2nd day of January 0 A.E.
At the top of my Tower, I sit at the glass table, staring out over the disaster that is the park. Mushrooms. Charred trees. The spider’s corpse. Chaotic masses of people are still treating the injured. I have been on the Terrace all day, tending to the sick awoken. I tempered nineteen of them, all Pilgrims that had little chance of recovery on their own. It appeared to work, though none became a hoary or heliotrope tempered, it was all vermillion or sable. I must keep a close watch on them; as far as I am aware, I can only temper them once. As for the remaining twenty-three, they were recovering on their own.
Never in all my days did I think I would be so relieved to not have a mouth. The questions concerning what would happen to their friends and family were nigh impossible for me to answer. We cannot tell them. Their emotional state under the influence of the spores is unpredictable.
Looking away from the window, I tap against the glass table. ‘No one plans to enter the Tower until the seventh, and there is much that needs to be done. The worst to come is tomorrow.’
I stand and pace around the edge of the Mistress’s Chamber. At the center of the chamber, the Tower’s sprout shivers. Haze spews from the sprout. An amethyst crystal exits a root, and the spewing haze takes the shape of Sir Mouser around it.
Spotting me, Sir Mouser runs over and climbs into my arms. ‘Cosmic System, pray thee, the Tenebrous Sneak wall.’
The wall appears.
You Have Shown Enough Ability to Rank a Novice Skill to the Intermediate Rank
At the Intermediate rank, you have the opportunity to build upon the foundation of the original skill you selected. You will receive both an auto-assigned skill extension based on your aptitude as well as a second selectable extension.
Auto-Assigned Aptitude Skill Extension
[Eventide Diffusion]
Blending into the eventide is as natural to this Entity as eating. Both at night and in dark areas, the Entity can diffuse particles around their arms and weapons, concealing their movements. Entities with low Perceptions will find it challenging to see the Entity’s attacks while also avoiding the particles hovering around their weapon. This skill is capable of functioning in lit areas, but the concealing effects will be greatly diminished until the Entity can thicken the ‘diffusion.’
Please Select An Additional Skill Extension Below
[Urban Shadow Basic Compendium]
The nuances of hiding in the shadows of the urban sprawl are revealed to the Entity. It comes with a variety of basic non-magical methods that the Entity can master over time and call upon at any time. Once this invaluable Compendium is called upon, it will suggest a form of hiding, depending on the Entity’s immediate needs. This extension requires no mana.
[Tendrils Overhead]
The material making up the Entity’s cattail will be redirected to the Entity’s hands and feet, where tiny tendrils will sprout. This will enable the Entity to grip rough, porous, or permeable surfaces. During this time, the Entity will lose usability of their cattail and must be mindful of their overall weight. Tendrils are still ‘Independent.’
[Umbra to Thee]
This skill extension is useful for mid-range assassins with time to wait. If the Entity is at one end of a shadow and the target at the other, the Entity can employ the shadow like a guide for their bolts, arrows, ammunition, etc. However, the ‘guide’ is as wide as the shadow, so wait near an object that casts a narrow shadow before taking aim.
I pull Sir Mouser close while looking over the wall. ‘Eventide Diffusion.’ I am a novice at swordplay, so using it to its full potential is difficult for me. It’s a skill that shall grow with me. Still, it sounds as if it might add a haze effect to my attacks as well, which is quite helpful.’
My eyes drift over the three extensions:
‘Urban Shadow Basic Compendium ...I shan’t lie, I did not expect such a skill. This could mean other people are being offered these compendiums. In that case, it opens up opportunities for specialists on these topics to emerge from the blue. Aye, a lifelong compendium on a topic could prove to be a mighty tool in the hand of the right person. Yet, my needs are more urgent, and a compendium that’s only useful in ‘urban sprawl’ is concerning. Who knows how much of that there will be tomorrow.
Tendrils Overhead. This one seems as if it would be immediately helpful. There’s no suggestion of learning or fulfilling requirements; there are only limitations. Weight is not an issue outside my arc suit, and it should work well on wooden surfaces. I shall be able to climb trees and such with ease. That’s a valuable means of hiding and escape. The “tendrils are independent” sentence is worrying, though.
Umbra to Thee. It’s a powerful skill for the right person, but that person is not me. I am not proficient with guns or bows, nor am I an assassin.’
Thinking for a moment, I decide to adopt the Tendrils Overhead skill extension.
Congratulations!
You have earned the “Eventide Diffusion” skill extension for “Intermediate Tenebrous Sneak.”
You have earned the “Tendrils Overhead” skill extension for “Intermediate Tenebrous Sneak.”
Prepare for memory upload.
Images flow into my mind’s eye. In these images, I am standing across from my own self. Overhead the moon is clouded, and our surroundings are silent. The cattail unfurls from around her torso. My duplicate holds her finger in front of herself, and a heliotrope copepod crawls up it. The duplicate’s cattail turns and faces its owner.
Her own cattail attacks her, eating her own arm and the copepod. Her arm regrows, and she then draws a sword at her waist. The cattail retches, blowing a scattered blackish-purple mist across her sword. She raises her sword veiled in the mist.
The image fades and reappears.
Once again, my duplicate stands across from me, but there is a single tree next to us this time. My duplicate’s cattail turns oily; it fades into her skin. Raising her foot and flipping her hands, she shows me the tendrils that wiggle on her palms and the bottom of her toes. She presses her feet against the tree and climbs the tree with little effort.
The images fade.
‘The palm and toe tendrils, I must confess, I do not like them.’ Sir Mouser paws at my hand. I mimic him with my finger. ‘I may need to hide them from Terra...’
I stop near the window and stare out over the camp. A gathering of people walks down a path bearing several Pale Lanterns. On a brick railing, Shriek and Mollie sit next to Lincoln and Pierce outside. Mollie moves closer to Lincoln with a smile.
‘They were in Fairy’s Pantry the whole time. They were lucky.’ Shaking my head, I re-take my seat at the glass table, placing Sir Mouser in my lap. I ask the Cosmic System for something else, ‘Prithee, my glister squire skill wall.’
You Have Shown Enough Ability to Rank An Interim Skill to the Novice Rank
Please Select One Below
[Evanesce Glister Squire]
Conditions have been met for this skill to be offered.
An Evanesce Glister Squire seeks to reclaim lost techniques and customs of ancient origin. This squire has no genuine or individual master as they endeavor to become a [Sprite] Knight that practices, seeks, and ultimately guards or extinguishes a glister of radiance buried deep in the abyss of antiquity. In other words, the masters have been long unremembered.
[Synthesis Glister Squire]
Conditions have been met for this skill to be offered.
Like Evanesce Glister Squire, a Synthesis Glister Squire seeks to reclaim lost techniques and customs of ancient origin. However, the Synthesis Glister Squire aims to claim the glister buried in the abyss and harmonize it with newer ideas. Rather than guard or extinguish it, they make it their own.
[Forlorn Shade Squire]
A return to a more straightforward and less restrictive path for those that believe that forgotten antiquity was disremembered for one good reason or another. If selected, the entity will be capable of pursuing the rare Forlorn Wraith Knight trade in the future.
My eyes drift between the top two choices. ‘I thought it smart to wait since it’s a mystery, but the world refuses to allow me the luxury.’
Removing a Cosmic Atlas pamphlet, I spend time looking through the information. I read a section on Novice skills, “According to the Cosmic System, skills are made up of magics, abilities, and select trades. Of the three, the select trades skills are the most intertwined with the other two. A trade skill is offered to those that have requisite abilities, magics, or conditions that allow a person to develop along that path. In the end, trade skills are thought to be comparable to abilities and magics. Still, the means of advancing them can sometimes be vague. Check back in the future for more information.”
‘Glister Squire, is a trade of some type perhaps? That explains the oddness of it.’ I set the pamphlet down. Sir Mouser jumps onto the table and pushes the pamphlet off the side. ‘...I still do not know what it means exactly, but I shall take the Synthesis Glister Squire skill, Cosmic System.’
Congratulations!
You have earned the “Synthesis Glister Squire” skill.
Prepare for memory upload.
More images appear in my mind. It’s black; there is naught around me. From the sky, tiny motes of light fall like rain. These lights display their own pictures. Rituals, dances, ceremonies, celebrations, each one contains its own wonderful performance filled with emotion. The images fade and disappear.
Sir Mouser springs high into the air as I throw up my hands. ‘How do I even advance this skill!?’
----------------------------------------
3rd day of January 0 A.E.
+1 Strength
2 Stat Points Remaining
Terra and I stand at the edge of quarantine on a hilltop, watching the preparations taking place around Cedar Hill.
Cedar Hill has been shaded by a flowing red canopy, and the army is in the process of fastening a skirt around the canopies outside.
Below this canopy is a nightmarish sight. The people infected by the spores have been warped. Some are attached to the ground with their arms spread like trees, others shamble between them barely appearing human, and the remaining beat against the fence.
The soldiers drag the last piece of the canopy’s skirt around the outside, blocking the people and spores inside.
We walk down the hill toward the quarantine shelter. {How many did we save in the end?}
Terra answers in an instant, {Seven hundred and eighty-nine unawoken cured alongside Forty-two awoken. Nineteen of which were healed thanks to your ‘tempering,’ an interesting trick, by the way.}
I kick some loose snow from my boot. Without looking up, I ask, {So over eight hundred lost?}
Her eyes narrow as she watches the kicked snow roll across the ground. {...That’s one way to look at it. Though, I’d urge you not to think of it like that.}
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
While kneading my fingers together, I say, {I spent a lot of time pondering it last night. It was not our doing, and I will not let them terrorize me…. But I do intend to hold the Pit’s Maw responsible for every single death.}
{I’d say that’s probably a healthier way to think about it,} she says, brushing a silver braid of hair behind her ear. {We’ll both hold them all accountable.}
I nod.
Stopping several feet away from the shelter’s outside, we watch soldiers stretch cords taut around the foot of the skirt. They stake the cords in the snow and then empty bags of sand to fill the gap between snow and skirt.
{...They shan’t suffer?}
Terra shakes her head. {It’ll be painless.}
{When… when are we to inform their families and friends?}
A soldier waves Terra and me to the side. “Ma’ams, please make space for the fumigation tube trailer,” she says in a muffled voice. We back away as a truck with several large tubes creeps by us; the words “carbon monoxide” are written on its back in black letters. A dozen soldiers follow each of them carrying containers of heliotrope.
Peering at the heliotrope canisters, Terra says, {I’ll be talking to the families and friends later. Most have already figured it out on their own. They saw the state everyone was in before we removed them, and they saw how we were struggling to supply the heliotrope. It wasn’t difficult for them to put two and two together.}
{...Should it not be me that tells them? Does it not seem unfair for thou to do it?}
{It’s better if they attach Galtry’s face to the news rather than the Fairy’s.}
{But, nay. Is this not the sort of thing I should tell them?}
She crosses her arms, glancing at some of her men watching from afar. {Galtry exists to be feared, the Fairy exists to be loved. This isn’t something the Fairy’s name should be associated with until the Pilgrim’s loyalty is firm.}
A gossamer pipe from the shelter is coupled to the side of the ‘tube trailer.’ [1] The heliotrope canisters are handled much the same, except with smaller lines.
Terra frowns while watching them fasten the heliotrope canister to the shelter. {We’re going to have to figure out what to do about the heliotrope and the Army. They’ve already started nudging their way into our siphoning operations. It’s only a matter of time before they make official demands, and there’s a fair chance they’ll be unfulfillable.}
{Mayhaps I should fulfill the request they made of us earlier? I recall Earl mentioning that the Tower may be ready to expand soon. I could allocate them their space early.}
{...You’re thinking of expansion? The first Pilgrims aren’t even going in until Friday.}
{Aye, but it’s an option.}
{Yeah, I guess….} A group of soldiers run by, carrying an arm full of rations. {And we’ll need those twelve military vehicles they promised us now too. A lot of my medicines were blown up by the Maw. I have warehouses of daily items, but medicines, I hoped we could learn to make our own in the year it took for them to expire. Now we’re going to have to scavenge them. By the way, did those poppy plants grow? We’re running low on morphine.}
I think back to the monster I created that now inhabits the poppy flower field and the blankets of silk that covered it last I saw it.
{...They grew,} I say with a thumbs-up.
“Hey,” a low voice says. “I heard someone managed to get out of the quarantine. Is that true?”
Terra and I look over to see two soldiers talking to one another.
A female soldier shakes her head. “Not sure. There haven’t been any formal reports, but I know someone definitely cut the fence with bolt cutters.”
“Hmm, well, if it was a spud or something, it would have walked toward the nearest soldier. I’d bet money someone was trying to break in.”
“More than likely.” She pauses, thinks for a moment, and then adds, “The bolt cutters were on the inside of the fence, though.”
“...Oh, really? Well, I guess it’s good someone found the hole. Some moron could have gotten more people killed. It’s bad enough as it is, and I don’t know how much more I can take of this. I tried to talk to the unit’s therapist, and he had a breakdown in the middle of my session.”
The female soldier taps a boot against a heliotrope canister. “All I can say is thank the God in Light for these.” She sighs. “I hope being able to save them will help stop the suicides.”
“Yeah… me too. I heard about Private Wells this morning.”
The pair march away. They no longer speak to one another.
I look at Terra.
Shaking her head, Terra says, {We’ll ask General Riddick about the fence cutting, but I think we’ll go without mentioning the latter part of their conversation.} She gestures for me to follow. {Speaking of which, let’s go find General Riddick. They won’t start until they know we’re here.}
With a nod, I follow.
By sundown, the former occupants of Cedar Hill lie silent.
----------------------------------------
Fumigated Lv.1 Rooted Spore Tree
Fumigated Lv.1 Spudded Shambler
Fumigated Lv.1 Fungal Crowns
Asphyxiated Lv.1 Spud
.
.
.
.
Principal Contributors: Entity 27101, Entity 1323
Final Blow: N/A
Primary Support: Entity 93803
Secondary Supports: x39 Entities
17% of Essence Received
Essence value: 613
----------------------------------------
4th day of January 0 A.E.
“These cuts refuse to close.” Terra points at a burning wound on the corpse of a rotten Pit ruffian. “Even if I sow it shut with my tome’s binding, the yellow flame still permeates it.”
Earl appears, standing on the table next to the corpse. Squatting, she studies the damage and nods. “Response: These are traces of the Kiln Mithridates’s flame. Wielded by an Interface to protect the Kiln in an emergency.”
{We were aware of that but can it be removed?} I ask.
“Answer: This one can’t assimilate it since doing so would contaminate the Mistress’s own flame, but this one can use the Mistress’s flame to burn the traces away.”
Crossing her arms, Terra says, “Fighting fire with fire, inside a body. Does that carry any side effects?”
“Query: does turning a spirit to cinder qualify as one of these ‘side effects’ of which the Acolyte speaks?”
Terra sighs. “It does.”
With a grin, Earl nods and says, “Answer: Then there are ‘side effects,’ Acolyte.” Turning to me, she asks, “Query: Does the Mistress recall the discussion on Traces of Tenebrous?”
{Aye?}
“Statement: The traces in this fleshie are analogous. The spirit residue of the Kiln Mithridates is using the spirit and residue that once inhabited this flesh as kindling. It will burn until there is nothing left. Query: Does the Mistress recall where the traces usually linger?”
{I believe it was the major organs. The brain had the most, and the heart was a close second?}
“Response: That’s correct. Statement: A trace of a Kiln’s flame, in other words, its residue will burn until there is nothing left to burn. If the Mistress wishes to save the fleshie Lorcan then the Kiln Mithridates’s residue will need to be extracted from wherever it may be.”
“Are you suggesting surgery?” Terra asks.
Earl shrugs. “Answer: Surgery might work if the fleshie can survive all the poking, slicing, and grating inside of the major organs by a fleshie that’s capable of removing it when or if found.”
“That’s just a drawn-out ‘no,’ isn’t it?”
Giggling, Earl turns to me and says, “Statement: This one will help the Mistress prepare to use the humorism skill on the fleshie.”
{Prepare? ...I mean, I suppose? Since seeing Lorcan’s condition, I have wanted to decipher the underpinnings of humorism. Seasons, age, elements, organs, qualities, and temperament are the concepts that have been blended into humorism, but I am unsure which are genuine and which are ignorance. It seems I can assume there is at least a smidgen of truth in the organ-centric concepts.}
“Wait. I think I’m out of the loop here, and I’m missing something.” Terra raises an eyebrow and purses her lips. “The two of you keep throwing around the word ‘humorism’ a lot. ...Am I mishearing, maybe?”
With a grin, Earl nods. “Prediction: The Mistress will be prepared to make an attempt by this time tomorrow.”
----------------------------------------
5th day of January 0 A.E.
+1 Perception
+1 Acuity
No Stat Points Remaining
Achieved Novice Supine Humorism [Grade 3]
Achieved Novice Supine Humorism [Grade 4]
Achieved Novice Invasive Scrounger [Grade 5]
Terra, Earl, Scarlett, Dr. Jäger, and a group of six doctors surround Lorcan’s bed as I raise my hand over his mouth.
Turning my head, I look toward the girl standing off to the side of everyone else, Scarlett. Her gray-blue eyes watch me between an opening in the layers of her clothing. Though she has recovered her senses after sleeping for forty-two of the last seventy-two hours, her body has been altered forever. Scarlett’s skin has become ‘damaging’ to any living person that touches it. In a way, she is the manifestation of hoary if it was a person. At the very least, her personality is intact though I am told she has been less talkative than in the past.
I wave Scarlett closer so that she can watch what’s happening. She steps forward and bumps into the back of Miss Yarborough’s wheelchair.
“I-I’m sorry,” Scarlett stutters. “Did I run into someone?”
“Oh, no, no, don’t worry about it. It was just my wheelchair, hun,” Miss Yarborough replies.
A translucent little boy dashes into the tent. “Sorry! I was distracted,” Nick says. “I was looking for something that, Ee, told me about.”
Nick takes Scarlett’s hand and guides her to my side.
{Ee?} Terra questions with a smirk. {Does he mean Earl?}
{Aye, he’s been calling her ‘Ee’ for the past day or so for some reason.}
Earl’s lantern squeaks as she raises it close to her face. “Statement: This one never consented to such a designation. The spirit Nick disobeyed this one’s orders. The minor spirit, Nick, doesn’t realize how vulnerable they are to things like this one.”
Scarlett watches the two with a fascination
{I’m sure this must be frustrating for you... Ee,} Terra says with sarcasm.
With a smile, Earl tilts her head at Terra. “Warning:...” She lowers her voice to a whisper, “The Mistress is not always watching, Acolyte.”
There’s a cough, Dr. Jäger watches Scarlett, Terra, and me with a furrowed brow. He’s the only doctor here that’s comfortable speaking in Terra’s presence. “Yes, so, what did you call this type of medicine again?” he asks in a thick accent. “When you were explaining it, it sounded… is archaic the correct word?”
A young doctor smiles. Hearing Dr. Jäger speak, his courage grows, and he adds, “Y-yeah, I think earlier you said something about… ‘seasons’ and ‘elements.’ Uhm, are we going to wave our hands over the top of them or something?”
Another doctor raises a hand at the younger doctor. “I think what the doctor means is...” They hesitate, glancing at Terra and me with a drop of sweat. With a half-opened mouth, they ask, “Is this medicinal, or is it, maybe... a ‘prayer’ of some sort?”
I glance at Terra. Her eyes have bags beneath them. She stayed up all night explaining what happened to the people of Cedar Hill while I practiced and studied some books she gave me.
{Humorism, it’s humorism,} I say to her.
Glancing at me, she shakes her head. Keeping her ‘Galtry’ demeanor, she answers, “Spirit Crafts... Nightingale Spirit Crafts. And it’s not what you think it is; it just sounds a lot like it.”
“Spirit Crafts? So, not hand waving, but healing crystals or something?” Scratching the back of his neck, the young doctor asks, “I mean, there is magic, so… maybe?”
Terra glares at the young doctor; their face turns pale. “I already said it’s not healing crystals,” she says, motioning toward me. “Just watch the procedure.”
Before beginning, I look toward Miss Yarborough.
She smiles. “I might have peeked in to see you healing those nineteen people the other day. If you could heal someone that looked like them, I have confidence you can do the same for my Lorcan.” Pursing her lips, she points at me. “But, if something goes wrong, you better start runnin’.”
My eyes dart between Lorcan and Miss Yarborough. ‘Can I outpace someone with wheels? I could lose her in the snow, surely.’
Miss Yarborough chuckles. “I’m only kidding, Miss Nightingale. Just… just do your best, okay? I feel like he’s slipping away from me a little more every day.”
With a nod, I close my heliotrope eye, leaving only my hoary eye open. Lorcan’s body loses color in my vision while the jaundiced flames become as clear as the sun is bright.
As heliotrope flows from my palm, my vision fades, and I see through the heliotrope. I have practiced using my Scrounger Skill over my heliotrope form, as it’s a more tactful method. The heliotrope slips into Lorcan’s nostrils. If my practice yesterday was any indication, this will be the challenging part. I have to find a nerve at the back of Lorcan’s nose to trace, but the only light inside his body is the tiny amount that the heliotrope provides.
I am not certain how much time has passed when I find it, the olfactory nerve. My heliotrope follows one of the many olfactory nerves as if it’s a road for it to travel along. Once it nears its end, I notice a light coming from a tiny opening, and all the ‘roads’ merge into one. The haze enters a space that’s illuminated by what resembles specks of yellow sand, floating about a burning pink core.
‘This is the inside of Lorcan’s skull, his brain cavity? If that fire is around his brain, then I have confirmed its existence; I am certain Miss Yarborough will be pleased...’
The heliotrope encircles the specks of yellow sand. I retract the heliotrope from his brain cavity, back along his nostrils, out into the open, and then into a small glass jar. I hold up the jar with only a few small particles of sand inside.
‘...Good lord, the brain cavity alone is going to take hours. The only thing worse is cleaning Fey’s kiln.’
The doctors all squint. “...Are we supposed to be seeing something?” the young doctor whispers.
Scarlett shuffles closer. She moves her head around the jar, staring at the little bits of sand inside with her dull eyes. “Fairy, what’re those? Were they inside him somewhere? His head? I think I might have saw them, maybe?”
‘Aye.’ I nod. Poking out my chest, I hand the jar to her so that she can see my doctorly work better. Indeed, they were…. My apprentice!’
Achieved Novice Glister Squire [Grade 1]
‘Why did it advance!? What does surgery have to do with being a squire!?’