((The 17 pages of St. Patrick's Day + Triple Saturday -- Page 17 of 20))
Royo looked around again, perhaps waiting for someone to answer him, but when no one did, he kept talking. “Allow me to expedite your journey for you.” He turned to Malast, who was going back to his seat. “Might I borrow the Staff of Unso for a moment?”
Malast had rested the Staff against his chair earlier. After he sat down again, he shrugged, grabbed it, and flung it over to Royo.
Royo caught it with one hand. “Much appreciated, old friend.”
And it was fleeting, but for a moment, Hector thought he saw Malast actually smile.
“Now.” The pendant around Royo’s neck began to glow along with the tip of the Staff. “Should you ever decide to return to the Higher West Layer, seek me out. I will give you a hero’s welcome.”
Arcing sparks jumped from the Staff to the four corners of the chamber, as they had done previously, and Hector’s vision started to distort familiarly as well.
“Ah, but if possible, I would prefer you not bring your Dragon next time. Farewell.”
Everything blurred and smeared into itself, and Hector lost all sense of direction and space.
The floating sensation lasted noticeably longer this time, however. It was disorienting, to be sure, but Hector was almost able to regain his bearings before it finished. And when it did, he wasn’t nearly so confused as he might have otherwise been.
He saw sky.
For the first time in what felt like ages, he could see stars, twinkling in the night, and a full, lustrous moon.
“What in the--?” someone said. Elise Garza, Hector recognized after a moment.
“Where the hell are we now?” said Diego. “Oh, hey, I can talk again.”
‘Hector?’ said Yangéra. ‘Do you know?’
He wasn’t sure why she had singled him out to ask, but in fact, he did know. While the Scarf of Amordiin wasn’t revealing their exact location in a GPS-like sense, it was revealing the shape of a familiar, two-pronged monument that was standing behind everyone’s back. Hector might not have remembered it so clearly if Garovel hadn’t reminded him of it only a couple days ago.
“...We’re in Atreya,” said Hector.
Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Four: ‘An untimely arrival...’
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It took a while for everyone to get a handle on what had just happened. The lingering blue sparks around Rathmore’s Gate seemed to help them conceptualize it, somewhat, but even so, the fact that they had apparently teleported over such a tremendous distance was no small matter.
Hector might’ve been right there with them in their confusion, if he wasn’t so distracted with something else--or rather, someone else.
Eleyo. Or, no. Not Eleyo. Royo Raju. Reborn with the remains of the God of Growth.
The fact that it was Royo who had teleported them all just now was what concerned Hector. Granted, he’d used some sort of magical artifact or something in that “Staff of Unso,” but would he have been able to do that before?
And the way he spoke...
It had certainly sounded like Royo had some sort of plan. Hector wondered what it was.
A dark serial novel. Set in a modern fantasy world called Eleg. Mature language. Updates every day at noon PST by ~400 words.
Saturday, March 17, 2018
Page 1612
((The 17 pages of St. Patrick's Day + Triple Saturday -- Page 16 of 20))
Everyone just listened, and Hector wondered where this was going. Despite what Royo had just admitted to--or perhaps even because of it--Hector didn’t get the sense that Royo was going to attack them.
“I am indebted to you all,” said Royo. Then he pointed at Manuel Delaguna. “Especially to you. And I do not take my debts lightly. Know that they will be repaid, in time. And know that I do not think of you as my enemies or wish harm upon any of you.”
And there was silence again.
Everyone, presumably, was trying to process everything that they had just heard.
Malast broke the quietude with a yawn. “Oh. Hey.” He walked over to Hector and handed the items he’d dropped earlier back to him. “Here.”
It was quite a collection, Hector realized as he started taking them. The Scarf of Amordiin, the Shifting Spear of Logante, that weird orb on a tuning fork, and the Shard.
Wait, where was the Egg of Prosperity? Where was his one million troa? It hadn’t gotten destroyed in the fight with the worm, had it?
Or, hold on. Did he even pick the Egg up in the first place?
...Had he really forgotten to grab it? Even after Garovel pointed it out to him?
Well, fuck.
He wondered if this was how Asad felt all the time.
When it came around to returning the Shard, Hector’s hand grabbed it, but Malast didn’t let go.
“What is this thing, by the way?” said Malast. “It seems a little different to the others.”
And Hector locked gazes with the God of the Underworld. Silently, he again considered telling Malast that the item he was holding contained the very same Rasalased that he had expressed an interest in earlier.
He considered it. And then, he decided to actually do it. “This is a Shard of the Dry God,” said Hector. “Rasalased is inside it.”
‘Hector, what the fuck?!’ said Garovel privately.
Malast’s eyes widened. The perpetually glazed look on his face went away.
Hector didn’t let go of his end of the Shard, though. “...Actually, I just talked to him again. He said he wouldn’t mind meeting you, but he didn’t seem to know how to make contact.”
“...Huh,” said Malast. “Interesting.”
And to Hector’s surprise, Malast let go of the Shard.
“I guess I’ll have to look into that later,” said the Idle God. Then that glazed look returned. “Agh. That’s gonna suck. I hate having to learn new things.”
Hector returned the Shard to its previous place inside his armor.
‘Did you really just talk to Rasalased?’ said Garovel, still privately.
‘Yep.’ A beat passed, and then he added, ‘I think. I guess I could’ve been dreaming or something.’
‘Hector--!’
Royo’s words cut him off. “Perhaps I can do something for you, right now.” He held up something in his hand. Some kind of orb? “I do not think this will make up for my debt, but as I understand it, you are all trying to return to the surface, no?”
When did he learn that, Hector wondered? Did someone tell him?
Everyone just listened, and Hector wondered where this was going. Despite what Royo had just admitted to--or perhaps even because of it--Hector didn’t get the sense that Royo was going to attack them.
“I am indebted to you all,” said Royo. Then he pointed at Manuel Delaguna. “Especially to you. And I do not take my debts lightly. Know that they will be repaid, in time. And know that I do not think of you as my enemies or wish harm upon any of you.”
And there was silence again.
Everyone, presumably, was trying to process everything that they had just heard.
Malast broke the quietude with a yawn. “Oh. Hey.” He walked over to Hector and handed the items he’d dropped earlier back to him. “Here.”
It was quite a collection, Hector realized as he started taking them. The Scarf of Amordiin, the Shifting Spear of Logante, that weird orb on a tuning fork, and the Shard.
Wait, where was the Egg of Prosperity? Where was his one million troa? It hadn’t gotten destroyed in the fight with the worm, had it?
Or, hold on. Did he even pick the Egg up in the first place?
...Had he really forgotten to grab it? Even after Garovel pointed it out to him?
Well, fuck.
He wondered if this was how Asad felt all the time.
When it came around to returning the Shard, Hector’s hand grabbed it, but Malast didn’t let go.
“What is this thing, by the way?” said Malast. “It seems a little different to the others.”
And Hector locked gazes with the God of the Underworld. Silently, he again considered telling Malast that the item he was holding contained the very same Rasalased that he had expressed an interest in earlier.
He considered it. And then, he decided to actually do it. “This is a Shard of the Dry God,” said Hector. “Rasalased is inside it.”
‘Hector, what the fuck?!’ said Garovel privately.
Malast’s eyes widened. The perpetually glazed look on his face went away.
Hector didn’t let go of his end of the Shard, though. “...Actually, I just talked to him again. He said he wouldn’t mind meeting you, but he didn’t seem to know how to make contact.”
“...Huh,” said Malast. “Interesting.”
And to Hector’s surprise, Malast let go of the Shard.
“I guess I’ll have to look into that later,” said the Idle God. Then that glazed look returned. “Agh. That’s gonna suck. I hate having to learn new things.”
Hector returned the Shard to its previous place inside his armor.
‘Did you really just talk to Rasalased?’ said Garovel, still privately.
‘Yep.’ A beat passed, and then he added, ‘I think. I guess I could’ve been dreaming or something.’
‘Hector--!’
Royo’s words cut him off. “Perhaps I can do something for you, right now.” He held up something in his hand. Some kind of orb? “I do not think this will make up for my debt, but as I understand it, you are all trying to return to the surface, no?”
When did he learn that, Hector wondered? Did someone tell him?
Page 1611
((The 17 pages of St. Patrick's Day + Triple Saturday -- Page 15 of 20))
‘A good ten minutes or so,’ said Garovel.
Hector tried to pick himself up and found it difficult.
Oh, right. He couldn’t feel pain at the moment, but he didn’t have his cooling armor on, so the heat of the Undercrust was trying to melt his body again, competing with his regeneration and sapping the strength from his muscles.
He focused and remade the armor. It materialized quickly and easily, requiring less concentration than he recalled.
Right. Emergence.
Someone else was saying something. They’d been saying something, he realized.
“--Iron One?”
Ah. Must’ve been Malast.
Sure enough, when Hector looked up, there the Idle God was. Along with the Hun’Kui man, Eleyo.
Eleyo looked normal enough. But the jar that had been in Malast’s hands before was now in his, instead.
And it was open.
“Feeling better, Senmurai?” said Eleyo.
The man had two voices, Hector noticed, like that of a servant in a hyper-state.
Hector finally stood up fully. “Did you already...?” He didn’t know how to end that sentence.
“Yes,” said Malast. “It is done. Secho is reborn.”
Hector looked over the others. Diego, Yangéra, Carver, Elise, Manuel, Lorios, Mr. Sheridan, and the three other Hun’Kui, one of whom was unconscious and had been so all along.
They looked okay, all things considered--a bit awestruck and frightened, perhaps, but unharmed at least. Zeff and Axiolis were still in the viewing window above Malast’s head as well, though they did not look nearly as calm. If Hector hadn’t been so certain that he’d finished off that worm, then the silent mayhem in the viewing window might’ve made him worried that Zeff was fighting it now.
“We were waiting for you to awaken,” said Eleyo. Or was it Secho, now?
Hector was almost reluctant to ask, but he did so anyway. “...Why?”
“Before that,” said Eleyo, “I feel I should confess something. My name is not Eleyo. And I do not mean that it is no longer Eleyo. I mean it never was. I deceived you. And I wish to apologize.”
Hector had no response.
“My name is Royo Raju. Remember it well, for it will soon belong to a king.”
A chorus of unsettlement rose up from the two other conscious Hun’Kui in the room. They recognized the name, Hector figured.
“But there is more I should tell you,” Royo went on. “And perhaps you have realized this already, or perhaps you would have in the future, but I would like to say it now, regardless. It was I who caused your train to derail. It was I who brought those worms down upon us.”
Now it wasn’t just the Hun’Kui who were unsettled.
Hector thought back. Through all the chaos, the question of why the worms had first attacked had never really occurred to him. He hadn’t thought it was anyone’s fault.
But apparently, it was.
Royo Raju wasn’t done. “I have wronged you. I know this. I did what I had to do to escape a fate as wretched as any I can imagine, and you were all caught up in the dire consequences that followed.”
‘A good ten minutes or so,’ said Garovel.
Hector tried to pick himself up and found it difficult.
Oh, right. He couldn’t feel pain at the moment, but he didn’t have his cooling armor on, so the heat of the Undercrust was trying to melt his body again, competing with his regeneration and sapping the strength from his muscles.
He focused and remade the armor. It materialized quickly and easily, requiring less concentration than he recalled.
Right. Emergence.
Someone else was saying something. They’d been saying something, he realized.
“--Iron One?”
Ah. Must’ve been Malast.
Sure enough, when Hector looked up, there the Idle God was. Along with the Hun’Kui man, Eleyo.
Eleyo looked normal enough. But the jar that had been in Malast’s hands before was now in his, instead.
And it was open.
“Feeling better, Senmurai?” said Eleyo.
The man had two voices, Hector noticed, like that of a servant in a hyper-state.
Hector finally stood up fully. “Did you already...?” He didn’t know how to end that sentence.
“Yes,” said Malast. “It is done. Secho is reborn.”
Hector looked over the others. Diego, Yangéra, Carver, Elise, Manuel, Lorios, Mr. Sheridan, and the three other Hun’Kui, one of whom was unconscious and had been so all along.
They looked okay, all things considered--a bit awestruck and frightened, perhaps, but unharmed at least. Zeff and Axiolis were still in the viewing window above Malast’s head as well, though they did not look nearly as calm. If Hector hadn’t been so certain that he’d finished off that worm, then the silent mayhem in the viewing window might’ve made him worried that Zeff was fighting it now.
“We were waiting for you to awaken,” said Eleyo. Or was it Secho, now?
Hector was almost reluctant to ask, but he did so anyway. “...Why?”
“Before that,” said Eleyo, “I feel I should confess something. My name is not Eleyo. And I do not mean that it is no longer Eleyo. I mean it never was. I deceived you. And I wish to apologize.”
Hector had no response.
“My name is Royo Raju. Remember it well, for it will soon belong to a king.”
A chorus of unsettlement rose up from the two other conscious Hun’Kui in the room. They recognized the name, Hector figured.
“But there is more I should tell you,” Royo went on. “And perhaps you have realized this already, or perhaps you would have in the future, but I would like to say it now, regardless. It was I who caused your train to derail. It was I who brought those worms down upon us.”
Now it wasn’t just the Hun’Kui who were unsettled.
Hector thought back. Through all the chaos, the question of why the worms had first attacked had never really occurred to him. He hadn’t thought it was anyone’s fault.
But apparently, it was.
Royo Raju wasn’t done. “I have wronged you. I know this. I did what I had to do to escape a fate as wretched as any I can imagine, and you were all caught up in the dire consequences that followed.”
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