The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

The Prophet sat in front of a piece of paper, watching the characters ripple across the page. Each line buzzed like a honey-covered stick being swarmed by ants. The perfect history seen by the great one lay bare in front of him, painstakingly recorded in its full glory. A fraction of the wisdom and scope of the existence that being could witness. The Prophet’s eye flicked back and forth, struggling to witness and appreciate the wisdom contained there.

The Prophet hated himself, looking at the map. For searching, time and time again, for an answer within the lines. But these developments were beyond the holy light of god.

With a sigh, the Prophet sat backward. Two ugly frowns furrowed the top part of his head. “How strange. Despite the influence of the Nether King, the corruption of the Hierarchy of Finality has occurred once more. Just more quickly than recorded.”

His eye went to the reports from spies regarding the battles within the Aetherlands. “The situation of the war is more complicated. Without the original Cerulean assuming control of his body, the construct Cerulean possessed too much confidence during the initial invasion. He brought the full force of his land’s might against the main host of the Nether Forces and met that Nether monster in the field. The armies are both reduced to stragglers; the location has turned grey and alien from energy radiation, not unlike the Nether’s Hollow plains.

“Instead of waiting at the seat of his power for the Nether host to arrive, Cerulean now scurries back to lick his wounds. His potential for resistance after his loss is… unknown. On the other hand, much of the Nether threat has been depleted…”

Nearby, a cowled Dedicant of the Cult of the Savior bowed slightly. “Will not he be just as amenable to our… backup plan then? If, as you claim, the Nether Arbiter never would have assisted us, won’t we need to rely on that anyway? No matter what route they take, all matters align to our benefit. The light shall spread.”

The inwardly directed anger flared again. The Prophet teetered on a very dangerous decision. It tapped a thick finger on the wooden table, eyes moving from the truth to this ugly echo, the will of El-Kedec warped by the squirming mass of worms.

All of this was sickening. A mockery of true existence.

“...let this nudge pass,” The Prophet grunted out the words, barely believing what he said. He directly deviated from the plan. Unsure if he was dooming his soul to an eternity outside of his lord’s light, by refusing to follow the directives. “We cannot allow this… interloper any more information than he has already received. Let him weep at his own ignorance when he eventually discovers the web of preparations we have made for the light of the true savior to spread.”

“As you say,” The Dedicant nodded. “There is one more thing. The being Elhume… believes he has found traces of the Nether Arbiter. Should I… dissuade him from continuing his pursuit? We have continued to act worried about the state of Pine and his mental state deteriorates.”

“No, I’ve already informed the interloper of that plan. If we can capture the Nether Arbiter, we will play our parts.” The Prophet’s eyes glittered as the characters before him continued to morph and switch.

A single page, containing a whole world. The thought filled him with awe.

So long as he stared at it, he was able to ignore the growing revulsion he felt in his chest.

*****

Randidly leaned back, feeling the image settle into his body after becoming strange and unnatural from its swim within the Sea of Dreams. The cloak, the burning eyes, the infinite shades lurking within the image’s movements… all these aspects filtered into Randidly’s body. He didn’t think often about the function of his Aether, these days he spent much more time refining his Nether, but all the Nether physicalizations that had taken shape by housing the Grey Creature began to change.

The concrete details shifted across the whole of him. The form he would take when he blazed with the whole of his images needed to adjust. With how much time he had poured into the current iterations, that shift would take time.

And speaking of Nether-

Randidly paused in his image settling and brought a hand to press against his burning chest. His heartbeat came close to seeming erratic as his Nether Core churned more and more of his Nether it an overwhelming, concentrated jet.

His two energies were connected. For chaos to be introduced into one of his core images, for the shape to have reached its next iteration, had far-reaching implications for Randidly’s foundation of significance. Especially due to the shift in the core tenant of the image. Now he had to ride out the consequences of his success.

Warning! Your Nether Core is becoming increasingly unstable! The first hints of your Second Authority have begun to form, but cannot find their complete shape! Please firm your resolve.

However, due to the overactivity of your Nether Core, your Nether purity is rapidly increasing!

Warning, extended strain on the Nether Core might have far-reaching implications for the Alpha Cosmos.

“Great,” Randidly muttered to himself. His breath hissed out of his mouth and he stretched his shoulders. With a gesture, he cut the flow from his body to the dome of energy surrounding him. Without its source, the enclosure immediately became sluggish and began to dissipate. After it had vanished completely, Randidly stood on his reinforced platform and looked up at a sea of stars.

Aside from very pointedly needing to avoid looking directly at the blazing orb of Pine, the vista was incredible.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the Dread Homunculus nudged Randidly out of his brief reverie. We cannot remain here. The significance is gathering rapidly, far to the South. We must address it.

Randidly’s lips twitched. He suddenly realized the downside of creating an image that was even more focused on advancing than him. The Stillborn Phoenix’s Unborn Duo flicked around his Soulspace, investigating the new form of their arrival. They made faces at the intermittent specters that appeared as the Dread Homunculus moved.

Yggdrasil rustled its leaves in amusement, promising to nudge him more toward rest and recovery in the future, to act as a counter-balance. But in this case, it believed that the Dread Homunculus was right.

Setting aside the acid burn of a Nether Core that rotated so quickly it seemed to spit out friction sparks, Randidly turned to face the South. He breathed in and pulled deeply from the world. His vision changed, incorporating both his gifts as the Moirae of Minute Repercussions and his status as the Dove Moirae, witnessing the infinite incendiary filaments that animated existence. A whole new existence unfolded in front of him.

Yet his shift in his image brought up a strange musing.

… I suppose I can see why I began to earn resonance with the primordial goddess that birthed the Fates in Greek myths, from generating three of my own, Randidly thought. The Moirae of Minute Repercussions, the Dove Moirae, and the Apostate Moirae.

From what I remember, Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos were separated by their roles. One to spin lives, one to weave them, one to sever them when the time was up. I wonder whether my three fit into a similar workflow…

His senses pulled him back to his body as all the information he could gather about the South came crashed against his already slightly strained brain. For a second Randidly grimaced, trying to parse apart the thick morass of impressions and consequences he could feel. Yet then he felt a pulse from his new image. The lantern-like eyes of the Dread Homunculus brightened and caused the information to unravel and organize itself.

Congratulations! Your Skill Nyx’s Successor Births Fate (GD) has grown to Level 991!

The passive application of the Skill, Randidly felt a flush of relief. I had almost forgotten that was one of the main aims of the Grey Creature’s shift, to help handle all the strain.

With renewed purpose, Randidly stared at the mess of lines and intersections and inflection points and saw. He saw the dangerous reverberations still rippling outward from the place where the Nether Leader had clashed against Cerulean and come out ahead. And now bitter cracks in the Aether forces spreading out to other fronts, as their spiritual center had suffered grievous defeat.

He saw, too, as to his West, forces began to circulate around Devick of all people. He bit his lip, unable to understand how she had become the central point of a storm only slightly smaller than the upcoming conflict outside of Cerulean City.

Congratulations! Your Skill Nyx’s Successor Births Fate (GD) has grown to Level 992!

Congratulations! Your Skill Motif of Unimagined Tolls (GD) has grown to Level 1021!

A third nexus of significance began to form in the East. Only the initial inklings of this one had formed, the first notes of an overwhelming concerto, but already Randidly could see this storm would become the largest of the three. Randidly chewed on his lip. Because the events were still slightly distant and relied heavily upon the two other storms of significance proceeding them, he couldn’t see the details.

He couldn’t tell if this would be the rise of the horrifying Duo, requiring the Hierarchy of Karma to be used. Or even if this was the plan of the Cult of the Savior, to try and break into the Universe Core.

He could see farther into the future than anyone else could ever hope to. Yet, as always, it didn’t feel like quite enough. The patterns became chaos as he watched and the chaos revealed itself as being a pattern all along.

He allowed all the details to percolate through him. More than anything else, Randidly saw how events were tumbling toward the death of Fatia Cerulean. And how, in a way that he couldn’t quite understand, that event would destabilize the memory beyond even his ability to reinforce. Especially while his Nether Core attempted to cope with the sudden shift in emphasis of his third leg.

“Shit,” Randidly whispered. He glanced West toward Devick, then South toward Cerulean, finally settling on the East.

“Randidly.”

He blinked and turned sideways. Neveah stood there, a bemused smile on her face. When she had his attention, she wagged a finger at him. “You forget, you're not alone anymore. Don’t take all the responsibility onto yourself. You’ll need to handle the issues to the South, but we can investigate both East and West. However… there is a slight problem.”

Randidly tilted his head to the side. Neveah gestured sideways, to the low hills around the platform. “As promised, the Nether forces have passed us by. However, one Nether King has remained. I suspect… he is waiting for you.”

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