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Zeroth Moment: My Cheat Skill Is Stupid, So I'll Just Ignore It
Chapter One Hundred and Seven: I'm Finished Making Sense, Done Pleading Ignorance

Chapter One Hundred and Seven: I'm Finished Making Sense, Done Pleading Ignorance

A short, barking laugh escaped Topher, entirely involuntarily; he shook his head in amazement. "That's got to be some kind of record." As one, he and Kelfir left the shore of the underground river and made their way back to the archway; Topher moved to join Varissian, while Kelfir stopped short to assess it in some way Topher couldn't perceive. However, as he moved to cross the threshold, Topher found himself held back as before -- he blinked and stepped back a pace. "Hey, what gives? I thought you said you got through?"

"I did," responded Varissian curtly, "but it seems that doing so did not undo the binding. I had hoped that it might somehow recognize you as my companions, but..." The elf shrugged.

"Okay, well, whatever." Topher pursed his lips. "What was the pass-phrase? Or was it something else?"

"Ah... I am not actually certain," Varissian hedged. "I uttered several words in sequence, then found myself lying on the floor within the entryway. I am not sure which of them sufficed, or if they were all required together."

Topher nodded. "Okay then, what were they? We'll try and see if we can get in."

Varissian looked mildly embarrassed. "'Solush vhyss ilum salffaddas' is the precise phrase I was in the process of uttering, in fact."

Now it was Kelfir's turn to laugh -- a wry, sandpapery cackle which was utterly at odds with any other noise Topher had ever heard him make. As he turned to stare at the Archmage in surprise, the older elf shook his head, grinning crookedly. "It is not a particularly regal sentiment," he chortled, winking at Topher. "To use your vernacular as best I understand it, I believe you might translate it as 'Begone with the indicated ill-considered offal of cows'."

Topher squinted at Kelfir in confusion, which rapidly escalated into disbelief. "Are you telling me the actual passphrase to an enchantment two millennia old is literally 'fuck this stupid bullshit' in Elvish?"

"The sentiment is not precisely as such," Varissian sniffed as Kelfir continued laughing, "but I suppose that is a close enough meaning for a less-refined language." He stepped forward, waving a hand experimentally ahead of him, and breathed a sigh of relief as it passed harmlessly through the boundary. "At minimum, it seems I am not trapped within, which is pleasing; shall I rejoin you, or will you enter?"

"Your theory must first be confirmed," Kelfir corrected him sternly. Trying manfully to maintain a solemn mien, he stepped forward to the threshold and intoned, "Solush vhyss ilum salffaddas," before striding confidently forward; however, the ward halted him in his tracks just as before, and he turned a baleful eye upon Varissian. "It seems the solution is not quite so straightforward."

What Topher saw next astonished him; in that instant, he saw Varissian's refined facade crack and crumple beneath the pressure of his father's disapproval. Emotion flooded his face -- confusion, chagrin, and outrage -- and for just a moment, he saw the raw hurt festering within. It was gone as soon as it appeared; in its place, he merely furrowed his brow and pursed his lips. "I do not understand. It is as I have related."

"What about a visualization? Or an emotional component?" Topher interjected, trying to salvage the situation. "Were you feeling anything in particular when you said it?"

"I imagine," Kelfir cut in dismissively, "that frustration and contempt were at the forefront of his mind; components of which, I assure you, I also have no shortage." He beckoned to Varissian. "Let us verify that you can exit and reenter."

Obediently, the younger elf strode forward out of the Crypt with no difficulty; however, when he turned about to reenter, he was just as unable as before. Topher could read exasperation in every line of Varissian's posture as he made attempt after attempt, muttering elven invective with increasing vehemence. "This is most vexing. How could it..."

"No matter," Kelfir interrupted, making a dismissive gesture. "It is well enough that we cannot reenter now; the day grows late, and I do not wish to enter an Elder Dungeon without my full MP. Let us make camp; though we can ill-afford the delay, we are served yet less by perishing due to recklessness." He gestured, and a golden structure appeared in a flash of light; it appeared to be another opulent gazebo, like he'd summoned to transport Topher and the others out of the underground grove, but this time it had a trio of beds instead of a quartet of chairs. "You may disregard any need for a watch; I will safeguard us from any but the most dedicated assaults."

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Varissian opened his mouth to object, then frowned and appeared to change his mind; instead, he nodded to his father. "As you wish, Archmagus." Without further words, he strode forward towards one of the beds.

Kelfir watched him depart with an unreadable expression, then turned back to Topher. "Let us continue our previous conversation another time; I am fatigued." When Topher scowled, he raised his hands placatingly; Topher could see frustration in his face, but also knew it wasn't directed at him. "I have heard your words, I assure you. But there are many facts of which you are unaware; it is not as easy as it likely appears. I must think deeply regarding what you have said."

Topher started to swear, then swallowed it; the memory of what he'd felt at Kal'Pandu returned to him, softening his bitterness. "Right. I guess it might be a little unfair of me to expect you to do five hundred years' worth work of introspection in an afternoon, especially if it comes from a human." He tried his best to give the Archmage a look of understanding.

"Your race is not quite the handicap you imply," Kelfir murmured in response, looking back to where Varissian was climbing into one of the beds. "But neither is it a boon. There is more at stake than the feelings of a father and a son." Before Topher could ask him to explain, he shook his head and walked away; Topher couldn't help but notice he picked the bed furthest from Varissian's, and turned to face away as he laid down.

Topher sighed. Baby steps, I guess. I guess it was a bit much to hope they'd be singing Kumbaya five minutes after I got here.

He's still doing more than Dad ever did, the distant part of his mind noted mercilessly. Makes you wonder how much Dad was struggling with that he never let on, doesn't it?

Topher scowled and practically hurled himself into the remaining bed. Yeah, fuck that. I might forgive him someday, but it damn sure ain't gonna be today. With a sudden burst of anger, he pulled the thick woolen blanket over his head. And the next hundred years don't look likely either.

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The next morning, no one seemed to be inclined towards conversation; they ignored each other as they awoke, munched the food Topher Summoned in silence, and immediately resumed their efforts to enter the Crypt. To his obvious irritation, Varissian found himself unable to duplicate his previous feat; they tried leaving him by himself again, resuming their previous positions, and even acted out a replay of their previous conversations in the vain hope that it could be reproduced, but nothing worked.

Then, just when everyone was almost ready to quit, it happened; quite by accident, Topher tripped while moving to examine part of the masonry and fell headlong into the entrance. As he'd expected, the binding buoyed him up and pushed him back; but, out of a perverse frustration, he simply hung there and let it bear his weight, crossing his arms and grumbling. After a moment, however, his pique dissolved into lassitude; he turned around and leaned back, letting the counterforce of the enchantment support him entirely, and found that it was not quite uniform. As the force proceeded upwards, it also receded, like a curved dome; with some squirming, he found that he could rest his entire weight atop it, like a hammock.

The instant he did so, Varissian sprang upright; his finger, like an accusing augur, shot out towards Topher. "Christopher! Do not move!"

"Eh? Wazzat?" Topher felt both alarmed and annoyed; man, this woulda been a great place for a nap. "What'd I do?"

Then, before he knew what was happening, he was falling; the ground rose up beneath him and slammed into his back, although the impact was totally painless through his Arch Shielding. "Oh shit!" He scrambled to his feet, gripping his head in surprise. "I get it! This is what you were doing!"

"Precisely!" Varissian's face bore an uncharacteristic expression of excitement and delight; he sprinted over to the doorway and wriggled his way up to where Topher had been, then let his weight sink back in the same manner. From within the doorway, Topher could see it; bereft of actual impetus, the binding could not sustain its repulsion, and the elf's body was slowly sagging downwards as he relaxed. After a few moments, he dropped low enough to cross the plane of exclusion; but this time, he was prepared enough to land on his feet. "I do not understand it; but nevertheless, we are successful." He crossed his arms and fixed his gaze on Kelfir, who was standing outside with a disapproving expression. "Provided, of course, all three of us can manage the traversal. It may prove difficult for the Archmagus to match my proficiency for indolence."

Kelfir remained silent; instead, he strode to the entryway and repeated what they had done. When all three of them were inside the entrance, no one spoke for a long moment; then Kelfir turned to Varissian. "Orinor, I wish to make two things known to you." He took a deep breath. "The first is that I recognize your accomplishment, despite its provenance from serendipity rather than effort; results, as they say, are results." Then, unexpectedly, his mouth twisted in a sour smile, and merriment twinkled in his eyes. "And second, 'proficiency for indolence' is rare wit. If nothing else, I am entertained."

Varissian's mouth dropped open slightly in surprise, but Kelfir turned away quickly; he stepped forward into the darkness of the entryway, beckoning for the others to follow. "But we must proceed swiftly. Already a day has been lost; let us not wait idly for the axe of the True Demon Lord to fall upon us a second time." Varissian looked at Topher and nodded; then, as one, they descended into the dungeon.