The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Despite his excitement, Randidly watched the process of donation very carefully. He was rather wary of the Dreamcatcher’s rather flippant admittance that there was a mysterious ‘cost’. And while it clearly gave the impression that it was possible, it included no guidance to what that cost might be. So when Derek pressed his hand against the three-dimensional rope Dreamcatcher, Randidly’s Grim Intuition was pushed to his limit to watch this potential member of the Order Ducis.

And as it turned out, the ‘cost’ was something rather valuable, but it was something that Randidly knew would gradually recover. The donation required that same emotional weight that Randidly had divvied up between his drops of liquid Aether and his physical improvements while in the Dungeon. But luckily it didn’t seem to require an extremely large amount of emotional weight.

The problem was that Derek Moss wasn’t Randidly. So even this small cost left him rather pale and wan looking. Derek’s formerly robust and steadfast image had been reduced to a ghost of itself by the process. Randidly put his hand on the man’s shoulder and squeezed, passing a thin vein of golden energy into his body. “You likely feel pretty weak right now, but that should pass in a day or so. Unfortunately, you were the guinea pig, so I didn’t know what to expect.”

“Ha, I’m just glad to help…” Derek said with a reassuring smile. Randidly left it at that, but he would devote a portion of his awareness toward Derek to make sure that the healing was a simple a process as he made it out to be. If the recovery depended on the total amount of emotional energy, Derek might remain this way for quite some time.

Just as Randidly was leaving, Hydie’s hesitant voice stopped him. “Do you… do you want to take my memory too?”

Randidly glanced over his shoulder at her and turned around after seeing the firm line of her mouth. “...while I don’t think it’s strictly necessary, it may be valuable. But… are you willing to endure the cost? As you can see from Mr. Moss, it isn’t a small thing…”

Hydie Mordath glanced sideways at Derek. Yet more than the heaviness in her gaze, it was Hydie’s image that had Randidly’s attention.

“Even if it’s difficult, I’d like to contribute.” In real-time, Randidly watched Hydie Mordath’s image rapidly progress in front of him. The ethereal figure at the center of a web of misfortune gradually sharpened before his focus, until it was a regal and austere Hydie that looked down on the surrounding world with grey eyes. She seemed to be even more deeply mired in the threads of unluckiness that extended from her fingers… but she seemed to have a measure of control over them that wasn’t present before.

In fact, the hands of the figure in the image tightened on those strings. Her aura was gradually weaving itself together into a tighter net. She could never escape being inexorably tied to misfortune, but she didn’t need to let that rule her. As the details of the image slowly harmonized with each other, Randidly sensed a drastic change in power from the young woman in front of him.

And strangely, that similarity that Randidly had noticed early in Hydie’s image, that likely stemmed from the same source as those malcontents, was erased as she found her own Path forward. That hint that she, too, had been nudged into coming into the Order Ducis vanished as if it had never been present.

But does that mean that she’s no longer a danger to the Order Ducis… or that she’s just blending exceeding well..? A suspicious part of Randidly mused. But out loud, he nodded solemnly to Hydie. “Well then, thank you. More data is exactly what we need right now.”

The process of extracting her memories was actually much more smooth than Derek’s. Perhaps because of how solid and uniform Derek’s psyche was, he possessed less of that necessary and valuable emotional weight that fueled the images. Whatever had just happened to Hydie’s image proved that she had that emotional weight in droves, even if she couldn’t mobilize it yet.

She possessed enough emotional weight, Randidly reflected, that she could probably refine herself a drop of liquid Aether. If someone taught her about the process and how to do it, of course. But he let that thought lay for a while as Hydie donated her memory.

Congratulations! Your Fatepiece Dreamcatcher of the Long Night has grown to Level 82!

Randidly pulled back his Dreamcatcher of the Long Night and wrapped it around his wrist. Although the texture of the rope was familiar, it certainly felt slightly more weighty after the recent additions. “Thank you. I have a feeling that this will be very useful. Due to your contributions… I’ll arrange for the two of you to be part of the ten people inducted truly into the Order Ducis. Thank you for your support.”

Then Randidly left, moving before either of those two could react to the news. Despite his kind words, his sudden departure was purposeful in order to give them some space to react honestly without his presence. As he walked out of the Kharon police office and back into the sunlight, he felt both of their emotions permeate their images in very obvious ways. In neither of their responses did he detect anything suspicious.

Humming to himself, Randidly sent a message to Neveah about a new Engraving he wanted to try making and then focused his attention on the Dreamcatcher. Immediately, as his perception went into that place filled with echoing chimes, Randidly realized why the process had been so exhausting. He didn’t just take a single memory from the two newest memories of the Order Ducis; he took a whole web of memories.

The soundscape gleamed and echoed with new sounds around his surprised consciousness.

Narrowing his eyes, Randidly began to explore his adjusted Fatepiece. The memories were there, but Randidly could sense that it would be extremely difficult for him to visit them if he had no connection to the scenes. The rapid pace at which his mental energy was consumed would be even more egregious if he tried to view another’s memories. As such, he would only sparingly be able to dig into these two’s past.

But this also set Randidly to thinking about his insight from before; this Fatepiece wasn’t the same as the Philosopher's Key. He had thought it was a simple tool that let him visit the past. But the fact that it could take the memories of others and incorporate them…

Well, that meant he would need to obtain memories that he shared with another and experiment with how possessing both affected the chimescape.

For the moment, however, Randidly’s mind turned in a different direction. To a batch of memories he had been meaning to get around to, but that he had kept pushing away. It was time to view the movie left for him by Yystrix.

*****

Sydney released a sharp breath and rapped her knuckles against the door. Several large crows sat in the surrounding trees, watching her with beady eyes as the sleet continued to slant sideways down and plaster her hair to her skull. The chilling rain seemed to skid off the crows' feathers and leave them completely dry.

Sydney knocked with more force, almost wishing these strange crows would attack her. Yet within the house, the only response that Sydney sensed was silence.

All in all, she was in a very bad mood. On the one hand, she somehow felt that maintaining this general state of irritation would fare her very well in the near future; the momentum of her emotions would make the hard acts she planned on undertaking tonight much easier. But on the other hand…

My underwear is soaked. A very sour Sydney reflected. My elemental means I’m basically immune to the cold but in the face of precipitation…

She was irrevocably damp. The sort of damp that seems impossible to escape, when you are in the thick of it. Sydney knocked again on the door, with enough force that the wood groaned. “Is anyone home? I’m going to come in if I don’t receive an answer…”

There was no forthcoming answer, which was exactly the sort of ambiguous answer that a woman with cold and wet clothes did not appreciate. Sydney’s eyes sharpened at the quaint wooden door in front of her, as though she could will her eyes to penetrate through the material in front of her and reveal the innards of this place. But her determined attempt was for naught.

This house had been built by someone capable. Not only were the materials solid enough to withstand the casual use of a System-empowered human, but there was a hint of an image at the edges of this construction. Not enough that Sydney could sense who made it, but enough that her senses couldn’t easily reach the interior of the house.

How is it even possible? Do images really work like this…? Sydney bit the soft flesh on the inside of her cheeks to expend some of her mounting fury. Her emotions were like a train slated for decommissioning, rushing for the end of their tracks. Too late to turn back now. She knocked again and waited a few seconds. There was no answer.

Sydney considered simply using her image to rip the faint presence on these walls to shreds, but the train wasn’t off the tracks quite yet. On the off chance that this was the wrong house, she didn’t wish to have an awkward conversation with the owner after she had eradicated that defensive image. Sydney imagined it would be very useful against monsters.

But would a person powerful enough to do this with an image need to worry about monsters…?

So instead she gritted her teeth, pushed her dripping hair out of her eyes, and seized the heavy copper handle of the door. When she twisted, the door opened easily and Sydney was able to step into the small hut.

The door closed behind her and immediately the ceaseless rustle of raindrops bursting on the ground was muted by that same image that had stymied her. This place was isolated from the outside world. The weight of the water that she carried in with her slowly dripped down Sydney’s limbs and off her onto the floor. Her eyes were sharp as they landed at the figure sitting at the table, regarding her with a small smile.

“You were inside the entire time,” Sydney said. “Why didn’t you answer?”

Neveah shook her head. “I was very afraid of this conversation. I couldn’t muster up the strength to answer. It turns out… I’m something of a coward.”

Sydney flicked her hand and unleashed a wave of cold across her body. The moisture on her turned to frost and her elemental pulled it off her person and pressed it into a human-head sized chunk of ice. Then Sydney flexed her hand and destroyed the ice, sending frozen chips across the interior of the cabin. “You also didn’t lock the door.”

To this, Neveah inclined her head. “I don’t think I could bear to support this secret on my own any longer. I was torn.”

Neveah’s response confused Sydney, but she quickly pulled her attention away from that so she didn’t get distracted. The train tracks were ending soon. The conductor on her emotion-train was throwing the last of his coal into the engine, causing the overstrained behemoth to accelerate toward its demise. Her shoulders trembled as she considered the individual in front of her.

Sydney cleared her throat. It was very loud, compared to the silence of the room and the pattering of rain outside. “Where is he?”

Neveah pointed to a chair opposite her at the table. “Take a seat.”

Almost subconsciously, Sydney chilled the interior of the cabin with a flash of hatred. Drake’s unconscious face flashed before her mind’s eye. She recognized the folded clothes in a corner next to a desk as Roy’s. “I’m very surprised that you, of all people, would protect him. Is Randidly behind this? If you think I won’t fight you two-”

Neveah rolled her eyes. She didn’t speak, however, just pointed.

Sydney forcefully reigned in her irritation, although she couldn’t prevent the tightening of the muscles along her jaw. But she followed Neveah’s finger and saw a piece of paper. With slow steps, Sydney walked up to the table. It was a letter. She immediately recognized the handwriting as Roy’s.

“What is this?” Sydney asked. Despite herself, her fingers reached out and brushed against the worn material. Someone had crumpled this piece of paper several times before painstakingly smoothing it out.

When she looked over at Neveah, the woman was crying. “I suppose it’s what you humans call a suicide note.”

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