The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Randidly just looked at the Nether King for several seconds after that bloodthirsty announcement. Similar to being in the upper part of the Sonara, just being near this powerful figure felt like standing in the current of a river. It pressed against you constantly, threatening to unmoor you and drag you away. The force of his will tugged even at Randidly Ghosthound.

The Nether King’s leering grimace vanished, but only because he brought his small hands and covered up his twisted mouth. Behind the fingers, Randidly could occasionally still see teeth. “Apologies. I’ve… had a lot of time to consider this, from when I was imprisoned within the patterns. About this opportunity to escape, I have too much intensity. Even my patterns begin to warp before that much emotion. Ahem… but I do have two other gifts for you before you go.

“The first is a pattern I’ve been working on.” The Nether King extended a small and dirty hand. A dazzling, prismatic crystal spun slowly above his palm. As Randidly watched, The various extensions gleamed and drew new connections to each other, the previous positions gradually fading. It shifted near constantly, becoming a new, even more complex crystal with each shift. The stark and harsh shape drew the eye. “I was attempting to condense a second Penance, to increase my power beyond my current limit. I had hoped… I had hoped that my own suffering would have been enough to rival our opponent’s understanding of the Pinnacle. But I did not have the space inside of myself to host another Penance.”

Randidly watched the shifts in the crystal. “What would this have sacrificed?”

The Nether King blinked at Randidly’s question. Then he revealed the childish version of his smile, dropping his hands away. “Ah, you know of Penances, eh? This particular one would have given up my emotions. Perhaps it would have crippled me, but-”

The Nether King refocused on the crystal. “Obviously, treat it with care, isolate it, however you feel necessary to be safe. Even I would not easily trust such an arrangement of significance. But I promise you this does contain some of my more recent and profound insights into Nether. I believe it will be valuable to your growth.”

Randidly remembered the actions of Solomon Rex, giving him a Penance where he would pay the price and the other man would secretly receive a benefit. Yet still, even looking at the crystal, he could see the gleaming secrets it held. Releasing a long breath, Randidly extended a hand and took the powerful object.

“The second gift is a bit of information I remember from my childhood.” The Nether King continued. He gestured at his small body. “Obviously, I was too young and weak to be allowed near any of these important events. And later, I was too poor to be in the locations that received reprisals from the Aether forces… but you want to find a way to a city called Malloon in the memories. And in the next few layers. It was one of the greatest seats of Aether power. A center of commerce and culture, home of the most powerful Aether Council in existence. And it would be the sacking of Malloon, the war that followed, the slaughter at Wyndaos… those would reveal the spirit of the age. And create your predecessor, who Elhume would need to slay.”

Randidly frowned. “My predecessor?”

The Nether King shrugged. “It is a slightly morbid truth, but I will offer it. Once one has reached the Pinnacle, there is drag for others to join you. Like calls to like. Strange, cosmic forces begin to push for others. Some would call it karma, but I believe it is… more like a breeze from a rip in a tent. Others will feel the force and find the way. I believe very strongly that you have brushed against this Pinnacle-seeking breath.

“Anyway, your predecessor. The early years were rough for Elhume, due to his incomplete ascension. Which is why the First and Second Cohorts were such chaos, when individuals saw the alternate universe as a second chance, and not the slowly collapsing tomb it has turned out to be. Soon, within these memories, you will meet the great ‘villain’ of the Second Cohort. The one who so warped the world the Hierarchy of Karma needed to be found and used to slay them. A being of Aether and Nether in equal measure. You could learn much from them, I’m sure. But it is also dangerous.

”Our enemy is distracted currently, with his own plans and the chaos of the Sonara’s fall. But this being will not be. If you attract their attention, you will most likely encounter them.”

“And there is a chunk of this individual, held below in the Sonara.” Randidly licked his lips and refocused. It was good to be warned about that danger ahead of time. “But...you are saying that… I have an inherent connection to Elhume just like this individual? One pulling me toward him?”

“Ha! No, child,” The Nether King shook his head. The patterns around his body began to fade. The depth receded from his eyes, his consciousness departing. “Never Elhume. Remember, your foe is simply the one who currently occupies the incomplete throne.

“No, the like that calls to you, the one pulling you, the one who created the monster of the Second Cohort… is Pine’s corpse. The breath is from the child, a dead remnant seeking to restore the universe to its rightful wholeness.”

When the Nether King vanished after those words, the child version of him swayed in a bleary daze. Then he froze like a frightened rabbit, noticing Randidly’s presence. Before he had to deal with the emotional fallout from that surprise, Randidly left the memory. After that conversation, he had a lot to think about.

In the floating currents, he looked down at his hands. His forehead scrunched together. An inevitability, huh… guided by some breath? What a convenient fucking way to describe all the struggle it took me to get here.

He did his best to squash the weird annoyance he felt and look at the Nether pattern the King had passed to him. After a few seconds of studying it for any tricks, he stored it away with a broader Nether Ritual to suppress it. Not that he didn’t wish to examine it, but there really were more pressing demands on his time. He could distantly feel the rumbling through the Sonara as the destruction approached even the upper reaches. Time might be slowed while he was within the memories, but not out here.

Randidly turned his attention to the connections from his body. He focused on the name Malloon, trying to find this city that would become so important in the Second Cohort. A large city would definitely be a good area to discover more relevant information. Perhaps he could obtain more direct information about Elhume and his group.

However, thinking the word ‘Malloon’ caused no reaction amongst the tethers; obviously, he didn’t have a bond with the city. He thought more broadly, about information, big city, powerful Aether forces… gradually, one tether did begin to stand out more than others. It was a sort of tether he recognized; like Devick’s, it would lead him to a particular individual with whom he had a strong connection. The significance through it was dense and dark.

Randidly just didn’t know who it would bring him to.

“Well, it’s not like I can wait here,” He muttered to himself.

This connection was also quite close. He pushed his way through the wild currents and sank into the new memory. The passage took longer than the previous two- Randidly felt like he was sinking through jello for several seconds. The process wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it was oddly stifling.

More memories are present here, Randidly realized as he examined the workings of the fake Nether Prince as he passed into it. Will this one… allow me to stay longer? Interesting.

Then he popped out, settling down in the dimly lit back of a large ballroom. The ceiling here was higher and more ornate than the hall in Tatem, covered in murals of a man wielding lightning bolts fighting against a two-headed serpent. Individuals in glittering robes and dressed swung and spun to an elaborate waltz in the middle portion of the room, on a slightly raised golden dance floor. Giant floating gold balls provide ample light. Randidly rolled his eyes as he began studying the various finery around him. What is with me and parties?

A server with a tray of champagne flutes came up to him with a ready smile. “Sir, would you like-”

However, his words choked off as he looked at Randidly, specifically the robe on his body. Randidly looked down at the garment draped across him. To his surprise, he wore the same silky black material with golden thread embroidery he had worn in the first memory. The golden stitched Yggdrasil glittered up at him. Oh, this is actually quite convenient. Did this happen when the connection between myself and the robe happened? I don’t need to walk around with everyone thinking I’m naked again. But at the same time…

Randidly took a champagne flute and jerked his hand in a dismissive gesture. The server scrambled away. …very quickly, people will believe I am a Nether King, here at this weird party. Haaah… I hope no one tries to arrest me again.

Randidly sunk more deeply into the shadows beneath the nearby pillars, allowing the color of his robe to disguise his position. As he did before, he closed his eyes and opened his ears to sample the conversation in the surroundings. A flood of unrelated phrases ran over each other in the surroundings.

“I suppose he is the head of a merchant family, but don’t think you think this is all a bit ostentatious for simply being named Undersecretary? Had he received a permanent seat-”

“Being restricted to not possessing a Class while they play professional Hobfootie obviously shortens their lives, but when you consider the money they can bring to their families, I think it’s not such-”

“What do you mean, ‘I’m always making you out as the villain’ Shit, Lylla, can we not do this here? Let’s wait until we get home.”

“Okay, but emphasizing Classlessness clearly enforces socioeconomic differences, does it not?”

“Just the pageantry of it all-”

“No. No, I’m not going to wait. Your blood brother said right to my face that I wasn’t very nice-”

“Not at all! If they wanted to change their economic situation, they should train harder. Or pledge themselves to a larger affiliation with growth potential. Many of the more dominant races are searching for valued subordinates. Take the Peregrine Serpents or the Many-Tailed Foxes-”

“- yet you didn’t even defend me! All you say every time I bring it up-”

“You and he just have different definitions of ‘nice’.”

“Now you sound like a fool. Obviously these subordinate affiliations are predatory contracts. Any wandering warriors who sign on will be used as fodder and then cast aside.”

“Exactly. Different definitions of ‘nice’. And you know what, Iyork? You know what I’m hearing? That you and your brother have a definition of nice doesn’t apply to me. Right?! Is that right? What about me isn’t nice?!? Just fucking say it to me, if you think so. At least your brother had the balls.”

Randidly pursed his lips; almost all of the conversation on this side of the hall became dominated by the fight between the arguing couple. Both had scaled arms and feathers sticking out of their elbows and shoulders. She glared at him with dark eyes, daring him to say anything. The man stood with his mouth open, eyes bulging. He had started the process of responding, but couldn’t find a safe way to proceed.

The silence doomed him just as surely as speaking would have.

“Hmph,” The woman finally snorted and turned away, heading for one of the side passages. On her way, she stomped up to a gathering of two servants, swiped five flutes of champagne off their trays, finished them all, and tossed them to the ground so they loudly shattered into pieces. Everyone in the surroundings, even Randidly, very pointedly did not look at her or the man she left behind as she walked away.

Randidly politely took a sip of his own flute. To his surprise, it was much better than he had had previously; the liquid bubbled and fizzed to nothing on his tongue, leaving a vaguely pleasant taste in its wake.

A few minutes later, filled with more meaningless discussion about Hobfootie, a man brought a small fork against his glass on the opposite side of the hall. He strode out onto the dance floor with a wide smile on his face. “Ahem, ahem, may I have everyone’s attention. I think it’s time for me to introduce the man of the hour, for whom this party is being held. Malloon’s new Under Secretary… Drane Swacc!”

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