59 (II)
Ripple
Shiv stared at Adam, but he saw Uva’s fascinated expression from the corner of his eye. “It’s not your fault. That was as far as I got yesterday while I was thinking, before I was interrupted by the other things. That… that was the thought in my head: It’s not Shiv’s fault. I want to blame you. I’m so used to blaming you in my mind. Even when it wasn’t your fault before. But it was easy, because you weren’t there. Everything that went wrong? The terrible ritual? My terrible life? Shiv's fault.”
Adam looked off into the distance, misery written plain on his face. “And now, here you are. Here I am. Eating the breakfast you made. And you sit here, and you listen to me rant and whine, and you promise me over and over again: ‘We’re going to get them, Adam. We’re going to deal with them. We’re going to get the bastards!’ Just you, me, Valor, Uva, some other Umbrals and maybe a Weaveress or two… and no one else. No one else seems to want to care. No one else. In fact, the entire world’s gone mad. Everyone else… the Republic… the Republic is busy tearing into itself!” Adam practically shouted that last bit. “It’s absurd. Havel. The Inquisition. The Council. The Ascendants. My father. It’s all madness.”
“Yep,” Shiv said. “I won’t lie, we’re speeding towards a damned mess. But I think we can find the other side. I like our odds. I can’t die. You can find serial killers without trying. Uva can hide an entire Greater Demon in her mind. And while Valor’s not anywhere near full strength, he's got a plan for the Animancy Core. Things seem hard sometimes, but I think we’ll find a way. I think we’ll figure this thing out.”
Adam eyed Shiv, then nodded. “And that’s another thing I hate. Nothing shakes you.”
“Why?” Shiv asked softly.
“I don’t know why the world had to be this way. It would have been just so much simpler if…” Adam took in a breath. “It’s not your fault. It’s Havel’s. And Sullain’s. The Inquisition’s, too. Most of what's pissing me off doesn't even have anything to do with you anymore! There are so many things that father never told me about. About the war, about the Council, about everything. Starhawk’s Perch being so important. We don’t even know why it’s important! Until a few days ago, it was just the castle I grew up in. Now I know the father of my fiancée is willing to collaborate with an Abyssal priest, kill tens of thousands of people, and murder my father to get his hands on it. I just thought… I thought so many things. But it was all just fucking… I don’t know anything anymore.”
A rough silence settled over the three.
“Shiv… I, uh…” Adam swallowed. “I…”
“What?” Shiv prompted. “It’s okay, Adam. You don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to.”
Adam stared at Shiv, and he steeled himself, as if a man preparing to rip an arrow out of his flesh. “I’m sorry.”
“What?” Shiv said—he never believed those words would ever leave Adam’s mouth.
“I… I don’t… I don’t have the strength yet. I don’t think, I don’t know if I can forgive you yet. I know I should. I know it’s not your fault now. Every day I learn that a little bit more, but I just don’t have it.” Adam paused. “I have this memory from when I was a child, of my mother’s blood-red hair.” He licked his lips. “It’s just a foggy memory. I couldn’t have been old at all. There’s nothing else. It’s my first memory, and then it’s gone. But with the memory, there's feelings, feelings that I cling to, and there's grief.” He shook his head. “Sorry. I’m rambling again.”
“It’s okay,” Shiv said. “I… I don’t have any memories like that. I don’t know what to say.”
“I do,” Uva said quietly. She reached over and placed a hand on Adam’s. “I know this wound. I can remember my mother’s smell. Remember the last hug I ever gave her as she stepped out and told me to guard my sisters. It is a precious wound.”
Adam looked at her, swallowed hard, and just nodded. He finished the final bite of his egg and placed his fork down on the table. For a few minutes, no one felt the urge to say anything. “I think… I think I want to wash the dishes.”
“Holy shit,” Shiv muttered. “Are you okay, Adam? No one volunteers to wash the dishes. I think I got most of your concussion with that Woundeater, but—”
“Oh, get tainted you bastard.” Adam chucked his fork at Shiv’s face, which bounced off.
Uva caught it before it could strike the floor, giggling slightly. “Ah,” she sighed. “Indeed, you are Adam’s Fel. Agh, Composer…” She shuddered. “That’s a horrible, horrible thought.”
“Hey, things could be much worse,” Shiv said. “I could have gotten up and hugged Adam.”
“Gods, I would turn my bow on myself,” Adam said. Shiv stared at him. And slowly made to get up. “Stay away from me you ogre-shaped oaf. Uva. Stop him before I repaint your walls with my brain.”
“Come get your hug, Adam,” Shiv said.
“I’ll do it! It’ll put an arrow through my own eye.”
“I’ll just use my Woundeater to fix you if you do,” Shiv laughed.
“Uva! Stop him!”
Adam got out of his seat and fled across the room. Shiv stomped after. Uva sat at the table, struggling to contain her quiet laughter.
***
The three of them simply enjoyed each other’s company. After a while, Shiv told Adam about their encounter with Can Hu, and as he elaborated on what they experienced—the automaton’s offer and intentions—Adam looked uneasy.
“Shiv, I understand that the System moves in very, very weird ways, but I don’t know, doesn't this seem a little too contrived for you?”
“Maybe,” Shiv said, “but I don’t see an angle if you’re thinking this is a trap or something.”
“No, it’s just… There are many desperate people in the world. This Can Hu is not the first one to see its skills broken. Many Pathbearers prepare to die fighting with a blade in hand and a curse on their lips, rather than in bed waiting for death to take them like a Pathless. From what you say, this automaton was once a mighty warrior, but now it’s broken.”
Shiv nodded. “Can Hu said it’s going to fuse itself into my bone armor and serve in place of a natural Master-Tier armor.”
Adam shook his head. “Yes, and that sounds like madness.” Adam looked Shiv up and down, and then his expression changed into one of faux acceptance. “You know what, Shiv? Maybe this is perfect for you. A mad set of automaton armor for, well, you.”
Shiv grunted. “Well, we’ll see how it delivers in about two days.”
“Well, in the meantime, we should still continue searching for a set of armor,” Adam said. “I spotted some merchants yesterday while I was flying around. We can start there.”
“I could pull my contacts as well,” Uva said. “It’s best to have multiple options.”
Shiv regarded the two. It seemed they’d already written off Can Hu. But he had a feeling this wasn’t over.
“I have also been thinking,” Uva began, regarding the two. “I need to advance my physical skills. I have neglected my Physicality and Toughness far too much, and my recent battles have shown the folly of doing so. At the same time, both of you should get more used to facing Psychomancers in battle.”
“Yes,” Adam said. “We should do more training together. Shiv really needs it. Mainly to spare fragile Pathless and non-martials of his clumsy wrath.”
Shiv winced. “Yeah. Alright. I deserved that. Valor should probably be there too.”
“Indeed,” Adam said. “I have a feeling the bloody skull is using me to simplify his labor, but… He does give good insight. And decent conversation at times.”
“And to think this relationship started off with Valor asking me to put him through your eye.” Shiv grinned.
“Oh, believe me, sometimes he still acts like that,” Adam sneered. “So. Practice?”
“Practice,” Uva agreed.
“Practice,” Shiv said, cracking his fingers.
***
Stealth > 35
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Shiv’s training remained mostly within the realm of control, tactics, and caution. Adam drilled him on battle tactics, and Uva supplemented with what she knew. They both had him move carefully through the woods, trying to have him hide himself, using his stolen Umbral Shadowalker Skill to get from place to place without someone noticing.
Adam noted Shiv’s flaws as they went.
“Your Awareness is… Well, it’s frankly shit,” Adam said as they chewed on some fried rodent skewers during a break. Shiv nodded along, agreeing generally with the assessment. “You should have a much better Awareness Skill, considering how often we get ambushed. And we will get ambushed even more often as time goes on.”
Adam smirked. “But Stealth… That is a good thing for you to develop. For someone tough, fast, and destructive, I think what you should focus on next is to supplement your physique and Biomancy is a bit more subtlety. After all, the only thing more terrifying than the monster in front of you is the monster you don’t see.”
“I had a bit more success being stealthy than being a spy,” Shiv replied, thinking about his little escapades among the containers back in the gate. “It was fun, to some extent.”
“By fun, you mean leaving flayed bits of skin around as you hunt people like a creature from the woods?” Adam asked.
Shiv grunted. “Something like that.”
“That sounds wonderful for us,” Uva said. She pressed her lips together. “More ambush drills for Shiv?”
“Yes. Administered by me. You go back to dragging that log, Sister Uva.” Uva frowned at Adam. “Oh, yes.” The Young Lord chuckled. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to get out for more Physicality training. I have eyes and ears everywhere—”
Adam blinked. “Wait? Where are we?”
Shiv sighed. “Uva. Give him his memory back. He’s right.”
The Umbral pouted. “I hate Physicality training.”
“Yeah, well, you’re probably going to learn to love it when we move on to Toughness. For what it’s worth, I like watching you drag a tree.”
“Why is Uva dragging a tree?” Adam asked, confused.
“Uva,” Shiv grunted.
“Fine,” she said.
Adam blinked and shook his head. “Dammit, Uva. Not again. It's really time to get a bloody Magical Resistance Enchantment for this armor…”
***
Stealth > 37
Practical Metabiology > 20
As they finished with their physical and tactical training, they all moved on to their personal business. Uva returned to her duties while Adam departed to find an Enchanter able to put Magical Resistance on his armor. Shiv, meanwhile, spent some time on the Odes and departed for Cradle when he was finished.
Dven Falseflesh seemed ecstatic when Shiv showed the automaton his Master-Tier Biomancy. “A rare evolution! Even for one of the First Blood.” It regarded Shiv with its Umbral-like face. “This is exactly what I hoped for.”
“Is it?” Shiv replied. “I just kind of bumbled into the evolution.”
“Incorrect,” Dven declared. “It was shaped from your experiences and actions. You wound yourself constantly, you wound others, you break things, and your main desire while trying to save your allies cemented the change. Your Biomancy is veered towards the vulgar and offensive, towards the harming and deforming. But this is good. This means you will be able to shape things on a more fundamental level, and that might be just what we need to deal with the plagues that are affecting us. Your Practical Metabiology, where is it at?”
“Twenty.”
The weaver-shaped automaton tutted. “Ah. You need to dedicate more time to study.”
“Well, I’ll do that once people stop trying to kill me,” Shiv said.
“You should do that while people are trying to kill you. Wouldn't that accelerate the growth?”
Shiv frowned. “No. I wouldn't be dying because of lacking Practical Metabiology. I’d be dying because I’m not defending myself while reading. Odds are, I’ll just develop a speed-reading skill instead.”
The automaton considered the information. “Interesting. So that is how your Biomancy develops so quickly. Failure states.”
“Yeah,” Shiv said. “I gave myself cancers, I ripped another person open, and I clashed against powerful Biomancers. I killed another high vampire recently.” He froze, then looked up at the bot. “Right, I, uh, think I got the heart from a Master-Tier Biomancer.”
He reached into his cloak and pulled out the vampire’s still-beating heart. Shiv blinked in surprise.
The automaton took the heart from him and examined it for a moment. “Ah, yes, the lineage core. You’ve brought us back a unique specimen. I will include this among the other samples. Nonetheless, there is something I need you to focus on: I want you to see if you can catalog and memorize injuries.”
“What do you mean?” Shiv asked.
“Your Woundeaters, they contain crystallizations of wounds inflicted upon the body, correct?”
“Yeah?”
“Then, I believe you can shape one wound into another—or perhaps create a specific damage states through mana alone. If you can master this, it should allow you accelerated insight into the body architecture. It should also make you theoretically skilled at surgery, but that is unnecessary with your current Skill Evolution. Regardless, the goal here is to move from transference to pure creation. You are cutting and moving. But there is more to it than that. The body is a garden, and you have only begun to water yours.”
Shiv nodded slowly. He vaguely got what it was talking about. “I’ll see if I can do that, but it’ll take some focus.”
“All things take focus. And considering how willing you are to suffer for success, I think you’ll find this quite easy. In fact, you can start now,” Dven said.
Shiv raised an eyebrow. “Right now? You want me to do this right in front of you? On the nice, clean floors?”
“That is no issue,” Dven replied. “I will be able to clean this very easily. You are not the only Biomancer here, Master Shiv.”
Shiv paused. “Ah, forget about that sometimes.”
“You warrior types often do. Now, start with—” Shiv opened his throat. “Oh, I suppose that works.”
He gurgled, and then he fed the cut to a Woundeater. The wyrm danced atop the palm of his hand, and a crystallized wound burned at its core, shimmering in sigils of bright crimson.
“Quite the spell,” Dven mused. “Now, let’s see if you can recreate that structure without inflicting a wound on yourself first. If you can do that, perhaps we can influence your next skill evolution.”
“I don’t think that’s going to be anytime soon,” Shiv replied.
“Perhaps. Or perhaps not. The System favors you, Shiv. It has its eye on you, and I expect you to be using this magical lore more and more. Why, perhaps even a Skill Fusion might be in your future, and that might change everything about you once more.”
Shiv considered that. “Alright then, let’s see if I can make a Recipe of Wounds.”
As he thought in those terms, the crystallized wound held within the spell began to glimmer faintly white, as if an ingredient for The Chef Unwavering. But then it faded, and Shiv felt a faint inspiration brush him and depart before fully settling in.
Despite trying several more times, the feeling never quite came back that day.
Practical Metabiology > 21
Woundeater > 59
***
Two more days passed, according to this pace and schedule: breakfast in the morning, followed by tactical training out in the wilderness; some quick lunch, then back to Weave for academics and Biomancy; then dinner and off time. Ikki and the rest of Uva’s team also joined in. Valor attended to watch on one occasion, but he spent most of his time in the Hallowed Depths, discussing various matters with Beetles-Needs-Pets and Silent Spinner.
Late at night, Adam, Uva, and Shiv usually ventured across the city, examining new places they hadn’t been. Adam showed them the park where he found the Drowner, and true to his word, an entire section of the park was sealed off and pending further investigation. To Adam’s surprise, the guards of Framework recognized him and asked for his autograph—which the Young Lord was more than happy to give.
It was in the middle of that second day when they were summoned by the Composer. At first, Shiv had expected a conversation about the Jealousy and his experiences in Gate Theborn. But as they arrived at the Symposium, they were informed by one of the Weaveress guards that Valor had arrived shortly before them, and a few moments later they found him locked in tense, heated conversation with the Composer.
“And you found out just now? Are you sure about this?” Valor demanded. Shiv heard the heat in the Legendary Pathbearer’s voice as he approached the innermost depths of Symposium.
“Yes,” the Composer said, her voice high with tension, yet certain, like silk hiding iron. “One of my Trapdoor Shadow Cells confirmed it. They saw them moving fast, carrying with them members of Aviary. They’re running. Worse, they appear to be on their way to Gate Theborn. I believe they’re going to trade it to Compact for passage to the surface.”
As Shiv, Uva, and Adam arrived, the goddess turned to greet them with a severe expression on her face. “Cherished Sister. Exalted Guests. I owe you congratulations on bringing an intact Jealousy back as a prize, but I fear there is another task upon us already—another problem that might make matters desperate for us all.”
“What’s wrong?” Shiv said, looking at Valor.
“I'm afraid our run on the gate will need to be delayed for a while longer,” Valor growled.
“And it is not only this,” the Composer continued. “Things are happening all across the Abyss, Valor. Entire Aviary cells seem to be fleeing Abyssal nation territories, trying to escape however they can. The Necrotechs managed to purge most of their hidden vermin, but the Elders of the First Blood—poor as my relationships with them have always been—have informed me that their own Aviary spies have openly fled and left nothing behind. Something major is coming.”
“A new war?” Valor asked.
“Now? No,” the Composer replied. “It shouldn’t be a war of the Five Faiths. Things aren’t steady or peaceful between us, even in the best of times, but we have no capacity to wage war like before—not right now, nor do we have the want. The wounds are still too fresh.”
“But what else could it be?” Valor pressed.
“I suspect it has something to do with the surface,” the Composer said, looking at Shiv and Adam as she spoke. “Because Sullain has overdrawn his hand and someone has delayed the arrival of his weapon, more deals have been struck. Regardless, the fragment changes everything, again. The System!” the Composer spat, venom in her words and eyes. “All it wants is for us to bleed. Another Quest—and so soon.”
“Quest?” Adam asked. “Fragment?”
“Ah, Hero Adam, allow me to first congratulate you on your advancement.”
Adam squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. “It honors me to be congratulated by a goddess as magnificent as you, Composer.”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, the Composer laughed lightly, hiding her mouth with a hand. “Alas,” she continued, her expression falling a moment later, “you are called here today to deal with an extreme circumstance. Here. Behold with your own eyes. Behold what is at stake—and what rewards there are to win.” She held out her hand, and within the space of her massive fingers formed a sphere of gold—a sphere containing the glowing magic of a new Quest. “This Quest is for everyone present. You as well, Cherished Sister Uva. You, and a select group of others.”
Shiv hesitated before he reached into the gold. As he did, the System reached back into his mind, and it revealed to him a new threat on the horizon.
Quest Gained: Intercept the Outcast Dragon-Knights of the Descenders Union and their new Aviary allies before they can sell the Right Hand of Valor Thann to Compact and re-open Gate Theborn.
Success: +10 Levels to a Chosen Skill; Evolve an [Existing Skill] to Adept-Tier; [Hidden] Master-Tier Item; The Right Hand of Valor Thann
Failure: Compact begins a war with Weave. Gate Lord Confriga regains favor in the eyes of Lord Scorn and is given a major Necromantic effigy. Guardshead Leu’s position within the gate becomes compromised by Aviary. Gate Theborn’s defenses are significantly bolstered. The Dragon-Knights bring with them a mana storm that crashes down on Blackedge and shrouds the sky, protecting Vicar Sullain from the Light-Curse.
“Shit,” Shiv muttered.
“Shit,” Adam hissed.
“Indeed,” Valor sighed. “My fragment… held by traitorious Dragon-Knights… This… this will not be easy.”