The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

The scent of old leather faded, but Edraine was still not comfortable within the Sanctum.

Past the archway was a long passage that was covered with complicated interlacing patterns. With the heavy and dark hewn stone of the tower, the space quickly became claustrophobic. Velio studied the markings intently and gestured expansively when Edraine moved to stand beside him. “Fascinating. These defenses incorporate aspects of Nether into their arrangement. At the time of the making of this place, I was much weaker than my current self- but to feel what our forefathers were capable of accomplishing is truly inspiring.”

Edraine did her best to ignore the fanatical gleam in Velio’s eye and followed the man into the interior of the gloomy tower. He moved in sharp turns and buzzing energy, like an excited child. Her own examination was much more considered. Her expression was drawn; the strange sigils covering the walls glittered in the lapping waves of purple light that wafted up from below, but most of her attention was consumed by the growing heaviness in the air.

Even worse, something definitely stirred from deeper within the Sanctum. She felt the curious gaze of that conscious being at the core of this place slide across her and shivered.

The tunnel steadily widened until they came out into a grand hall hung with massive banners. The threads of the banners were brilliant and bright, but the shadows hung heavy along with them, muting their radiance. The darkness clustered and bred above them, completely masking the ceiling. Along the far wall, a set of double doors at least five meters tall, made of carved bone, stood ajar.

“The mark of the eight original Patrons, in all their splendor,” Velio Dunn strode confidently forward and grinned up at the banners. “By today’s standards, each could be considered a Speculum. And this was in the Second Cohort! Ah, perhaps it is true that Elhume’s attempts to create a perfect race were flawed from the start. The Nexus was at its peak in the past.”

Then Velio Dunn pointed to each of the shadowy banners in turn. “Our wise ambassador, the Patron of Feathers. The inscrutable philosopher, the Patron of the Deep. The brave Patron of the Sun. The kindest of them all, the Patron of Blooms. Our misunderstood spy, the Patron of the Borrowed. The silent and brooding Patron of the Abyss. The warlike Patron of Blades. And finally, the Patron of the Truth…”

Here, Velio heaved a deep sigh. “The Patron of the Truth was one of the Patrons that died during the chaotic fighting at the end of the Second Cohort. Which seemed tragically fitting, in a way; she was the greatest of us all… she would have been very disappointed by what the Nexus has become.”

So these eight are you heroes, even though you imprisoned them. Edraine thought as her lips twitched. She supposed that she was technically a contemporary of him, but she had been too wrapped up in her family drama at the time to pay much attention to the broader situation of the Nexus. But certainly, it was eye-opening to see the grim and bitter Velio Dunn suddenly become so… excitable.

They arrived before the imposing bone doors and Velio rubbed his hands together. Then he grabbed the dusky frame of the door. It swung silently outward, allowing them immediate passage to the deepest chamber within the Sanctum.

What waited on the other side was a large, circular room with eight equal cells along the walls. The symbols of each of the Patrons were inscribed above their individual cell. Immediately, Edraine’s attention was drawn over to the hot and harsh presence of a scaled humanoid sitting in the Patron of the Sun’s cell. Waves of steam wafted off his body, clouding the air around his figure.

Through the haze, the Patron flashed his pointed teeth. “...I can feel how much time has passed, how much my people have forgotten and been led astray. But there is one thing I do not understand. Where are half of my companions, children? Have some of us already been released? The seal shouldn’t have been broken.”

Next to her, Velio finally shook himself from his stare at the patron in the flesh and examined the other cells. Although Edraine could sense beings sleeping in the depths of the cells for Blooms, Abyss, and Blades, the cells that should half held Feathers, Deep, and the Borrowed were empty.

Edraine looked at Velio, who was shaking his head. “One other Patron died in the fighting… which should explain one Patron missing. I’m not sure which. But as for the other two, I have no idea.”

“Perhaps your fellows weren’t as stoic as you thought,” Edraine remarked.

*****

“Thank you for your assistance, and I hope your recovery will be swift,” Tosam straightened from his bow and glanced from the cushioned palette on which D’min was laying to the other members of the Lizakh, who watched from the side. Tosam’s sharp eyes flicked back to the bedridden figure. “I can assure you that after your display, King Phirun will always be a friend to the Lizakh. We will spread the word of your assistance across all of Expira.”

D’min nodded numbly, unable to meet the gazes of Tosam’s guards as they departed. He couldn’t find any reason to look away from the vast majesty of the sea. Even the vicious Kadir gave D’min a long glance before following the rest. Which left the exhausted and vaguely numb lizardman alone with the wind and the water and the salt.

They were back in that fort by the sea that only a few days ago had been swarmed by wave after wave of Calamity-powered monsters. But two days ago, Alana Donal had slain the Patron of the Grey and freed Expira.

To D’min’s shock, he had ended up being an integral part of that effort. Honestly, he didn’t think about much.

Only a few sluggish thoughts managed to drag themselves into wakefulness these past few days.

Unfortunately, this battle didn’t mean everything returned to normal. The monsters that were already present on Expira hadn’t vanished, so the Zones had a lot of cleaning up yet ahead of them. Monster hordes still roamed through the vast unpopulated wilderness of the planet. But D’min had earned himself the chance to sit and watch waves crash against the shore. Yet rather than restive, D’min was simply numb. He felt so hollowed out by his experience.

Everything felt like a dream. Only those few minutes of desperate battle remained poignant in his mind.

Yn’ulk walked up to D’min after a while, joining him on the battlements of the squat fort to watch the flowing sea. The breeze was chill, but D’min could barely feel it. Finally, Yn’ulk sighed. “I cannot say I do not understand why you made that choice. But turning you back on the Patron of the Sun- there will be consequences. Not just for your immortal soul, but the elders will likely try and excommunicate you from our hatchery.”

D’min nodded. He could still feel that moment when he had desperately reached through that bond that had always been silent and a horrifyingly powerful being had answered. That sensation was imprinted upon him now, perhaps for the rest of his life.

In fact, that feeling still sent reverberations through D’min. It was the reason he was currently bedridden, afflicted with such a severe apathy that he could not even move his legs.

“But thank you. You did what I could not,” Yn’ulk’s expression crumpled. “My power, my faith, my dedication to my people… it meant nothing before this planet's Calamity. I can understand, since you likely experienced similar feelings, how you were driven to such desperate lengths.”

D’min nodded again. The sound of the sea breeze and the waves washed everything else away for a while, carrying him forward into a world of pure sound. When he finally drifted back to his body, Yn’ulk was gone. But a new figure took his place.

The woman sat on the edge of the battlements and kicked her bare feet, her green eyes crinkled at the edges as she watched the sea dance. She had long black hair and wore a fluttering aqua dress with yellow stars across the skirt. Perhaps sensing his wakefulness, she turned to him and smiled. “Hello, Mister D’min. I’m Neveah. Would you like some help?”

D’min nodded dutifully; it was the one action that remained to him.

Still with the warm expression, Neveah stood and drifted closer. She raised her hands and radiated small motes of light that landed on the scales of his arms and sunk into them. She spoke as well, in an almost musical voice. “You know, I suspect Randidly didn’t even know what he was doing. He had just spent so much time pouring himself out to help someone else, he was sleeping. He definitely interfered with your bond with the Patron of the Sun… but I don’t believe he recalled that the connection remained active.

“When you prayed for help, any help, you appealed directly to his subconscious… and the Ghosthound stirred in response to your primal need.” Neveah moved her hands, spreading the motes of light across the whole of D’min’s body. “Some part of him descended and possessed your body for those few minutes. Honestly, he at least kept his images uninvolved; it was just the overwhelming Willpower of the Ghosthound and his battle instincts that you bore. But even if it was just those things, they were too much for your psyche. The force at which he can now feel is not something you can handle all at once. That’s why everything else now seems bland and empty in comparison.”

With great care, Neveah lowered her hands and pressed them against D’min brow. His head tingled strangely, but the sensation wasn’t unpleasant. “Your mind is so overdrawn at the moment. You briefly housed an existence much larger than you. If we let you recover naturally- well, honestly I’m not sure if you would ever return to normal. Your state is considered natural by the System. Which is why I wanted to come and give you some help. I’ll just fudge the edges of your memory and let you forget the bleeding edge the Ghosthound holds. At least for now.”

The tingling intensified. D’min sucked a breath in through his teeth. His stomach spasmed strangely and he suddenly realized he wasn’t sure when was the last time he ate.

“But if you hadn’t been briefly possessed by Randidly’s subconscious, fighting forward and suppressing the Ascendant Nightmare that was harrying Alana Donal, who knows if she would have been able to strike a decisive blow against the recently birthed Patron of the Grey.” Neveah finally lowered her hands. The tingling continued to spread through D’min’s torso to his extremities.

Then she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his forehead. “You were a hero, Mr. D’min. One thing that I’ve learned from Randidly is that being a hero is all about being in the right place at the right time and having the will to follow through. I don’t want you to have sacrificed that will you decided in order to save my home. You deserve happiness, too.”

The place that she kissed released a wave of heat that briefly stupefied D’min. Even worse, when the heat reached those small tingling spots, his entire body was set aflame. A wildfire raced across his scales. That pain throbbed and throbbed, worsening each second. Tears formed in the corner of his eyes and D’min couldn’t help but lean forward and release a curse. “By the sun!”

So dry was his throat that the words could only be croaked out. That set off a bout of coughing that shook him and made D’min curl up like a shrimp. One of his fellow Lizakh heard the commotion and hurried over, carrying a carafe of water. The woman had vanished, leaving them alone with the sound of the sea waves.

Fssssh!

The warrior hurriedly poured some into a wooden cup and offered it to D’min. “Ah, are you alright? You’ve been so still for the past few days that some thought- well. It would not be unexpected if there was a cost for the power- D’min, are you crying?”

D’min didn’t bother to nod. He simply wrapped his arms around his shoulder and let the tears flow out of his eyes. His body felt new and unfamiliar and every sensation was sharp. The memories of the past few days receded, leaving him feeling new and vulnerable. Everything overwhelmed him. A wave crashed against the shore and sent a thousand drops of water glittering through the air. A brief and ephemeral rainbow lay draped between those drops.

“We did it,” D’min whispered.

The other Lizakh warrior nodded, a knowing look on his face. “Yes. We won.”

“How many…?” His throat was too dry and his eyes too wet and everything too fresh for D’min to continue, so he took the cup and sipped at the water.

The older warrior's face sagged. “Only four. But we have brought honor to our people.”

D’min continued to cry freely, watching the sea.

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