The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

With a complex heart, Randidly returned to his farm. The events of the past half hour meant that the journey was less than enjoyable. The churning significance in the air had abated, leaving Randidly’s Nether Core whining and struggling. Once more, he was in one of those connection times between relevant memories.

Devick parted from him, hopefully convinced by his words to stick out through the last match of the Hobfootie tournament. He pulled his black robe with golden embroidery more closely around his body. The flashes of buzzing energy from Sulfur’s transformation became a much-needed distraction. His Nether Core hummed constantly.

Despite having made his decision, he couldn’t help but feel regretful. Time marched forward, carrying them all with it. And Randidly wanted to put himself in the best position he could for the escalation of hostilities he was sure would be soon coming.

Elhume had sincerely begged him for his assistance with the mission, both heading to Wyndaos and helping him to kidnap the Nether Arbiter, an individual who was likely the most powerful individual in existence. After the first request, Elhume had begun to shed tears while explaining how important this was to him. How he understood he had made mistakes in the past, but that there was one are where he regretted nothing: his son, Pine.

Borrowing the young Shallah’s power might be considered a selfish act, but Elhume had ignored temptations and forged the Nexus as a way for Pine to develop without dissipating in the inhospitable environment of the original universe. When the situation began to stall out in the Nexus, Elhume had burned his remnant connection to the core area and opened the Nexus up once again. He did not flinch before making sacrifices to protect his son.

With tear-filled eyes, Elhume had acknowledged he understood he asked much from Randidly. He asked him to betray his people, which actually was less relevant than the fist-user seemed to think, and also to assist him in kidnaping the leading figure of the Nether Lands. Feasibility was almost a secondary issue, even if they succeeded, trouble would follow them due to that act for the rest of their lives.

With several heavy concerns on his mind, Randidly had shaken his head to that emotional plea. “I cannot help you. I’m sorry.”

He took his time on his journey back, walking slowly through the hills and valleys back toward the farm. Gradually, the strain on his Nether Core eased, giving him more attention to spare for the environment. His weather modulation Nether Ritual had been heavily damaged by the attack against Malloon, so rain began to pour over him and soak him entirely. Wind danced across the top of the hills, the breath of a tireless storm grown frustrated from so long being stifled. Now it raged freely over Malloon, making up for lost time.

In a way, he found the fickle intensity of the storm reassuring. Despite his powers and the weight of his presence, some things bounced back once his influence was removed.

He savored each long, slow step. Randidly left muddy footprints behind him which were rapidly washed away by the constant beating of the elements. He paused and looked directly up into the sheets of rain, considering the heavy clouds.

“The real reason I refused to help Elhume isn’t so much about the Arbiter or the Nether people,” Randidly said slowly, parsing apart his ambiguous certainty.. “Or even worries over altering the course of the memory; I think I’ve already burned that bridge. No, the reason why I don’t want to be involved…”

His emerald eyes sharpened. He recalled the dense cluster of ripples that guided Elhume’s current movements. These, he had recognized instantly, were not unintended consequences. Chance had very little to do with Elhume’s current circumstances. The Cult of the Savior, perhaps more specifically this individual they called the Prophet, had put a lot of effort into pushing Elhume in this direction.

Interestingly, the memory had shuddered its way into slowness immediately upon the rejection. Apparently, the moment that had mattered for Elhume in the original timeline was that moment when he felt like he had nowhere else to turn. It was the beginning of something for Elhume, something that ended in a very ugly manner.

That realization didn’t make Randidly’s decision any easier.

From the words of the Patron of the Borrowed, the Prophet possessed a great deal of insight into the interactions of the political entities; or even more dangerously, this being had arranged the fall of Malloon to happen. But either way, his calculations hadn’t taken into account the presence of Randidly; likely because he hadn’t existed the first time around.

Randidly brought a hand up and squeezed the almost scaldingly hot, grey half-arm extended from his left shoulder. Sulfur’s continued transformation grounded him. I have a lot more growing to do. If I can take advantage of the time Elhume is heading to Wyndaos and improve myself… keep pushing up the Level of the Codex Hexahedron, categorize my insights about Aether and Nether, continue to refine my emotions…

By the time I want to intervene and adjust the direction of the memory, I want to be ready to fight these old beings that have crept into the Nexus.

Congratulations! Your Skill Gospel within the Seething Torrent (P) has grown to Level 940!

Randidly had to carefully adjust his awareness, keeping himself from being swept away by the constant flow of ripples moving through the surrounding area. Perhaps because of his presence, the patterns were spinning away from his person and sinking into the surrounding ground.

Perhaps with that reminder, the first thing Randidly did when he made it back to the farm, after he contemptuously chopped with his hand and banished the surrounding storm, was go to the apple tree his attention had infected with the weird crystal moss and examine the result. While he had been away to rest, the infection had spread to the entire tree. The bark had become sky-blue crystal, with the leaves darkened to something close to obsidian. Strangest of all, the apples remained, becoming a luminous royal purple.

For a few minutes, Randidly simply circled the tree, making sure the crystal fungus wasn’t spreading any further. At least in this, the ripples of unintended consequences proved very effective; he could see the area of ‘consequences’ creating an aura around the tree, but no other plants were close enough to be similarly corrupted.

Finally satisfied enough to allow his curiosity to come to the fore, Randidly approached the tree and pucked one of the purple apples. After a tentative squeeze, Randidly inserted into his mouth and took a bite. His teeth broke through the skin with a tinkling crunch… and found more crystal within. Randidly chewed for a few seconds, then grimaced and spat out the equivalent of sand, pieces of purple and ivory crystal. For good measure, he wiped his tongue with his hand.

“Well, whatever. If nothing else, the Patron of the Deep will love-” Randidly started muttering to himself, wondering what silly uses the Origin Beast would find for the expensive-looking crystal apple. But quickly, he just grew exhausted.

He saw Elhume’s empty expression after his rejection. The fear and worry clouded the man’s pure heart. Right now, Randidly had no doubt that Elhume would go to his other Patrons and speak to them, gathering up the group to accompany him on this foolhardy mission. Likely he would no longer have the unique talents of the Patron of the Deep working for his skyislands.

Randidly reached up and rubbed his eyes. “The decision was the right one. I saw the power wielded by Cerulean and Bleak Sky during the attack on Malloon… I was close, and I am better at using circumstances to come out ahead. But I still fall short of their intensity. I need to take another step forward. I need to take advantage of the lull before the next important memory.”

Randidly walked to the farmhouse. He did not suppress his uneasy doubts; that would lead to another heart of negative emotion forming inside of his body. Instead, he allowed them to wash over them. He acknowledged he wasn’t sure.

But he knew that the only way he could be sure he could protect the people important to him was power.

That thought too came with an unpleasant twinge. Power alone isn’t enough. If that were true, the modern Elhume wouldn’t still be struggling. Sometimes… sometimes you simply cannot accomplish everything you want. Even with supporters, even with allies, even with luck on your side… you lose.

*****

“Of course he rejected you,” Mae Myrna snorted and folded her arms across her chest. Her strange image had been stabilized, but Elhume still was unnerved by its constant rotation around her body. Truly, she had begun to straddle the line between Aether and Nether.

The three of them were sitting on a hill above the gates of Malloon. Even now, with the surviving city inside of his view, it was difficult to relax. Mae flicked her fingers at Elhume, refocusing him. “Breaking into Wyndaos and kidnapping the Arbiter? Although Aether and Nether have never been able to coexist peacefully, our problems have always been with rambunctious, independent Nether Kings. Exactly because the Arbiter has disapproved of any grand offensive we have continued to thrive. Antagonizing the central figure seems like a mighty dangerous karmic gamble. One that will result in a guaranteed loss”

Elhume grimaced, trying not to show on his face how disappointed he really was by the opinions of those close to him. Not that he had expected a Nether King to easily move against the Arbiter… but Hungry Eye had always struck him as an odd bird, comfortable with rebellion. So he had hoped-

I hoped for someone more powerful than me to take responsibility, Elhume’s heart wept bitterness as he faced the truth of himself. He clenched his fists until his knuckles popped. But that impulse is cowardice. I should… maybe I should be thanking Hungry Eye for this. This is my fight… I need to learn to take responsibility for the choices I have made.

Elhume bumped the knuckles of his two hands together. The impact calmed him. “To expect him to betray his people was too much. I didn’t think it through deeply enough.”

Mae Myrna rolled her eyes. “You latch upon the incorrect truth, Elhume.”

“He has established himself independently and has many friendships. To uproot himself and risk losing everything… especially with the difficulty associated with any mission intending to break through Wyndaos’s defenses-” Elhume replied, but again he was interrupted.

The Patron of Feathers spoke up. “This isn’t about Nether or Wyndaos. It’s about the bigger picture.”

Mae Myrna picked up that train of thought. “Ever since the attack on Malloon, Aether forces have been drumming up support for another crusade against the Nether Lands. However, the speed is suspicious. The propaganda machine in the areas around Cerulean City began a little too quickly. Some elements were prepared beforehand. Malloon just ended up being the spark.”

“So what? People have pushed for war before,” Elhume frowned.

Mae Myrna leaned forward. “Aether forces broadly, but Elhume, your mission if it succeeds, would provide the first justification ever for the entire Nether force to work together and assault us. I have to ask… do you think it’s possible that the Cult of the Savior is using you to create widespread strife?:”

Elhume’s lip trembled. He hated himself for weakness, but he couldn't help it. He released an explosive sigh. “...yes. It is very likely. But Mae… can’t you feel it? Pine’s time is running out. If I don’t move quickly…”

The silence between them stretched, his grief a weeping willow dripping across the entire gathering. Elhume felt the shadow on his heart. Because as the threat to Pine, to whom he had dedicated so much of his life, became more real…

Elhume began to realize there were very few things he would not do to protect his son.

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