The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

When they reached the thirty-fourth floor, the group agreed to spend some time resting without any spoken communication. They moved apart and made themselves comfortable. This ring was a land of clouds, the group sitting on a fluffy and majestic cumulonimbus that drifted in a sea of similar masses of water vapor. Around them, various other forms of cloud drifted back and forth. A warm sun greeted them all.

He even looked over the edge, but no ground was visible. This was just a land of sky.

For a bit Randidly stood at attention, waiting to see the attitude of the owner of the ring to their presence. But the sky around them remained still. An intermittent wind swept a few clouds back and forth, but that was it. Gradually, he relaxed his guard and focused his attention inward, even if he periodically took deep sniffs with his Nether nose to make sure that nothing could sneak up on the group.

First, Randidly spent some time shoring up the performance of his Nether Core. After the drain from the tattoo and then pushing so much Nether into Yuroach, the rotations had become unstable. At times like this, Randidly almost regretted giving back Solomon’s Penance, hidden cost or no. He had an inkling of how he could go about forming his own, but that was a time investment he couldn’t afford, even with the Patron of Feathers slowing her deterioration.

Instead, Randidly just ran his mind back through the journey he took to get here. The weight of his history had created him, and it would sustain him now.

His world, invaded by the System. The Dungeon. Meeting Shal, returning to his homeworld, then traveling afar to Tellus. Another return, the Raid Dungeon, then connecting to the other Zones and dealing with the uneasy politics. The struggles against Yystrix’s plots, the steady expansion of the connected Zones, the founding of Expira. Returning to Tellus.

Going to the frontlines and finally stepping into the Nexus, after years of battles and struggles. The shaft. Developing a Nether Core, integrating his Soulskill with Expira, creating the Alpha Cosmos. New enemies, the Swacc Family and Velio Dunn. Commandant Wick.

Helen’s death. The loss of the Ghosthound’s First Knight.

Expanding his internal universe. Facing a few of Elhume’s fists in his attempts to protect the original Patrons. Preparing his universe for the possible eventualities of his own failure. Now, seeking answers about Elhumes past, for some clue about how to overcome him in the present.

Significance and flames of Nether Weight danced through his body. At moments like this, he could feel the supernatural composition of himself. The mass of Aether, the images, an entire isolated universe, all within and without. A Nether Core, an edge, the event horizon, the stretch of iris around an infinitely dense pupil.

Randidly opened his eyes. His memories had stabilized the flow of Nether through his core, even strengthening it slightly. Just as he felt a little bit of relief, a chime echoed out from the Dreamcatcher of the Long Night. A particular memory of Sydney’s demanded his attention. Some of that fire from the Stillborn Phoenix began to stir, those emotions quickly rising to the surface.

Randidly shook his head in the face of the request. Not yet, not now.

In a way, the Grey Creature understood. At least, it understood how much other benefits he was getting, so it eased back and allowed the fury to sink into embers of resentment.

For a bit, he spent some time honing his images. Again, the quality of the image training had taken a step forward at this higher ring. As evidenced by the gorgeous, glittering cloudscape around them, the fineness and acuity of the extra depth in the Sonara had increased. He visualized his earlier activations of his various Skills, moving through each of his images. Skill Levels came so easily it almost felt like cheating. Most notably, a focus on Darkness Withers the Horizon and the Waiting Carrion Grins earned him almost a hundred Levels in a half hour.

It was a Skill he hadn’t polished in a while, greatly aided by the sensation of unleashing it and striking such a blow against Yuroach.

Still, the speed was ludicrous with the aid of the location. This reaction even came from Randidly, who had cheated his way through the System his entire experience. A third Mille might be impressive outside the Sonara, but he wondered whether some of these individuals had reached two thousand on their core Skills. Certainly, the solidity of Yuroach’s abilities had been difficult to overcome.

Randidly came out of his training meditation and looked around. As the sun moved across the sky, the air began to turn golden. Pullas muttered to herself and used her finger to draw shapes into the cloud ground beneath them. Xershi paced back and forth, some of the fire of battle lingering in his eyes. Across on the far side of their cloud island, Fiona lay face down without moving.

Randidly reached down and tentatively touched the ‘ground’. It was just cool mist at first, but when you applied pressure, it solidified into a springy substance; actually lying down on top of the cloud was probably quite refreshing.

He cleared his throat, his mind on the fight against Yuroach. “I have a question that might sound… rather strange to you long time citizens of the Nexus.”

Pullas and Xershi paused in their activities and looked at him. Even Fiona lifted her head slightly off of the puffy cloud. Randidly continued forward. “Why is it that so few individuals make use of their Fates in the Nexus?”

Pullas tapped her chin after thinking for a few seconds. “The easiest answer is that not very many individuals are lucky enough to obtain a Fate that they can use in battle. They do utilize their own Fates, but most of that usage isn’t witnessed by other parties. They are only brought out privately.”

“Besides, isn’t a Grand Fate more important?” Xershi folded his arms. “When your Class and Fate are both finished, you begin gathering Levels in that manner. Obviously, your speed of improvement is much slower, but at least your victories bring you spoils.”

Fiona grunted as she lowered herself back into the cloud bedding so that her voice for her input to the answer was slightly muffled. “Heh, to think the actions of this old woman would set your mind to thinking about this. What Xershi’s… very focused answer dances around is the fact that Fates can sometimes be transition pieces. Ways that you choose to guide your image may change as you age and find your answer. Occasionally, a Fate is left behind or completely abandoned.”

“Or even kept back, as a last resort weapon,” Pullas added. “I know many Nexus figures prefer that their Fates not be known.”

“Not everyone can have the specter of an undefined word floating around, to ward off evil spirits,” Fiona said. “They need to manufacture their own boogeymen.”

Randidly blinked; he had almost forgotten about Ghasthund, the word waiting for a definition by injecting his images into it. But doing it now seemed especially foolish, both because of the hanging threat it could provide and because of how quickly his images were improving. The answers the group provided were ones he had already thought of, which left Randidly slightly dissatisfied.

In the end, the System created by the Nexus is rather haphazard. He thought. Different types of abilities and methods layered on top of one another, with no real concern with how they interact. All to take advantage of the populations of these disparate worlds, harvesting the energy and ideas of the unfortunate souls who have fallen under its sway.

After resting for a bit, the group continued. The owner of the cloud ring continued to let them pass through, unimpeded. They sailed from buoyant cloud to buoyant cloud, watching as the sun sunk toward the horizon and bled across the entire sky. And when it had finally slipped below the edge of the horizon, the clouds beneath their feet became pillows of midnight, with the brightest stars that Randidly had ever seen dancing across the sky.

“Gorgeous,” Pullas stopped quite often to gawk up at the stars. “I-- well, not that I haven’t seen beautiful images, but I had no idea… immersive it can all seem. I feel like I’m truly out in a nebula, even if this is only an image projection.”

“You are easily impressed,” Xershi teased.

Randidly glanced up at the glistening tapestry of far-off celestial bodies. If he was being honest, he was more on the Pullas camp for this one. Not because of the immaculately spun quality of the starlight, which was indeed impressive. Or the variety of size and colors amongst the stars, so that each meandering look discovered a new, impressive cluster.

No, what won Randidly’s approval was the intricate movements his sharp senses picked up. This wasn’t just some painting; these different stars existed, albeit not on the scale of the actual universe. The ring wasn’t large enough for that. But the creator of this place had somehow rigged the sky with the complex interplay of gravitational forces of actual space. For a bit, Randidly followed the complex, organic patterns in the sky.

When he felt satisfied that he had learned all he could from this individual, Randidly continued to train his images. Skill Levels continued to flow easily to him, as he focused his efforts on the lowest of his core Skills.

It was almost a disappointment to arrive at the edge of the ring and begin to ascend through the exterior stairwell. As they rose, the group seemed to twitch as one and turn around. In the sky behind them, a massive swan alighted on a distant cloud and observed their departure. Randidly offered the mysterious swan a bow, then continued to climb.

The next few rings were similarly devoid of any resistance. Well, aside from the rapid increase in the size of each ring. Which gave him more time to hone his images, but brought back his worries about the Patron of Feathers.

The thirty-fifth floor was a massive swamp, leaving Randidly to idly make lilypad pathways so he didn’t have to feel leeches and skittering bugs moving between his toes. The size was such that Randidly suspected a small planet could be dropped into this place and within a few years would have sunk completely into the mud.

The thirty-sixth floor was a series of subterranean caverns. Actually, there was some minor resistance here: from goblin-faced locals who inhabited the place. Xershi happily massacred any who came to close, giving Randidly time to hone the details of the still-unruly Grey Creature.

This ring was particularly aggravating because they went down as much as they spread out toward the edge of the ring. At some point, Randidly decided to ignore the tunnels and rip his way forcefully through the ground. It took almost a full day to make it to the exterior stairwell and begin to climb. Randidly made a silent prayer that this was due to the terrain.

But immediately, the thirty-seventh floor felt different. They came out into the interior of a house. Randidly pivoted on his heel slowly, taking in the many worn tapestries hanging from the long walls and the large fireplace at one end of the room, cold and barren of flames.

“Welcome, children. Especially you, the intriguing Mr. Ghosthound. Have a seat around the table and let me take a look at you.”

Randidly’s skin crawled at the voice. It was honey poured across broken glass, brought to your mouth by a rusty spoon. He turned further, viewing the other end of the room. An extremely tall and skeletally thin woman sat at a low, wooden table with four empty chairs arrayed opposite her. The ceiling was probably three meters up, but the woman’s torso just stretched and stretched, so her head was bowed, lest it knock against the wooden top of the house. Wispy grey hairs hung across her face, conspiring with shadows to hide her features.

Yet the true reason Randidly felt so uncomfortable remained a mystery for several more seconds. Then it hit him; it was faint, but this woman exuded her own greasy variety of Nether. Beyond that, a powerful image gripped the room, humming as it kept itself from collapsing and squeezing them.

His expression twisted. Yuroach wanted to monologue once he felt confident he had his image dominating the space, but this individual doesn’t seem the type to make that mistake.

The creepy, long woman waved an arm, the movement starting at her shoulder. The thin and lanky limb had more in common with a weeping willow branch being buffeted by the wind than a human motion. “Now, now, don’t be shy. All who pass through my domain must have their fortunes read by me. Many claim it’s quite good luck. Others…”

The woman’s head twisted slightly. Even with the hair blocking most of her features, it was possible to see she looked at the tapestries. And now that Randidly gave them a second look, they all depicted various individuals, sewn into the fabric with a variety of agonized expressions. “Well, they didn’t have good fortunes waiting for them anyway. I did this for their own good.”

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