The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Randidly observed the end of the confrontation with a mild curiosity. Several elements slid into a satisfying arrangement. So the reason I never needed to intervene here was that this Duo hadn’t unleashed the full power of its Hierarchy… Hard to get a good read on the strike from this distance… but how would I have handled that attack…?

Well, at least there must be repercussions… as it returned to the larger form, its power seemed greatly reduced.

His mind turned that problem over several times, before contenting himself that the moment would be recorded in the Dreamcatcher of the Long Night. With the constant demands of the Sonara, he couldn’t waste time. And he could experience it for himself later.

When he didn’t feel so close to a breakthrough with the Stillborn Phoenix. When his chest didn’t hum with the rapid rotation of Nether through his body. Sulfur practically sang with the gathered significance.

In front of him, the Patrons lurched into motion. The Patrons of the Sun, Blooms, Blades, and Void glanced sheepishly around before following Elhume. The Patron of the Borrowed had already vanished with remarkable speed, weirdly accepting the summons almost immediately.

Randidly supposed the relationship between Elhume and every Patron was complicated, like his with the Pantheon.

The Patron of the Deep was the only figure to hurry to the side of the Patron of the Truth, as she collapsed with a blank expression on her face. Neveah sighed and glided forward, meaning to comfort but not interfere too soon.

Satisfied no immediate problems would arise, Randidly’s attention turned inward. His Nether Core gladly began accelerating.

A heartbeat of stillness. That had been the anchor he had chosen in desperation, which worked as a touchstone for a short amount of time. But now he could understand the broader picture: the silence might usually be associated with stillness, but this silence came from a place of stretching, yawning extension. From one state of existence to another, the silence became resonance.

Two separate existences, impossibility and birth, the oppressive connection between the two briefly flaring into more obvious existence. Silence united them for a moment. The amorphous form of his image, held in careful, glittering orbit in several pieces, came into gradual alignment. The Unborn Duo zoomed under and around the shards, enjoying the tighter curves necessary.

Is that really the trick, Randidly bit his lip. Changing the focus from transitioning to the transition. The Stillborn Phoenix is not being born, it is birth. The chaotic, impossible, miracle alignment of so many separate details…

The Stillborn Phoenix, for its part, grouched in the background as Randidly turned the possibility over in his mind. It definitely wanted to be fully born, not to become a constant state of flux as a general idea. Randidly’s lips quirked and he backed away from that thought. He flowed to the other position, the overlaid superposition of two states. A single entity spread across several dimensions.

All that he needed was to determine both shapes…

Image adjusting! Reaclulating…

Obviously, the one position would be the original Stillborn Phoenix image. An event horizon, the crackling electromagnetic discharge, the shattered beams of light gone milky, the constant drag of entropy, the damage of space, the horrible vastness of the universe beyond. It evidenced itself with a horrible hunger that accepted all aspects of existence into its maw. A lidless eye, staring out into the world for its next meal.

Yet that was only one side of the coin. On the other side, a born entity raised its head and howled to prove its existence, the howl transformed into a constant swallowing on the other side. Randidly’s eyes settled into a half-closed, unfocused state. Because that would be the trick. Finding the opposites. The way the signs on one side would be mirrored and inverted by the other. Even the different forms of radiation would to be reshaped into a whole new series of signs.

Image adjusting! Recaclulating… determining influences…

Warning: Pantheon recommends you continued to fine-tune your Skillset before attempting to evolve! A partial image will result in significant degradation of power.

One of the Unborn Duo slammed into one of the spinning pieces of the Stillborn Phoenix, stabbing a dagger of agony into the back of Randidly’s head. He winced and lost the zen stale of idea percolation. He sent a mental pulse that blasted both of the strange haunting beings away from the Stillborn Phoenix; their lopsided eyes curled into gleeful crescents as they enjoyed the wild ride.

“Gonna be damn hard to find a proper analog for the two of you…” Randidly muttered to himself and raised a hand to push back his hair. For whatever reason, it had been growing quite quickly in the memory. If he didn’t push it back, it began to fall across his eyes.

He almost felt too old to have hair this shaggy. Yet a spark smoldered in his chest; now that he had the scent of an answer for Stillborn Phoenix, he felt a strange peace spread through him.

He saw the way forward. Now he just needed the emergencies to stop popping up long enough for him to follow it.

Content with at least the method of working the Stillborn Phoenix back into shape, Randidly refocused on the fallout of the confrontation with Elhume. Mae Myrna looked at Neveah with cold eyes, apparently having recovered while he was distracted. “You didn’t need to intervene this… is our business. And I have not changed my mind; despite the costs, we need to escape an existence most akin to a feeding frenzy.”

Neveah nodded slightly. “I suspect you will find it much more difficult to remake your… special environment, now that the momentum has been robbed of your world-state image. But I… have another question, if you don’t mind. The Patron of the Borrow… I was quite surprised by his… actions during the fight. And then there is the matter of Elhume requesting a private conversation with him. What’s the foxman like?”

“Fiero?” A small frown crossed Mae’s face. Her mouth lost its firm edge, for just a few moments. She released a long sigh. “Yes, when we first met, he struck me as almost robotic. An emotionless being, dedicated to Elhume’s aims and nothing else. But I suspect he just banks his fires very secretly in the private corners of his heart. When push comes to shove, he can be surprisingly… affectionate. I even suspect he has a crush on me.”

Randidly tried to review the earlier happenings through Neveah’s memory. In the overwritten memory, the Vulpine had confessed his feelings for Mae. Yet he smacked up against the same confusion clouding Neveah’s mind as he watched; why would Elhume, who had made the wish that became the Sonara, want a revision of events where the Patron of the Borrowed had been more honest about his feelings for Mae Myrna?

The Patron of the Borrowed dies, in the process of utilizing the Hierarchy of Karma, I believe. Perhaps… perhaps a misunderstanding comes up there, that could have been avoided if he had been honest about his feelings earlier. Randidly shook his head. The significance above hinted they neared the end of the Sonara, but they hadn’t quite made it out yet. Apparently, both of these dead Patrons weigh heavily on the current Elhume’s mind…

“And now, Nether King Hungry Eye.” Mae Myrna turned to face Randidly. “I suppose you are also going to suggest I cease with this experiment?”

Sighing, Randidly shrugged. “...I’m not making any judgments. I’ve made plenty of decisions I am not proud of. That I regret to this day. So long as you know… your way pits you against all of the rest of existence. Eventually, you will need to crush the rest of us in order to triumph. Do you truly believe you can overcome us all?”

“What choice do I have?” Her voice sounded cold. Despite the pain in her significance, she showed not a single sign of weakness. “I wish to rise above the odious habit of setting aside their sense of justice and just accept an unfair world.”

“I’ll say one thing, before we leave,” Randidly glanced at Neveah. She sagged with sadness and empathy for Mae Myrna, but agreed they shouldn’t interfere further. He cleared his throat; he definitely wouldn’t let Mae’s strange image spread, but he didn’t want to be the one to doom it, if he didn’t need to. “Do you know why I appreciate an unfair world? Or at least, a seemingly random one? Because even when I am filled with certainty, I can be wrong.”

“Certainly a pessimistic appreciation of life,” Mae sniffed. “Does the monstrous Nether King Hungry Eye possess survivor’s remorse?”

Randidly shrugged. “At no point in my life have I been given more opportunities to grow than when I run into a dead end. Isn’t your image going to evolve into a more complete form from this experience? Good luck, Mae Myrna.”

Randidly flicked his wrist, conjuring a bit of the Cloak of Utter Night. Neveah stepped precisely in time to grab onto the edge of the image and ride it with him as he rose into the sky, pulling his storm of Nether that he had been prepared to use to suppress images.

“I’m surprised you didn’t come out swinging,” Neveah commented. “Is this maturity?”

Randidly lips twitched. “Heh, not quite. Honestly, it was Elhume’s improvement. I’m still quite confident I could overcome this version of Elhume in a direct contest… but I think the victory I would achieve with an out-of-commission Stillborn Phoenix would give him the wrong ideas about how close he was to surpassing me.”

“So what now?” Neveah asked. Randidly folded the Cloak of Utter Night into a paper ship on which they sailed across the sky, its prow cresting through the dark clouds hanging over the Aetherlands.

Randidly considered that question. His gut told him it was time to return to the farm, but he looked up at the sky and his expression fell. “... unfortunately, we might need to swing by Homewell before anything else. The Nether invasion returned a bit early. And they’ve already breached the walls.”

“You are going to protect the Turtlelines?” Neveah seemed genuinely bewildered.

Randidly grimaced. “At the very least, we need to make sure Charlotte Wick makes it out of there.”

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