The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Randidly came back to Expira and let the chaotic mess of images that dominated in the wake of the Calamity soak over his skin. Without any overwhelming power individual, he could feel the chorus of emotions lapping up against him. He felt their battered hope, the sense of relief and weary exhaustion at their success, and also a powerful drive to improve themselves so this couldn't happen again.

But even if most of the people on Expira weren’t anything of note, there were some extremely noticeable exceptions. Several new images had emerged, burning with an intensity and potential that filled Randidly with hope.

Even if he failed, as long as he could protect the Alpha Cosmos, others would step forward to try and fight against the Nexus’s tyranny. His planet would soon be able to protect itself, as long as he gave it time to develop.

At the same time, Randidly made note of a powerful feeling of fear and resentment toward the System that grew in some of the Zones. Most disappointing was the pool of the population that had dug in their heels on the issue of the images, seeming to decide that the violence of the Calamity had convinced them that they could never be powerful enough to matter. So they shouldn’t even bother to try.

Randidly heaved out several sighs as he walked along the dirt path to Neveah’s cabin. His breath misted in front of him in the cold air. Perhaps even more than the negative reaction to the threat was the message from his Pantheon: they wanted to know what timeline they should use for the Second Calamity.

For now, Randidly left that message unanswered. He wasn’t ready to consider the implications of that question quite yet.

Neveah opened the door before Randidly had even knocked, wearing a fluttering pink dress that did not fit in with the light dusting of snow on the ground. Randidly cocked an eyebrow at her outfit and Neveah shrugged. “It’s pretty, so I’m wearing it. Any other burning questions?”

Randidly shook his head and walked into the room while hiding his smile. Immediately, his eyes snapped to Claudette, who sat at Neveah’s table and blew on a tray of muffins to cool them off. Not even the welcoming smell of freshly baked goods could take his attention from the incessant worry in his chest. Their eyes met and Randidly felt cool prickles all along his skin.

Claudette’s blonde hair, high cheekbones, and bright eyes remained the same. But when she smiled, the expression was wickedly sharp; some of the grudge that this young woman had nursed for her entire life had finally been exposed to the world. The image was still developing, but Randidly felt the fell edge of a blade press up against his neck as she spoke. “Well? What do you think? Am I ready to win against my father?”

“Yes well, it still feels a bit… strange,” Claudette set down the tray of muffins and looked at her hands. For a brief moment, space pulsed and she was holding a sword of ice, filled with cloying smog that attempted to strangle three bright stars out of existence. Then the image receded, leaving her hands shaking. “I feel so vulnerable. Like I poured everything into this transformation and if it ends up not being enough, I’ll have nothing else-”

“Isn’t that the point? To pour yourself fully into the effort?” Randidly urged. He licked his lips and thought the cruel smile of Commandant Wick. “Because otherwise, you would never have a hope of accomplishing the impossible.”

For a moment, Claudette looked at her hands and Randidly looked at her downturned face, feeling quite a lot of empathy for the young woman. How could he not, after spending almost a year’s worth of time toiling to help improve her image? Her goal was his.

Then Neveah nudged Randidly to the side and walked into the room. “Both of you need to relax a bit. Before you start picking at what you could have done in the past, examine the present and truly know your situation. How about we take a break and enjoy ourselves a bit?”

Immediately, Randidly shook his head. “I should be training-”

“I have to familiarize myself with my image-” Claudette started speaking at the same time as Randidly. But what brought both of them to a guilty stop was the same sort of desperate edge in their tones that seemed to suggest that Neveah was correct.

Neveah had no grace in her victory. “No one wants to appreciate how wise I am, eh? You are a pair of unenlightened maniacs. Well, that’s fine, but let me just say that if either of you twists yourself into such knots that your head pops off from the pressure, I won’t have much sympathy.

“Besides,” she continued as Randidly frowned at her. “If you refused to take a break, you would be making me a liar; Donnyton is hosting a festival, I think to celebrate their usual 6-month competition that had been delayed by the Calamity, and I’ve signed all three of us to run a food stand at the festival. For old times sake.”

Despite himself, Randidly felt his lips twitching. “Do you really think we can casually open a food stall and expect no one to notice us?”

Neveah waved her hand. “Claudette will handle the customers; we will work in the back. I’ve been putting a lot of thought into our backstory too: three sibling orphans, fleeing from our quaint hamlet in the mountains where we had been living the idyllic life, driven away from everything we have known by the ferocious encroachment of the Calamity, before finally finding sanctuary in the warm and welcoming bosom of Donnyton.”

“...maybe between you two, but I don’t think there is much familiar resemblance for me,” Claudette observed dryly.

Neveah’s expression brightened. “Perfect! You can be my lover.”

Claudette’s eyes widened a tad too much for Neveah’s tastes, who then stamped her foot several times and pouted. Randidly opened his mouth to comment how unusually animated she was today, but something snapped into place in his rested mind. Her snarky remarks, Randidly’s own emotional turmoil, their Soulbond that had gone up twenty Levels without him noticing it. Perhaps he and Claudette truly needed the break, but Neveah needed it too.

His expression softened and he instead turned to speak to Claudette. “These sort of things don’t take much time, but sometimes space and activities without toil are needed for the right sort of perspective to grow toward your image. We will have time to familiarize yourself with your newfound prowess before your father’s party.”

Claudette’s eyes flashed and a pulse of desolation leaked out of her. The effect was nearly imperceptible, but the muffins in front of Claudette seem to shrivel and dry out underneath her outstretched fingers. That strange reaction earned a wince from Claudette and finally seemed to convince her that Neveah has a point. She threw her hand up into the air. “Alright, fine. We will… run a casual eatery at this festival. But I don’t have much experience with this sort of toil, so please forgive me if it takes a bit.”

“Casual eatery?” Randidly said wryly, but then it struck him that the daughter of Don Beigon might really have been raised in such a sheltered environment that she didn’t really understand what running a food stand at a festival would entail. Perhaps even a fast service sort of concessions stand was beyond her understanding. He looked to Neveah and saw the same realization in her gaze.

Both of their sets of eyes began to crinkle at the edges.

*****

She walked into the room, trying hard not to show how bashful she currently felt. Neveah looked up from her argument with Randidly about the menu long enough to give Claudette an admiring glance. “Oh, perfect, I got your size right.”

Randidly paused from unpacking a wooden box filled with tomatoes to look over at Claudette. His lips twitched and he gave Neveah a sidelong glance that informed her that there was a joke here that Claudette was missing.

She looked down at the black dress with a white apron combo that Neveah had provided. The material is a bit stiff, but its high quality. Obviously, this is part of a uniform, but why is Randidly making that sort of face? Is this not how a restaurant worker dresses on their planet?

Claudette turned back and forth, feeling the frilly skirt swish around her. She wouldn’t label herself as unusually vein, but considering her long legs and healthy diet, she believed that she looked quite fetching in this outfit. And she wanted to make sure she looked her best, considering that she would be the one interacting with the customers, to keep Randidly and Neveah from revealing themselves.

Around them, other workers and cooks bustled about the back end of the erected tent as they made their preparations for their own restaurants. An elderly woman dictated to a young girl, who solemnly wrote menu offerings on a chalkboard. A man two restaurants down was inspecting his ingredients and quietly cursing. Claudette could hear the metronomic clack of a knife cutting against wood and already her nose detected several savory scents in the surroundings.

A massive tent covered the twenty individual stalls, masking the number of food vendor options and covering the massive, somewhat communal kitchen area in the back. Neveah had reserved them one stove, sink, and section of counter that was squeezed uncomfortably close in with the rest, even if the tight proximity meant that most of the pervading chill of the current weather was kept at bay.

Claudette smoothed down the front of her dress. If nothing else, this experience will be a diversion from how horrifyingly cold I feel all the time now. My image is empowered… but some things haven’t changed.

“I'm just saying, why soups and stews?” Randidly scratched his chin. “I get that it’s a cold-weather food, but are we just giving people cups to carry away with them? That’s not very satisfying, is it?”

“You haven’t tried my soups, but even Sydney is impressed by them. I earned hums of pleasure from Drake,” Neveah grumbled. “Is this just about being head chef? I don’t care which of us is the chef; I just think soups will be a hit. No one else is doing it.”

“Because the logistics of soups are a hassle?” Randidly rolled his eyes, looking surprisingly mundane as he bickered with his sister. It was somewhat hard for her to imagine that this was the same being that planted the seeds of rage and hatred she now watered in her chest.

Claudette turned and peered around the edge of the flap over the entrance to the wide tent. They weren’t supposed to open for another two hours, but there were still hundreds of people walking through the lanes outside of the food tent, chattering and laughing. And those streams of individuals were concerned thin. They were at the North end of the valley in which the city of Donnyton was situated, with the festival area built around the arena in which the various individuals were currently competing. Most of the population was currently concentrated at the venue.

To Claudette’s senses, the people of this town were so incredibly weak. But she couldn’t deny that looking at them, feeling their fragility, gave her the strangest sense of security.

If these people dare smile, dare strive for their dreams… Claudette patted her apron flat. Surely I can too?

“Okay, okay, soups.” Randidly raised his hands. “But we can’t just do soups-”

“Yes, feel free to figure out what you are going to contribute at any time,” Neveah said dryly. Then she turned to Claudette. “Oh, I reached out to someone who should be over shortly. You won’t have to handle orders alone. And I think the two of you will get along swimmingly, considering his history.”

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