The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Pullas arrived a half-hour early, having gotten a recipe for cheesy scallop potatoes from Tatiana and positively bubbling in anticipation for the group dinner. The last interaction between Randidly and Fiona had filled her with an existential dread related to the Ascension Pact. Pullas couldn’t really believe it, but her image was shaken by the prospective schism. But the fact he arranged this for them all to meet rekindled her hopes of the group continuing to climb together.

Pullas shifted the pot containing her potatoes from one hip to the other. Still, if we keep climbing, what are we going to find in the upper portion of the Sonara…?

Neveah greeted her at the door with a smile, invited her into her home, and gracefully accepted her offer to help with the cooking. A freshly picked batch of flowers leaned against the interior of a glass vase. A fire crackled along the far wall. Already, the room smelled like Neveah was making a mouth-watering meal.

As Pullas washed her hands, she cheerfully said. “Your homeworld is positively stupendous! Of course, the political situation is complex and even I can sense the tension between the different territories. But centered around these tournaments where the reward is a powerful chunk of Nether- undoubtedly a lot of people on Expira are going to die good deaths. The conditions are excellent.”

Neveah chuckled as she sprinkled salt and paprika across the chicken breasts. “Well, I certainly hope that’s true.”

Something slightly morbid about her tone gave Pullas pause. She turned and looked at the woman who was Soulbound to Randidly Ghosthound, whose sharp cheekbones and long black hair made her look like his sister, ignored the layered of thick illusion around her body, and simply peered at her as she slid the pan into the preheated oven. “You… don’t think this is a good world?”

Neveah fidgeted as she straightened, somewhere between a shrug and a head shake. “Ah, I apologize. I think some of Randidly’s anxiety is seeping into me. Um, to put it very simply, I hope that the lives of the people in the Alpha Cosmos have been improving over the last few years. The situation here is definitely becoming stable. Which can be good and bad.”

Then Neveah clapped and offered Pullas a small smile. “The other reason for my half-hearted response. As for the context of their deaths… it is simply difficult, because of the System. Natural causes will no longer claim you, given enough time; you can live as long as you avoid dangerous living. Which, I almost think, is exactly the sort of thing you need to land well upon death’s doorstep. Risks spice up life.”

Pullas opened her mouth to respond but couldn’t. A weird sort of mental popping began to occur within her skull. So she closed it. While being directed to cut carrots, she furiously considered this perspective consequence on the System. She had been young when the System arrived in her world- she had never really even considered what the almost constant delay of death by the System did to the possibility of a good death.

Her image, rapidly progressing through the image fulfillment stage, began to rumble. The psychic tremors were so violent she had to struggle not to release any outward sign. The transformation didn’t happen on the surface, where the details of her good death remained constant. It might have sharpened slightly, a little more humor added to the sharp smile on death’s face, but it was the undercurrents that shifted.

The inexorable tide had to be completely overhauled. Neveah was correct; that was just not the reality under the System.

Death’s arrival was no longer a preordained thing. So the whole concept of a good death had to pivot around that central tenant. Pullas honestly felt like a fool for missing this before. An alarming amount of momentum built through Pullas’s body, following the constant churn of her image. The engine of her power metastasized and began to multiply, filling up the previously hollow interior.

She wavered briefly on stopping this change, this sudden accelerated shift that undoubtedly signaled she was close to the end of her image, but she pressed her lips together and did not inhibit the transformation. Neveah was right; the role of death had changed with the arrival of the System. Pullas had spent a lot of time thinking about her theoretical ideas of death. What she had always lacked were the practical grapplings with the death that existed around her.

That was why Randidly’s words had resonated so much with her. He had obliquely pointed out an absence she couldn’t explain. An absence that had swollen to massive proportions, and she had been carrying it around without noticing it.

So wrapped up was Pullas that she jumped and released a shrill little squeak when Neveah’s hands landed on her shoulders. The noise sounded quite inhuman. Neveah patted her, trying to comfort her. “I don’t mean to surprise you, I just think the carrots are thoroughly cut. Here, I’ve made a cup of tea. Why don’t you sit down and rest?”

A watery pile of paper-thin slices of carrots lay before her, each individual piece clinging to the next based on moisture, but once they dried out they would be blown around by the slightest stirrings of wind like dried flower petals. Pullas allowed herself to be guided over and into a comfortable chair with a knit blanket draped across the back. Her hands graciously accepted the steaming mug of mint tea, but her mouth did not drink. Rocking slightly back and forth, her image continued to rumble toward its fulfillment.

The next surprise, an indeterminate time later for the inwardly drawn Pullas, was when Xershi arrived and swaggered in the door without waiting for Neveah to invite him in. Even through the complex Aether reverberations of her image shifting, Pullas blinked and straightened. Even after such a short time traveling together, his presence triggered an almost automatic response. Her eyes widened. “Xershi, what the hell are you wearing?”

“Oh this? Some of the kids said this is the hip look these days. Like it?” Xershi gestured dramatically to himself. Standing over a pot of stew, Neveah shook her head soundlessly. Pullas couldn’t find the words to articulate a reasonable reaction.

In a word, insufferable.

He was wearing a heavy red-and-gold letterman’s jacket for Kharon Academy. His jeans were low-slung, black, and tied to his frame with a studded belt. The knees had been shredded. A neon purple, wide-brimmed hat was pulled down over her metallic ears. Xershi graciously shifted his standing pose, turning around and looking back over his shoulder with smoldering eyes like a runway model. After posing for a few seconds, he pivoted again.

“Immaculate,” Neveah said dryly. Pullas could only manage a small cough, unable to figure out why Xershi seemed so damned confident about this ridiculous arrangement. The confidence in his face deflated her desire to tell him he looked like an idiot.

Randidly arrived a short time later, raising his hands as he walked through the door with a ‘sorry I’m late’. Neveah clicked her tongue, but everyone got to enjoy the moment when Randidly drew up short, finally noticing how Xershi was dressed. The metal man grinned and offered an elaborate bow, which caused his hat to fall off its head.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Randidly moved to join Neveah in the kitchen and started pulling down plates from the cupboards. Despite her inner distractions, Pullas found the synchronized movements of Randidly and Neveah gorgeous to watch. She took the chicken breasts out of the oven and he was there, leaving a wooden cutting board on which for them to rest. He removed silverware from a drawer and pressed it closed with a hip, so Neveah could pivot smoothly and take some cookware to rinse in the sink.

Their natural movements were obviously quick, due to their high Stats, but that wasn’t the real allure of their interactions. It was the implicit communication, the thoughtless cohabitation within a shared space. Pullas had heard of the Soulbond before but had found the whole practice vaguely disquieting. There were quite a few unsavory rumors about the practice being used in parasitic and predatory ways. Besides, how could two different beings truly share a mental space? Yet the duo in front of her made it seem quite natural.

Also of interest was their conversation.

Randidly glanced up as he set the table. “Any luck on the Engraving? If we could replicate the effect, even in small areas-”

Neveah shook her head immediately. “There’s the issue of the Engraving patterns being based on a different core understanding, but even so, we haven’t seen what we need to decode the process. To replicate the Sonara’s effect on images, we need the central Engravings; the ones you’ve seen thus far are just designed to help the resonance effect.”

“So of course, the important bits are squirreled away near Elhume’s defensive net,” Randidly grunted. Pullas found it interesting that he so immediately differed to his Soulbound’s opinion. It made her realize the two were true partners, in a strange way.

“The important bits that we know about. The massive Sonara isn’t a simple thing.” Neveah gave Randidly’s back a vulnerable and beseeching look. Witnessing it made Pullas feel both like a voyeur and like she almost imagined it, because as Randidly turned around Neveah’s expression schooled itself into all business. “There will be a lot we cannot hope to predict on those levels where Elhume made his fortress. Be careful.”

“You know me. Careful is my middle name.” Randidly said, almost as a joke. He turned away before Neveah’s shoulders slumped.

It must be… trying to be connected directly to this man, Pullas felt her image rumbling again, reacting to a sudden epiphany about the two’s relationship. Randidly throws himself into the jaws of danger, time and time again. At this point, he’s almost cavalier about his own life. Because to do anything else would be to stop and acknowledge the thin dance floor for his ambitious waltz toward the top of the Nexus. Understanding whether that margin is a single centimeter or a micrometer has no meaning. So instead of worrying about that, Randidly focuses on his own power. Which is the only thing you can do, but…

Pullas looked at Neveah. How deeply does she love him? And now I can see it, the way all of the worries Randidly refuses to acknowledge build up in her. Yet she maintains such a calm face, always grounded, always supportive. Because… he probably can’t do this alone, not without that place to shunt his fears. She has her battles, just as he has his.

Partners.

Weirdly, Pullas’s gaze circled the room and landed on Xershi. He was crouching next to the fireplace, holding his hat above the flames and grinning as it began to smolder. She tried to imagine what it would be like to be Soulbonded to him and just shuddered.

If just for the inane thoughts alone, it would be torture.

Fiona arrived last to the dinner, even though she had the least distance to travel. But she thumped in also without waiting for a response to her knock, covered in dirt and smelling of sweat. She stopped short, looking at them all while specifically not looking at Randidly. Her eyes skirted the edge of his figure. The effortless ballet of the movements in the kitchen stopped. Fiona cleared her throat. “Sorry I’m late. But I… I wanted to finish. And look, I brought some food from the garden. Who new growing food was so easy?”

Weirdly, desperately, almost-shy, Fiona held up the wicker basket on her arm. Within, Pullas could see some weirdly lumpy and mishappen carrots, turnips, and onions.

“You…” To their surprise, Randidly responded to her, stepped forward and looking down into the basket. A little smirk crossed his face and he couldn’t suppress a chortle. “You’re actually quite bad at growing crops, aren’t you?”

“I-” Fiona’s eyes flashed, filled with a flare-up of frustration and hurt. But soon, that settled and receded, leaving the woman looking oddly nervous. She shifted and spoke quietly. “Randidly, I just wanted to say, I’m really sorry for the way I behaved. I shouldn’t have just lashed out at the people of your world.”

“Thanks, it means a lot to hear that,” Randidly’s expression became serious too as he studied her. Then he offered her an unsatisfying shrug. “I don’t think I can quite say I forgive you, at least not yet. But we are still an Ascension Pact. That’s part of why I wanted to have this dinner; to talk about climbing further.”

“You really mean to go past the layers protected by Elhume.” Pullas breathed out. Her heart tightened with fear. “If you are caught-”

“Then let’s just not get caught,” Xershi wheeled around, an aggressive grin on his face.

Randidly nodded toward Xershi. “That’s sorta the plan. I’m not exactly sure what’s on the other side of the Sonara, but it’s something I need to save a friend. Therefore I’m going to continue to climb. And I hope you all join me.

“But… there is something else,” Randidly turned back to face Fiona directly again. His expression became solemn. “And… I should have told you earlier, but- well. Things were tense. However, before I followed you guys into the Alpha Cosmos, I saw something happening to Duulys. Actus Suprem Devick… came into the Sonara. I had thought she was pursuing me, but it seems like she was under orders to fetch Duulys. She wrapped him up in her image and took him away.”

“So he-” Fiona’s facial muscles froze for a split second before contorting inward. The shift was like sheet metal being crumpled into a ball. The emptiness in her eyes now unnerved Pullas more than the stiffness and bitterness that had lived there before. “Devick with the chains? The crazed, baby-obsessed, insane person?”

Randidly winced. “It’s almost worse that you know who she is.”

“They were rivals, on the frontline,” Fiona whispered. “And because Duulys eventually surpassed her in fame… well, no one could ever prove it, but many believe that Devick orchestrated the downfall of the Raesham. All because of jealousy. Her hand didn’t hold the knife, but she gave the push that shredded my people to bits.”

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