The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

When Randidly closed his eyes, he could feel Donnyton moving around him. From the high fever pitch of emotions down in the stadium suspended above the sinkhole, they were nearing the climax of whichever event was currently occurring. The crowd roared and cheered, each adding to an invisible narrative of what this city was. The sharp images of Donnyton moved across the sky like mirages, casting long, inverted shadows upon the grey clouds overhead.

Although most of the population hadn’t headed to the festival area yet, thousands of people toiled in the food stalls, artists' stands, and vendor areas to make preparation for a long day of work. Since Randidly had been back to Donnyton, the city had crept up over the two hills that hemmed in the original valley and begun to spill down into the surrounding area.

Compared to the potent desires at the stadium, the workmanlike efficiency of the workers was a different sort of impressive. But like all things, the people of Donnyton approached challenges directly and with resolve.

And yet here I am, suddenly serving as a line cook in a soup stand. God, I wish I still had my Cooking Skill. Maybe then Neveah would let me help with something more important than the carb. Randidly’s lips twitched as he pulled his senses back into only his immediate surroundings.

He stood in the kitchen, a bowl of egg, flour, and salt partially mixed in front of him. He paused in his rotations and shook himself. He flexed his hands, savoring the tactile sensation of standing in only a single place; he pushed his insights about Donnyton’s image out of his mind. Then he began to increase the amount of radiation that flowed into his body through the Hierarchy of Burden. Neveah’s desire for them to take a break aside, Randidly was growing a bit bored.

A mental and emotional break? Randidly could allow that. He probably needed it, quite desperately, more desperately than he could admit even to himself.

But wasting this perfectly good exercise time? Randidly grinned as he kept tight control of his body and observed the crimson static dance along his limbs. He suppressed even the slightest twitch as he brought the wooden mixing spoon into batter and began to whip all of the clumps out of it. His heartbeat was strong and resonant, seeming to hum through his veins with each wave of blood it propelled outward.

Claudette walked into the back portion of their individual stall in the larger tent, her fingers dusted with chalk. Randidly’s lips twitched; the Nexus elite had spent the last ten minutes on her knees with the young girl from the next stand over, learning how to make their own chalkboard menu. Randidly opened his mouth to make a comment about how quickly she took to the work, but the young girl bounced into the room behind Claudette.

Her eyes were bright as she talked excitedly at Claudette’s back. “My drawings look ugly, but you- oh, hi sir.”

The girl regarded Randidly with remarkably intelligent hazel eyes. He had encountered few people who addressed him so directly, fewer still who could meet his gaze, even when he had his images and Nether contained. For a brief moment, he was struck by a vision of a much younger Sydney, from a time when Randidly had often followed her around. But the resemblance was more a projection from him than anything else; the girl didn’t look anything like Sydney. She was just a normal girl, perhaps eight years old, without the slightest taint of images. But despite that, her emotions were clear and vibrant as she looked at him.

“Hello,” Randidly greeted just as politely. It was almost as though his word was permission for the girl to twist back around to Claudette and engage in enthusiastic chatter about the girl’s drawing ability and how her mother taught her to fold dumplings and how she recently discovered that mushrooms aren’t as disgusting as she thought and a half dozen other topics that she skipped through without sweating if the finer points of the discussion were overlooked.

Claudette received it all with a tentative smile, but Randidly could already tell that some of the bleakness in her features had receded. He nodded silently to himself and turned back to his batter. Having a powerful image is important. But that isn’t all of who you are. Sometimes, I almost think the differences between you and the image are the reason that they can be so powerful when you need them.

...or maybe that’s just wishful thinking because I have three. So mine necessarily have to be more divergent from my base personality…

Randidly’s three images chimed in their agreement. He continued to whisk the batter, taking pause whenever exceptionally powerful bursts of electromagnetic energy flooded through his body. He spared a glance for Claudette and the girl, his eyes briefly taking in their whole dynamic. The blonde woman in the maid costume was shyly washing her hands, while the girl very literally beamed positively up at her with her smile. By keeping his senses limited to just the immediate area, he could practically feel the warm waves of enthusiasm wafting off of the girl.

Randidly’s lips curled as he continued to stir the batter. Except her mother might not thank us if we give the kid a fascination with maid costumes…

But the longer that Randidly observed the two’s interactions, the more his smile faded. Instead, his expression turned serious. You know, I’ve known for a while about Aether being primarily constituted of shape and emotion while Nether is all about memory and connection. And with my success against Shal and Techetadore… it’s obvious that most of what I’m missing with my images is mastery of the emotional portion. That’s what I need to improve in order to grow stronger, in the short term.

But while I’ve cultivated significance for my Nether Core and that core possesses the Attribute ‘Connections’, I don’t believe that encompasses the whole of that second aspect of Nether. Looking at this shallow connection forming between Claudette in this girl, there is so much meaning in the way they interact. I’ll need to think about how to incorporate that a bit further-

Congratulations! Your Skill Grit of the Ascendant Bane (T) has grown to Level 421!

Another pulse of energy from the Fatepiece forced Randidly to arch his back. Only his iron Willpower prevented his hand from tightening and snapping his mixing spoon. But then he straightened and calmly continued his task without easing up the physical strain. Once the batter was ready, he set the bowl down and walked over to the five large cauldrons in which Neveah’s specialty stews were bubbling. He lifted the lid off of each and tasted them in turn.

Chicken and rice, cheeseburger, carrot and lentil, beef goulash, and a tomato-based seafood stew. Each clandestine taste had Randidly’s eyebrows rising. He had a pretty refined palate after staying for those weeks with Nrorce, but each flavor delighted and lingered on his tongue. He had a few thoughts about adding some additional spices, but otherwise-

“Checking my work?” Neveah teased as she walked into the back room. She nodded at Claudette, waved at the little girl, then wagged her finger at Randidly. “Should I crack open one of your biscuits and check for eggshells?”

“Maybe I was just hungry,” Randidly chuckled. Then he froze because a familiar yet unfamiliar figure walked through the door behind Neveah. His scaled facial features were stretched into a look of worry, but Randidly knew him. He had the strangest sensation of knowing his entire body, as though the figure in front of him was a suit that he had briefly worn.

A series of quick impressions flashed across his mind. He felt the shaft of an unfamiliar javelin in his hand and the feeling of warm blood dripping down his chest.

Claudette jerked upward with a similar confused recognition as Neveah gestured to the lizardman. “This is D’min. He will be helping out today, up front with Claudette.”

The strangeness of the knowledge Randidly possessed kept him from realizing who this was for several seconds. More impressions flickered through his mind, keeping him from making the connection for several seconds. His mouth worked soundlessly during that time, the repetitive motion driven by a 70/30 split between confusion and random electromagnetic jolts. Then he forced a smile onto his face and sorted his chaotic impressions. So the Lizakh weren’t so made up after all… at least that explains why the details came so easily to me.

Outloud, Randidly spoke to D’min. “Nice to meet you. I believe we’ve had interactions before, although they haven’t been in person. I’m glad to see you are doing alright.”

D’min paled, finally seeming to sense who Randidly had to be. Randidly pivoted back to Neveah. “Aren’t we trying to stay low-key with the two of us here? I believe he’s a pretty famous figure right now-”

“Why are you trying to remain low-key?” The cheerful young girl asked as she rinsed the soap suds from her hands. Randidly offered her hazel eyes a half-shrug even while giving Neveah an exasperated look.

Luckily, Randidly didn’t need to answer. Claudette chuckled and kneeled down next to the girl. “Isn’t the answer obvious? It’s because we have the best soup in the city. If too many people find out at once, our line will be way too long.”

*****

The amorphous barrier billowed and flexed, a woven screen of energy that did its best impression of gauze while almost completely preventing any energy from leaking between the two sides. The glittering and partially transparent wires that supported the barrier only manifested themselves when the barrier was under immense pressure.

In front of them, a dense spiderweb of wires was visible, flaring angrily. Next to Edraine, Velio Dunn stood with his hands raised. The two of them concentrated their images, hers a blast of destructive energy and his a deadly edge, onto the same point in the corner of the barrier. Then they began to press.

Opposite them, the dark-skinned Patron of the Sun fixated his gaze on the same small corner of the barrier. To Edraine’s straining eyes, it simply looked like the man glowed and stared. It didn’t look like the prisoner wanted at all to escape, but she supposed that was most likely due to how effective a barrier it was.

Edraine’s joints creaked as force thundered through her body. The pure and refined kinetic expulsion of her image was reassuring, in a way. Or at least, Edraine had always found it so. Her image was one designed to effect a total destruction, but the single-minded intensity she possessed reassured her. In its simple application, there was beauty.

However, Edraine had never unleashed her image so constantly, so forcefully, for so long in the past. Her image was a muscle that was beginning to spasm and tremble. No self-respecting foe would stand still and allow her to ratchet up the intensity; her image was powerful enough in short bursts.

But whether it was due to overestimation or underestimation of her power on the part of the barrier maker, the glittering wires simply endured the force thrown against it. Next to her Velio Dunn gritted his teeth and hissed out a breath. She could tell that he was close to his limit. Opposite them in the interior of the Sanctum cell, the Patron of the Sun still seemed to study the lattice with intensity, but remained almost casual in his stance.

You woke up for a reason, Edraine told herself. Her image began to twist and warp at the edges. You’ve been training since you were liberated from that depression, but you’ve never pushed yourself. Not truly. Now that we have a test subject that won’t flinch…

She cranked up the force. Energy pumped through her body, popping her joints and causing her veins to swell. Waves of streamlined destruction bounced off of each other with the riotous desire to expand and fill a larger space. With renewed focus, Edraine raised a second hand next to the force to give her a better grip on the unleashed energies. Her Willpower rumbled downward, steamrolling the rippling collisions between the energy pulses and creating one cohesive steam of annihilation.

Edraine corralled the wild wholeness of herself into a space the size of a fist and unleashed that condensed apocalypse on the barrier.

Sweat dripped down her forehead. A breeze seemed to ruffle the wires within the barrier, the first actual result they had generated even after ten minutes of concentrated force. The tendons in Edraine’s fingers and wrists flared outward as she squeezed her image even tighter.

Just a little more… Edraine bit her lip. Her hands began to burn, but the wafting motions of the woven energy barrier were quickening. Opposite them within the cell, the Patron of the Sun began to smile. Edraine urged herself to push harder, ignoring the small, pained complaints of her image that so wished to explosively expand while she forcefully folded it back in on itself.

The flesh at the tips of her fingers began to burn with yellow flames. The pain shouted its arrival across her psyche, but the next moment the barrier groaned and tore-

WHOOOOOOOSSSSSHHHHH!

Edraine hissed and backed hurriedly away, gazing in horror at the bubbling flesh of her arms. Her whole consciousness went glassy, unprepared for the blast of domineering image that came out through the small flaw in the barrier. The self-inflicted pain of flaring her image was nothing compared to the radiation from the Patron of the Sun.

However, she quickly schooled her expression and sent a pulse of her image through her body. It took a few attempts to dislodge the heat from the Patron’s image, but soon her skin began to heal.

A panting Velio Dunn took several steps backward to stand next to Edraine. “That… thank you. Without you, I am not sure that I would have been able to disturb the barrier enough to make the Patron’s attempts matter.”

Edraine simply inclined her head. Because in front of them, the Patron of the Sun reached down and seized the edge of the ripped barrier. Through the opening, the golden radiance of his image seemed out and stained the surrounding space; suddenly the interior of the Sanctum was more well lit. Like he was yanking apart denim, the Patron tore and soon a fluttering gash appeared in the barrier.

“S-sir Patron,” Velio licked his lips. The worshipful look was back on his face. “I have so many questions for you-”

“Your questions can wait,” The Patron of the Sun stepped slowly through the gap. Outside of the cell, some of his luminous, internal radiance left him. He simply seemed like a teenage boy. But the frown on his face was deep, even as he sucked in a deep breath and savored it. “Someone is attempting to sway the faith of the last of my people. And if it were not for a threat to them… I would not have forcefully liberated myself. Before anything else, we much find the remains of the Lizakh and reward them for their faith in me.”

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