As the waters tainted in a ghastly violet liquid that expanded with each passing second, David couldn't help but panic a tiny little bit—alright, maybe quite a bit.
There were children, eggs, and young couples that depended on those waters.
Was it possible that he had destroyed an entire environment?
The minuscule Ali'ati's corpses slowly started emerging. They were so small that they looked like bubbles on the water's surface. However, summoning his Status, David could see that his Well was diminishing; it had barely gone over the 5% threshold but was already diminishing.
Maybe the vast amount of water would solve the problem on its own; he could only hope for it. So, sighing, he got to finishing the four Waspers that had wet their wings and couldn't fly anymore.
Seeing them up-close, they were very nasty creatures.
Big compound eyes adorned their little heads, four sets of little wings, too small for their heavy bodies, sprouted from their backs, and their bottoms had a set of pincers that looked powerful enough to free him of his fingers if he was dumb enough to get caught by them.
So, David decided to end them with his hands by gripping their heads and…squashing them. “Ugh…”
Just as he had finished the nasty job of killing the four remaining Waspers, the Source finally announced the end of his quest.
The Source
Congratulations, Deviant Son! You have beaten your third Source Quest.
Your Level reaches 3. You receive 1 Attribute point.
Blessing of the Source, Resilience + 1.
You received 30 Skill-Level Tokens!
Once again, David put his free Attribute point into Mind, then summoned his complete Status screen, with Skills on top.
Status
Name: Deviant (David Anderson) Son
Blessing: Blessing of The Source (Unique) – Resilience + 1 every Level
Title: Trespasser (Unique): Locked
Level: 3
Arcanist, Class level: 2
Class Perks: Source Sight
Attributes
Health: 100%
Stamina: 100%
Well: 4.6%
Alacrity: 5
Constitution: 5
Perception: 4
Strength: 5
Mind: 12
Resilience: 13
Charisma: 4
Attribute points: 0
Auxiliary Skills
Communication Skill: A.S.U.T., Level 17
Healing Skill: Survivalist, Level 10
Profession Skill: Drawing, Level 6
Style Skill: Stealth, Level 10
Class Skills
Primary Magic Mastery: Arcane Magic, Level 2
Fast Primary Magic-Skill: Homing Arcane Missile, Level 11
Heavy Primary Magic-Skill: Arcane Discharge, Level 2
Passive Attribute Skills
Alacrity Passive Skill: N.A.
Constitution Passive Skill: N.A.
Perception Passive Skill: N.A.
Strength Passive Skill: N.A.
Mind Passive Skill: Multitasking, Level 3
Resilience Passive Skill: Curse Resistance, Level 1
Charisma Passive Skill: N.A:
Skill-Level Tokens: 30
Happy with his haul and definitely not eager to spend those Skill-Level Tokens, David—now feeling the chilly temperature more than ever—decided that it was time to visit the next tunnel…or one of them.
It was lucky that he had managed to bring the creatures down before they destroyed the environment entirely. Still, although the zone was now covered with the alien bees' corpses, the bulk of them had saved their lives by barricading themselves into the beehive. So, Dave turned his attention to the state of the pool of water. It was violet and covered with bubbly fish.
He dove back where he had come from, and thankfully, he noticed that the poisoning had reached only up to the tunnel's bifurcation; the Cleansing water were already doing their job. They would swiftly dilute and take the place of the tainted water.
Content with his problem having been solved by itself, David swam in front of the two parallel tunnels; then, shrugging, he took the one on his left.
When he came out from the other end of it, he found himself in a dark yet much warmer environment. The big fireflies were everywhere his eyes could reach. The hall looked a lot like the one where the "spring" was located, it was just smaller, and the light was coming up from an exit at his right.
Turning around, David found an identical mirror of water, not even thirty meters farther.
"If that's the parallel tunnel, I'm a knobhead…" He went back to check. Diving back to the bifurcation and taking the opposite tunnel, he came out in exactly the same room.
"Well fuck me." Exasperated, David got out of the water, and juggling among overgrown mushrooms that shone like light bulbs, he reached the exit.
"This is a barrier," He noticed.
The exit had been blurred, but it was clear that it was the same barrier that the Myst-caller had placed at the entrance of the breeding grounds.
"Will I find myself in the jungle if I leave this place? Who is going to open the door for me if I do and wish to come back later?"
David passed his hand over the barrier, he knew that he had been sent here for a reason, he felt that these people—these Fey—didn't want him to die, they were helping him, he couldn't understand why, but they had saved his hide, multiple times over.
Yet, outside of this place, only death waited for him. Even had he placed the last two points he earned into Resilience, he still would have less than half the amount needed and sixteen hours to go before his Arcane Discharge got off cooldown.
Could he upgrade it with his Skill-Token? No, he didn't want to use those; it felt like a waste.
"Besides, taking off five minutes per level, with eighteen levels to go is…1 hour and a half, it's not worth it—hey, placing points into Mind must be paying dividends."
Still, he kept caressing the barrier, tempted, "Yeah… I'm staying right here, they can wa—" a hand burst through the barrier, catching David's.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
***
"I told you," said an exasperated Cyana, "we are not here to blame you for any killing; we would never…" But the Myst-caller just wouldn't let her speak.
"You should know that we are free people; we cannot live in the City, for our children are not born with your Resilience." He raised his arms, pointing at the ceiling, "These breeding grounds have been sanctioned in the Pact; you simply cannot barge here, whether you are looking for your suspect or not."
"Good, guard," interrupted Captain Virael. But both the Myst-caller and Five in tow corrected him.
"It's Myst-caller," they said in a chorus.
Virael sighed, but only for a moment, his face morphed into one showing an unbearable disgust, "Good Myst-caller, we are not here to barge in, we've been trying to explain this to you for the past half an hour; it just enters through one ear and leaves through the other. I'm starting to believe you don't want to allow us passage. But, since you are speaking about the Pact, you must definitely know that entitled entities, like ours, have to be given full access, exactly the same benefits of whom your Ancient are entitled with. Which means that I have all the means—and abilities—to bring down your barrier if you keep up your unquestionably fraudulent excuses to buy yourself time."
Cyana had never heard Virael speak on those terms before. Indeed ever since he had received the last call from the Headquarter, he had become a little edgier. She had been barely managing to rein in her emotions, but for the Captain to react in such a way was…unexpected.
Maybe Khrali's death had been weighing on him too—still, they were not close, they had never even been on the same team, it was even likely that they had never met since their work was so different, so maybe that was not the case.
However, the Myst-caller knew how to speak himself; his answer was indeed unexpected from Cyana. So much so that her eyebrows shot up hearing it.
"I don't believe it would be wise of you," said the Myst-caller, slamming his staff on the ground, "someone might get hurt." His eyes were unwavering.
"Was that insubordination I just heard?" Said Virael. His hand slowly reached for the thick wide-sword hanging from his right side.
"Oh, no, it wasn't. It was a statement," the old-Fay answered.
"Is that so? I should not remember to you that we have been chosen and sent here directly from the Empire," interjected Five, butting in. His hand slowly reaching for his blaster. "So, I ask you, Old-Myst-caller, to rephrase your statement. Who is it that is going to get hurt, again?" Five put emphasis on each word, but Cyana had already been on a team mission with him; he was just a jokester.
Suddenly, something changed in the Myst-caller's gaze; he seemed more… at ease; then he chuckled, "But of course..." he said, "the one getting hurt—that would be me."
Cyana almost stumbled, "Pardon?"
His tone changed entirely, "I'm old—don't you see? I need this staff to walk straight. While you, younglings, your planet revolves around its star five times as fast as ours. You should not go picking trouble with an old-Fey. I have yet to enter the Ancient's life-cycle, you know…I'm just old…Really who taught you your manners," he said, shaking his head.
"Fifty Arthan years ago, there were generations of proper Fiends; now every single one of you is ready to cause troubles…ah, time runs so fast…too fast."
Cyana saw Virael relax, and Five chuckle and shake his head.
Avoiding troubles with the Fey was the best possible outcome. The same could be said about Fiends.
"Please, come in, just don't make a mess and don't shout; children are sleeping at this hour," he said, parting the barrier with a wave of his hand.
A much more controlled Virael nodded, "Thank you, Myst-caller, we'll be as silent as possible. My assistant, Five, shall scry the place," then he turned toward Cyana.
"Three, you look around, discorporate, and search every centimeter of the place," saying, so he turned back to the Myst-caller.
"Gentle old-Fay, if you would, I need to speak with your Eye," Virael said.
The Myst-caller nodded, "Please, captain, call me Randiallen, and who should I announce?"
"Virael, Virael Renegade Xaphi'rel'i."
It was the Myst-caller's turn to be surprised.
He bowed, "Renegade prince, it's an honor."
"No reason for formalities, old-Fay. My title says it all."
Indeed, there was a reason if Cyana had even managed to stare directly at Virael during the march all those years before. It was for back in the time, Virael was still a prince of the Xaphi'rel Empire. He stood tall among the princes and princesses, marching on with General's A’astor’s retinue.
If he hadn't, she would have never been able to stare at him or even make herself be noticed, there were so many people after all.
She had fallen for him ever since, and she would never, ever tell him. For it was not part of her code, not part of her Creed. She was devoted to the Empire. She had sworn—
Khrali.
Her thoughts about romantic love disappeared just like that.
An image of her brother's dead body flashed in her mind, and she pushed it away. If she wanted, she could seal the memory of him behind a mental barrier, but no, she would not abandon her brother's memory into oblivion. Besides, it was a delicate process. It could take her years to properly make such magic without destroying what had made her who she was today.
Leaving her thoughts aside and focusing on her job ahead, Cyana sat down right there, by the entrance, at the center of the room; she prepared for discorporation.
Sitting down, her eyes noted something, residues of lines, traces of something drawn in the ground, her eyes met Five, who had caught on with them just before he started his scrying.
They shared a nod of understanding. She had never even looked at the face behind Five's helmet. However, she didn't need to know his face's details to be sure that the Fiend was an exceptional member of the Special Forces.
Fiend
Level: 66
Five was shorter than an average Fiend, she was more than a few centimeters taller than him, and although his physique showed that he had indeed chosen the route of the Rogue, Five seemed to be good at pretty much everything he did.
He dabbled into more than a few weird forms of Magic, abilities common to Fighters, and perks tied to Rogues than she had known possible. He was capable of doing many things, yet scrying was one of the little things at which he excelled; for a Rogue, of course.
She saw him grab a pinch of sand and raise his visor; his face was darkened by the occultation enchantment placed on their abyssal dark suits. He licked the dust or inhaled it, she couldn't say; yet she knew that it was part of the scrying process.
Cyana forced herself to withdraw her gaze from Five's work. She was wasting time, and she knew that it was because of her brother's death. The idler she was, the easier it was for the event to catch up to her.
Virael had started leaving with the Myst-caller, and she had yet to discorporate. She better acted fast.
Once again, taking a big breath, she initiated her Magic, then her ethereal echo exited her body, flying over and above Virael's head, passing it by.
Hovering in mid-air, invisible to all those there at that moment, she noticed something, just for a tiny little second—she could have imagined it, but—did the Myst-caller just smile at her?
Her echo stopped in mid-flight studying the Myst-caller’s face. It didn't show her any other speck of attention; she must have imagined it. She was still shaken, for if he had seen her...then she knew less about Myst-calling than she believed, which was impossible based on how much she had prepared for joining the Special Unit, or, the Fay was a Sentry and was now hiding his Title.
For crying out loud, she was already Level 61. Yes, she was still young for Xaphi’rel's years but so was Five. Still, she could not be unprepared about Fey's signature Classes. What kind of Special Forces failed in that? No—no, she had not failed. The Myst-caller simply hadn't really looked at her, it was just a chance, a fluke, he was smiling, and she found herself in his general direction, that was all; besides, she would be able to check on her memories…when she'd have some time to finally breathe.
She had work to do.
Work would help her—help her forget.
It was not the first time Cyana had been into a Fey breeding ground. Back when she had yet to be selected as a Special Forces agent, she had visited an abandoned breeding ground or, maybe, saying fallen breeding ground was the right term.
Ten years prior, she was on a trip with her brother when they found an abandoned one; it was on the other side of the planet, but it had been abandoned for the Cleansing spring had been contaminated by the rising level of Source Poisoning. Recovering it had become...impossible.
It was by no means the first time she heard of something of the like happening, and she knew, everybody knew, both in Varya, in the City, and in the rest of Arthan Fiends' settlements, that the planet's Resilience Threshold was rising, and it was inevitable.
Cyana thought about this and other things when she delved through the tunnels that made the breeding ground, but then there it was, an evident trace of something that couldn't have been done by Fey—a drawing and a stick, lying by one of the pools.
The pool had been left alone, for the children were sleeping, but if one had studied the Wood Fey as well as she did, one would know that Fey didn’t break plant life; they only ate what was bestowed to them by the green life, and they would never dare to break a branch, damaging one of their evergreen trees. They would sooner hurt themselves than do something like that.
The new generations of Wood Fey living in Varya were likely receiving the Fiend's society influx and changing their attitudes in regard to the Fey's old creed. Still, those that lived outside, those that did not clothe themselves belonged to the Rejector, they were not necessarily part of the Rebellion. Still, they shared most of their ideas, but the one about retaliating with violence.
She caressed the faint traces of emotions that still remained in the air around the painting; surely a Profession or Art Skill...but one thing was clear. That drawing couldn't possibly belong to the unclothed children. It was the work of a neophyte in…she reclined her head to better analyze the magic circle—in Arcane Magic. One of his brother's choices of magic.
Yes, the killer had been there.
But the residual traces of emotions were too faint for it to be a new drawing; it must have been made around two hours prior, maybe it was time she—
Cyana had a foreboding.
What if the creature was still here? What if it had been hidden instead of having left? But before that, why was the painting there?
Her gaze wandered to the drawing, its location…it had been drawn near the Cleansing water, too close to the edges of it, what if someone splashed it, unless—!
Unless the one drawing stood in the water, but if they stood in the water, then the rest of their action would fit the profile they had made of the culprit. The alien creature was not suited to live at this level of Resilience Threshold; it was residing in the Cleansing water because it was unable to do otherwise! If he left the waters it would die.
It could not sustain itself on the outside. So it had to be here still!
Her mind ran back to her exploration of the fallen breeding ground. Her beloved brother held her hand as he led her through the tight tunnels where once the Cleansing water flew, but back then there was none.
The main spring was located by a set of tunnels which then fed the rest of the breeding chambers, and the spring was likely located at—
Her echo rewound, reentering her body, her eyes opened wide as she shot up.
"I know where it is!" She said to Five.
Five didn't doubt it even for a second. "I'll alert the captain, you go," he said.
"Then we are going in the same direction," she answered.
They reached the captain by juggling through the tunnels and barged through the door right away.
"Three, Five, this is not the proper way to—" Said Virael getting up.
In front of him sat the Eye, she had offered Cleansing tea to him, and of course he had accepted.
"Captain, I know where it is," Three said, then saying nothing else; she neared the balcony, looked over, and then she pointed at the dark mirror of water.
"Are you sure?" Virael asked.
"Yes, captain, but we won't spoil the water; I shall check with my Echo." She did not care whether the Eye cried or whether she herself acted without the proper etiquette. A nod from her captain was enough to allow her to go on.
***
Her Echo's movements were fast; the matter didn't hinder her; she delved through the waters without as much as a single problem.
She passed through the whole tunnel, arriving at the spring's origin, but the Cleansing rapids did not hide somebody, so she turned back and decided to check the tunnels.
Turning back from the rapids, she checked the first, the second, the third, the fourth, the fif—
There it was!
The creature was there! Waiting in front of the muddied barrier, immobile, its skin—its complexion a weak olive, its hair weird, and too curly to be natural, and it was weak.
Human
Level: 3
Human. How, how had this creature managed to kill her brother with just a stupid One-time-only Survival Token? Yes, the Token was a lifesaver, the most precious Token that the Source could offer and would ever offer, but it could not allow such a small and weak thing to kill her brother. It was nowhere close enough for producing an effect as the one displayed on Khrati. Khrati’s level was well over sixty, so how had he died against this small thing, against this…Human?
However he had done, she would catch it and bring it to justice.
Cyana could not travel through the Myst-caller barrier, so she couldn't see where the exit led, but she had a rough idea of the location; she had scouted the Breeding ground from above after all. So she rewound, and in a matter of seconds, opening her eyes wide and taking in a deep breath, she was back in her body.
She shot up, "I know where it is!"