The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

“As expected of the Commissioner…”

“On his first ball, on a completely new alley!?”

“Not even a test throw.”

“Truly, that feeble image seed was exactly what the ball needed… did you notice how it hit the pins only physically? Sublime.”

“Just watching him, I feel like a better bowler.”

The peanut gallery of powerful trainers launched into their usual ridiculous praises, causing the fat beads of sweat on Arrietti’s back to multiply. He could imagine Selene’s sigh when she saw how sweaty he had become. Obviously, he had just thrown a ball casually without thought. Obviously, his image seed had been wiped out by the storm because his image was comparatively weak. Obviously, his success was a result of circumstance and luck.

His eyes followed the movements of some other trainers as they set the pins back up in record time. He also knew that admitting his inadequacies wouldn’t matter; they’d ignore him and-

A trumpeting peel carried over the small hill, cutting off the panic-inducing cycle of his thoughts. When he raised his gaze, his eyes bulged to see that the number of ants on the top of the hill had multiplied while he had thrown the ball; he could see at least a hundred new ants, their carapaces suddenly seeming quite serrated and intimidating, standing in orderly rows above the bowling lanes.

Two rather slender ants with oddly shaped pincers raised their heads and released another clear trumpet blast from their mouths. It was difficult to see the movements of the ants from the lower elevation, but the whole formation began to shift. Then, from between those two unique ants came a third ant that seemed to settle over the scene like morning mist.

The typical ants had a dark, reddish brown carapice. But this one had a creamy pink exterior that seemed to glitter. It had wings, long, translucent wings, but they appeared so delicate that it flapped behind the ant like a gauze cape rather than implements of flight. Compared to the other ants, its limbs were more slender and delicate, its eyes closer together above a mouth with smaller mandibles.

It looks like an ant’s attempt to make itself look more human, Arrietti was struck by this sudden thought as he looked at its delicate and purposeful steps. It descended down the hill, the two trumpet ants remaining behind but a burly and oversized ant with curling horns acting as a guard.

That ant huffed dangerously and shook its head from side to side, seeming to look for an outlet for its aggression.

The lead ant reached the bottom, under the watchful gaze of all the powerful individuals, and serenely drifted forward. Its wings undulated softly. Its thin limbs carried it up to the place holding the bowling balls. It reached out with a foreleg and picked one up. After testing the weight, the ant moved against; the crowd parted and allowed it to walk up to the front of a lane.

After a decidedly haughty glance at Arrietti, the ant scuttled forward and threw the ball awkwardly sidearm down the lane. But to the watchers surprise, the side-arm thrown ball rapidly began to adjust its vector, until it slammed into the pins and knocked down nine.

Immediately, the trumpeters began a waxing note of victory. The hundreds of ants started slamming their feet up and down with such ferocity that Arrietti worried that the hill would collapse on top of them. But just as the ants seemed willing to work themselves up into a fever pitch, their bowler screeched in fury and waved its forelegs aggressively. At once, the other ants all fell silent. Its guard released a plaintive huff.

Rubbing its antenna together, the bowling ant waited for the overseers at the end of the lane to clear away the knocked over pins and then easily picked up the spare with another sidearm throw. Then the ant tilted its head to the side and regarded Arrietti once more with a fixed stare.

“It wants to play a match,” The winged woman eventually said into the silence.

More and more sweat accumulated on Arrietti’s back as the group agreed that he was the only logical opponent.

*****

Randidly rubbed his neck awkwardly as the three of them sat in silence after his words. Right before the cooking for the event was set to kick off, he had met with Tatiana and Sydney, almost coincidentally. He hadn’t even known that the latter was going to be there. Yet somehow her presence pushed him to reveal his whole thought process regarding Vualla. Before he could stop himself, he had dumped out all those furtive emotions and his hidden anxieties.

And now, with both women looking at him-

Tatiana broke the silence with a theatrical sigh. “You know, for the most powerful individual on Expira, your drama is decidedly bland. The least you could do is have Vualla be spending more and more time with her attractive, older, slightly sadistic instructor. Nexus renowned for his discipline. Their long training sessions and her distance afterward is starting to bother you…”

Despite her coolness toward Randidly since the issues with Drake, Sydney couldn’t keep a small smile from stretching itself across her face as she looked at Tatiana. “Oh, if I saw that at a bookstore I’d definitely pick it up. Have you read the new one by Delilah Ryth? Her work is… savory. The man’s Class is literally Bull.”

Randidly looked helplessly between the two of them. “I was being serious, you know?”

Instantly, both quieted their tittered and knowing glances. Tatiana gestured with her hand in what might have been dismissive or helpless. “Yes, we don’t mean to be insensitive. But Randidly… how could you not see this happening? And with how gradually and naturally it happened, its difficult to understand how deeply you care about drifting apart. This is what happens to relationships that you don’t put effort into.”

Randidly opened his mouth and closed it. He supposed if it was truly a heartbreaking event, he would have noticed before the connection between them had waned to such a state. He could only sigh and shake his head.

“Actually, I might be able to add some insight,” Sydney said slowly. “I knew Randidly when he was younger, after all. And Randidly… you always had too much… faith. I don’t know if there is another word for it.

“Not that you were religious. But you always had this certainty that even when you didn’t interact with the people in your life, the portion of the relationship they held in their hearts would move in the same way that yours would. Or if nothing happened, it would endure, just as yours would. Perhaps even more damning in our case, you had faith that the emotions you felt were what you thought they were. And because of that… I suspect that you believed it unnecessary to really dig into those emotions and unpack what they actually were.”

“Faith,” Tatiana mused. “I can sorta see it. There is an idyllic naivety to Randidly that let’s you focus on your training-”

“Hey now,” Randidly winced. And luckily for him, Neveah’s arrival stopped that discussion. But she drew herself up to her full height and glanced around, blonde hair shining in the warm tropical sun. Then she grinned around.

“You know what we should have done for a little extra drama? And especially if you are feeling concerned about your love life, Randidly.” Neveah’s eyes were full of playful mirth. “We should have had a Dating Game with Randidly as the grand prize!”

Everyone froze. Randidly in a strange sort of self-conscious horror, the others with a swiftly ripening field of ideas arrayed in front of them.

“Oh my,” Tatiana covered her mouth with her hand, caught somewhere between coughing and laughing. She blinked several times. “We would definitely have gotten some fascinating applicants. A date with the most powerful man in the world, a night on a private island, either floating or on the sea-”

“And rumored to be the richest, too. And with incredible political influence. And known to teach other individuals and swiftly make them much more powerful than they had been in the past,” Sydney began listing things off and raising fingers as she spoke. Then she narrowed her eyes at those raised fingers, as though an answer waited within the thin digits. “Honestly, just having a connection with Randidly Ghosthound puts you in contact with Kharon, the Order Ducis, and a lot of the original leadership of Donnyton. People might even be tempted to go out for it for job reasons.”

Neveah reached out and put her hands on Tatiana and Sydney’s shoulders. Her violet eyes danced. “And with the three of us, we’d probably whittle down to a list of excellent candidates. You are half of my soul, after all, so I can’t have you spending the rest of your life with someone boring or mooning after someone who doesn’t even notice you are gone.”

“I’m… not willing to do that.” Randidly shook his head emphatically.

“Ah, really?” Neveah released an aggrieved expression. “I’ve actually already thought of a good candidate! What about that cloud sculptor, from that greek Bubble City? And from all accounts, she’s absolutely radiant.”

“Isn’t she a bit… old for Randidly?” Sydney’s lips twitched.

Neveah considered that. “She’s in her mid-thirties… or was before the System arrived. But she came out of her bubble relatively late, and with how much time Randidly has spent in time dilated areas-”

The two continued to animatedly discuss this woman’s compatibility with him. Tatiana patted Randidly on the shoulder as he stared at them with a pale face. “Relax and let them have their fun. In the end, I would be the one who had to plan such an event… and I’m having a stress headache just thinking about all the arguments we’d have to have to narrow down the applicant pool. If anything, you are too juicy a target for something like this. Fame and power comes with a price.”

“I really…” Randidly shook his head again, but now a small smile was starting to form on his face. At the very least, these conversations had distracted him from the lingering dissatisfaction he felt about the Vualla situation. “I really don’t know how to feel when you call me ‘too juicy’.”

“Do you know how many times a week men contrive to put themselves in my path?” Tatiana said. “Or they cast Skills or hexes related to love on me from afar and try to draw me toward them? It’s tapers off while Kharon is moving, but every time we stop a few more manage to finagle themselves aboard the Wandering City. The worst sort of cockroaches. Most of the time they are selfish and I don’t mind crushing back their image to teach them a lesson, but some are well-meaning. They’ve seen me from afar and have been carrying a torch for a while. And I’m just the mayor of Kharon; Randidly, you are the head of the Dragon.”

Sydney joined their conversation too, even though her expression is reluctant. “Even now the world changed and the System, human beings still love the mystery of a fantastic life different than our own. A peek into the orbit of a ‘special’ being. We even have words for it: your Nether has a magnetism that can’t be replicated. All the things you’ve accomplished, all your victories, your interactions with other worlds and the Nexus… go to anywhere on Expira right now, offer a young woman a hand, and tell her that you can change her life for a night. I think you’d very rarely find someone who would say no.”

Randidly’s heart twinged for a second, only partially because of what the three women were saying to him, but because he abruptly felt how right they were. Not about his appeal to the average woman on Expira, which was a prospect he didn’t dare consider too deeply, but the way his whole being was affected by what he had accomplished. People saw him differently.

His mundane actions were part of a pattern.

In a way, I always considered myself a maestro. His eyes widened and unfocused. His Nether Core rapidly accelerated, building to something profound. That I manipulated the patterns and the energies originated from me. But it’s not that simple. I am the pattern. The way I move and breath and act and feel… All those aspects are part of a pattern.

That’s why the Nether King seemed to birth those organic swirls without effort. Because it was the pattern incarnate, a moving symphony of cascading organic brushes. If I can achieve that-

Congratulations! Your Skill Left Hand of the Nether Oracle (M) has grown to Level 683!

Congratulations! Your Skill Right Hand of the Nether Polymath (M) has grown to Level 675!

A tremor ran through his Nether Core. One of the shadows within it began to stir. -if I can integrate that fully, then I think I’ll finally figure out how to keep improving my Nether Core.

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