The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Tykes tried to build up more momentum for his powerful image, but the webs became an increasing problem. The spider hadn’t stopped its frantic weaving since the start of the fight. Illdan could understand the man’s plight. He could force his way through, but it would open himself up to attacks from the packs of werewolves Glendel now sent against him or make him vulnerable to strikes from the chimera; already, one of Tykes’ ears had been cut off as it aimed to get rid of his other eye.

The grey patches on Tykes' skin were growing larger as more and more of those flame projectiles landed on him. It wasn’t that they weakened him, per se, but they slowed him down. That unstoppable strength that Tykes exuded earlier in the fight was steadily being suppressed by the cruelty of the Sovereign of Ghosts.

More than a duel, this seemed like some elongated torture session.

Tykes ripped his way out of more webs, but the chimera cut off one of his fingers.

He took several steps forward and strengthened his image, but then had to stop as the spectral werewolves surrounded him and pounced from every direction. He swayed to avoid the worst of the damage and his overwhelming hands tore them to shreds, but he bled from more wounds. The chimera summoned more flames as it watched the entire process, eyes glittering.

Tykes accelerated forward, activating some Skill to force his way through several webs in quick succession, but the spider paused its web making long enough to spit out a barbed projectile from its mouth. The chimera allowed Tykes to bring a fist against its elbow and obliterate the joint to make sure that the attack embedded itself deep in his thigh.

His next few steps were fine, but then a noticeable limp emerged in his movements.

This is a chess match. A true battle between images, Illdan’s expression was serious as he looked down at the arena. He was very, very glad he had bothered to come and watch. These two didn’t quite possess the acuity of his own image, but it was a close thing. And both had experience fighting with their lives on the line. Although they are ostensibly fighting, they are also battling over the mental space in the arena. They are arguing which is more powerful, the strength of the sovereign, or the strength of an individual…

Each move is almost a demonstration, an offered proof…

Illdan spared a glance for the Ghosthound, wondering what Alpha Cosmos’ most powerful warrior thought of the conflict. But although interest was present in the Ghosthound’s face, Illdan could discern nothing else.

The crowd roared, drawing Illdan’s attention back to the battle. Tykes ball shot forward at Glendel from where it had cracked the arena in its meteor-like descent earlier; Tykes must have realized the current situation wasn’t advantageous for him and decided to stop holding back. Even now, that ball amped up the image of strength, giving it even more reach.

But Glendel’s fingers just continued their fluid dance in response. A carriage-sized turtle blinked into existence between them, twisting its body so the shell was angled toward the ball. The impact shook the arena, but the massive iron sphere was deflected sideways, where it skidded a bit across the arena. And even though the turtle coughed up blood, its shell hadn’t shattered.

It twisted its head and glared hatefully at Tykes.

The chimera didn’t miss the opportunity, thrusting its hand forward and drilling a small hole in the thick muscles around Tykes neck. A little to the right and it would have plucked out his jugular.

Finally, Tykes’ expression began to change. His face warped in barely controlled fury. But in the face of that anger, the Sovereign's image became even clearer. Bright became its baleful crown. It looked down on the struggling man with a determined distaste. It’s stark features seemed almost offended by Tykes’ continued attempts to resist its will.

Tykes jerked his hand, pulling his iron orb back toward his person. As he did so, Illdan’s eyes narrowed. Because the corner of the sovereign’s mouth twisted in triumph.

As the ball ripped back toward Tykes, not only did the chimera open another deep gash in Tykes’ chest, but the spider raised its legs and twisted. The previously separate spread webs it had thrown across the arena spiraled together in one massive web, tightening around the iron ball as the weapon passed by and almost casually turned the spider into a spectral skidmark.

The momentum the iron ball possessed was vast, but so many webs gummed up its movements. Wrapped as it as, it swelled to double its previous size and quickly slowed, a small portion of the webs being torn as it bled speed, but not enough to eliminate all the impediments. The ball stopped, still entirely blanketed in the sticky substance, halfway between Glendel and Tykes.

Glendel’s eyes blazed in challenge. Tykes’ eyes narrowed. For the third time, they shared a meaningful glance, made especially heavy by the fact that there was almost nothing between the two of them. Yet while Tykes’ image of power continued to wither, the Sovereign’s will spread-

Tykes did something strange. As the chimera aimed to decapitate him, he leaned forward and pressed his hands against the ground- no, he forcefully dug his fingers into-

Illdan and the entire crowd around him jolted. For a second, Illdan hung mid-air, tossed off the ground as though the entire world beneath his feet had bucked like a wild bronco. His eyes widened, as he hung in that moment of weightlessness, his eyes going to Tykes’ fingers into the ground. That- could he actually have enough strength to just shake an entire planet?

It seemed like the effect was even greater in the arena. The chimera collapsed, one of its legs caught under it at an odd angle as it tried to hit the crouching Tykes. The sudden movement of the ground shattered its knee. Glendel’s arms windmilled as he floated in the air, trying to regain his balance.

And in that space, Tykes aura of power once more rose with a swift certainty. He straightened and bounded forward. Glendel moved to summon more ghosts, but Tykes arrived first. His hand closed around his opponent’s throat.

A fourth glance was exchanged while the audience landed from their brief jolt. His shoulders sagging, Glendel lowered his arms and surrendered.

*****

“Do you know why you lost?” Randidly asked Glendel as he leaned back and felt the wind twirling around his finger. He had taken to bringing chairs to this dream space, in which they were currently reclining. After coming here thousands of times, it began to get old just sitting in the grass.

Randidly was getting on in years. He began to appreciate some small creature comforts.

Glendel sighed. “Well, yes. There are a few reasons. I’ve put a lot of work sharpening my image… but I think Tykes understood better the way Skills and images work synergistically to create wondrous effects. That last Skill, riding on the purest form of his image… I wasn’t prepared for that sort of move. I didn’t even know it was possible.

“A similar problem is the fact that I’m very balanced. There are a lot of situations in which my diverse Skills can do a lot of good. Narrowed to a single battlefield, a face-off between two individuals… a lot of my utility vanishes. I need to sharpen a main weapon of my own, a way my image can compete with other powerful individuals.”

Randidly nodded. Honestly, his thoughts had been slightly different than Glendel’s, but he had learned that most losers didn’t really want to hear his advice, not truly. What they needed was for their own feelings to be unwound from a tight ball in their chest and released into the air. They needed to feel heard.

So Randidly sat, looking out over the river, letting all Glendel’s emotions be filtered through his dense significance. He hoped that a better man would emerge on the other side. One who appreciates the need for power, but wouldn’t let it warp him into a monster of violence.

Eventually, Glendel shook his head. “Well, there is a bigger problem. I wanted to test myself, sure, but… I didn’t hold much tenacity toward winning the tournament. Realizing these things about myself and knowing how to improve are enough for the current me.”

“Not very competitive?” Randidly tilted his head to the side. “It’s a bit late for me to tell you this, but there will be some unique prizes for this tournament. Prizes definitely worth your time.”

Glendel glanced sideways at Randidly quickly, a hummingbird alighting to dip its beak in a flower, then away. “It’s not that. But… just that I’m scared of you, Randidly. If I went up onto the stage to fight you again, I don’t think I’d be able to manage it.”

Randidly paused, unsure of what to say to that. Inwardly, he felt a new sort of exhaustion creeping through him.

After speaking to the rest of the round’s losers, Randidly went back to his house with a strained ache in his head. Immediately after he arrived, he paused; the swirling movements of the moonlight sprites revealed that someone was present in his room, someone that they liked quite a bit.

He opened the door with a smile. “Neveah, to what do I owe the honor?”

Neveah looked up as he entered, poised as though she was sitting on a chair of the moonlight spirits. At Randidly’s entrance, they erupted, revealing that she had been simply crouching in the air; from the zooming way the spirits flew around the room, they found this to be incredibly amusing.

Neveah straightened and waved. “I had some news I wished to share with you. And I thought it best that I deliver it as quickly as possible.”

Randidly’s stomach fell out of his ribcage. “Then the Patron of Feathers-”

“No, not that,” Neveah raised her hands. She hopped several long steps forward and wrapped her arms around Randidly. He blinked, but then relaxed into her embrace, marveling in her Skill with illusions that all he felt was a slender humanoid. Then she leaned back and gave him a wry smile. “Also, partially to thank you. Not only is the news mostly good, but you are entirely responsible for it?”

When Randidly quirked an eyebrow up, Neveah continued. “The Nemesai. They came over to my home a few days ago with several volumes' worth of Engraving research that they had possessed. Not of the modern Engraving methods, as you know they don’t match Yystrix’s work, but old stuff. Early Third Cohort workings that they had access to. With it, I’ve managed to make some serious progress, specifically in one area of Yystrix’s tomb. But with that progress, I found something very interesting: at the core of it all is another letter and one of the most complex Engraving’s I’ve ever seen, inlaid beneath all the training Engravings.”

Randidly’s skin prickled. An old fear, one that he had thought buried, stirred within his chest. Almost unbidden, the eyes of the Grey Creature cracked. “Then did she-”

“Oh shush,” Neveah squeezed him tight again. “Nothing like some last trap. I can only discern a few words, but the word ‘child’ is definitely present. Figuring out the rest will probably take me years; I’ll need to understand her entire Engraving method. But in the meantime… what sort of massive Engraving would Yystrix leave us that has to do with Pine?”

Randidly’s eyes flashed as his thoughts began to spin. Very slowly “Huh. Maybe… one last fuck you to her ex-husband who has decided to kill the son keeping the whole Nexus running. Maybe, if we are lucky, something that we can actually use to make a difference.”

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