Unbound

The Sailwhale floated through an infinite twilight, its crystalline balloon-thingie lighting up what was already a dim darkness. The Claw moved calmly along the gunwales, patrolling in case of another Void beast attack, but mostly it was silent. There wasn’t even a breeze, just the distant impression of mountains slowly growing closer.

Beef was settled against one of the masts, Bedlam across his lap, in a cradle of thick roots before they merged completely with the living deck. He was trying to meditate, but it was hard. The Sailwhale distracted him, as it had since the first time he’d laid eyes on it. His experience constructing Manaships had given him a deep appreciation for the rules and processes needed to build one—and the Sailwhale betrayed all of them. Forged of Felix’s Willpower alone, it worked despite its strange shape and massive weight. It didn’t even have an engine!

I knew magic was crazy. But this doesn’t make sense. The Dark Passages were like core spaces in many ways, and those were bonkers too. Keeping all the details straight was so hard, sometimes. Wish I had a wiki.

“Beef? Are you ready?” Vess asked. She was clad in her elaborate armor and her matching spear was angled into the crook of her elbow. “Harn said you had finished his regimen for the day.”

Beef groaned. “Barely. That guy is a monster.”

To his surprise, Vess folded her legs and sat before him. She set her spear aside. “Harn’s greatest strength is his commitment to improvement, whether that is fighting or smithing. It has carried him far, and I hope it will carry him further still.”

“Improvement. Isn’t that like…the point? Isn’t everyone trying to advance?”

“Not at all. In your days in Ahkestria, were there people that stagnated?”

“Yeah. But, like, those people were miners. Slaves, basically. They didn’t have any way to get stronger.”

Vess’ face pinched. “I have not forgotten. I have talked with many of those former miners. All struggled ahead, advancing their Skills in whatever way they could. It was their guards that often remained behind. They reached a point in their training that allowed them to exert their Will on the lives of others, and for them that was enough.”

Beef wrinkled his nose. “Gross.”

“I agree. Yet not all those that stagnate do so for such vile reasons. Some are simply content. Some are numb. Some are afraid.” The lady laid her hands along her armored thighs, palms up. “It is vision and conviction that drive us to greater heights. Now. Shall we begin?”

Beef swallowed nervously and nodded.

“Good. Then we shall enter your core space together.”

Beef no longer stood upon the Sailwhale, and the ground beneath him heaved. He stumbled, nearly losing his footing on the slightly rounded surface, but his hooves caught traction along a pattern of bumpy ridges.

“Gah. Terrible entrance,” he muttered. “Dumb hammer.”

Bedlam hung heavily across his back, and it weighed Beef down immensely. He clenched his jaw and frowned, flaring his Willpower so hard that his neck corded with tendons and veins. With a muted pop, the hammer vanished.

“Are you alright?” Vess asked. She stood a short distance away, poised upon a thin railing as if it were a ballroom floor. She was clad in her white-enameled armor just as in the real world, but also had no weapons. A scarf fluttered across her shoulders, diaphanous and colored a pale blue edged with red-gold. “You look…ill.”

Beef flushed. “I uh, I didn’t want Bedlam on me. So I had to get rid of it.”

“Ah, yes. Altering your visualized projection is difficult at first.” She tilted her head, and the dark-skinned woman’s eyes flickered from golden brown to red to blue to bright magenta before returning to normal. “But that is part of what we are working upon today. Thanks to our Link with Felix, I can enter your space directly to refine your control with a few techniques.”

“Right.” Beef looked down at himself, studying his chitin breastplate and vambraces. “I’ve always wondered why I look like this when I come here. My armor hasn’t looked like this for months.”

Vess stepped gracefully off the railing and onto the curved floor. “It is a matter of perspective and identity. You are who you believe yourself to be.”

“I’m a Minotaur.” Beef grinned. He had appeared as his old self in his core space before, but that was back when he was upgrading it all. He hadn’t lapsed like that since. “I’m a Minotaur.”

“Indeed.” Vess gestured around herself. “Can you tell me about your core space? It is quite…unique.”

“Oh! Yeah!” Beef walked over to the railing and threw out his arms. “This is the Golden Death Beetle!”

They stood atop the back of an enormous bug, a mixture of scarab and a rhinoceros beetle. The creature moved as if alive, scuttling across the landscape tirelessly. It was shaped like a tank made of green-gold plates, with a large structure built atop its back that resembled nothing so much as an enormous, sprawling mansion. The thick walls and oddly joined rooms were piled atop one another, like a fever dream of a house, all of them built of green-gold chitin, extending out of the beetle’s back like it had been grown.

All around them was an endless field of golden grain and small trees, while above the sky was blue touched by the faintest hint of sunset. The pervasive heat might have been too dry and overbearing were it not for the cool, intermittent breeze that rolled across the fields. Beef had designed the place to reflect his favorite time of the day during his favorite time of the year: late afternoon in the heart of summer.

The ground shifted again as the Golden Death Beetle strode forward on its massive legs, forcing Beef to grab hold of the railing. Vess merely rolled with the movement, her concentration untouched.

“It’s not as hot as summer in Texas but I couldn’t do that to myself, especially after the Scorched Expanse,” Beef explained. He looked at the older woman, unexpectedly nervous. “Do—do you like it?”

“Beef, it is extraordinary. All of this detail! You clearly had a powerful vision in order to produce something so complex.”

Pride swelled in Beef, washing away some of his jitters. “Yeah. Yeah I did. The Primordial of Withering Dust helped. All that power from Felix and our Link was like…like a big uh, a big help.”

Beef inwardly cursed himself for his clumsy words. The game-like stuff was easy to understand, but the more he moved away from simple RPG rules, the less he understood.

Vess didn’t seem to care. “Yes, the Link has proven more of a boon than I originally estimated. But! There is always room for improvement, as you well know. What did you wish to focus on today?”

He chewed at his lip. “Follow me. Hallow? Take us to my Skills, please.”

“Of course.”

Hallow’s voice rang out around them, sounding smooth and calm and exactly like his mom. Beef wasn’t exactly a fan of that, but he’d yet to figure out how to change it. A massive, segmented leg lifted from the fields and bent unnaturally on itself until it came to a rest inches from Beef’s feet.

“Hallow, you are the beetle itself?” Vess asked.

“I am, yes. Welcome, Lady Dayne, to our core space.”

Beef stepped forward, hooves finding purchase on ridges and thick spikes on the limb. “Hop on.”

Vess did so, and Hallow immediately lifted them both up and over the mansion’s outer walls. The wind howled in their ears, a refreshing gust that set his fur rippling across his arms and neck. In moments, they were deposited atop the tallest portion of the wild house, where a wide field opened up to the sun and sky. They hopped off.

“Interesting,” Vess remarked as she took in the grass-filled area. “Each one of these is a Skill?”

“Yeah.”

Surrounding them were a number of statues, each one depicting a unique object, person, or monster. A big hammer for his Bludgeoning Weapon Mastery. A suit of armor surrounded by insectoid legs for his Keratin Conception. The list went on. All were done up in a green stone so deep it was nearly black, except where the sculptures were the most detailed. There, they shone like transparent stars, glimmering with sparks of brighter green and hints of vibrant gold.

Beyond the overgrown field was another portion of his mansion, but this one was a little different than the others, if only in coloration. Beef scrubbed his hands against his leather battle skirt, but his hands remained vaguely sweaty. He ignored the building. It wasn’t important.

Vess walked among them, through the overgrown weeds at their bases. “Is the detail representative of their respective levels?”

That took a second for Beef to figure out. “Oh! Yeah. Every time I level them up, they get a little better. I’ve got most of them up into high Journeyman now, except for one or two new ones. I don’t, uh, really know why they get all shiny though.”

“It is a visual aid,” Hallow said, her voice just a touch too loud. “The more detail, the greater the power that can shine through your Skills.”

“And this?” Vess asked. She had come to one of his Skills that was represented not by a single statue, but many all clustered together. They rose up from the same base as if exploding outward, reaching or clawing or lunging. “I sense this is all one Skill.”

“Hallow Rise,” Beef said. “The one we use to take over dead Bodies. Each figure is something that Hallow has Risen before, even if we don’t have access to it anymore.”

The statue was big, taking up a considerable portion of Beef’s field, as well it should. A massive scorpion was there, the Multipede too, as well as Sand Wolves, Paladins, and even the undead from the desert. Surmounting it all was the Homunculus, and that looked the least refined of all.

Vess bent down and parted the grasses near the Skill’s base. “Weeds here, and the hint of something else below. What is it?”

Beef craned his neck over, curious. “I have no idea.”

“Something to be discovered,” Hallow said.

Vess nodded along. “Very good. The mansion below…what is the purpose of it?”

Beef cocked his head. “Purpose? Do I need one?”

“Usually. The way we visualize our core spaces speaks to our desires and dreams. What does this mansion mean to you?”

He hadn’t really thought much of it, back when he’d forged the place. It had been done under extreme circumstances back in Khasma, as Vess well knew, and Beef didn’t remember all of the process. He told her as much. “I think it’s mostly that I wanted a home. My old space was…cozier. But I’d outgrown it. This is more my style, now.”

“I can understand that. You have been through a great deal, Beef.” Vess gave him a kind smile and patted a sand zombie on the shoulder. “Now, stand on one leg, and empty your Mind.”

Beef did so, wobbling a bit on his narrow hoof. “How do I empty my Mind?”

“Calm your thoughts. I have found it helpful to focus upon a singular image or sensation, and to let that fill the space of your Mind. Peace will follow, given enough time.” Vess copied his stance, but folded her lifted leg up and over her other thigh without issue. She settled in. “Do not be worried if it takes a while. It is a process.”

Beef nodded and got to work.

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