The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

“Everyone ready?” Claudette asked the other two as they walked down the corridor. Although most needed to go to the highest central point at the Nexus to use the portal to Alymian, they approached one of the calm courtyards of the Beigon Estate to use a private entrance. For whatever reason, Claudette felt her spine straightening as she saw the brief hesitation that flashed across Yust’s face as she asked the question. Her resolve firmed. Knowing that she wasn’t the only one who was worried about how this party would go make her feel slightly more in control.

Although if he fails, his teacher’s rival will just continue to live without worry in the Nexus, If Claudette’s heart hadn’t been encased in ice, she might have felt dread as she considered the possible consequences. Meanwhile, if I fail-

“It has been quite a while since I’ve been to Alymian,” Neshamah said out loud. Then she shook her head. “If I’m being honest… I don’t like being there. I know the experience is part of the appeal, but that feeling of weakness still makes me uncomfortable.”

“Let’s do it quickly then,” Claudette said with false cheer. There was a single spirit standing guard at the private entrance to Alymian, absolutely still during their brief conference. Only when Claudette stepped forward and offered the three invitations did the spirit raise its insubstantial arm and absorb the material. Behind it, a strange whirlpool of energy appeared in the air, tinted at the edges by darkness while the central portion began to glow with a golden light.

Claudette led the way, stepping through the threshold. She stepped through the doorway that would probably determine the rest of her life. The transition was not an easy one.

The process of heading to Alymian is akin to being squeezed by a vice so you can be stuffed through a keyhole. Claudette’s breath steadily escaped her mouth and nose, forced out of her by the chaotic stream of energy that connected the two universes. The Nexus was governed by one set of laws while Alymian was governed by another, altogether much more strict, set of laws. The chilling song of Clarent began to steadily recede within her, leaving Claudette with only her body and her dress. All other excess had been compressed out of existence.

In that brief moment of transfer, Claudette had been reduced to almost a normal person. The usual entrance tickets to Alymian would do exactly that- completely suppress your connection to all of the various improvements that Aether allowed in your body. Even your images were impossible to manifest.

These invitations were a bit more forgiving. The slightest echo of your images and powers remained. Just enough that you couldn’t forget what you had lost. It would not all be posturing when a powerful individual arrogantly regarded the other attendees at the Don’s party.

Obviously, travelers weren’t permanently weakened; you would regain access to all the benefits Aether had given you when you returned to the Nexus, but many used Alymian as a way to separate themselves from their image, so they could return and view what they had made with fresh eyes. But at the moment, the restriction only made Claudette’s anxiety worse.

After that hanging moment of squeezing, Claudette stumbled forward. Her fancy shoes sank into warm sand, almost causing her to topple over. Only after a strained sway did she recover her balance. She released a breath, her expression turning bitter as she looked around at the gorgeous pink sand beach, dyed further by the sun sinking below the sea on the horizon. The sound of waves crashing against the beach and softly rushed away felt so familiar. The few clouds that lingered in the wide blue sky were painted orange and maroon.

Here, of all places...

She looked over toward the venue, a massive tiki bar built on bamboo stilts so it could sprawl halfway out past the shoreline and into the domain of the sea. Water rushed and frothed around the support structure. Coconut and palm trees swayed in the evening breeze while some of her father’s workers carried hunks of wood to a space a little further up the beach, where they were making the preparations for a massive bonfire later in the night.

You really had to pick this place? Even through the suppression of Alymian, Clarent hummed with tightly contained fury. Behind her, Neshamah and Yust arrived, with Yust yelping and collapsing face-first into the sand. But even that sudden display couldn’t shake the foul mood that gripped her.

When she was a child, this beach had been Claudette’s favorite spot. Even now, it reminded her of her mother.

Small bolts of electricity crackled off of Neshamah’s body, snapping Claudette out of her thoughts. At her questioning glance, Neshamah shrugged. “When I come to Alymian, it is a bit more… complicated than usual. Don’t worry about it, the effect will soon fade.”

“Fuck,” Yust cursed as he stood and frantically tried to brush the sand off of his suit. Perhaps to purposefully distract herself, Claudette snorted and patted his shoulder in sympathy. She shucked off her extremely expensive, high-heeled shoes and walked barefoot through the warm sand.

A pair of attractive women pushed aside the long strings of yellow and pink flowers that served as a door for the dwelling. Right through the entrance sat her father, looking more like a beach bum than the man of the hour. Despite the tension between them, Claudette couldn’t help quirking an eyebrow upward. “Didn’t you say this was a formal occasion? Also, you are here greeting guests at the door?”

“I’m the exception that proves the rule,” Don Beigon grinned up at her. He wore a bright shirt and shorts, but his beard had been braided into a complicated pattern that oozed the smallest bit of power. He had never shared the secret, but Claudette knew that the woven hairs contained an Engraving that allowed him to retain a small pinch more of his Nexus power in Alymian than anyone else. “But no, I shall soon leave. I know you are compulsively on time, dearest, so I waited for you here; most of the rest of the guests will probably not arrive for half an hour.”

Claudette looked around at the empty tiki bar, feeling slightly bitter inside. The words felt strange in her throat as she spoke to her father. She felt a strange bit of fear that they would catch and she would choke. Should have just waited for Randidly… “Ah, I forgot. Your guests are far too powerful to arrive when they said they would.”

“Such is the charm of the ruling class. Your word can mean nothing, without any consequences.” The Don patted his chest with a warm smile. But then his expression shifted and he looked directly at Claudette. “Do you like it?”

She knew what her father was talking about, even without any further explanation. But she couldn’t bring herself to answer, one way or another. Too many complicated emotions were tied up in this location, even before the added complication that her father now wanted to auction her off here. She remained silent, even as Neshamah and Yust moved to stand behind her. The workers watched the scene from the background, cherubic smiles on their faces.

“...well then,” The Don said lightly, even as she sensed his weariness. She didn’t let that shake her resolve. He didn’t deserve a response, based on how he had controlled the situation. “I just wanted you to know, this is for you.”

“You-” Claudette hissed between her teeth, but she stopped herself. The Don waited to see if she would finish that sentence, then smiled and shook his head. He wheeled himself around and left, leaving the three of them standing in the entrance.

And strangely, Claudette realized something looking at her father’s back. His tired determination reminded her… of Randidly Ghosthound. They both lived in a world where failure meant they would be devoured. For all the sins that her father had committed, she knew that most of them were precisely so she wouldn’t have to live the same sort of tense lifestyle that he had.

And yet-

“Champagne?” A cheery, shirtless man with a tray of drinks walked up to the trio. Claudette blinked to see that almost a dozen other servers were eyeing the man with envy; after all, they were the only guests that had arrived so far. To the Alymian natives that her father had trained, nothing was more important than being a good host.

Without a word, Claudette took two glasses and chugged the first one. A warm, bubbly feeling took up residence in her stomach.

Neshamah watched the display carefully, taking a glass but not drinking from it. “Is this… a good idea? Since we are in Alymian and our Stats are suppressed back to base levels, you’ll actually be able to get drunk.”

“But when the competition actually starts, our power will be restored.” She put the empty glass back on the smiling waiter’s tray, but only sipped the second. Claudette shook out her hair, so it glittered in a river of molten gold down her back. “I need at least this much if I’m going to make it to the competition without tearing someone’s head off.”

The trio drifted to one of the long tables of food and picked at small plates for the next hour, when the rest of the guests began to arrive. Perhaps it was the several flutes of champagne that she had imbibed, but Claudette needed to raise a hand to cover her mouth as more and more people began to arrive, about half having fallen prey to the sudden lack of power and precarious footing combination just as Yust had.

I have no doubt that father planned it this way, Claudette thought almost wistfully as she saw the usually perfect elite of the Nexus looking disheveled. A powerful Pinnacle Seeker with gold horns growing out of his head still had particles of sand stuck behind his ears as he stomped toward the food tables and began to devour whole steaks, holding them above his head and letting them slide down his throat with no perceptible swallowing. A few early arriving women wearing NLC badges watched the man and tittered, even though two of the three had also arrived with sand in their green hair.

As the time approached the hour and a half mark past when the party was supposed to begin, individuals began to arrive more quickly. And finally, the first of the three targets of the group walked into the pavilion.

Kyl MacDuul, a squat retired Military High Command Commandant, was unfortunately not one of the arrivals that had fallen. His beady eyes immediately scanned the crowd, alighting briefly on Claudette as though to confirm she was present and then looking around. Finding neither her father nor his competitors, his expression settled on disinterest. He waddled forward, previously arrived Military High Command members moving to his side to greet him.

The second arrival was the old monster of Tier III Citizenship. Tyune had waxy grey skin and the slender body of a preteen. He looked around in much of the same way but didn’t even acknowledge Claudette. He moved to a corner and refused all the trays brought to him by the servers. He produced two small needed and appeared to be knitting an extremely small set of clothes.

The bloodthirsty Moonlight Blade arrived last, followed by a single servant. The tall wolfman grinned around at the gathering, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Finally, his eyes settled on Claudette, remaining there for much longer than the other two. His hunger was obvious as he looked at her.

Would that sort of man keep me safe, father? Claudette’s eyes blazed. Do you really have the gall to look me in the eye and say this is all for me?

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