. The rumbling as it made its way towards her was somewhat unsettling, as was the gaping fanged maw ready to swallow her whole. Huh, how do I deal with something like this…
Three bangs rang out simultaneously. The monster flinched and exploded into four pieces. Clay parked his airship and invited her on board. “That was a centisaur.” He explained. “I’m surprised, they don’t usually get that big.”
Hope hopped on deck in a soured mood. “Would you say it’s unlucky for one to target me like that?”
“It is bizarre.” Clay rubbed his chin. “Those who live to be that size learn to be cautious about attacking humans. Despite this it showed not hesitation going after you.”
“Maybe I look tasty.” Hope jested bitterly.
She entered the cabin and headed downstairs to cheer herself up. Clay’s airship served as his mobile workshop, complete with all the tools and materials an enchanter could ever want. There was even a smelting chamber far more elaborate than the one she’d used in Corthia. However, her favorite place was the armory, where, under an exotic collection of firearms, there were drawers full of every enchanted bullet imaginable. It was a library where she could study endlessly.
“For having successfully tested your first teleportation bullet, you don’t appear very happy.” Clay observed as she installed herself at the table he’d set up for her.
“Sorry…” Hope winced. “It’s complicated.” I was just reminded I’m a magnet for disasters. “By the way, you said we’ll be spending the night at a nearby town?”
“Yes, it’s called Tristian.” Clay answered. “It’s very welcoming. You’ll love it.”
“Can we not?” Hope pleaded. “I’ve had my fill of sightseeing. I’d rather focus on training quietly.”
Clay shook his head. “Although I keep in contact with Adventurer’s Guild, that’s mainly for big picture developments. I need to frequent taverns to have a better sense what’s really going on locally. You know why.”
Hope nodded, sighing. Besides teaching her, Clay was investigating the werewolf threat in the Twisted Lands. With all the more serious problems, it was easy to forget the plagued the Laughing Man had unleashed below the Isle of Dreams. Those that remained had gathered northeast of Aery, and dozens of small settlements had been overrun.
Ross Exor, The Incorruptible Flame believed that Torak’s disciples were helping coordinate the attacks. According to him, Kongal’s influence wasn’t precise enough to explain their behavior. He believed they had human handlers.
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Tristian could end up in flames because of me, and the worst part is no one would know it’s my fault. Although she hadn’t told anyone about her ability, her troubled conscious wouldn’t allow that much longer. This time it was a threat Clay could easily dispatch, but next time it might not be. It’s dangerous keeping him in the dark.
“The truth is, I have a sublime vagary.” Hope admitted. “And it’s a pretty lousy one.”
Clay held up a hand. “Are you sure——”
“Yes,” She answered firmly. “I need to complain to someone.” Hope proceeded to explain her ‘Cursed Fate’ while he listen silently.
“Isn’t it the stupidest thing ever?” She finished. “Now you see why I wanted to skip Tristian.”
“It’s not as bad as you think.” Clay declared pensively. “Sublime Vagaries that manipulate destiny are usually powerful.”
This wasn’t the reaction she’d anticipated. “Don’t coddle me!” She exclaimed bitterly. “My passive is literally ‘attracts misfortune and life-threatening danger’. Who would ever want such a thing?”
Clay smiled gently. “Would you believe it if I said I might?”
“Absolutely not.” Hope replied instantly.
Clay walked over to a cabinet and poured himself a drink. “Two weeks ago, I traveled to a small village tucked away in a valley, a beautiful little place with friendly people. I’d stopped by there many times over the centuries to enjoy this sweet wine…”
Clay paused, taking a sip. “This time it was burnt to the ground, and the smoking ruins of were still warm. Hours earlier, werewolves had massacred everyone.”
“You know what I thought as I walked those ash-covered streets? ‘If only I’d been there’. It’s a regret I’m deeply familiar with. Nothing is more frustrating, especially for an immortal, than the tragedies which occur when you aren’t around.”
Clay sat next to her and put down his glass. “have you been experiencing bad luck in your everyday life?”
Taken aback at the question, Hope reflected. “I don’t think I have…”
Clay nodded. “Your ability takes existing disasters and ‘attracts’ them to you. In some cases, it might delay them until you’re around. In others it might accelerate them before you leave. It might even redirect them from somewhere else. Consider the implications carefully.”
He stared at her hard. “What do you think the odds are that a catastrophe strikes Tristian before this evening.”
“Close to zero.” Hope answered. So I’m a lightning rod of misfortune that makes my surroundings safer…
“Arriving to a recently destroyed village is something that will never happen to you.” Clay send solemnly.
Hope slowly absorbed this perspective. By drawing that centisaur to me, I prevented someone else from being its victim. If I think of it this way, it’s slightly more palatable. However…
“Understand what your point is, but that doesn’t change the fact that it will eventually thrust me into a situation I can’t handle and get me killed.” She stated.
“For that, you have Cursed Fate’s activation.” Clay responded.
“That’s the problem.” Hope countered. “Although it worked out when I was fleeing with Astrolis, will there always be something as convenient as Artemis available to save me? It seems too unreliable…”
“Do you perhaps believe the good fortune your ability produces is equal to the hardships it causes?” Clay chuckled, shaking his head. “It doesn’t work that way. Sublime vagaries are designed to favor their wielder, and, when there is a negative, the positive aspects are amplified. I wouldn’t be surprised if Cursed Fate returns ten times the energy it spends bringing you ill fortune. With that kind of power, it should be effective anywhere.”
Clay grinned. “You might believe your ability’s name refers to you, but I’m not so sure. Take Leon, the pilot of Nihilister. He was manipulated into threatening your life and then vaporized unceremoniously. The centisaur earlier met the same pitiful end. Your enemies are lured to you and executed. Isn’t that a truly Cursed Fate?”
Hope found herself slowly won over by her instructor’s assessment but still resisted doggedly. Rosy outlooks had betrayed her too often. “No matter how strong Cursed Fate really is, it relies on my surroundings. One day there will be no friendly immortal nearby, no external convenience to draw upon. Isn’t that the day I die?”
“With preparation, you can ensure Cursed Fate is effective anywhere.” Clay drew out the necklace on which hung his most prized bullets and pulled one off. He slid it over to her. “You used the last one I gave you. Here is a replacement.”
Her addrenaline rising, Hope clutched the treasure. The enchantments packed within appeared more ferocious than her last ‘magic bullet’. “What does it do?” She mumbled.
“When selecting guardian beasts, towns employ something called a wild summon.” Clay explained. “It’s a magical formation which extends an invitation across the Ether to all friendly entities. This takes advantage of the trade off applicable to most magic: giving up control to increase power.”
“Is that what this bullet is?” She asked.
“Not quite.” Clay contradicted. “It’s an unrestricted wild summon. There are no safeguards to ensure the parties which respond are friendly. Because of this, its summoning power is boosted to the maximum. The result is usually a monster aggressive towards everyone.”
“Do you understand why I’m giving this to you?” He added.
“If I fire it after activating Cursed Fate, I can create a powerful ally anywhere.” She answered, looking up at Clay. “Why do you have this dangerous type of ammunition?”
Clay shrugged. “There are times, depending on how events unfold, where anyone can be favored by fate. You have experienced it fighting in the Blood Arena. It pays to have a roll-the-dice gamble for scenarios where the odds are on your side.”
Hope studied the black mythril in awe. If I can create my own fate, then maybe it is my enemies who are cursed. Allowing herself a grateful smile, she carefully tucked the bullet into one of her pouches.
“There are many other tips I can offer on how to best exploit your sublime vagary, but before that…” Clay leaned forward. “How do you feel about being bait?”
A sinking feeling washed away her budding optimism. I should’ve known, Hope though.