Kapitel 39: 17-22
B2 | 17 - Embroidery
Corporal Claws, master of the log and guardian of the pond, luxuriated on her favored perch.
A cool breeze wound its way through the forest, but given her superior body, she barely noticed it. She rolled onto her back, letting a ray of sun land on her belly fluff. With a chirp of sheer contentment, she wiggled her body, settling further into the groove of her perch.
With her ascension, knowledge had poured into her body in a steady stream, making her, by her own approximation, the smartest of Fischer's students. Because of her vast intellect, she knew that as a mammal, she had subterranean fat.
Claws raised an eyebrow—that wasn't right.
Sub-cute-angus fat? Sub… sub-cretaceous? Her face crinkled in annoyance—they weren't right either.
Whatever—she was aware of her fat. She rubbed her belly for emphasis, grinning as she ran both paws through her illustrious fur and massaged the layers of fatty insulation beneath. She thought of the cultists in town claiming that crabs were the superior form, then let out a chittering chuckle—the poor fools.
She slipped back into a state of half slumber, smiling at the world's sensations as they blanketed her. Some time later, she heard a twig break. She raised her head to see a man departing, so chirped to get his attention.
Leroy froze on the spot and spun, giving her a guilty look. "Sorry—I saw you sleeping and didn't want to wake you."
She waved a dismissive paw and rolled over before stretching, arching her back and shaking with effort. When the stretch was well and truly complete, she settled back on her hindquarters and cocked her head at Leroy.
Thankfully, he understood her unspoken question—such things were to be expected of her minions.
"Fischer told me that there was a spirit in the light-blue tree." Leroy shook his head. "Man, saying that out loud makes me sound insane. I figured it might be able to help the lemon trees grow, so I came to help."
Claws's body became wreathed in lightning and she crossed her arms, staring down at the deliverer of terrible news.
Leroy took a step back. "Uh... Claws? Everything okay?"
Corporal Claws, queen of the forest and matriarch of the pond, shook with indignation. She had wanted to raise the lemon trees without anyone knowing, then surprise her master.
As quick as her frustration had come, it drained away, as did the lightning surrounding her. It wasn't Leroy's fault; her master was simply too intelligent, too prepared and calculating to be surprised in such a way. She leaped from her perch atop the log, landing silently before Leroy. She chirped once, nodded for Leroy to follow, then set off for the clearing.
They traveled in silence. Each time Claws glanced back at Leroy, he was looking up, a smile on his face as he appreciated the beauty of the forest. She approved of his wonder; her forest was magnificent indeed. Pride suffused her, and she held her head a little higher as she led him on. When they arrived at the clearing, her pride scattered like a school of fish upon seeing her deadly form beneath the waves.
"What the frack..." Leroy said from behind her, echoing her thoughts.
The clearing was no longer a clearing.
Where the forest floor surrounding the light-blue tree had previously been clear, four saplings now stood. She slunk toward one, overly cautious of the unexpected growth. When she reached it, she stood on her hind legs, and even stretching to her full height, the sapling was taller. All of its leaves were glossy, a light green that indicated fresh growth. She wrapped a padded paw around the trunk and pushed softly; it held firm, not moving even a little.
There was a blur of green and something swung down toward her. She chirped in alarm and tried to scurry away, but off balance as she was, she never stood a chance—the twig smacked her right between the eyes. Corporal Claws rolled backward with the hit. As she got to her feet, she rubbed her stinging forehead, frowning at the impudent tree.
The sapling's leaves shook with mirth, as did those of the light-blue tree.
Leroy stumbled further into the clearing, his gaze distant and eyes wide.
"There... there really is a tree spirit?" His head darted between the two shaking canopies. "No—there are two?"
Claws shook her head with a chirp. She recognized that sadistic humor—it was just like the time the spirit tripped her with a root. The same cheeky being had somehow taken over control of the lemon sapling that whacked her, if not all of them.
"No?" Leroy asked. "What do you mean?"
She pointed at all the trees, then brought her paws together, clasping them.
"You're saying it's the one spirit?"
Claws nodded. So did the sapling—an entirely unnerving action for a tree to make.
Leroy stared at the small lemon tree, his face etched with incredulity. "Y-you can hear us...?"
Again, the sapling nodded.
Seeing Leroy's awe, the whispers of a plan started forming in Claws' magnificent mind. Perhaps her plan to surprise her master wasn't ruined after all...
She rubbed her chin with one paw, just as she'd seen Fischer do when lost in thought.
Corporal Claws grinned, exposing her needle-sharp teeth as the plan further unfurled.
***
I bent my knees, braced my core, and lifted. Sand cascaded from the boulder as it left the ocean floor. Wasting no time, I strode off toward the headland.
Despite the frigid night just gone, the ocean was a pleasant temperature, especially compared to the freezing wind blowing above. Sergeant Snips and Rocky scuttled past me as they headed for another boulder. Snips blew happy little bubbles and waved a claw at me. Rocky gave me a rude gesture, which caused me to snort. Snips spun to bonk him on the head, and I thoroughly enjoyed the reproachful hisses and clicks coming from her as I strode on.
One step at a time, my powered legs launched me high above the sand, and the boulder's weight brought me back down. The temporary weightlessness made me think of an astronaut traversing the moon, and a smile came to my face unbidden.
Before I knew it, I'd arrived at the pile of boulders. Rather than place a second layer on the already constructed portion, we had started extending the base layer out to sea. It was now fifteen meters or so from the shore, and as I approached, movement caught my eye. I placed the boulder and swam over to where I thought I'd seen something. My head was tilted to the side, and as I locked eyes with a creature, a smile slowly spread over my face.
A common eel peeked out between a gap, going still in its hidey-hole as it watched me. I looked further toward shore and spotted baitfish flitting around the base layer of rocks, using them for protection. Fish were already using the new habitat despite it being nowhere near finished.
I stood there for a long moment, soaking in my surroundings. Juvenile shore fish darted from gaps in the wall before dashing back inside. The common eel slowly slunk away, not wanting anything to do with me. Different schools of unknown baitfish continued flitting around continually.
A sense of deep calm washed over me and I lost track of time.
The form of Pistachio glided through my peripheral vision and dropped his boulder. He came up beside me and joined my moment of contemplation. I glanced to the side, seeing an endless stream of curious bubbles coming from his mouth. The lobster was quiet compared to my other animal pals, but I knew that behind his mask of stoicism, a vast intellect dwelled. Of all the ascendant creatures, he likely best understood the breadth of what this structure represented for the local marine life.
The need to take a breath climbed into my awareness, so I kicked off the ocean floor gently, not wanting to spook any surrounding fish.
The midmorning sun greeted me atop the churning ocean, and I closed my eyes as I turned my face toward it. A cool breeze was still present, but the sun's heat canceled it out. I floated on my back, exposing my body to more of the rays. My ears went below the water, muffling the cries of seagulls circling high above.
It was truly a beautiful day.
***
Gary, the leader of the Cult of the Leviathan's Tropica branch, gazed out at the ocean—it was beautiful.
He stood atop the stone walkway on the eastern side of Tropica, both forearms leaning against the low wall. Birds circled above, and a strong breeze made white foam form atop waves all the way out to the horizon. He breathed deep of the salt spray, then turned and strode for the cult's headquarters.
As he swung the new door open, he marveled at the metal bracing on its internal face. Despite it being installed over a fortnight ago, he still found the addition a stark contrast to the thin, weatherbeaten door that Pistachio had annihilated when shooting Sebastian through it.
Firmly closing the door behind him, he gazed out at the room. If not for his being there, he'd never have believed the entire bottom floor had been almost demolished less than a month ago. He looked at the wall that a creature of legend had flown through—as with the room itself, no signs of destruction remained.
Memories of that evening flashed through his mind. His former master, Sebastian, hadn't made it through. Despite Gary's continued efforts to turn Sebastian from his murderous path, the man's hubris had been his downfall. Gary still partially blamed himself for that, but as he recognized that thought bubbling up, he focused instead on the present.
He traipsed toward a newly constructed bench and looked down at the contents of the tank. His fresh batch of baby lobsters scuttled about within, exploring their home. Now that he was in charge of the cult, Gary had first and final say for the environment the lobsters grew in. Previous batches had been kept in small, overcrowded tanks with no structure to hide or forage in.
Gary took a deep breath, pride swelling as he smiled down at the tank he'd created. It was twice as long as he was tall. A layer of sand covered the bottom, with rocks, shells, and patches of seaweed added that the baby lobsters could use to hide in. The lobsters in the old tanks made by Sebastian were sedentary creatures; they sat still most of the day, only moving when pellets of food were added. He had assumed that to just be what baby lobsters did
He couldn't have been more wrong.
The twenty-four lobsters within the new tank constantly moved around, searching their environment. Though he couldn't tell for sure, he thought they seemed happy. He sprinkled half a handful of pellets into the tank and watched with delight as his cute little pets scuttled from their hiding spots.
A loud knock came from the door, jolting him from his reverie. He shook his head as he strode toward it, still feeling somewhat disconnected from the present. When he opened the door, that changed.
"How are ya going, Gary?" Barry asked.
"Hi, er... sir?"
Barry laughed.
"Just Barry is fine, mate."
"Right. Sorry. What can I do for you?"
"Would you mind following me for a bit? I need help tending the weeds."
Recognizing the code phrase, Gary nodded and stepped through the doorway to join Barry outside. He closed the door and locked it.
"After you, sir—er, Barry."
Gary followed his church leader through the streets of Tropica, his heart thumping and palms clammy. It was well past the morning bustle of the village, and most of the south side residents were off tending to their fields. Barry waved at the bakery owner, Sue, as he passed, and Gary gave her a nod of greeting. The friendly lady waved back, beaming a smile at them.
They eventually came to the woodworking shop, and Barry held the door open for him. As he stepped inside, he was met with a sea of faces: both woodworkers, Brad and Greg; the tailors, Ruby and Steven; Barry's wife, Helen; her sister-in-law, Barbara; and Sharon.
All smiled or nodded at him, and he dipped his head in response.
"Now that we're all here," Barry said, "would you like to start, Ruby?"
The middle-aged woman's smile went wide as she bent and picked up a box.
"I've finally finished the robes! The stitchwork took longer than expected, but I suppose that's not really a surprise—we had to source some fine materials."
"Fine indeed," Steven, her husband, agreed.
"And that's not even the best part!" Ruby continued. "The effects! Each transformed, and they give a bonus to luck and cultivation speed, whatever that means. The embroidery is royal blue, with just a hint of gold added in to reflect the—"
Steven cleared his throat.
"You're rambling, dear."
She shot him a venomous look, but then sighed to herself. "I suppose I was." She started walking around the room and passing out small bundles. "Let me know if they don't fit. They should, though, if the measurements you gave me were correct."
As Gary accepted his robe, a great weight was shed from his shoulders.
Despite his ready acceptance of joining the church, each time he was called to a meeting, a sense of anxiety rose from within. He supposed it was a remnant of the scary stories his drunk auntie would tell about churches when he was a child.
He unfolded the bundle, running his hands along the expensive-feeling fabric as he did so. The main robe was as dark as the ocean's depths—more colorless than the night sky. On the front, right above where his heart would be, a stylized pattern had been embroidered. It was the light blue of the ocean and depicted a fishing rod with a fish hooked on the end. To the top left of the embroidery, a golden sun shone down, beaming its rays toward the fishing rod.
Gary felt his anxiety recede further; the pattern filled him with a sense of deep calm.
His moment of peace lasted less than half a breath.
"So," Barry said. "Shall we vote on how we're going to deal with the blacksmiths?"
B2 | 18 - The Congregation
The night's cold air lingered within the woodworking shop. It was punctuated by the scents of unknown woods and lacquers, a soothing yet unfamiliar mix. A layer of shavings lay scattered over the floor beneath Gary, and he stared down at them, not trusting himself to mask the emotions roiling within him.
The moment Barry had mentioned dealing with the blacksmiths, fear had bloomed, trailed swiftly by a cloying sense of unease. The silence within the room thickened the air, and his stomach churned, twisted.
Barry sighed. "Knowing what they do, we can't let them be."
Gary's eyes flicked up, scanning the surrounding congregation.
What he found made his last flicker of hope die.
He had expected someone to voice their concern, to rail against the condemnation of two innocent men. Instead, acceptance was plastered across the faces of everyone present. Some even nodded, physically declaring their complaisance.
"The only question is," Sharon said, "who is going to do it?"
Despite himself, Gary's head shot toward her. A woman who had always seemed so kind in their meetings, yet she was so easily agreeing to something so heinous. He stared at her, his incredulity overriding the fear of what he'd gotten himself into.
Noticing him, she stared back, tilting her head to the side. "What's wrong?"
Everyone turned to look at him. There were only eight others present, but they may as well have been an entire village for how their gazes made him feel. Beneath the weight of their eyes, something within him snapped: his self preservation faltered, and he stood taller, bracing himself for what was to come.
"I can't go along with this. It's despicable. If you're going to be dealing with innocent villagers, I regret ever agreeing to join you."
He closed his eyes and extended his head. "Please do it quickly."
Seconds that felt like minutes passed by, and he squeezed his eyes tight, knowing the death-blow would come at any moment.
"Gary..." Sharon said. "What do you think Barry meant when he said they had to be dealt with?"
Gary cracked an eye, seeing her head cocked to the side and eyebrows furrowed.
He set his jaw and doubled down. "You intend to kill them, and for what? Knowing information? I can't stand by and be..."
He trailed off as Sharon covered her mouth and her eyes crinkled in... was that amusement? He glanced around the room, seeing faces transform. "What's so funny?"
Sharon's entire body shook, and in the time it took for his resolute defiance to change into sheer incomprehension, the entire room was lost in laughter. The worst were the two woodworkers who leaned on each other for support, and Sharon, who was still cackling like a madwoman.
"Gary..." Barry stepped forward and took a deep breath, banishing his mirth. "We aren't going to hurt them."
Gary opened his mouth to respond, but closed and opened it a few more times before the words came. "You're… you're not?"
"No," Brad replied, wiping a tear from his eye. "We're not."
"What are you going to do, then? What does dealing with someone mean?"
Barry gave him a kind smile. "We're going to ask them to join us, Gary. They've seen Fischer make things and we know they harbor suspicions about his nature—they said as much to Brad and Greg."
The woodworking brothers nodded, and seeing as though Greg was still lost in a fit of silent laughter, Brad spoke.
"We're pretty close. They asked us the other night if Fischer's creations in our shop had transformed. Naturally, we played dumb—"
"I played dumb," Greg corrected. "You were just being yourself."
Brad slapped his brother on the back of the head, which only made Greg's smile spread wider.
"The point being," Brad continued, "that they suspect Fischer, and rather than try to convince them otherwise, we'd like to invite them to join the church. They're good blokes, as Fischer would say."
Barry nodded. "What we meant by dealing with them is how we'll tell them."
"And who will tell them," Sharon added.
Gary blinked at them for a long moment—then he started laughing too. Elation and relief washed away his concerns.
"There's one more thing," Barry said. "I was going to surprise you at the end of the meeting, but I suppose now is as good a time as any."
"Oh?" he said, still chuckling at himself. "What's that?"
"Oh—nothing major." Barry grinned. "I just wanted to know if you were ready to become a cultivator."
***
With the afternoon sun beating down and a strong current sweeping to the north, I placed my last boulder for the day.
As I sat on the ocean floor and waited for the crustaceans to join me, I watched the movement of baitfish. A curious eel even peeked its head out from between rocks as I waited, bringing a smile to my face.
Pistachio lumbered forward first, his streamline body easily hunkering down against the current. He placed his boulder at the end of the line and blew a single, questioning bubble. I pointed to the shore, indicating that we were done for the day. Pistachio nodded and joined me, also watching the fish with curious eyes.
When Rocky and Snips approached, I couldn't help but laugh. A cloud of bubbles escaped my throat, and Rocky spun to glare at me. Snips was on the other side of the boulder they held, pushing it forward. With the force of her and the sweeping ocean behind it, Rocky was stumbling and struggling to keep it upright.
His glare never left me, and I just smiled back at him. Something about the animosity coming from such a cute little crab just tickled me pink.
He and Snips put the boulder down, and seeing me and Pistachio waiting for them, Snips swam over and latched onto my arm. She blew contented bubbles, and I rubbed the top of her head as I strode toward the shore. I held my other hand out, offering for Rocky to join. He crossed his foreclaws and turned away from me, showing me his back as he scuttled from the water.
I hauled myself up to the rocky headland to be greeted by a flock of seagulls. They squawked and crooned at our arrival as those closest to us took flight, landing further away from our position. I couldn't blame them—if I was a bird and a giant lobster crawled from the ocean, I'd probably freak out too.
Not for the first time, I considered feeding one some fish and having it awaken. As with the previous times, I dismissed it almost immediately. I pictured a sapient seagull with the ability to demand chippies, and a shiver ran down my spine.
Talk about annoying...
The seagulls had begun posturing and positioning against one another, some bending down and making a grunting noise as they challenged others for their spot on the rocks. I watched them for a long moment, enjoying their belligerence.
Perhaps because he wanted to assert his dominance, or perhaps because he was just as belligerent, Rocky joined the fray. He scuttled at them with his claws held high and clacking chaotically. He didn't use his explosive ability, so I let him go.
Maybe he won't be so angsty all the time if he burns off some energy...
Snips shook her head at her subordinate, and I lay a reassuring hand atop her head. "He's a handful, huh?"
She nodded gravely and blew bubbles of resignation.
A wind kicked up, and my body shook as it wicked the water from my skin. I walked to my towel and started drying off, never taking my eyes from the battle between the persistent birds and a single angry crab.
By the time I finished drying myself, the seagulls had won the war of attrition.
No matter how many times Rocky chased them down, clacking away with his pincers, the seagulls would just fly five meters away and begin the battle anew. After only a minute or two, power swelled within his claws, but before he could slam his clackers closed and turn the birds into nuggets, Snips attacked. She flew at him, put a claw under his carapace, and launched him out toward the horizon with practiced ease.
"Eeee—" was all Rocky could get out before he was forcefully ejected from hearing range.
"Damn, Snips—that throwing arm of yours is getting better."
She preened, puffing her body up and shimmying in delight at my praise.
The show of strength was enough for the gulls, and they all took flight, letting the southerly wind blow them north. They sailed high over Tropica, heading further beyond the village.
"How long do you think it'll take him to get back?"
She shrugged, clearly not caring.
"Well, it's no matter—I was going to make us some dinner regardless. I suppose we can just save some for him..."
At my mention of dinner, both Snips and Pistachio perked up, so I grinned down at them.
"Would you like fish or sand crab for dinner?"
Ten minutes later, I stood on the river's shore as my animal pals tended the fire
"That was a silly question," I mused. "Of course they'd choose both."
Both of my feet were planted in the cold sand, and I dug them further in. The sun was setting over the western mountains, lending orange and pink pastel hues to the sky. Scattered clouds above were tinged with the colors and as I gazed up at them, a sense of ease settled over me.
I held one finger to the line and waited patiently for a fish to bite.
With my eyes closed, I leaned further into the present moment. The strong wind was whipping up waves, and as they crashed into the headland just to the left of me, water sprayed up and into my legs. I focused on their kiss as they flicked into me, their cool touch the antithesis of the warmth my upper body felt beneath layers of clothing. My sense of ease turned to contentment and I smiled out at the world.
Something bumped my line.
My eyes flew open. They took a moment to focus on the rod before me, and just as they did, the fish took another nibble. I leaned forward and tensed my arms, ready should the fish eat the hook.
Bump.
Bump. Bump.
There was a big tug, but it ended before I could set the hook. I waited, my excitement making patience almost impossible to grasp.
Just as I was starting to think the fish had retreated for good, it returned.
My rod bent down as the fish ate the hook. I lifted the pole just enough to keep tension, and anticipation bubbled up from within. The fish felt big, but nothing so large as to give my improved body and System-enhanced rod any issue. It took small runs to either side, but I reeled it in with ease, never once losing line or my position on the sand.
As the fish came closer to shore, I leaned forward, peering down into the water and trying to catch a glimpse. A flash of silver, then the fish swam down, making one last desperate attempt to get away. I reeled and lifted the rod, and its body became visible once more. Even before I hauled it from the river, I knew what it was, and I smiled down at it.
With a flick of the bamboo pole, the fish was up on the shore.
Mature Cichlid
Uncommon
Found in the fresh and brackish waters of the Kallis Realm, this fish is a staple source of both food and bait.
I bent and grasped the fish in one hand, dispatched it swiftly with the other, then held up the sizable cichlid.
It was short and fat, just larger than Rocky's body. It was equal in size to the biggest I'd caught so far.
I bounced on my heels, unable to stay still. Despite it being tied with my personal best, the fight told me just how much my fishing ability had improved; where before I'd had to let out line and move along the shore to stop the fish from escaping, catching this one had been a walk in the park. I knew I had a quantifiable skill level now, but seeing the improvement from one catch to another was undeniable proof of my progression.
I turned to grab my knife, but jolted back when I saw what stood behind me.
"W-whoa!"
The creature startled at my exclamation and leaned back, but with its eyes locked on my catch, it soon stretched its neck forward again.
"You want my fish, huh?"
The wild animal, completely unaware of what I was saying, merely watched the fish and waited for the chance to steal it.
B2 | 19 - The Alchemist
The magnificent creature stared at me with inhuman eyes in the last hints of daylight peeking over the western mountains.
Its white plumage was accentuated by black feathers on either side of its body. It stretched its wings wide and opened its long beak, revealing the inside of a tan-colored pouch.
The pelican and I blinked at each other as I contemplated the repercussions of giving it some food.
Its gaze strayed back down to the fish I held, and I gave it a rueful smile. "I'm not sure how my friends would feel about me letting you have their dinner..."
The pelican stretched its head and puffed its pouch out, getting closer to the cichlid I held.
"Tell you what—if you can wait a little while, I'll let you have some leftovers. How does that sound?"
A croaking noise came from its throat as it took another step forward, lowering its head.
It snapped its beak at me, and I dodged back, avoiding the sharp point on the end. "Hey! That's not very nice, mate."
A blur of orange came from my left, and the raging form of Rocky scuttled at the pelican, his claws held high and a stream of angry bubbles spewing from his mouth. It took flight, its wings beating heavily as it rose into the air. With a single glance back at the fish, it continued on, flapping toward the river mouth then angling south as it soared along the coastline.
I put my hands on my hips and stared down at the degenerate crab. "That was a dick move, Rocky."
He made a snorting noise—which I wasn't even aware a crab could do—then crossed his claws in defiance.
I recalled Snips having a visceral reaction to the seagulls when she was freshly awakened—perhaps rock crabs and birds were mortal enemies.
"Don't chase the pelican away unless it's in self defense, alright?"
He turned away, ignoring me, so I crouched down and plucked him from the sand. I turned him to face me. "I mean it, mate. I know you're technically Snips's subordinate, and I find your independent nature rather endearing, but if you chase that pelican away again we're gonna have problems."
He squinted his eyes at me.
"And no killing the seagulls," I added. "You can chase them, but no killing anything you don't intend to eat. I won't stand for sociopathic crabs. If you can't agree to that, you can't live here. That means no delicious food and no sharing a pond with your beloved Snips."
He didn't respond for a long moment, but under my steady glare, he eventually agreed with a single affirmative bubble, averting his eyes as he did so.
"Good lad." I let him go and he scuttled sullenly back to the fire. Snips and I locked eyes from where she tended the flames. She gave me a subtle nod, and I returned it.
Rocky caught the interaction, so he spun toward me, giving me a decidedly rude gesture as he scuttled backward.
Snips's arm shot out in a blur.
Crack.
A pair of tongs collided with Rocky and sent him sprawling in the sand. As he lay on his back, unmoving and accepting his fate, his eyes locked onto mine. He gave me the same gesture, but from where Snips couldn't see this time.
I barked a laugh. "Fair play."
***
As I was removing the crab and fish from the grill, a lithe form came tearing across the sand.
Corporal Claws, eyes crinkled in delight and lips spread in a grin, launched herself at me. I dropped the tongs and caught her, spinning to absorb the force. "Claws! We missed you today! Where have you been?"
She chirped her love at me and pointed back at the forest, answering my question.
"With the tree all day? Any news?"
She shook her head, but as she did so, her whiskers twitched forward and stayed there, betraying the truth.
"Nothing, huh?" I asked, hiding my smile. "Well, maybe the food you bring it tonight will garner some results."
She climbed to my shoulder as I bent to grasp the tongs.
"I'll tell you all about our progress on the wall today while we eat dinner."
She nodded vigorously, then nuzzled into my neck, cooing with affection.
***
In a room filled with acrid smoke and the smell of sulfur, a lone man toiled.
He had long ago become accustomed to the scents, and though his throat still stung when breathing in the byproducts of his research, it was a small price to pay for immortality.
The alchemist focused on his cauldron as he smothered the flames beneath it. Today, he was seeing if the removal of heat impacted his concoction, and he watched the thick sludge as he swirled it around his pot.
This is the potion, he thought to himself. This is the one that will break me past the barrier and allow me to take steps toward the path of ascension.
For years he had hidden away in this coastal town, assigned the outpost by the leaders of the Cult of the Alchemist. Where some would take it as a slight to be sent to such a distant area, Solomon saw it in a different light: being sent to a coastal town afforded him all manner of exotic ingredients to experiment with.
For hundreds if not thousands of years, his forebears had tried and failed to reach immortality with the usual fare: common herbs; animal products, some from farmed animals, some harvested from the wild; and the local ingredients that could be found in the market of any large village. Having alchemists work to attain their goals in coastal villages was a relatively new assignment—a sign of what some members had called desperation.
"Call it what you like, fools. When I become the Alchemist, they'll know the truth." His voice was raspy even to his own ears, but that was just a sign of his devotion to his craft.
He chuckled as he continued stirring, watching the mixture intently for any changes. His dry chuckle turned into a racking cough as he leaned in too close and inhaled some of the acidic vapors wafting from his concoction.
He choked and sputtered and his eyes welled with tears, but the smile never left his face.
***
With my mouth watering, I cracked the claw of a sand crab. The smell of its sweet juices joined that of the herb-laced butter I'd coated it in, and a deep contentment washed over me.
All around me, my animal pals were crunching down on their food, and I couldn't help but smile at the symphony of what most would probably consider to be repulsive sounds.
To me, they were pure bliss.
I bit down into the crab's soft flesh, delighting in the flavors that danced over my tongue. I'd tried not cracking the crab shells before tossing them in the buttery mixture this time, intent on seeing if trapping the juices in changed the flavor profile at all—it did. The sweet liquids trapped within the shell mingled in my mouth rather than in the pot, providing an entirely new experience.
A soft mmm escaped my throat, but my enjoyment was interrupted when someone cleared their throat behind me.
"I'm not too late, am I?" Maria approached with the fuzzy form of Cinnamon cradled in her arms.
Quickly swallowing my food, I patted the sand beside me. "I wasn't sure you'd come tonight, but I saved dinner for you just in case."
As she settled on the floor, I went to the fire and made up a plate of food. When I placed it on the sand before her, Maria's eyes lit up.
"This is just what I needed after working the fields all day."
I watched her as she lifted the plate. Steam rose from the food, visible by the light of the fire. She inhaled through her nose, breathing deep of the scents, and a smile slowly spread over her face. "This smells wonderful, Fischer."
I returned the smile. "Wait until you taste it."
She cracked a claw and raised it to her mouth. As she bit down, her shoulders dropped and she let out sigh.
"Good?" I asked.
She chewed slowly, not rushing the mouthful. "Amazing," she eventually replied. She gave me a warm smile then took another bite.
That night, despite a day spent doing physical labor, I found myself unable to sleep.
Cinnamon was snoring softly beside me, and I petted her head with one hand as the other drifted toward my lips. My heart thumped in my chest as I replayed the kiss Maria had given me before departing. Though thinking of her made my blood pound, she wasn't the source of my sleeplessness.
Well, not the only source, anyway.
I'd started the rock wall with the intention of banishing my churning thoughts, and, thankfully, it had worked, but it wasn't that I was overthinking—I felt as though I'd just had five double-shots of espresso from Sue's bakery.
Maybe I need to cut back on the caffeine? I thought. I haven't been drinking that much, though...
Abruptly, I sat up, feeling as though I needed to burn some energy. Not knowing why, I flung the door to my wardrobe open, and something caught my attention. There was a glow coming from the back of the closet, and I bent down, my eyebrows furrowing as I cast aside shirts and other bits of clothing.
I found a familiar chest back there, but as the layers of material had been removed, the glow dissipated entirely.
"Was I imagining it...?"
I'd long ago hidden the chest in my room, but hadn't given it much thought since then. Not wanting to make any noise and wake Cinnamon, I picked it up and took it to the living room.
The night air was cool beyond my bedroom, and the ethereal moonlight shining in through my glass windows seemed to add a layer of frost to everything it touched. I set the chest down and sat before it.
An overwhelming amount of wealth lay within when I opened it. The moonlight reflected off pearls and silver, giving the assorted jewelry an enchanting appearance. One ring in particular stood out, and I picked it up, lifting it so it shone beneath the moon. It was the one I'd made with the help of Fergus, and it drew my eyes in.
Iridescent Ring of Silver
Rare
A ring of precious metal, adorned by one of the most sought-after stones found in the Kallis Realm. More than just a symbol of wealth, this ring has a multitude of purposes for those with the requisite knowledge.
I slid the ring on one finger, taking comfort in its cool touch.
Returning my attention to the chest, I lifted a small pouch from within and opened it. I removed a gold coin from inside and held it up to the light. On one side, an unfamiliar face stared back at me, and on the other, the image of a scythe was raised in gold. There were twenty-six coins in total, only one of which was a remnant of the coins I'd received when arriving in this strange world. The rest had appeared from nowhere when I created the freshwater pond Claws now called home; the System had seen fit to generate them for a reason entirely unknown to me.
I recalled how wishing for and imagining a home had resulted in my house being built, and an idea struck me. Focusing on the pile of coins before me, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. With my legs crossed, spine upright, and palms facing up, I settled into the stereotypical meditative pose from earth.
Trying to replicate what I'd done when accidentally building a home, I imagined what I wanted to create. I immediately hit a wall; I had no idea what I wanted. I had more friends than I could count, my own oceanfront land, and all the time in the world to spend fishing. I cocked my head to the side, unable to sit still as I searched for what more I could possibly need.
All I want is to protect what I already have, I decided.
With this realization, my core seemed to vibrate. A tendril of power shot out from my abdomen, seeking... something. I let it go, focusing on the sensations of my body and the desire to protect the life I'd found here in Tropica.
The tendril extended further out, and I jolted as it made contact with something.
It paused for but a moment, then started pouring power into the connection.
B2 | 20 - Refuge
Barry woke to a strange sensation. Something was tugging at his core, and he sat up slowly, rubbing bleary eyes.
The moon shone down through the thin curtains of his bedroom. Helen murmured softly, so he reached over and smoothed her hair, willing her to not wake.
The tugging in his core became more insistent, so he climbed from his bed and shuffled through the open door from his bedroom. He closed it behind himself and went to the kitchen, hoping to find a drink of water. The urn was empty, so he made his way out into the still and cold night air.
The moon lit the landscape, shining down its white light on everything he could see. The sugarcane crop directly to the west was only half-grown, allowing him to see far into the distance until an older crop grew high. He smiled at the vista's layered beauty.
His steps felt more sure as he went to the well and lowered a bucket. He pulled it up and splashed his face before taking a drink, willing whatever was happening within him to dissipate.
***
I cracked an eye as something interrupted my meditation.
There was a tug at my awareness, as if my core was being pulled to the northwest. It was almost… pleasant, and I cocked my head at the indescribable sensation.
I glanced around with a furrowed brow but saw nothing that would explain it. As I looked about, I started losing my connection to that which coaxed me on, so I closed my eyes and settled back within myself.
Taking a steady breath, I poured every ounce of my attention into whatever the connection was, trusting my instincts to not lead me astray.
***
Barry held his breath, hoping whatever this episode was would pass. Instead, the pressure increased and twisted. He doubled over, his knees driving into the earth. He struggled to keep himself upright, struggled to breathe, and the force only grew stronger.
Though his body was suppressed, his thoughts raced. Whatever this was, he had to overcome it. There was so much he had yet to do, so many things he had to accomplish—both for himself, his family, and the world at large.
He reached within and held onto those ideals for dear life. Part of the pressure receded, so he delved further into his desires.
A religion that the world had not seen for millennia. The ascension of a god, one that truly held love for the humans of Kallis. His next project had been a church. A physical building that declared their intent—that screamed it at the very heavens.
The only reason he hadn't started the construction was because he hadn't found a suitable location, somewhere he could build a structure that was still hidden from sight. He now regretted not doing so sooner; he may not live to see the sunrise.
At this thought, the thing tugging on his core seemed to find purchase and snap into place.
And the next thing Barry knew was pain.
***
All at once, the power coursed through me.
As something in the connection shifted, the world became blinding. A light brighter than the sun bloomed from the treasure-filled chest; the golden rays flowed into me, then were thrust along the pathway stemming from my core
I gritted my teeth, struggling to stay upright as my vision waned. Though I wasn't aware how, I knew I had to stay conscious for whatever was happening to work. The blinding light slowly faded, as did the power pumping through me. With shaky breaths and trembling arms, I leaned against the wooden floor, just barely stopping myself from slumping over.
"Just... a little... more..."
***
Barry's abdomen felt like it was smoldering from within as power beyond his control rushed through him. He focused on what he wanted, somehow knowing that to be his only chance.
A building... for worship...
He clenched his jaw against the white-hot agony.
Hidden. Unseen. Grand.
He braced his core against the onslaught threatening to fold him in two.
A refuge for the congregation...
The searing pain began to dull, as did the torrent flowing through him. It became more manageable by the second, but before it could fade away entirely, a bone-deep weariness washed over him.
No... he thought. I need to stay awake.
His vision started to fade.
... just... a little... more...
Beneath the ethereal light of the moon, trembling on all fours and desperate to stay conscious, Barry failed.
The dark of night took him.
***
The golden hues bled from the room, slowly fading as the ocean of power flowing through me turned into a river. The river became a stream, and the steam became a trickle. Before I knew it, there was nothing left.
As the power fled me, so too did my strength. I tried to lower myself to the floor, but my arms failed me. I fell before the now-dull chest.
I… I did it...
With a sigh of relief and a half-formed smile, I let sleep take me.
***
"Barry!"
Someone was shaking Barry's shoulder, and he groaned, willing them to leave him alone.
"Barry, please—please wake up!"
He recognized the voice. It was Helen.
"Stop..." he slurred with a mouth that felt full of cotton. "I'm fine, just... tired..."
"Thank the gods." She lay atop him, her body trembling. "I thought I'd lost you. What happened, Barry?"
Barry slowly came back to himself, and he registered that Helen's voice was frantic.
Why? he wondered. I just need some sleep…
But then, all at once, he recalled what had happened. A spike of adrenaline shot through him.
He rolled over to his back with a groan, opening bleary eyes to stare up. The moon was high in the sky; hours had passed since he'd passed out… since he'd failed.
He shifted again and made to stand, and Helen helped him, lifting him easily now that she, too, was a cultivator. She slung his arm around her shoulder, turned to help him inside, then paused.
"W... what...?" she asked.
"What's wrong?"
She didn't respond for a long moment, merely stared to their right. With great effort, Barry turned his head to see what she was looking at... and then he understood.
"When did you build a new shed?" she asked, gaping at the ornate bricks where their wooden shed had previously been.
"I didn't..."
They stared at each other wide-eyed, and without another word, turned and made their way toward the building. Barry's steps were shuffling, but Helen held him upright. When they got to it, he let go to lean on the wall.
The stones were cool to the touch, their surface smooth and uniform.
"What kind of stones are these?" Helen asked, her voice filled with awe.
"I have no idea. I've never seen anything like it…"
The stones were carved into perfect bricks, and unlike those comprising most of the buildings in Tropica, they weren't porous riverstone. Barry raised an eyebrow as he leaned closer to inspect the gaps between them—if they were held together by mortar, he couldn't see any. He reached his left hand out to touch the door. It was made of dark wood and had intricate swirls of banded metal around every edge.
Helen stepped around him and grabbed its handle, then pulled. The door swung open on silent hinges, and as the metal coverings glinted in the moonlight, she inhaled sharply. "Is that…?"
"Gold," Barry answered. "It's covered in gold."
He leaned against the entrance and peered inside. All of his equipment and tools were still there, set atop a raised bench that ran around the room. Right in the center, descending into the earth below, was a stairwell.
Barry ambled forward and Helen grabbed his arm, helping him approach. The stairs stretched down, obscured by shadow. They stood there for a long moment, both lost in thought.
"Do you want to rest before we explore?" Helen asked, rubbing his shoulder. "It'll still be here in the morning..."
He glanced at her and, seeing the unmistakable glint of curiosity in her eye, forced a grin.
"Let's get a torch..."
***
As I cracked an eye, a thumping headache made itself known.
My mouth was dry and tasted like I'd been drinking Barry's rum all night, so I rolled over and slowly climbed to my feet. With ambling steps, I made my way to the kitchen and bent down, drinking straight from the tap. I drank until I needed to take a breath, then drank just as much again.
Wiping my mouth and rubbing my eyes, I stumbled back toward the chest. I picked up the empty bag beside it.
The coins were gone.
"Yeah, that checks out..." I groaned.
I trailed off, my eyes going as wide as my throbbing headache would allow. I knelt down, looking directly at the contents of the chest. The jewelry was still there and the precious metals that served as their foundation were untouched. Each piece had been worth a fortune to a commoner, given they were inset with illustrious pearls.
... Were.
I shuffled the jewelry around, confirming my suspicions. Every single pearl had disappeared, leaving behind empty sockets and indents in the pieces of silver and gold they'd once adorned.
"Well ain't that something..."
I held up my right hand, peering at the Iridescent Ring of Silver on my index finger. The pearl was still there, and when I inspected it, it remained intact.
I sat down heavily and covered my eyes, willing my headache to recede so I could properly think. The door to my bedroom clicked open, and a moment later, the fuzzy form of Cinnamon crawled over my knee and curled up in my lap. I stroked her head with one hand as the other covered my eyes, blocking out the building light of day.
She made a questioning peep, and I peered down at her. Her neck was extended, and she gazed down at the empty-socketed jewelry I'd dropped on the ground before me.
She turned to stare at me with an intelligent gleam.
I bobbed my head in a nod as slow as I could, trying not to aggravate my already pounding head. "Something downright fracky happened last night, Cinnamon, and I'm pretty sure I know where I need to go to find out what it was."
She cocked her head, and I let out a sigh as I slowly stood, holding her in my arms. She leaned into me, so I held her tight.
"Alright—let's go."
***
I knocked on the door softly; my headache was thankfully receding, but was very much still present.
The door opened, and Helen looked up at me with tired eyes.
"Oh—morning, Fischer."
"Hey, Helen. Is Barry about?"
"Oh, uhhh, he's a bit busy this morning, but he should be back later..."
I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "It's fine, Helen. I know something happened last night—I felt the power coming this—" My brain seemed to thump against my skull, and I winced. "It doesn't matter. I just really need to talk to Barry."
"Are you sure, Fischer?" She gave me a look my pounding head couldn't properly parse. "I know you didn't want to be involved..."
"It's fine. My head hurts too much for me to care right now."
She chewed her lip for a long moment, then gave a single nod. "He's around back."
She led me through their home and I stepped out the back door. Barry was hammering away at his shed, which confused me for a moment, but then my eyes adjusted to the growing daylight.
Where his shed had been, a stone building was now erected. Barry was adding a wooden facade to obscure the shed's transformation. In the side facing toward his well, a wooden door was set in the stone. Its edges were accented with intricate golden swirls, and confusion warred with my overwhelming headache.
A shed?
All those coins… All those pearls…
For a shed?
It made little sense, but before I could think about it any longer, the door swung open. Ruby strode out wearing a black robe and drying her hair with a towel. The robe had a pattern embroidered atop her heart: in blue, a rod with a fish on the end of the line; in gold, the sun shining down its brilliant rays.
"Hygieia's smooth skin, those showers are amazing!" she said.
"The pressure is amazing, isn't it?" Barry asked, reaching up to hammer in another plank.
She let out a contented sigh, started winding the towel around her head, then glanced up.
We locked eyes, and she froze. With the stunned look of a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar, she made not a move.
I blinked; she blinked.
I narrowed my eyes; her eyebrows rose.
She took a step backward, then another. She slowly disappeared from sight, and the door made a soft click as she closed it, sealing herself inside the building.
Barry bent down to grab another plank of wood.
"We just need to hide this shed before Fischer just happens to stroll along—that'd be just my luck."
Helen cleared her throat from behind me. "Uhhh, dear?"
"Yes, honey?" he asked, glancing up. "What's—"
Barry and I locked eyes, and he, too, froze. His shoulders almost immediately slumped in defeat. "Frack me..."
B2 | 21 - Exploration
The midmorning sun beamed down from above. I held a hand to my forehead, shielding my eyes. A sparse cloud drifted before the light, providing a modicum of relief. A soft breeze blew across the fields and the sugarcane leaves rustled and shifted around us, highlighting the silence that stretched between Barry, Helen, and me.
"So..." I said, drawing the word out. "New building, huh?"
Barry sighed. "How did you know?"
As I went to answer, the cloud partially shielding the sun was swept away, and I squeezed my eyes shut.
"Is there somewhere we can talk inside?" I gestured at the ornate door. "I have a splitting headache and it's bright as hell out here."
"Are you sure you want to see...?"
"If it means we can get out of the sun? Yeah."
"All right." Barry turned to Helen. "Would you mind taking Fischer down? I'll just finish concealing the outside, then come join you."
"You two go ahead," she replied. "I'll finish up out here."
"You're sure?"
She arched an eyebrow, giving him a dangerous look. "Are you implying I can't do it as well as you, dear?"
Wisely, Barry hopped off the ladder and put down his hammer. "Thank you, my love."
She nodded and rolled up her sleeves, and Barry led me to the door. It swung outward, and as we stepped inside, I gave Ruby a polite nod. "Mornin'."
She stood wide-eyed against a wall, her still-wet hair bound in a towel. "Er—good, uh... morning?"
As Barry closed the door behind me, the light of day was blessedly banished. A soft orange glow suffused the chamber, climbing up from a stairwell that led down into the depths of the earth.
"There's a place for us to sit downstairs," Barry said, giving Ruby a wincing smile in passing.
I gave her a little wave. "See ya later."
She raised her hand haltingly. "Yeah... later..."
As we walked down the stairs made of the same smooth brick, a soft orange glow came from sconces set in the wall. I stopped at one, cocking my head at the small flame inside. It burned behind a shield of glass, and there was no wick or coil from which the fire could be fueled. I leaned in closer and spotted a tiny hole in the stone brick beneath the flame.
Gas? I wondered. Or some sort of magical Xianxia land tomfoolery?
"Barry...?"
"No idea," he answered. "They lit by themselves when I first came down and seem to turn off when someone hasn't passed in a while."
"And they turn back on when someone approaches again?"
"Just so."
"Huh. Neat."
Step after step, we made our way further down. I expected it to get colder as we went, but the air remained pleasantly warm. We reached a flat section of floor, and a long, spacious hallway met us. It stretched out an impressive distance and had open doorways intermittently placed on either wall.
"So," Barry said, looking down the hallway and avoiding my eyes. "How did you know...?"
"I felt the power coming in this direction, so I had a hunch it was you."
"Oh..." He slowly turned to me. "It came from you...?"
"By 'it', do you mean that ungodly amount of essence or whatever that came your way? Yeah, mate. My bad on that one. I Hope it wasn't too much."
He barked a laugh, and some of his weariness disappeared. "It was entirely too much. But hey, look at the result." He breathed deep, then let out a slow breath. "How did you do it?"
"Did I ever tell you how I made my house?"
"No."
I opened my mouth to tell him, but then I looked into the first room.
A colossal round table made of what appeared to be a single piece of timber took up most of the space. Dozens of chairs surrounded it, and at the far end of the room, seven eyes went wide as they saw me: with her gaze locked on me, Sharon started rolling up a giant parchment she had been animatedly gesturing at. Private Pistachio nodded in greeting, his stoic features revealing nothing. Sergeant Snips slowly lowered from sight, her eye wide as it retreated from view. Rocky stared at me with a hint of accusation, daring me to say something, but then Snips's claw shot up and dragged him from sight.
The sound of something hard smacking carapace rang out through the room, and Rocky let out a very feminine squeak.
We walked past the doorway, and I shook my head in amusement. I turned to Barry and started telling him all about my accidental house creation, sparing no detail. Barry's forehead grew more and more lined as I spoke.
"Gold coins with a scythe and a face? Never heard of anything like it. Do you have any more?"
"Er... I did?" I gave him a rueful smile. "They were all consumed in building this place."
"If you pictured a house and it built itself, what did you imagine last night?"
"Uh, that's a little less straightforward. I couldn't sleep, so I tried meditating on the coins. I realized I already had everything I needed, so I focused on protecting what I had."
"Protecting what you had..." Barry repeated, tasting the words. "And it sent the power my way..."
We strode onward, and I glanced into a room with a...
You have got to be kidding me.
Steam rose from a pool that took up most of the room. There was an underground hot spring, complete with a trickling waterfall and shower cubicles on the far wall. Boulders protruded from the water's surface sporadically. I glimpsed a familiar shower head through one of the open doors, which was presumably where Ruby had come from.
Just when did they recruit her? I thought. I wonder if they also got Steven…
My thoughts trailed off as I noticed someone in the pool.
In the center of the hotspring, with his arms held out to his sides, the man in question let out a happy sigh. Steven opened his eyes and peered out at the world with a half-lidded gaze and a ridiculously relaxed smile on his face.
It disappeared the moment he caught sight of me.
His entire body went rigid and everything but his head dipped below the water's surface. He slowly shifted, making his way around a boulder and disappearing behind it, never once taking his eyes off me.
Having missed the show, Barry was still gazing into the distance and walking along, so I jogged to catch up, laughing under my breath. "What happened on your end last night?"
He shook his head as his eyes cleared. "I was woken up by something tugging on my core—the power you were channeling my way, from what it sounds like. I went to the well to get a drink and the weight of your will folded me like a croissant."
"Oh…."
"It's fine. I started thinking about all the things I had yet to do, and when I pictured creating a church for the.... uh..."
He shot a look at me, and I sighed. "It's fine, mate. I already know about the culty churchy shenanigans you've got going on. So you thought about building... what? A place for your heresy?"
I shot him a wink, and he gave me a small smile. "That pretty much sums it up, yeah. I wanted to create something hidden for everyone."
"So I wanted to protect the life I've carved out for myself here, and the System recognized that what you're doing would do so. That's... kind of a big deal."
He grinned, and for the first time that morning, he looked as carefree as usual. "Agreed."
I ran my hand along the stones as we walked on. They were cool and smooth, and as we approached a door, they grew even colder. I poked my head around the doorway, curious as to what I'd find.
A humid breeze blew out from an underground forest. The room was the biggest yet in both width and height, and saplings of different varieties sprouted up sporadically from the lush green grass covering the floor. In the center of the room sat the only mature tree, its trunk wider than any I'd seen in this world. Great roots extended down into the ground in every direction, and the tree's bark was the deepest brown imaginable. It reminded me of the giant fig trees you'd so often see growing in the subtropical climate of Australia.
I gazed up at the roof as I stepped into the room; golden light beamed down from tiles set in the ceiling high above, so bright that they were hard to look at.
"That's… wow."
"That's not even half of it, Fischer. This place..." Barry knelt down next to one of the saplings and touched its bark. "It's already astounding, and I don't think any of us are even close to understanding the whole of it yet."
"Does that mean you don't know the purpose of this tree room yet?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"
I grinned. "No bloody clue, mate."
"That makes two of us," he replied, laughing.
I gazed down at the different saplings as we strode toward the tree in the middle of the room, and the air grew cooler with each step forward. I hadn't properly appreciated the tree's majesty from afar, but a sense of awe was inescapable when standing at its base. I reached out with one hand, pressed my palm against its smooth bark, and took a deep breath. The air smelled sweet, and I got the impression it was filled with life.
"How many more secrets are hidden down here, Barry?"
He didn't respond, so I turned to look at him. His lips were pressed into a firm line, and they shifted as he considered something, his eyebrows furrowed.
I cocked my head. "... mate?"
His eyes snapped up, his gaze firm. "Do you trust me, Fischer?"
I didn't have to think about it long. "I do."
He slowly nodded, his eyes unfocusing as he thought on what to say next. "I don't think you should go further in."
My head rocked back. "Can't lie, mate—I didn't expect that. There's stuff I wouldn't want to see?"
"Just that. I know how much you value your peaceful life here, and I respect that. I don't want to introduce any unnecessary worries."
I tongued my cheek as I considered for a long moment. "Is it something that puts anyone in danger?"
His lips pursed, then he smiled. "No one is in danger, no."
One side of my mouth curled up as I looked at him and fought down an undeniable sense of curiosity. I swept it aside.
"Okay, mate. I trust you. If you think it's for the best, we can end our little tour here."
"Thank you, Fischer."
"Nah. Thank you, mate. I appreciate everything you're doing here to keep everyone safe." The last hints of my headache were finally receding, and I stretched high as I stood from where I knelt by the tree. "Seeing as though my tour is over, I think I'll go mess with Snips a little bit before I leave—she's entirely too cute when she's guilty."
Barry let out a soft chuckle. "I'm guessing they'll have retreated by now, but you're more than welcome to try."
"Oh, one more thing, Barry."
"Yeah?"
"You should start collecting pearls."
"... Pearls?"
"Yeah, mate. Pearls."
Barry stopped walking and he shot me a confused look. "What the frack are pearls?"
"Oh! My bad. You guys call them iridescent stones."
Barry's confusion turned to incredulity. "Where on Kallis would I get iridescent stones?"
"You should ask Snips and Claws about that."
"Okay… but why are we collecting them?"
"Because they function the same as those strange golden coins. Whatever we did last night consumed dozens of pearls I had stashed away."
"... You had dozens of iridescent stones?"
"Yeah, something like that. But that's not important." I waved my hands dismissively, delighting in the look on Barry's face. "What's important, mate, is that you get more."
***
In a room made of smooth bricks, Trent, the first in line to the throne of Gormona—and not at all resembling a toe by his estimate—sniffed. "I suppose it's a little better."
Leroy gave him a flat stare. "A little better?"
"That's right."
Leroy glanced around at the room's features. A shower and a toilet, both of which had running water. A gigantic bed that was comfier than any Leroy had ever felt before. Space and equipment for exercise. And even a small garden with one of those golden tiles that the room two doors down was with.
"You know, Trent, I think I hate you."
Trent crossed his arms like a petulant child. "You dare say such things to the crown prince of your kingdom?"
Leroy sighed. "Yeah, I definitely hate you."
"Pah!" Trent threw up his hands. "How am I supposed to be happy about being thrown into another prison?"
Leroy looked at the door and the black metal bars blocking the escape, then turned back to the idiot. "You were locked in the last room too, but there you had to pee in a bucket."
"The bucket doubled as a drum, and without it, you've removed my only source of fun."
"You're saying you'd be happier here if I got your pee bucket back?"
"It's a percussive instrument, cultivator scum—not a pee bucket."
Before Leroy could hit him back with some snark, a beautiful form entered the door beyond the bars of Trent's prison cell. Barbara.
"I've brought lunch."
Leroy smiled at his wife.
"Finally!" Trent said, perking up. "There better be something sweet this time." He snapped his fingers at Leroy. "Fetch it for me, cultivator."
Leroy gave him a sickly sweet grin. "Gladly, prince."
Trent's toe-like face became even more detestable as he frowned at Leroy, clearly not expecting the polite response.
Leroy reached the bars, and Barbara passed him a plate with a croissant and dollop of jam, and a cup filled almost to the brim. He strode to Trent, set them on the ground, then made his way back to the bars.
"Before you get any ideas..." Leroy's arm muscles bulged, and he swung with all his power at the black metal. The room reverberated with the strike, yet the bars held firm.
Trent's eyes went wide and he gulped
Leroy smirked. "There's no chance of escape. You may as well get comfy down here."
Trent's fear was swiftly hidden behind a strained smile, and he sat down before his food. "Wait..." he looked down at the cup. "Why in Demeter's busty chest is this water green, cultivator?"
He sniffed the contents, then took a tentative sip with raised eyebrows. As the flavor hit his tongue, he let out an appreciative mmm.
"That isn't water," Leroy answered. "It's sugarcane juice."
"It's... it's delicious!" Trent said, then started sculling the sweet liquid.
Leroy shot a look at Barbara, and both their faces crinkled in shared amusement.
B2 | 22 - New Beginnings
It was a pleasantly cool day in Tropica—until a heat like that of the sun bloomed.
Fergus squinted and leaned back from the forge's glow as he threw another shovel of coal into the hearth. He stepped to the side, wiping sweat from his brow with a burly forearm. "Ready, Duncan?"
"Aye!" his apprentice responded and started placing lengths of iron into a crucible.
Fergus watched carefully as Duncan added pinches of phosphorus and sulfur; there was a hint of hesitation in his movements.
"You've got this." Fergus gave him a reassuring smile. "It's the same as any other alloy."
Duncan's hand froze, and he looked up, his gaze wavering. "You're sure? I don't want to ruin—"
"When was the last time you ruined anything in this smithy?" Fergus interrupted.
"I, uh... I can't remember."
"Neither can I. Besides, you thinking you're not ready is calling into question my superior and flawless judgment." Fergus shot him a wink. "That's a paddlin'."
Duncan's uncertainty melted away, replaced by a flat stare. "Just you try to paddle me."
Roaring with laughter, Fergus clapped his apprentice on the shoulder. "Just kidding, lad. You're ready, all right? Let's do it."
Duncan set his jaw and nodded, so Fergus took up position by the bellows. As the apprentice put his goggles and thick gloves on, Fergus moved the bellows' slowly, causing the added coal to glow red at the edges. When Duncan strode to the forge with the crucible held in a set of large tongs, his steps were sure and filled with purpose. He extended the crucible into the furnace, and Fergus began working the bellows in earnest.
Less than an hour later, a thin sheen of sweat covered Fergus's body as he watched Duncan pour the molten metal into the molds they had prepared. The liquid was bright yellow and of uniform viscosity.
The alloy's creation had been a success.
Fergus said not a word, intent on watching the process. During the years he had been teaching Duncan the art of blacksmithing, he had slowly but surely grown to see the boy like a son.
No, not a boy, he reminded himself, looking over Duncan's muscled arms.
He had been a boy when he first came to his smithy, but now he was a man—and a blacksmith—in his own right. The waif of a boy that had shown up in his workshop was now a distant memory, and a smile came to Fergus's face as he compared the bull of a man before him to the bag of bones that first walked in the door all those years ago.
The last dregs on the molten metal dribbled down in the final mold, and Duncan breathed a sigh of relief as he set the tongs and crucible down.
"Perfect, lad," Gerfus said.
"You're not just saying that?"
Fergus snorted, and so did the bunny.
Wait, what?
The smith's head darted to the side; a bunny had joined them on the bench and was peering down at the molds.
It looked up at them and nodded a greeting.
"Uhhh," both men said, the sound dragging out as their brains tried to comprehend what was going on.
The bunny cocked its head, causing its ears to flop to the side. It hopped to the first mold, tapped it lightly with one paw, then bobbed her head up and down in approval.
"Hello?" came a voice from behind them, and Fergus whirled.
Sharon, with a large bag slung over one shoulder, smiled and waved.
"Hi, guys. I was hoping I could talk to you for a..." She trailed off as she saw the bunny sitting on the bench. "Cinnamon! What in Hades's cursed realm are you doing?"
Fergus glanced back at the bunny. The creature, Cinnamon, seemed to shimmy in delight, her little tail wiggling away. There was a blur of brown and blue, and another creature appeared behind the bunny. An otter, shaking her head and chirping indignantly, put one forepaw around Cinnamon's waist and covered the bunny's mouth with another.
The fuzzy little bunny let the otter drag her down from the bench, shaking in what appeared to be laughter as muffled peeps escaped her throat.
Sharon let out a heavy sigh. "Well, so much for the plan."
Sharon closed and barred the door, and from the bag slung over her shoulder, something horrific emerged. A crab the size of a small dog poked its entire body out and began shaking a claw menacingly at them, blowing a steady stream of bubbles. Something smacked the crab from below, making it fly up into the rafters at terrifying speed. Another crab emerged from the bag, wearing an eyepatch and covered in spikes.
There was a loud crack, and the first crab fell down to the smithy floor, as did something else.
An object of monstrous proportions slammed into the ground with a loud thud. A wave of dust sprang up from the collision, and as it slowly cleared, Fergus realized his mistake. It wasn't an object that had fallen—it was a creature.
A lobster as long as he was tall stared up at him from its back, unblinking.
Other than the eyepatch-wearing crab that was hissing and berating the crab it had flung—and was once more shaking a claw at the smiths—the entire room froze. The silence was broken when Sharon let out another sigh. She rubbed her temples and shook her head. "Well, that couldn't have gone any worse—"
From the corner of Fergus's eye, he saw the bunny break free from the otter's grasp and launch across the room. It slammed into the upside-down lobster and kicked off his side, flipping the crustacean right-side up and throwing itself skyward. As its body rotated in the air, there was an unmistakable grin on the bunny's face.
The otter, chirping at the top of her lungs and trailing lightning, slammed into Cinnamon. They sailed across the room into a stack of metal-filled crates, obliterating them in a cloud of splintered wood, metal bars, and furred limbs.
Fergus raised an eyebrow as he slowly turned back to Sharon. She blinked at the carnage, spun to meet his gaze, and shrugged.
"Fergus and Duncan, meet Fischer's ascendant animal friends. As you can see from their behavior, they're clearly his. Everyone, this is Fergus and Duncan."
"Ascendent creatures...?" Duncan asked, sounding as numb as Fergus felt. "Does that mean…?"
The pieces of the puzzle slammed into place, and Fergus's eyes went wide. "I knew it!" He slapped Duncan lightly on the chest. "I told you Fischer was a cultivator!"
His apprentice looked around the room with his jaw hanging open. He swallowed. "I don't think that's the issue at hand, Fergus..."
"It's not so dire as it appears," Sharon said, sweeping hair behind her ear and giving them what was likely intended to be a reassuring smile.
"Let me explain..."
***
With the midday sun beating down on my skin, my steps were surprisingly light given the events of the last twenty-four hours.
I took a bite of my freshly warmed croissant and washed it down with a mouthful of coffee. I closed my eyes and focused on the soft breeze tickling the hair of my arms. As I walked over the sand, my thoughts roiled with implications and worries about the future. Rather than push them away and pretend they didn't exist, I acknowledged them, allowed my anxiety to swell, then let the thoughts go as I refocused on the sensations of my body.
I narrowed my attention on each step, feeling the shifting sand beneath my feet. The wind picked up, wicking away sweat and causing grains of sand to strike my lower legs. A sense of calm replaced my anxieties, and I shielded my eyes with one hand as I peered down at the saltwater pond. No one was home, but that was to be expected—I imagined my pals might be a little busy for the next few days after an underground base appeared out of nowhere.
I chuckled and shook my head, continuing toward the coast.
When I arrived, I took a moment to sit in the dry sand and gaze out at the water. Small waves lapped the shore, and the bay was calm all the way out to the horizon.
I took a deep breath; the salt spray on the air seemed to suffuse my entire being.
Unbidden, a smile came to my face, and my eyes unfocused, my entire visual field becoming a single sheet of light, shadow, and color. The joy spread to encompass my entire face, and I stretched as I got to my feet. "All right. Time for a little harvesting."
I took off my outer clothes and, after one more good stretch, walked into the small waves peppering the shoreline.
The water was pleasantly cool, and the moment I got up to my knees, I collapsed beneath it. As I sprang back up, a whole-body shiver took me, and I walked further out into the ocean. When I could no longer walk, I swam, and I reached my destination in no time at all. Large wooden poles marked the spot, and as I caught sight of the cages strung between them, I couldn't believe my eyes.
The oyster cages were one of the first things I constructed after coming to Tropica. I'd created them for two reasons: replenishing the oyster population a certain otter was decimating, and, more importantly, pearls. At the time, I'd thought pearls were a source of gold, but as it turned out, they were much, much more valuable than that.
I hadn't checked the cages because, well, what was the point?
We had plenty of food, I didn't want or need more gold, and I thought they'd take a fair while to grow. My understanding was that oysters took years to reach maturity.
My understanding was wrong.
All six cages strung up before me were filled to the brim with massive oysters. I yelled excitedly underwater, and it came out in a garbled stream of bubbles.
I started untying the first cage, picturing the look on my animal pal's faces when I presented them with an entire cage of freshly shucked oysters.
***
Number Three breathed deep of the afternoon air, delighting in the humidity and scents of the forest.
The sun was setting behind them, and as he looked at the surrounding faces, he saw similar looks of contentment. As much as their personalities could clash at times, they were unified in their mission, and being so close to their destination had picked up their moods greatly.
Even Two, whose patience had become shorter with each passing day—and each time someone slipped up and didn't use a codename—sat with a small smile on his face, bathing in the afternoon sun.
Three couldn't help himself. "You look almost serene, Keith."
Two, the human formerly known as Keith, sputtered with indignation. "Number Two!" he boomed, glancing at the surrounding trees. "My name is Two!"
By his estimate, Three did a fantastic job of hiding his amusement behind the appropriate amount of chagrin, but then Four burst into laughter and he couldn't help but join in. Five joined in soon after, and even One, who was engrossed in one of his large tomes, arched an amused eyebrow over his book.
Two's face went beet red, and he rounded on their expedition leader. "You too, One? I thought you were above their childish games!"
"Normally I would err on the side of caution, but I believe I recognize the mountain we are about to crest."
"So?" Two demanded, his fury still hot. "What does that have to do with anything?"
Three gave One an appreciative look. "I have to admit, I'm a little surprised. How did you know?"
One spun the tome he was reading, revealing a topographical map of Kallis' eastern coast.
They smiled at each other, and Two made a series of exasperated noises.
"Will you both stop speaking in riddles and explain why the mountain we're on has a gods damned thing to do with revealing my true name?" He hissed the last two words, as if merely speaking them would bring about ruin.
Just then, the cart shifted angles. They started moving downhill, and the other side of the mountain came into view.
Rolling fields of green and yellow crops swayed in an unseen breeze. A smattering of buildings were bunched together, some of which had gray streaks of smoke rising from their chimneys. Most notable of all was the far distance, where the sky was pink and orange above an endless sea of blue and green.
"Because, Keith..." Theo, the man also known as Three, answered with a broad grin. "We've arrived at Tropica."
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein