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abakersquest · 8 years ago

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CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT – SUMMIT

There was no way for Wally to know how long he’d been climbing for, twilight shaded clouds had gathered above him and robbed him of any sun or moon to track the passage of time. In reaching up for the next narrow handhold in the rock face, he quietly remembered Wistea's lesson on places such as this, never visited locales where spare time pools and the people in it leave the regular ebb and flow of the world behind.

With cold winds and thinning air beginning to dull his senses, and the effort of climbing numbing his fingers and toes, he set his focus squarely on the nearly sheer wall of stone that stretched on above him. He didn’t dare to look down from fear he’d lose any sense of progress, and quietly hoped his friends below weren't waiting too long.

---

Spires of spiked stone exploded all around Rozzi and Wistea, cutting them off from the blasted aside Polly. Each earthen pillar rose to a height of twenty feet, and turned in place to create another deadly arena for the Thorned Princess.

“Loves a stage, this one,” Rozzi said quietly.

“She did say she wanted to put our corpses on display the last time we fought.” Wistea replied pensively. “Maybe that sense of melodrama is something we can exploit?”

The Thorned Princess approached slowly, her arms akimbo. Both of them quick to notice she’d added a confident sway to her hips as she approached them undaunted. Rozzi took quiet umbrage with that fearless saunter of hers and was quick to form a strategy.

“Wisty,” she said quietly. “You got a trick for makin’ it hard to see?”

Her brow furrowed pensively for only a second or two before she gave a furtive nod.

Rozzi smirked. “When I give the word then, make it happen… ‘Til then, do your best to stay on your feet.”

Wistea nodded once more, then watched in absolute confusion as Rozzi tucked her weapon away and began to casually approach Kota’s general.

The Princess smirked. “What’s this? Hoping to split my attention? I’ve fought armies you sorry excuse for a throw pillow!” She swept one arm skyward and the earth ahead of her cracked like the shell of an egg.

Wistea barely managed to leap to one side as the crack suddenly opened to form an instant chasm, her arms just catching the lip of the retreating ground. With a thought, a large mushroom formed to give her feet some purchase and let her climb back up.

Rozzi however had simply set a foot to one side of the splitting earth, riding out the division with the perfect balance she’d earned from years of arduous training. With a simple pirouette she was back on two feet continuing her calm walk toward her enemy.

“Ah, not a plan to spit my focus but to exhaust my power… AS IF I WAS SOME SIMPLE MAGE!” The Thorned Princess struck the earth with her heel, a thundering cascade of fractures racing out over the ground from the point of impact. “CRYSTAL NECROPOLIS!”

Her mystically intoned voice shook the air as much as the landscape where, amidst an elaborate lattice of fissures, arose shimmering blades of crystal.

Wistea quickly crossed her forearms and crouched, shouting “ENDURING CASTANEA!” A hardy burr quickly formed a protective shell around her body, bouncing off the quickly forming crystalline spears.

Meanwhile, the air swam around Rozzi’s form, as her acrobatic skill and absolute calm afforded her the grace of a leaf, flittering on a breeze. She moved amidst the stabbing shards as if they weren’t spearing from the very earth beneath her. To any viewing this from above, she may as well have been dancing.

Now, many would consider Rozzi’s seemingly heedless march toward so deadly a foe an entirely foolish act. As the tumbling of Wistea’s armored shell finally slowed to a stop, she did her level best to banish those very thoughts. She held her resolve as one warrior among a stalwart and hardy few, all fighting for the survival of the world and its people; she merely had to trust in the abilities of those beside her as much as they trusted her. Still, she held her breath, braced for what fate may have met her friend, and allowed her self-made capsule to fade back into the ether.

Amidst ruined ground and a glittering forest of crystal spears Rozzi stood with her back mere inches from the Thorned Princess’ own. Her tail had wrapped itself around her waist as a second belt, and what Wistea could see of her face revealed she kept a single eye turned up toward her enemy.

From the back of the Princess’ left vambrace emerged a black blade of obsidian, and with speed Wistea’s eyes could barely follow she jerked her elbow back to cut the air where Rozzi’s head had been less than half a second ago.

Kota’s General uttered an almost silent frustration as she set to turn and try and face her much smaller opponent, only to find that Rozzi had continued to move, absolutely set on keeping her back toward her. A swipe here, a thrust there, yet Rozzi’s red fur was nothing more than the slimmest glimpse in the periphery of her vision. The red panda had become to her; a living shadow.

For Wistea, the grace and speed her dear friend exhibited was nothing short of a miracle to behold. But for Rozzi, it was tried and true training put to purpose. Her father had long since taught her how to move, silent and smooth, weaving through a crowd and lessening the loads of their pockets and belts with a touch as light as sunshine. She’d long since put the muscle memories of those days to use in acrobatic acts to delight and amaze. But here she was again, the shadow of a mark, waiting for the right openings.

‘Of course,’ Wistea thought. ‘There is no way she can use Earth Spells at that range without tearing the ground out from under herself, so Rozzi is forcing her to engage her physically. But… Can she even fight from that close?’

There was a single glint of steel and the sound of wind whistling through a narrow gap as a plate of armor from the Thorned Princess’ dress exploded away from the dueling duo.

The Thorned Princess shouted, “YOU REPUGNANT LITTLE-”

Another flash, the whistle of wind and another piece of armor was sent flying away.

“WHEN I GET MY HANDS-”

As another armor shard raced away from the conflict, it was then Wistea realized exactly how what she was seeing could even be possible. It wasn’t that Rozzi was outpacing her opponent; she was controlling the angle The Thorned Princess could react in, and perfectly predicting her next move. Her mind reeled with questions. Was it some attribute of Air Magic? A honed skill possessed only by the crafty red panda? But chief among these thoughts, how long could she possibly keep up this pace?

“ENOUGH!” The Thorned Princess howled, both her arms suddenly extending and thrusting into the ground at her sides. “I’LL TURN YOU INTO A BLOODY PULP FOR THIS!”

In a blink, Rozzi was already half the distance between Wistea and the incensed Princess. “WISTEA! NOW!”

The Planaetian quickly snapped to attention and pointed her open palm toward the Thorned Princess as the ground around her began to violently contort. She ignored the obviously oncoming threat, Rozzi had a plan and she simply had to trust her friend. From her hand emerged the seed head of a large dandelion, with a thrust of her arm a spray of its fruit quickly raced toward her target.

Within that same moment, Rozzi had wrapped her arms around Wistea’s waist, and the ground around the Thorned Princess began to explode as an enormous mass of thick spiked vines emerged.

Wistea clenched her fist, and the swarm of dandelion fruit formed a seething shell around the Thorned Princess’ head. As the words, “LION STORM” left her throat, her feet left the ground, and a powerful updraft shot both herself and Rozzi skyward. Below them, the entire floor of the rocky arena was covered in a dense growth of whipping spiked vines, like a pit of angry serpents.

The pair rose straight into the air, a few snaking vines jutting up after them. Far too soon, the pressure of wind giving them momentum began to ebb just as they reached height of the spire nearest them.

“Damn!” Rozzi lamented with strain in her voice. “Flying’s a lot harder with two people!”

Wistea threw a vine toward the spinning spire of stone, hooking onto one of the spikes to quickly yank them away from the ruinous battleground. A soft patch of shrubbery grew to soften their landing on the other side. Helping her friend to her feet, Wistea could hear the voice of the Thorned Princess beyond the wall of spires.

“WHERE ARE YOU?! ANSWER ME DAMN YOU! I’LL FIND YOU!”

Once back on her feet, Rozzi smirked knowingly. She cupped her hands near her mouth, and turned toward the enclosed battlefield. Wistea could see her shouting, but was confused as to why she couldn’t hear what she’d said. Before she could ask, a wobbling ball of magical air slipped away from her hands, and idly floated through the gaps in the turning pillars. It hovered only a few more feet before it popped, and from it exploded Rozzi’s voice, “SORRY STINKWEED! YOU MISSED!”

Wistea winced as more vines smashed about inside, adding chorus to the incensed screaming of the Thorned Princess. Then, several more bubbles of magical air drifted into view and beyond the pillars ahead.

“Whew,” Rozzi sighed out her exhaustion, slumping only slightly. “That should keep her busy for a bit. C’mon, let’s go find Polly and see if we ain’t got us some reinforcements, eh?”

“I don’t see her up here,” Wistea replied. “Maybe she went down the ridge?”

Rozzi nodded and started to walk toward a nearby slope when she quickly recalled what awaited them. “Wait, you mean where you set up that big pricker bush? Did you kept that thing on this whole time?!”

“It is a very basic construct Rozzi; I could be half asleep and keep it active.” The way down was a bit rocky, so Wistea took careful steps down and watched her footing. “It is the size of it that makes casting other spells difficult. You see, it is actually a matter of-”

Rozzi held her hand out to stop her.

Wistea quickly looked up.

Polly waved both her arms from atop the shoulder of Sho’ko. Behind them, the freed Guardians pulled their brethren from Wistea’s bramble bush. “HI GIRLS!” Polly shouted from her perch. “LOOK WHO I FOUND!”

The adamantine titan bowed his head toward the embattled duo. “Sho’ko, joyous in his greeting, is glad to see that you are unharmed. He could not have predicted such dangers would reach this far.”

“Just slap that on the list a’things you don’t know,” Rozzi muttered.

“Polly,” Wistea began, carefully eying the myriad of stone titans before her. “Are you certain you truly freed all of them?”

“Sure as the sunrise!” she happily exclaimed. “I mean, the lines were jumpin’ around a lot at first, bit like fishin’ in a squall. Then, when Sho’ko showed up, they all seemed to stop thrashin’ ‘round.”

“Sho’ko, ever resolute in his duties, was remiss to use his gifts against his brothers. In stillness however, they have found freedom.”

Though the more pressing matter of an enemy general violently thrashing at baseless echoes weighed on her mind, Sho’ko’s return set Rozzi’s eyes to drift pensively to the intimidating black peak in the distance. “So,” she spoke aloud. “Wally’s really climbin’ that…”

Sho’ko turned toward the mountain, unslung his war bell, and gently knocked the mouth of it against the ground. While the gesture had been a seemingly gentle one, the reverberations of it nearly shook Polly clean off him with a quavering squeak of a noise. He then turned back toward Rozzi. “The bearer of the goddess, resolute both in will and action, continues his journey toward the summit.”

Wistea gently placed her hand on Rozzi’s shoulder. “No need to worry, after everything Wally has been through, I doubt there would be anything all that daunting about simply climbing a mountain.”

An explosion of noise and force from above was followed closely by an enormous stone spire, doing exactly what stone spires shouldn’t as it soared over their heads and crashed in the distance. The sound that followed was something like a hundred bundles of old rope being strained to their limit, as from over the ridge emerged the slithering mass of thorn bearing vines belonging to the Thorned Princess. The general herself slowly followed after this writhing torrent, resembling more mollusk than flora as she perched herself above them all.

Wistea quickly waved her hand to banish the remaining brambles and free the still trapped Guardians. Those in position took ready stances and locked eyes with their former captor.

“Oh please,” her voice was more a mess of loud noise forced to fit the mold of speech. “I’ve already beaten you pathetic quarry leavings.”

If we must take an aside, it is to say this; life as the granddaughter of the world’s greatest sailor can do a great many things for the young lady in said position. In Polly’s case, it meant instincts honed from years of hard work in both calm and stormy seas that were ever ready to be deployed.

So, when Polly watched the Thorned Princess suddenly claw at the air with one hand, she knew in an instant both the tear and resulting cascade of red threads that emerged were things only she could see. With nary a pause, she sprang off Sho’ko’s shoulder, a plan having already formed. She reared back her fist and imagined it as a hammer, then envisioned the oncoming threads as a loose peg to be knocked right back into place. The magic of her light barrier took the shape of a pillar before her and, with the thrust of her fist, the solid shape of it rushed forward, shattering the threads and the otherworldly gash from whence they came.

She turned in the air with ease, and smiled broadly as she felt a gentle wind soften her landing. “Sorry!” she called up to the Thorned Princess, “no more playmates for you t’day!”

The assembled warriors could hear the myriad mass of plant matter creak and writhe, a horrible din of seizing thorned vines digging into the rocky outcrop beneath it.

“It’s a pity,” her horrid mangle of a voice seemingly emerged from every bit of stone around them all. “You all would have lived so much longer as servants to my lady’s will. Instead you’re all standing there, about to die pointlessly, with your hopes the Flarebearer will save you… But there is no hope… Because there is no shrine…”

---

All words for exhaustion having long been exhausted, Wally’s thoughts had become little more than a mumbling mess of half formed complaints. Really, it was just a wall of noise to keep him from thinking how truly tired he was. Every inch of him ached now; he couldn’t even keep his ears up anymore. He’d once held up hope for some narrow alcove, some perching place to rest himself, but found none in all his time climbing. It certainly hadn’t helped that he’d slipped and almost fallen more than a handful of times.

There was seemingly no end in sight, as in his tired eyes the peak of the mountain stretched on into the sky to a point of infinite height. He couldn’t tell if he was anywhere near a summit or if he’d never left the base of the mountain at all. Still, something drove him forward. He’d love to say it was the love of his family, the admiration of his friends, but the only thing he could call upon in that exact moment was absolute and complete stubbornness. He’d be damned if some miserable immobile rock heap was going to best him. So, when his hand reached up and found what could in no way, shape, or form, be anything less than a hand carved ledge, you can imagine the surge of adrenaline that shot through him.

With all the grace of a tumbling stack of dishes, Wally clambered up to the surprisingly warm stone-like floor and laid flat against it. He briefly debated kissing it in thanks for simply existing, but couldn’t manage the will to even turn his head. In time, and with unequal soreness in every inch of his being, he somehow managed to organize his limbs into motion. On legs that were more rope than rigid he finally took in the view of the Point of Origin.

However, his tired eyes were greeted by a most unwelcome sight. Before him was a ruin of glinting gilded stones in the barely standing form of a place of worship. Its walls and interior were smashed and broken by clearly tremendous forces, and whatever artistry had graced any of the shattered pieces and broken columns was now covered by the dust of its own ruination. With anxious and shaky steps, the exhausted wallaby carefully walked further into what must’ve once been a beautiful shrine.

“There has to be something,” he couldn’t help but say aloud. “Gods stood here… You can’t just break something like that, can you?”

Just then, amidst the sound of wind whistling past the broken walls, Wally could hear a faint sound from his bag, something like shards of glass being churned. Stiffly, he slipped it off his back and opened it, the speed of his memory lagging behind his hands. “That’s right,” he said softly, “The Key Stone.”

Wally struggled for a moment to lift it, as the stone’s strange tessellations had increased in both speed and vigor, now causing the surface of it to rapidly change shape. In his hands it seemed to randomly change weight, and slide uncomfortably against his palms. While carefully grappling with it, Wally had lifted it toward a beam of sunlight pouring in from a massive crack in the ceiling. The wallaby was soon awestruck as the light that entered the Key Stone seemingly swam amidst its bizarre and fantastic interior with truly unnatural smoothness. He’d known light to bend, or bounce, but never to curve or sway as it did before his eyes now. The glow of the Key Stone then began to intensify; forcing Wally to screw his eyes shut and turn his face away. With only his ears to rely on, a confounding cacophony filled the space around him with sounds akin, but also far removed, from metal and stone being struck together.

The glow soon subsided, and Wally dared to open his eyes. He gasped softly, as one must at such awe inspiring sights, from fear they might be startled by a louder exclamation and flee your vision. The shrine had seemingly been restored to it true glory, and every surface in the room, floor to ceiling, glowed with soft, warm light in colors so broad and vibrant that Wally could never name them all. The light moved just beneath the surface of the shrine’s unknown material the way oil does in water, flowing in a steady pulse to some melody that Wally couldn’t hear so much as feel.

In his hands the Key Stone ceased to be a weight and felt more like the firm grip of a friend guiding him toward something. Forcing himself to focus beyond the truly beauteous sights within the Point of Origin, Wally saw a short pillar in the center of the room. Its composition was that of simple carved stone, topped in a bowl, inside of which burned a squat orange flame.

“Well,” Wally said softly to himself. “If there’s anything in here that looks like an altar…”

He felt strangely unafraid of burning his hands as he moved the Key Stone over the fire, so much so it seemed more like the fire itself was telling him it was alright and that he wouldn’t burn. The flames moved around the stone as he set the crystal artifact down, seemingly indifferent to it. The Key Stone changed shape yet again, folding in on itself until it took the form of a ring around the fire. The strange crystal-like halo continued to turn in on itself and slowly rise up above the flames.

With each turn the small fire grew taller, and taller, until it exploded into a solid incendiary pillar. The ceiling of the shrine opened like a flower bud over the infernal tower and let the mounting fires stream toward the sky above.

---

Down below, just as Wally had reached the entrance to the Point of Origin, Sho’ko had stepped forward and begun to speak to the Thorned Princess.

“Sho’ko, wizened by time, has learned that this world is built upon ruination and reformation. What is can be broken, and what will be can be built upon those remains.” He lifted his war bell and pointed the mouth of it directly at her. “The shrine is as all that sits on this world, temporary, fleeting, breakable. But, from all ruins can great towers arise.”

The sky behind them all exploded as the column of sacred fire from the Point of Origin carved a line into the heavens.

“No… NO!” The Thorned Princess screamed in frustration, her deadly tendrils bashing apart the ground around her. “I DESTROYED THE SHRINE! THE KEY STONE SHOULD HAVE BEEN WORTHLESS!”

Sho’ko brought his war bell down hard, an earth cracking ring resounding from the strike. The ground beneath Kota’s General forcibly pistoned out from its firmament, knocking her both backward and off-balance. The other Guardians charged up the sides of the rocky outcrop, seeking to take advantage of the opening created by the greatest of their number. They myriad of mineral warriors fell upon her with great force, they seized her many vines, smashed what thorns dared try to harm them, pinned down her thrashing and surged against her threats and retaliatory strikes.

“DAMN YOU ALL!” She cried, her unearthly voice a soul piercing wail of fury and regret. “YOU WON’T STOP ME! I’LL CLIMB UP THE MOUNTAIN AGAIN AND RIP THE SOUL OUT OF THE FLAREBEARER WITH MY OWN TWO HANDS!”

Rozzi snorted incredulously, tapping the back of her sickle against her shoulder. “You ain’t even gotten past us yet, deary. Don’t go runnin’ after seconds when you haven’t even finished your first plate.”

The space around them all was instantly cold.

The air in their lungs grew heavy and acrid.

Off to the right of the battle, the world seemed to pinch in on itself before tearing open to reveal an enormous orange eye with a narrow and jagged pupil. From the blackest portion of this mystic eye, emerging as if from a pool of water, was none other than the dread witch herself, Kota.

It was unclear exactly how Rozzi, Wistea, and Polly knew it was her. There were almost no surviving accounts of her appearance, merely people surviving in her aftermath. It was as if the idea of the witch had snaked its way into their consciousness. Her dark grey scales, speckled with spots that idly shifted from orange to white and back again. Her robes and the sash that bound them to her waist were the darkest shade of black and purple they’d ever seen, and the flowed not like fabric ought to, but more like ink fused with smoke. Glistening golden bands on her arms and the charms that dangled from her broad brimmed hat served as accompaniment to the absolutely piercing shade of orange in her eyes.

She drifted forward the way moonlight fills a room, her bare feet never nearing the ground. Behind her, three crystalline spheres floated in a steady vertical orbit, each making a quite sort of hum.

“M-My lady,” The Thorned Princess broke the unholy silence. “F-forgive me… I… I was about to…”

Kota’s gaze, from the moment she’d appeared, was expressly fixed upon the distant pillar of fire that had risen from the Point of Origin. Almost casually, she held up a hand, and with that a Mobius Glass appeared in the sky above her General. Before Rozzi or the others could form a single syllable, the glass opened and the Guardians surrounding The Thorned Princess cried out in pain. In seconds their cries ceased, soon followed by a terrible din of cracking as their bodies collapsed under their own weight.

Sho’ko moved first, his aim to knock the Glass down or shatter it. Neither goal would be accomplished.

Kota moved her hand toward him, her crystal spheres sliding up and along the length of her arm, the first knocked into the second, the second into the third, and the third orb produced a thunderous yet precise stream of absolute force that launched him off into the distance, far from sight.

Polly moved next, forming a shell of light ahead of her as she readied her dagger and charged toward the witch.

The spheres flew from Kota’s arm and spun in a tight circle ahead of her hand, from them a beam of darkness, somehow blacker than the space between the stars shot forward and dashed against Polly’s barrier.

Polly’s cry of incredible effort was just barely heard over the mighty collision of magic, a sound that brought life back into the legs of Wistea and Rozzi. They buried their panic as deep as they could, and rushed around to either side of Kota.

The dark stream of energy suddenly collapsed and each of the three spheres flew at them faster than cannon fire.

Polly’s barrier shattered like so much glass as one crystal sphere dove through it to strike her in the chest.

Wistea had no idea what even hit her when she fell to the ground unconscious.

Rozzi tried to dodge, but the sphere still clipped her shoulder, knocking her clean off her feet. She tried to turn in the air, but botched the landing entirely, hitting the ground hard with her chest. It wasn’t the first hard fall of her life, and she’d be damned if it was the last. With a push off her uninjured arm she was back on her feet, adrenaline and grit dulling the pain in her. She saw Polly and Wistea were out cold, and Kota was slowly drifting closer.

She exhaled slowly, hoping to stop the shaking that started up in her limbs. She held up her sickle and forced every ounce of magic her body could muster into this next, and possibly final, strike.

“Eight gods… Into one moment…” A tempest formed around her. “From my soul… Into the world!” from the swirling winds, four distinct jet streams raced down to her extended arm forming a halo of highly compressed air. She brought her arm back and the turning of the halo tightened around her wrist. She thrust her arm forward and cried out, “ANEMOI CHORUS!”

An almighty collision of four winds created a swirling drill of unimaginable force that drove forward from Rozzi’s arm. A soul piercing shriek rang out as the very tip of it crashed again the sphere Kota had moved into its course. Rozzi dug her feet in, screamed against the strain, and focused every last iota of willpower into that single point.

There was the sound of a crack.

Kota’s sphere faltered for but a moment.

That’s when a second one swooped in and bashed into Rozzi’s torso, hard enough to send her rolling.

Dizzy now, gasping harshly for air, her sickle in the quickly blurring distance of her vision, Rozzi clawed at the earth under her hands. She was on her stomach again, the taste of blood in her mouth, none of that was new. She’d fallen down so many times before; it was like seeing an old friend. She’d fought, she’d stolen, she’d struggled, and she’d starved. But never, in all her years, had she ever stayed down. There was no name for whatever drove her body to move in that moment, that quiet little force in all living things that keeps them going when nothing else will. It got her up on shaking legs, and made her eyes gleam in hazy defiance.

She wondered, rather quietly, if this is what everyone felt facing death; this urge to see it coming if there was no chance to stop it.

A single crystal sphere lazily slid down into the center of her vision. It drew back toward Kota, like a notched arrow. There was a calm in her now, a thought had quieted any fears or doubts. She’d bought Wally time, time to do whatever needed to be done. When the chance came, she’d ask Hector if he felt the same way.

Just then, a feeling of warmth surrounded her, something that felt like waking up in the morning to the sun pouring in through your window. At first, she thought that might be what death felt like, but then she saw the strange shimmer on the crystal sphere. Fearless now, she turned her eyes away from Kota and looked for the source of the new light.

From the top of the black peak, the mountain where the gods reached down to create the world of Mondia, a sun had risen. The heavenly conflagration quickly became a hurtling meteoric inferno, exploding down toward the dread witch at unbelievable speed. With a grimace and the thrust of her arm she sent a single sphere to intercept the oncoming firestorm. However, in her haste, the sphere she sent forth was the one cracked by Rozzi’s final spell.

The sphere crashed into the forefront of the charging inferno and was pushed back; loud and undeniable cracking could be heard as whatever mighty force resided within the ball of flames came to bear. Pushed to mere feet away from its master, the broken sphere finally gave way to the superior strike and shattered with an almost heavenly ring of metal resounding in the aftermath.

The force of the sphere’s destruction blew away the bulk of the fire and inside, Stellar Flare in hand, was Sir Wally Bartholomew Walter.

In his eyes shone absolute determination, and at his back was a godly halo of flames. The wheel of fire behind him set to turn, and Wally gave a tremendous shout, “EMPEROR’S CORONATION” With an upward slash of the Stellar Flare an instant vertical disc of fire launched forward toward Kota.

Her remaining spheres collided before the course of the blazing construct, spinning in unison to shield their master from its power.

Wally quickly leapt out to the side of his own spell, and then launched himself toward Kota, the light of the true sun in the sky glinting off the enchanted blade as it swung down toward its target, only to strike at air.

Upon his landing, the brilliant red jewel in the hilt of the Stellar Flare flashed and Wally turned to see Kota had reappeared beside The Thorned Princess.

“I don’t suppose,” Wally called up to her, “that if I asked you nicely, you’d just stop?”

Kota stared down at him in absolute silence, and then vanished along with her general.

“… Worth a shot,” Wally sighed, sheathing the Flare, the strange halo of fire behind him fading into the ether. He then turned at the unmistakable sound of knees hitting the ground and saw Rozzi desperately fighting to stay conscious.

She tried to call to him, but her voice was far too soft. She tried to reach out to him, but her arms were too weak. She started to fall, but he was already there to catch her.

Wally carefully cradled her in his arms, some of his concern fading when he saw the soft and tired smile on her face and heard her whisper, “you… big… show-off.”

He laughed softly, “gotta keep up with you somehow.”

She tried to keep speaking, but only managed a few noises.

“Shhh, that’s enough for now,” he gently caressed her cheek. “You go on and rest, I’ll be here when you’re done.”

She leaned her cheek into his palm, and let the world slip away.

<[Chapter 37]–[Index]–[Chapter 39]>

#A Baker's Quest #writing

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abakersquest · 8 years ago

Note

I want to know more about the main character of A Baker's Quest. What's he like, generally?

‘Personable’ would absolutely be the word to use when describing our Wally B. Walter. Everyone’s equal in his eyes until they give them a reason to think more or less of them. It’s a personal belief hewed from working amongst many cultures and teachers, and set the simple philosophy that, “we’re all the same when we’re starving.“

He’ll address children as “Sir” and “Madam”.

Be courteous whenever possible.

But he’ll still have a quiet little blip of sarcasm to help deal with his frustrations or the incredulous events that come with day to day life.

As everything in his life becomes increasingly ridiculous over the course of the story… That particular little spark starts burning a little brighter each day.

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abakersquest · 8 years ago

Note

What kind of currency does ABQ have and/or what's it closest to irl?

As of the current state of the world, there’s no universal world currency.

The Icthy Isles use coinage by the name of “Shilds” that resemble the exteriors of muscles, clams, and scallops. The size determining the value.

The nation of Animana subsist on “Glints;” simple copper coins who’s value is determined by the small semi-previous stones that are embedded in the center of each coin. Lapis Lazuli being the least valuable, Diamond being the most. Depending on the merchants you meet in the world, they might take them for the value of the stone inside, but devalue it due to the effort needed to pluck them from the coin.

Insicai and Planae subsist entirely on barter based economies that are quite insular and based on what you could loosely call ‘market research’ in that they both have individuals who track the amount of trade on certain items and produce annual value guides on goods and services. Animana and the Isles use these occasionally to adjust the value of their own currencies.

As Sauro is both war-torn and isolated entirely from every nation, they no longer have a functioning economy, and it’s pretty much every Sauroian for themselves.

—

Exactly 1% of this actually features in the story, but I wanted to have it ready just in case it did.

Because I’m insane.

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abakersquest · 8 years ago

Text

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN – A HARSHER FLAME

Vaporous mist arose from every surface of the ice cavern as an atmospheric tide of heat bloomed from the Halcyon Knight. Her seemingly placid gaze lazily slid from one opponent to the next as each of them silently planned an opening gambit.

“Good,” she finally said in a calm voice. “Not a one of you flinched or even took that threat seriously. I’d honestly hate to find out any of you were cowardly without the Flarebearer around.”

They didn’t dare take eyes off the tigress, not even to look at one another for some clue to a joint strike. She moved with confidence, and her narrow golden eyes seemed to drill into each of them as she continued to slowly turn in place.

“Careful now,” she chided. “You really should be paying less attention to my face.”

Hyla was the first to turn her eyes downward just as mystic fires began to dance on the back of the knight’s leg. From there came an explosion of noise and a flash of light as a jet of flame shot from the back of her ankle. The force of the focused burst launched her leg into a sweeping kick that left an infernal wake which quickly raced out in a circle around its creator. As Hyla raised her arms to try and defend herself, she was already off her feet being dragged by her shoulders out of the mouth of the cave.

Confusion quickly fell away as the concentrated wave of mystical fire raced past her eyes. She followed the shimmering crescent as it barely skimmed the back of Gan, who’d grabbed her in an instant and dragged her to safety before she even realized it.

The lightning quick kestrel both grunted and recoiled from the intense heat, forcing them both down into the thankfully soft snow. Hyla quickly shook off the rough landing and turned her notice to Gan, seeing him hurriedly flop onto his back and sigh with relief as the snow made short work of the dangerous heat thereupon.

“Just missed,” he managed to say. “If that hit, we’d’ve been cooked alive…”

When she took a breath to respond, Gan sprang to his feet. “The Captain and Argus are still in there! I couldn’t see if they dodged it or not! Come on!”

“Gan wait!” she called out as he took one bold step forward, slipped on the snow, and firmly introduced his beak to the terrain below.

He said something muffled yet clearly frustrated as Hyla finally got back on her feet. Snow and ash had some commonality, so while it was uncomfortable to spread her toes out onto the frigid mass, it improved her traction just as she’d hoped. “Gan,” she said calmly as she moved to help him stand. “They’re alright; I can still sense them in the cave. Now, there’s no point of us rushing back in there without a plan, so let’s take what time we have to-”

A jagged ice tower to the left of them exploded as a massive cannonball treated it like the finish line of a race. Both quickly turned their eyes toward the oncoming fortress, a rolling disaster headed straight for them and the Aspect of Air beyond.

“Warriors!” Illica’s voice called to them from the mouth of the cave. “I shall help your friends inside; Jinra will assist you in destroying the ship!”

Gan looked to Hyla, “That’s… That’s the dragon’s name, right?”

A roar that was more detonation than animal cry shook the air for miles as the great serpentine beast rose like a geyser of scales and fury from the ice cavern.

“Yes, Gan.” Hyla finally said, finding it slightly harder to breathe at the mere sight of the great beast. “Illica… How exactly do we…” Hyla’s voice trailed off as she turned back toward the strange snow fox, or rather, to where she once stood.

“I think we just follow it,” Gan said, a mixture of awe and fear in his voice as his eyes followed the dragon’s course across the sky toward the approaching warship. He flinched as exploding shells filled the sky with blossoms of fire and noise above them, just missing their massive target. “But uh... Maybe not too close?”

“No,” Hyla said plainly. “Argus said the last one was powered by a big furnace on the inside. So, we go in, destroy the furnace, and that should stop it dead. There’s just one thing we have to do first.”

Gan shimmied uncomfortably, feeling like a coiled spring as he looked away from the firefight to Hyla. When he met her eyes, he flinched ever so slightly.

“Gan,” her voice was calm despite the volume it needed to overcome the explosions above and gusting winds below. “I know I can trust you. Without thinking twice you put yourself in harm’s way to save me just now… But you need to know, you can trust me too.”

She could feel it wash over him, the strange unknown sensation she’d felt as they walked into the cave before. His eyes tried to look past her and his hands clenched into fist for a second or two. She could see him struggle and fumble to say something as an argument took place at the forefront of his mind.

She decided planting the seed of an idea was enough for now; the nascent notion that she’d fight as hard as he would for her. She turned away and faced the task at hand, her mystically aided senses giving her a clear view of the oncoming mechanical danger. A multitude of cannons on the warship’s side pivoted skyward as the dragon above dodged shot after shot. It soon closed the gap and crashed violently against the ship’s prodigious armor to seemingly little effect. With a breath to steady herself and erase the distractions of her surroundings, Hyla dragged open the curtain of the world and forged a Dark Vault.

Now, for anyone else, passing through these inky black portals is an instant event. For those gifted enough to make them however, there is something else. It’s best described as a feeling of a truly greater force far beyond anything they could make sense of, moving about an infinite space that isn’t so much “dark” as it is “full of potential.” Tetsudin would often describe it to her as the moment before you turn on the light in your bedroom, the anticipation of something familiar amidst unfamiliar shadows.

But this time, this time she turned away from the path she’d carved in the endless twilight. Despite all her training and concentration, a radiant force in the immeasurable distance turned her attention toward it. This momentary distraction, this sight of something that demanded it be seen threw her off their landing. What should’ve been an exit onto a well chosen perch amidst the ruined remains of the rear starboard prop’s assembly was, instead, the open air before it.

The momentum of their steps found no floor on the other end of the Dark Vault. Instead, the pair tumbled helplessly through the frigid air before Gan flared out his wings and straightened himself out.

Driven by inborn instinct, he summoned a curtain of ion excited air and bounded off it like a springboard toward the retreating sound of Hyla’s surprised shout. Every Orni’Hulan is born to catch their young should they fall in their efforts to fly, and even at a young age they have the strength and natural skill to do just that. He knew if he simply caught her, whatever limb he grabbed would dislocate. He knew that if he tried to change her momentum too suddenly, both of them would come out with broken bones. He rushed down to match her speed, hooked his legs around her and, with all his might and prowess, put a curve to both their trajectories that just barely saw them skirt the icy ground below.

With some effort to fight the turbulent wind surrounding the rolling fortress, Gan managed to find them a perch lower than they’d originally aimed. He put Hyla down as gently as he could before landing himself and helping her up. “What happened? Why did we miss?”

“There… When we were crossing I felt this… I don’t know what it was but it was massive…” She closed her eyes and tried to visualize it, to put forth more than just an oncoming rush of sensation to describe whatever it was she’d seen, but nothing took shape. A sigh rolled out of her throat. “This probably isn’t helping our little trust issue, is it?”

When she looked to Gan again, the great mess of feathers on the top his head rose as did the strange mixture of emotions and thoughts she’d tried to ignore. She did her best to give him a smile to try and calm him down, “It’s alright, we just-”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you!” He shouted, and then clamped his beak shut. She could hear him grumble and the talons on his toes rake the metal flooring beneath them. Finally he screwed his eyes shut and continued at the same volume. “I do trust you! Really! I just…” he quieted himself as the next words came. “Argus said I shouldn’t apologize… That I should just show you I’m sorry, but… I… I really wanted to say it, that I’m sorry for how I treated you.”

A genuine smile crossed her face and she rested her hand on his shoulder. To her it’d been nothing more than a few sour looks and an air of somewhat overdone caution, both absolutely minor slights she could easily understand. To the young kestrel just entering into the wider world, it felt like some incredible insult to a friend. What else could she have said but, “Apology accepted.”

Gan’s spirits and shoulders rose in time with one another and the shine of confidence in his eyes sparkled without reservation.

“Now, let’s see if we can’t take the heart out of this metal monster.”

“Right!” Gan looked around at the ruined structure the Prominence Cannon had left for them to traverse, hoping to see something that looked like a way in. The damaged metal ahead of him exploded outward as a forked black blade tore a hole through it. The imposing mass of a hulking Black Rock Knight soon followed, wrenching through the metal hull as if it were little more than thick paper.

Gan may have had the reflexes to dodge the stone titan’s sudden emergence, but nowhere near enough to put his knives between an oncoming sword swipe and Hyla. With Storm Magic aiding his perception, he could only watch as the deadly blade closed in on her while she crossed her arms over her chest. He stared on in stark surprise as it passed through her without a drop of blood and rammed into the ruined support strut just off to her side.

And yet, despite the acceleration of his sight, he blinked only once and saw that, in that partial second where his eyes closed, Hyla and the offending knight had changed places. The boost in speed ebbed away and a line appeared in the stony figure’s midsection where Hyla had once been.

The slowed tone of her voice reached his ears with a single magically intoned word, “Imposition.”

When it tried to turn, the upper body of the Black Rock Knight slid right off. It tumbled downward, leaving its legs alone on the platform. They took a few blind steps, collided with some previously melted beam, and fell down after its better half.

Before he could even find the words to question the events that unfolded, Hyla spoke. “I don’t like that it knew exactly where we were. Come on, let’s go before more of them can pin us in.”

Gan shook off any lingering curiosity and nodded, quickly making his way through the torn opening. Hyla moved to follow, turning back toward the ice cavern where she could still sense signs of Argus and Blackeye. Thankful for that much, she didn’t think to question why she couldn’t suss out any sense of Illica.

---

Moments ago, Blackeye had barely managed to command the ice at his side to rush across the open air as water and block the oncoming burst of compressed mystic fire. Just past the resulting steam he caught sight of Gan’s tail feathers rushing out the cave’s opening. He did his best not to let the satisfaction he felt at the boy’s performance show on his face. Pride in the doings of the young came so easily with old age.

“You’re right to feel proud, Captain Cofresi. For such a young flyer, he’s certainly got talent. My ‘Drake Smile’ is quite hard to dodge.”

He couldn’t help the annoyed grunt at the even keeled speech of the Halcyon Knight standing before him. He didn’t need the empathic sense Fire Mages possessed to know it wasn’t a statement fueled by brash overconfidence.

She carefully adjusted her gauntlets as she spoke. “You should also feel proud yourself… It can’t be easy for such a seasoned fellow to forcefully turn ice back into water in less than a second. I can see why Vizier Bulfo finds you the second biggest threat of this little band of heroes.”

“I suppose we’re to presume the first is Wally then?” Argus said; the stock of the Thunderhead firmly braced to his shoulder, its flared barrel pointed squarely at the tigress.

“Don’t engage, Mister Cael.” Blackeye cautioned. “You might not know it from our friendly Flarebearer, but thems with fire like to chatter so’s to get in your head. Makes dealin’ with ‘em some pretty nasty business.”

“He’s right, you know,” she added smoothly.

Argus’ eyes narrowed. “I’ve fought my fair share of Fire Mages during the war, Captain. I can assure you, she won’t find me an easy mark.”

“Ooh, I do believe you offended your friend, Captain Cofresi…” Her smile was far too cheerful to be believed. “You did hear that bitter little undertone there, right?”

Blackeye was as still as a stony shoreline at low tide, he didn’t even blink.

She turned to Argus instead, and found him the equivalent of a notched arrow, ready to strike down prey.

“My,” she said with a slight giggle, scratching the back of one of her ears. “I might have picked the wrong dance partners.”

The first thing was the smell in the air. Past the stale smell of old ice, the brightstone in Argus’ weapon, and the subtle hint of char all Fire Mages bore. Blackeye’s mind called up the image of a paraffin lamp, and the lingering bittersweet smell as one replaces its fuel. Before a word could be spoken, and his vaunted sense of danger could warn him, the air around their bodies was filled pinpricks of free-floating light, each barely half an inch away.

“There now, those should even things out, and give us time to properly chat!” The tigress smiled brightly. “My name is Pan Diar, the Halcyon Knight of Fire. It’s a pleasure to make both your acquaintances.”

Blackeye huffed out his nostrils.

Argus rolled his eyes.

She sighed. “My but you two are as stoic as they come… I really would’ve been better off with that Orni’Hulan and Hyla Areo. Now she’d be fun to talk to, especially after finding out what happened to her old master.” She shrugged casually, “but that’s not the bed I made, so why complain about not getting to sleep in it. Instead, I’ll just get right to it and ask. Do either of you know where I could find the Aspect of Air?”

“S'pose it don’t do us any good to try and lie to a Fire Mage, eh Argus?” Blackeye commented.

“Quite so, captain. Shall you do the honors, or will I?”

“Well, you’re the scholarly fella here; she’d believe you over me.”

“Tut-tut, captain. You’re a proud and practiced explorer of the sea; your experience makes you the better choice.”

One of Pan’s ears twitched. “Well, it’s obvious to anyone with a brain you’re both stalling… But neither one of you can seem to agree on what you’re stalling fo-”

And then the Dragon roared.

Its mighty cry coupled with the shifting of its massive body created a maelstrom within the cave. The tiny dots of fire were blown away like so many embers, followed by both their master and would be victims. The three tumbled down a winding tunnel of glacial blue, before landing in a cave of glimmering crystals. Blackeye recognized the particularly luminous stones as the same kind he’d used to light his home. He would much rather have had that be a nice recollection, instead of a passing thought when his shoulder bashed through a particularly large one.

Argus barely managed to kick off another large crystal himself, instead rising too close to its sharp edged siblings in the cave’s ceiling. They tore bits of his clothes and scratched at his carapace, but worst of all cut a small gash in his ammunition bag. Several ampoules of his magical cultivations set to twirl in the air and leave his field of view before the winds died down, and he was harshly dropped into a patch of small glowing mushrooms.

“Mycena Cryphagia,” Argus groaned as he picked himself up. “The Crystal-Eater Mushroom. I should remember to collect a sample before I go.”

He turned to take in the surroundings of this new underground chamber to see Pan Diar, as a true credit to her genus, had landed squarely on her feet. Her fang filled smile was as unwelcome sight, as were the glimmering dots of light under her command. The flock of sparks quickly closed the gap between them. With no other choice, Argus leveled the Thunderhead and fired whatever was in the barrel with the singular mental imperative of defense. A sheet of ionized air blossomed from the barrel like a cast net, the small dots of light sticking to it readily.

Pan Diar’s mystically intoned voice carried easily across the crystalline cavern, “Wisp Swarm.”

The lights detonated.

The electrical net shattered.

The blast wave hit Argus full on, launching him helplessly toward a far wall. The air in his lungs harshly pushed out on impact, and his shaken senses turned the world into a painful smear all around him. He shook his head to try and clear away at least a fraction of the blur, silently grateful to have been born an Insicai; with a hardy exoskeleton that could take so much force and not give way. He knew however, that one more burst like that, even at a distance, would cause far more permanent damage.

He was also grateful for another gift of his biology, as his antenna twitched and felt the air move around what could only be an approaching Halcyon Knight. She said something he couldn’t hear over the muffled ringing in his head, prepared a witty remark regardless, and found something odd happened as he began to say it.

It was an unnatural sort of cold that moved around him at first, then for a singular moment felt as if it’d passed through him. Suddenly the wall at his back was simply gone and replaced by a strong hand with webbed fingers, keeping him from falling backward.

“-er Ca-”

A voice just barely rose above the bell resounding in his head, it sounded familiar.

“-On Mister Cael, ne… you to find your feet.”

He blinked, the voice was gruff yet not unwelcome. The world finally came back into focus and at his side stood Captain Blackeye. “Wh-… What… When did you…”

“Get your eyes front now that ya uncrossed ‘em. That’ll tell you.”

Argus could finally make out the razor focus of the Captain’s expression and followed the length of his gaze over to where he assumed he’d been standing just before now. Before him, the Halcyon Knight of Fire launched volley after volley of magical conflagrations at a seemingly amorphous fog. Amidst the concentration of otherworldly condensation he could just make out the slimmest view of Illica, the snow fox they’d met earlier before the knight attacked.

Now that he thought on it, he had no memory of her dodging the opening attack, or tumbling down the tunnel with them.

“Now this is entirely unfair!” Pan Diar shouted. “Why can’t I hit you?!”

“Why?” Illica teased, her approach toward the knight entirely unhindered. “I thought Fire Mages always had an answer to everything.”

The tigress shouted in frustration, fires beneath her feet exploding and launching her through the air. She fired off fireballs the entire way, each simply slipping by their target and splashing pointlessly against the cave floor. It didn’t make any sense, no magic she knew of could make someone so seemingly untouchable. Worst of all, her natural empathic gift felt nothing from this approaching oddity, while every other sense she had screamed, ‘Don’t let it touch you.’

She landed, then quickly sprang back to keep distance between the snow fox and herself. She forced the words Illica had spoken to grow louder in her mind, ‘fire mages had an answer to everything.’ The stripes in Pan’s fur made the furrow of her brow all the more prominent, a frustrated growl boiled up from her throat before she closed her eyes and stood up straight, the end of her tail impatiently tapping against the floor. “You know what? You’re right. I ignored it because it seemed kind of a silly idea at first, but seeing how this is turning out? It must be the best answer!”

Two winding serpents of flame slowly twisted their way from her shoulder and over the surface of her arm. Slowly, she held it up and pointed her flat palm toward the ceiling. The magical fires slid up toward her open hand and pooled there, creating a beacon of blazing light.

Blackeye smirked and whispered, “Now’s our chance, Cael. I know exactly what she’s about to do. You still able to lift that cannon of yours?”

Argus thumbed the hammer and turned the barrel of The Thunderhead, “Absolutely.”

The air around them began to bake and the light in Diar’s palm surged, her voice calling forth a familiar spell in a foreign voice, “DRAGON’S CALDERA!” She slammed the ethereal flames down against the floor of the cavern, creating an infernal tsunami in every direction around her.

The captain brought his harpoon down in the motion of a sweeping strike, a deluge of water forming a small barrier around himself and Argus. “NOW ARGUS, HOP ON!” Before the grasshopper could respond, Blackeye thrust his harpoon forward and called out, “SLIPSTREAM!” From the end of his bejeweled weapon a rushing bridge of water began to race toward the offending Halcyon Knight.

Without another thought, Argus sprang onto the water and raced along its length. As he lined up his shot, he could hear Blackeye strain and feel the watery path falter. He didn’t dare look back; he couldn’t miss this chance. Just as the aquatic construct beneath his feet began to fade away, he leapt for all he was worth, his momentum carrying him well past his target. Still in motion, he flipped over in the air; his legs extended for both balance and to cease his turn.

His antenna recoiled at the intense heat below them.

He held his breath to slow his heart and steady his aim.

Seconds turned into an infinity as a single opportunity presented itself.

Pan Diar barely turned in time to see the Thunderhead unleash its power, a massive hand made of clay, exploding out of its flared barrel. The earthen magic broke her concentration instantly and the fire below evaporated as Argus tucked his head and let the top of his shoulders roll onto the ground, followed by the rest of him. Not his tidiest landing, but certainly not a deadly one.

Picking himself up slowly, Argus saw Illica float down into view on a small cushion of fog, and Captain Blackeye moving closer, rubbing his shoulder.

“Damn,” he spoke with some stiffness. “That landing hurt me more than I thought, sorry about that, Mister Cael.”

Argus tried to stand up straight and present himself with propriety, and then very painfully curled in on the sudden throbbing ache in his torso. “Suppose… We’re both worse for wear… Captain.”

Both warriors quickly levied their weapons at the collapsed Knight as she loudly growled and set fire to her bindings. The clay baked and hardened around her body, turning an admittedly lovely shade of earthenware red.

Pan’s fire died down and she sighed, “I hate pottery…”

A few moments passed and Illica saw Argus and Blackeye share a curious glance before going back to watching the downed knight. “Are the two of you waiting for something?”

“Aye,” Blackeye said without looking up. “Usually these youngins pull a little vanishin’ act when they can’t fight no more.”

“What say you dear,” Argus cut in. “Has your tiresome toad of a leader finally abandoned one of you to the cause?”

The tigress was still for a few seconds before squirming under her rigid confines. “Nope,” her voice returned to a seemingly ineffable calm. “I’m just not done yet.”

Blackeye scoffed, “Darlin’ if you think for one second you’re gettin’ past the three of us to the Aspect, you got another thing comin’.”

“Very true, I’d never get past all three of you. In fact, with your experience and abilities, I’m completely outmatched. Also, since Vizier Bulfo hates sending out too many of us at a time, I can’t expect reinforcement. But see, I figured something out.” She squirmed around a bit more, managing to turn her gaze toward Illica. “You… You’re not really here… That’s why I couldn’t hit you or feel you even while you’re standing right in front of me. So I got to thinking, ‘If I can see you but not touch or sense you, what are you?’”

Pan Diar’s fist exploded through the baked clay, a Mobius Glass firmly clutched within. “You’re the wind.”

Argus tore the ground beneath his feet as he jumped toward Illica to push her out of the way, only to pass right through her and tumble to the ground. He could only watch as the entirety of her being became a narrow band of vapor, inhaled by the small magical artifact.

Blackeye thrust his harpoon as hard as he could, shattering through the hardened clay, just grazing the tigress as a Dark Vault opened beneath her.

Once she’d vanished, a victorious little titter from her hung in the air far longer than either of them would’ve liked.

Then something else came, something gradual but not beyond notice. The air felt wrong as they breathed, not thin, but still missing something they knew it should have needed.

Blackeye sighed. “Old Poda did tell us there’s more’n one way for’em to get what they need.”

Argus felt heavy as he stood back up. He looked to the half destroyed clay hand and said, “I never would’ve guessed it could take the shape of a person…”

“That’s the way of the world, Mister Cael. Always throwin’ you a rogue wave or a sudden squall.” There was a solid moment of loud rumbling above them. “And we ain’t in calm waters just yet.”

He made a small noise in agreement before looking around and seeing one of his small magic ampoules in the distance. “You go on ahead, Captain. I need to find my cultures; some of them fell out of my bag on our way down here.”

Blackeye nodded firmly then made his way toward the exit.

As Argus did his best to suppress feelings of dismay and failure for later review, he walked over to the small glass vial and tried focusing instead on feelings of pride that his glasswork held up as well as he’d hoped. Then he saw something just beyond it that made all of that go away.

The softly glowing patch of flowers, thriving in a place with no natural sunlight, would be enough to give him pause on their own. But what they’d grown around, what they came to cradle in the course of time, was clearly a very old skull. One that made Argus wish he was less observant, and less able to identify species and genus from bone structure alone.

The weight of emotion on his heart brought him down to one knee. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, recalling a soft prayer he’d heard once in his travels. Whatever Illica had been, a willful ghost or the power of a god using the visage of a dead traveler to defend itself, he knew in his heart she most assuredly deserved better.

He scooped up the vial, straightened himself as best he could, and let these revelations become fuel to the fire of his resolve.

<[Chapter 36]–[Index]–[Chapter 38]>

#A Baker's Quest #Writing

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abakersquest · 8 years ago

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THE CHARACTERS PAGE HAS ITS FIRST OUNCE OF ACTUAL CONTENT

More will fill in between chapters since drawing is an incredibly time consuming process for me and writing at the same time would mean not getting both done all that well, so... YEAH!

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abakersquest · 8 years ago

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CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX – WHERE STONE STANDS IDLE

As Polly increased power to the skiff’s engine to avoid the clasping claws of the colossal crustacean, Sho’ko spoke. “Hold fast your course, should we lose sight of the black peak, we shall not find our way again.”

“KINDA HARD WITH THE WHOPPIN’ GREAT BEASTIE ABOUT TO DICE US IN HALF!” Polly shouted while keeping the mountains lined up in her sight, despite the ship’s increased wobble at this speed.

Wally was still desperately fighting off panic when he allowed adrenaline and fear to boil up something useful in him; a plan. It was bold, desperate, and exactly the sort of ridiculous thing that had carried them this far. In a single motion he turned to face the panicked Planaetian sitting behind him. “Wistea!”

Her attention snapped to him immediately.

“How long can you make those vines of yours?”

“I-I-I.” She clenched her fist and straightened her posture to fight against rightfully present fear. “I do not know; I’ve never had to use them for anything further than fifty feet.”

“Then I suppose its time we both found out exactly how much that little bauble in your chest has to contribute.”

“Hang on!” Rozzi called out, a slight tremor in her aggravated tone. “I think you and I have been too close for too long, because I’m pretty sure I know what you’ve got planned!”

Wally’s expression was a potent blend of terror and courage, giving him a slightly crazed smile that suited someone about to do the most insane thing they’ve ever done in their entire life. And, with the way Wally’s life had gone these past few months? That was saying something. Gently, he took one of her hands, and as calmly as he could manage, asked, “If you have a better plan, I would surely love to hear it.”

The red panda’s face was a sour tapestry of regret and frustration as she silently struggled in vain.

He nodded solemnly, “I’ll take that to mean ‘best of luck out there, try very hard not to die.” He looked to everyone. “Now, here’s the plan. Wistea, you keep a vine around my waist and I’ll handle the rest. Polly when Rozzi gives you the signal you open the top of this ship so I can get out.”

“GET OUT?!” Wistea and Polly shouted in unison.

“The only way we’re getting to Krust Mountain is through him!” Wally pointed at their titanic threat just as another claw strike approached. “ROZZI!”

She clenched her fist together and called out. “OPEN IT NOW!”

The canopy popped open like the lid of a mason jar, a shimmer of mystically locked air around them keeping the wind sheer off their faces. Wistea was careful as her vines knotted themselves around Wally’s waist, confirming with a furtive nod she was ready.

Taking a deep breath was all he could to do to steady himself as he took the Flare in hand and leapt out into the open air. He hoped beyond reason what he was about to try would work. The force of the wind now pushing against his body sent him reeling backward through the sky until the vine around his waist pulled taut. In the skiff, Wistea had almost been yanked out of her seat if not for the quick and sturdy grip of Sho’ko. She grunted in courageously muted pain as Wally traveled in a bizarre arc at the end of her vines.

As his momentum began to falter and the force of wind slowed him even more, Wally flattened out his feet, centered himself as best he could and focused the flow of his magic to a place he’d never sent it before. From their view aboard the skiff, it appeared as if an explosion had suddenly engulfed the heroic wallaby. But from out of the sudden plume of flame he exploded, racing at top speed toward the inbound pincer. The Stellar Flare shone in the light of the sun, a truly dazzling sight as it caught the lip of the aggressor’s limb. With impossible strength, Wally knocked it away, the Stellar Flare ringing out like a church bell.

As the claw recoiled, so too did Wally down toward the ocean. The lifeline around his waist wrapped around the hull of the Skiff as he traveled in another broad arc toward the monster’s other offending appendage. With no other way to close the distance between the ship and it in time, Wally reared back the Flare and readied a spell. With all the fire he could muster he cried out, “DRAGON’S CALDERA!” A pillar of flame erupted outward from his sword swing and crashed against its gigantic target. The great beast shrieked; a horrible piercing noise, as it pulled its bright red claw away from the blast.

Polly called out to her passengers. “We’re getting close now! Pull him back in, Wisty!”

“Right!” she grunted, then she huffed, then she painfully strained. “I… I can’t! It-it-it isn’t working!”

Without a single word, Sho’ko moved closer and took hold of Wistea’s vines directly, pulling Wally in. As said wallaby felt the tendrils cinch around his waist with every tug, he sheathed the Flare and started to climb along the vine with hopes to meet them half way. It was then he felt an unexpected jerk.

“Oh! Oh no!” Wistea called out. “It’s snapping! That was too much too fast!”

“Wally!” Rozzi called out toward him, her voice lost in the strangeness of her own mystical barricade and the rushing air beyond.

But he could see her, in the whipping winds and uncontrollable sheer induced tumble, he caught sight of her long enough to know the threat was immediate. He steeled himself for the snap to come and held his breath as the vine finally gave way and he belonged to gravity once more. He shut his eyes, ignored his every sense and once more channeled the flame at the heart of him to burst forth from his soles. There was more focus, more shape to them than the initial explosion. A roaring cascade of focused flames pushed Wally against all natural forces and sent him racing back toward the skiff, his arm outstretched the whole way. His fingers just barely hooking onto the opened canopy, as every free hand inside quickly snatched up his wrist and yanked him inside.

To many, this would be the ideal moment to catch one’s breath, as the Skiff traversed the edge of the rocky isle atop the enormous crab at last. But Wally’s breath catching was interrupted by the firm tug Rozzi gave his shirt. “Wally,” Her voice was a readied dagger in a dark alley. “You knew you could do that, right? That whole flying trick just now is something you had ready, right?!”

Wally was silent for a moment, as it was one that might have called for a white lie. As he quickly muddled it over, he could feel her growing more frustrated with his silence. “Well,” he finally managed in his most apologetic tone. “I mean if that blue-tongued fellow could fly with his magic, there certainly wasn’t a reason I couldn’t.”

“Wally!” she bit her lower lip, clearly swore several times into it before finally letting him go. “I can’t stop you from doing things like that, can I?”

He wasn’t quite sure why, but a smile seemed to settle on his face. “If I’m honest, it’s more that you make me brave enough to try them.”

She forcibly frowned and crossed her arms. “Don’t you try’n be charming! I’m mad at you!”

Sho’ko watched the two of them curiously. “Sho’ko, marveled by the complexity of life, hopes that you find forgiveness for the bearer of the goddess’ actions. He is as he was forged by time and-”

“You’re the last thing I want to hear from!” Rozzi shouted. “You couldn’t’ve been just a wee bit more gabby about the crab that almost killed us?!”

“Sho’ko, baffled by the ever changing world, cannot explain its violent behavior. Mayhap the strangeness of this vessel alarmed the creature. It produces a terrific noise and was soaring so closely to its eyes. One did not expect it to rise at all, much less attack.”

Wistea sighed as she rubbed the dull ache from her arms as best she could. “It seems to be a sign of the times. We keep barely salvaging or losing Aspects to Kota, this may simply be another side effect.”

Sho’ko settled into his seat again watching the mountainous terrain of the island pass below. “A world loosened from its fittings shall shake like a broken wheel.”

“Huh,” Rozzi replied. “I actually got that one.”

The skiff landed on a flat stretch of stone with a little doing as the ground began to slide downward when they came in. The crab below, wounded by its bygone catch of the day, set to brood the loss within its island sized shell. When everything settled the five occupants stepped out.

“Mmm, always did like a cool sea breeze across my gills after a long time indoors.” Polly said as she stretched. “So, you’re from ‘round here huh, Sho’ko?” She looked back and forth as the seemingly barren terrain of stone. There were hardly any patches of soft ground to give even the hardiest of shrubs a chance to grow. “Really doesn’t look like much.”

“We, Guardians since the first true dawn, were set upon this great stone as its caretakers. A sanctuary whereupon God or Goddess observed those they’d sired closely. When at last they chose to retreat, we were told to maintain this place until the final days of their creation.”

“Maintain?” Wistea looked up toward the mountains. “You mean that, in all this time, you have just kept it the same.”

“Sho’ko, ever observant, has learned that those of the world beyond this isle exist in time that’s fleeting. You are all, in essence, hunters of an illusive prey and craft the world around you to help you pursue it. As we guardians are ageless, such a pursuit is unnecessary.”

“Prey?” Wally questioned. “Sounds to me you mean like you think our lives are a constant hunt.”

“Do you not go into the world and seek that which best suits you? A home, a family, a place of being, and a place to pass away alongside those you’ve met on the way to your end.”

Rozzi quietly considered what the massive crystalline fellow had said, and found a funny little thought came into the clearing of her consciousness. She hummed softly to remember the tune properly and began to quietly recite the words to herself. “Is it the wind, or is it the land, that makes the place you choose to stand. Nae Nae I say it’s hand in hand with all the folk y’love.” As she faced everyone, the surprised little smile on Wally’s face instantly erased whatever aggravation he’d made her feel. “S’what I’m named for, y’know. My father caught my mother’s notice with that silly little ditty and when I was born, they named me to fit the tune of it.”

“Rozzi, I must admit my surprise.” Wistea moved herself directly into the couple’s burgeoning moment, entirely oblivious to the atmosphere there. “I thought you didn’t like poetry.”

She frowned and folded her hands behind her head. “I said; I didn’t want any from the walkin’ boulder.”

“Well,” She smiled at them both. “At any rate, I am terribly glad you and Wally are in such fine spirits. Now you can help me tutor him on the finer points of negotiation while we make our way to the Point of Origin and ready for our sit-down with the Gods.” She shook with excitement. “I cannot believe we are actually going to converse with deities!”

“Only the bearer of the goddess will be allowed to approach the summit.” Sho’ko flatly stated. “I am to guide him to the base of the mountain where he shall begin his climb.”

A single leaf fell from the mass that framed Wistea’s face, Rozzi swore she heard her wood creak as her body slowly drooped. “Oh… Well… I suppose then I’ll have to compress my lessons for the walk over to the base of-”

Sho’ko began to walk away from the group. “You shall remain here until I return. Please follow me, bearer of the goddess.”

Wistea could only watch in empty silence as her hope to behold a deific sanctuary, even at a distance, simply walked away.

“Sorry Wistea,” Wally managed to say as he fixed his backpack and set off after Sho’ko.

Polly walked over and gently patted her arboreal friend on her forlorn forearm. “S’alright Wisty, maybe we’ll find some other temple later?”

She made a small whining noise that may have started as words in her mind.

---

If there had ever been even the vaguest definition of a road or path where Wally now walked, time had certainly done its due diligence to erase it. A slip here, a painful rock between the toes there, and he grew to understand why wallabies preferred to live on the flattest ground possible. Of course, he wouldn’t mind the rocky terrain half as much if there were anything else to focus on. To his left, a grey snowcapped mountain range. To his right, it’s possibly coquettish and demure identical twin. Ahead of him, aside from the back end of a rock giant, was the towering black peak where, no doubt, the sanctuary of the gods themselves rested. Wally certainly didn’t want to spend any time thinking about the monumental task of convincing timeless cosmic beings that any of his requests mattered in the greater machinations of the universe, so instead he did what every skilled yet humble purveyor of goods would; make small talk.

“So, Sho’ko… How’d you get your name?”

“The Great Builder arrived here, before I was what I am now. He grew tired of differentiating us by the type of stone that comprised our forms, and sought to give us all names.”

“Wait, so, are all Guardians made from different minerals and stones?”

“Correct.”

“Huh! Well that’s fascinating… But raises the question of where the other Guardians even are. Shouldn’t they be coming out to meet us?”

“We live within the mountains that stand sentry over the Point of Origin. We awake when the first light of day falls, whereupon we descend to the valley and make our way to the sanctuary above, assure it is intact, then return to our post until the next day.”

Wally looked up at him curiously. “Hang on, every morning you all climb down one mountain, then climb up another, make sure the place is tidy, and then soldier on back to your resting places?”

“Yes.” Sho’ko replied casually.

“The service industry would be perfect for you lot,” Wally muttered under his breath. When the subtle glow of his new compatriot’s eyes fell upon him, Wally recoiled slightly. “Ah, never mind that, just a little sarcasm so I don’t have to think too hard about climbing a whole mountain. Although, I suppose since you and the other guardians do it every day, there’s a decent trail.”

“Sho’ko, ever apologetic for his misgivings, reminds the bearer of the goddess that our intent is preservation. The mountain is as it always has been regardless of our constant trek to its summit.”

“One day I’ll learn not to get my hopes up.” Wally said with a slight grumble, slowing down as Sho’ko did as well.

“On the contrary, your hope must be the strongest it has ever been.” The shimmering Guardian held up his mighty arm and pointed toward a stony outcrop ahead. “I can take you no further; there is where you shall begin your ascent.”

While the stalwart wallaby studied what lay ahead of him, the corner of his eye caught sight of Sho’ko reaching a hand up to his chest. His fingers delved into his body as if he’d been made from liquid this entire time, and the brilliant core of light beyond changed as he slowly pulled a small eight sided crystal from his own diamond-like form.

“W-what is that?” Wally asked with an air of concern.

“This is the Key Stone.” He held it out to Wally, who watched the kaleidoscopic innards of the crystal dance and change color in strange yet clear patterns. “As all things begin with a single action, so too did this world. The firmament upon which we all stand was born from one point, and this gem. You must place it in its altar above to signal your presence to the gods on high.”

Wally reached out for the Key Stone and nearly toppled forward when it came to rest in his hands. The weight of the palm filling jewel betrayed its size entirely. Quickly adjusting himself to the extra heft, Wally placed it in his pack and looked toward the black peak ahead. “If I’m honest… I’m not sure I can do this. I’ve never climbed a mountain before.”

“Sho’ko, humble in his deeds, knows that fear. When the world was young, I was but soft and fragile stone, so unlike those around me. In my frailness I found the need to learn more than the others and seek my place among them with more fervor. Over time, with due diligence and patience, my body hardened and I became the strongest of my kind. This is why I was chosen to seek you out, I could best understand life beyond this place and relate to you my own search for strength. Perhaps that is why the gods made me so.”

The little wallaby considered the words of his new friend carefully, smiled bravely, nodded gratefully, and headed toward the mountain. In a few steps, Wally looked over his shoulder at him. “I’m not going to turn into a diamond version of myself or anything like that after I’m done, right?”

“I can make you no promise.”

Wally sighed, “Of course not.”

---

Polly sat on the front end of the skiff, idly kicking her feet and swaying her tail in time with some half remembered sea shanty when her sharp eyes caught sight of a glinting figure in the distance. She took up her spyglass and, with a little added enchantment, caught a clearer sight of the approaching unknown. “Hey girls! I think that’s Sho’ko!” She studied the crystalline being carefully. “But… I think somethin’ happened. He ain’t wearin’ any pants now.”

Before Rozzi could make some witty remark, Wistea shot up. “Polly you stop staring right this instant!”

Unable to keep from snickering, Rozzi hopped down off the boulder she’d chosen as ‘most comfortable’ and peered out over the distance at the shining figure, seeing something that she thought might be a trick of the light. “Hang on a tick… Wisty come here.”

The polite Planaetian turned away and crossed her arms. “I’m not going to engage in any of your lurid-”

“It’s not like that you silly bush! I just need you to check to see if…” Rozzi’s voice trailed off as she saw another glittering body erupt from the ground in the distance. “Never mind, there’s definitely more than one of those big shiny fellas.”

As Wistea finally turned to see what the others spoke of, a few more came forth. Some were sapphire blue, crimson ruby, and a myriad of other precious stones, all bearing the same shape as Sho’ko.

“Don’t suppose they’re here to welcome us,” Rozzi remarked as she carefully handled the hilt of her sickle.

Polly hopped off the skiff and squinted down at the approaching mob, amid their number she saw some strange crimson thread that moved at jagged angles in the air. They seemed to run from the backs of each of their heads to the holes they’d popped from. Before she could ask the others about it, the ground began to shake and a structure arose from behind the horde of stone. It was a narrow yet ornate tower that shone like a golden goblet, clearly more for show than defense as atop it, on a throne of jade, sat the Thorned Princess.

The flowery fiend slowly stood, watching the three of them from her ostentatious vantage point where Polly could not only see her confident smirk, but the clearly ethereal strands that ran from her hand down to the Guardians below. Somehow, stones and boulders around them began to resound with the Princess’ mocking voice.

“Well, well. I must say I am happy the two of you could make it. But, I’m afraid you’ve already missed the coronation ceremony and there’s simply no more room for you or your little guest at the celebration. I’ll simply have to have you ejected by my loyal guards.” With a simple, barely seen gesture from their enslaver the Guardians rushed toward them. The sound was something akin to glass and ceramic thrown together into half a dozen barrels and rolled down a rocky hillside followed by an anticlimactic collision with a thick bush at the bottom. Mystical remnants smoked from the Planaetian’s palms as she stared up defiantly at Kota’s General.

Below them all was a thick bramble patch that had halted the charge of the Guardians entirely. They struggled and tore at the thorny branches that grew back faster than they could be broken.

Wistea shouted at the top of her lungs, “IF YOU THINK YOU CAN FIGHT US WITHOUT GETTING YOUR HANDS DIRTY, THINK AGAIN!”

At first the Thorned Princess did nothing, prompting a comment from Rozzi. “No clue if she actually heard y’say that.”

A stairwell exploded out from the ground before the trio, snaking its way through the air up to the Princess’ golden tower. The second it connected, she began to walk down. Her obsidian plated battle dress gave her an odd sort of sheen as she approached. Pitch black blades emerged from her vambraces and her pace quickened into a sprint. As Rozzi sent a torrential burst of shredding air up to catch her, the steps exploded and launched her over their heads. With unnatural grace she turned in the air and landed ready to strike.

The dark blade clashed with Rozzi’s waiting sickle, wind blasting off the collision. The Thorned Princess’ crimson eyes stared down at the red panda with a sneering superiority that only made Rozzi push harder. While the force of her magic caught some of the raw power behind the Princess’ arms, it wasn’t enough to win the test of strength. Rozzi was silently grateful when a bamboo spear shot out between them and nearly took the top of her opponents head with it.

The Thorned Princess jumped back and, with an air of total confidence, spoke. “My but this is interesting, the Flarebearer’s vassals and no sign of that adorable little ball of pillow stuffing or the dashing daddy’s boy? Oh, that’s right… He followed in his father’s footsteps and died pointlessly, yes? A shame, I was looking forward to making a throw rug out of him.”

Rozzi and Wistea said nothing, merely staring her down.

“Ooh, such stern faces of barely constrained contempt and anger.” Mock scandal contorted her strange face. “I bet you’re both loaded with the most violent fantasies about me.”

“Actually,” Rozzi began with a happy tone. “I was thinking ‘I bet she’s so dumb she can’t even count to three.’”

The Princess recoiled slightly in confusion. “What?”

A white hot dagger, bright as the sun, almost exploded through her chest as she barely realized she’d lost track of Polly entirely. The Light Mage’s invisibility slowly faded as she poured her magic into her blade and carved a blazing swath up the Thorned Princess’ torso. The strange nature of the body it cleaved through forced it to curve up and out through her left shoulder. The almost demonic screech of pain was near deafening as her right arm lashed out and knocked Polly away.

Wistea and Rozzi rushed forward to pile on more damage as the Princess struggled to keep her body from coming completely apart. With a bestial howl and the ground around her violently transforming into uncontrolled shapes, a barrier rose around her that the advancing warriors crashed into.

“Damn!” shouted Rozzi, rubbing her now bruised nose. “It’s just like back in the Silent Marsh! Wisty, can you crush it like you did last time?”

She shook her head sorely. “The bramble manifestation I used to keep the Guardians at bay would stop if I cast Emerald Coffin.”

“Ooh!” Polly said as she rushed over. “I can help with that then! See there’re these little red threads from that nasty excuse for a rose. I think I can cut’em…”

They watched Polly grab for what seemed to be nothing for a minute. They both were breathing in to say something when a glistening crimson thread appeared for a single second in Polly’s hand. It shone once more as her light enchanted dagger cut it, before fading into ethereal dust.

Wistea sounded almost awestruck as she spoke. “That… That must be what she used to control General Mycete…”

“Well then,” Rozzi almost cheered. “You best get to work Polly! Sooner we get those rock folk freed, sooner we can crack this ugly egg!”

As the Icthyite set to work, looking more like a young girl catching snowflakes than anything else, Wistea turned and stared at the opaque dome before them. “It does not make any sense.”

“Polly’s always been a bit odd. Mind you, she was raised by ol’ Blackeye, no tellin’ how that-”

“This isn’t light magic. We have seen barriers made by light magic, this is nothing like them.”

Rozzi’s ears perked up and she carefully eyed the subject of her friend’s rising distress.

“Also, we both know that the Thorned Princess is some manner of Earth Mage. All of her attacks, the stone blades… Nothing about her methods said she could make barriers like this, or somehow dominate the will of others.”

“Well Kota’s lackeys ain’t exactly what you’d call normal everyday people. Or even just people, period. Two of’em are walkin’ talkin’ suits of armor for starters. Other one’s made from gross rags.”

“Because Kota made them…” She turned to Rozzi, alarm resounding in both expression and voice. “She could give them any magic she wanted!”

The dome exploded. Shards of the magical barricade knocked the three off their feet entirely. In the center of the instant maelstrom, amid clearing mystic smoke, the Thorned Princess had just finished mending the wound in her body. She stared down at her opponents and spoke with all the conviction of a bloodied knife. “If it’s of any consolation to you at this moment, I must admit that truly, truly, hurt.”

<[Chapter 35]–[Index]–[Chapter 37]>

#A Baker's Quest #Writing

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Text

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE – PATRON OF THE GALE

The God's Providence shuddered like a cart on a stone laden road, its interior growing colder with every mile northward. Gan had heard stories from the old flyers about the perils at the top of the world, of great shards of razor sharp ice jutting from every cloud and the horrible whispers of lost souls carried on every breeze. While he wasn't too eager to hear whatever misbegotten ancestors he might have haunting the Plain of Frozen Echoes, the thought of flying ice was intriguing enough to bring him up to the bridge, currently crewed only by the captain.

"Damn chop's even worse up here than on the water!" Blackeye grumbled, fighting the ship's wheel for control. He unfastened a brass box from the side of the wheel's pedestal and pressed a small toggle on the side. As he spoke into it, his voice resounded throughout the ship. "I'm takin' the ship lower, so you lot best hang onto somethin'!"

As Gan watched the ship lower its nose he gasped at the sight below. Great and strange formations of ice, like gnarled and jagged fingers, formed an otherworldly frigid expanse in all directions, with narrow canals of water that slipped like eels through the deadly glacial daggers. Gan shook off his amazement and turned his attention to the clouds that came into view when the ship leveled off. As he scanned the sky for anything possibly astonishing he caught sight of something that was as familiar as it was terrifying.

"CAPTAIN! PITCH TO THE RIGHT, NOW!"

Without pause, the old shark opened the throttle to the props on the port side and threw the ship into a hard turn. Just in the periphery of the bridge’s bay window their eyes beheld the baffling sight of enormous tower of icy blades fused together by the chaos of nature and thrown to the ground by a downburst of air.

“Good eyes lad!” called out the captain, straightening the ship once more. “Could’ve used ya the last time I was here. Those damn hail blades nearly cut off bits of me every other minute.”

Argus grumbled as he came to the bridge. “Any more daredevilry from you, Captain? Or should I tell my stomach it’s alright to leave the safety of my lungs?”

“You’re lucky we’re still airborne in all this mess, I’d’ve set her down if there was any place to in this forsaken deep freeze.”

“Yes, I’m well aware of the Plain’s… Peculiarities. Which is why we can have no doubt we’ll find the Aspect of Air here. All the godly artifacts have had some strangeness to their surroundings.”

“Ghost do sound pretty strange to me,” Gan said quietly.

His elder teammates shared a look followed by a short laugh.

“That’s an old myth my boy,” said Argus. “The bygone spooks everyone hears are simply the voices of people who were once alive in the world. For reasons not yet understood, everything ever said continues on past the speaker and finds its way up here, bounding back and forth on all those horrifying and deadly glacial formations.”

“He means the ice makes noise go funny.” Blackeye huffed.

Argus rolled his eyes. “The point,” he said with all the emphasis of a nail being driven into wood. “There’s no malicious will out there intent on driving you mad with a bunch of whispers.”

“I’m not so sure,” Hyla suddenly interjected.

Argus and Gan flinched as if someone had threatened to slap them for not paying attention.

She shyly tugged at her sleeve. “Sorry, moving around quietly’s kind of a specialty…”

“Go on then Miss Areo,” Blackeye said with a barely masked chuckle.

“I sense something primal and furious nearby. It’s struggling against a threat to its safety. I came up here to see if I could spot it…”

“Did you sense anything like that around the other Aspects you’d seen?” Argus questioned.

She shook her head slowly. “It’s so beyond any living thing I’ve sensed that I simply assumed it was what we were seeking.”

“Fair assumption,” Blackeye tightened his grip on the wheel. “Point the way Miss Areo; I’ll carve out our course toward it.”

Gan, however unintentionally, watched as she walked past him. His subtle air of caution was easily picked up by the observant Argus who patted the young Orni’Hulan on the shoulder and pulled him down one of the hallways leading off the bridge. “I’ll have none of that now,” he whispered to him. “If you want to stay on this ship, you leave your prejudice elsewhere. I get enough of that nonsense back in Insicai.”

The kestrel’s feathers flared at his quiet declaration before he slumped slightly against the wall. “I… I’m sorry.”

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to. In fact you shouldn’t be apologizing at all.”

Gan looked up at Argus in confusion.

“For one, you simply don’t know any better. No fault there but the timing of your birth. You grew into a world that was already in a ridiculous hate affair with a sixth of the planet’s population, for the actions of a proportional few. For another, saying ‘I’m sorry,’ hardly covers it. You want to make it up to her? You want to prove your better than mindless hate and baseless fears?”

He nodded up at Argus fervently.

“Then you do it with action. You force yourself to be the better bird and prove everything you’ve thought up until now wrong! Can you do that?”

“Y-yes! Yes I can!”

“Good!” Argus sighed with a small smile, “especially since I think trying to throw someone who can fly off an airship sounds like an impossibly tedious task.”

---

The forming shards of ice in the sky scraped against the hull of the God’s Providence as Blackeye growled and grumbled to keep the ship from harm. Gan’s storm trained eyes worked overtime to spot the larger, building sized hail blades. Hyla’s outstretched hand was Blackeye’s only compass as they pushed on toward what they hoped could lead them to the Aspect of Air.

“Wait... What… What is that?” Gan said quietly to himself. He stepped closer to the bridge’s bay window and carefully scanned a portion of the sky.

“Speak up boy!” Blackeye called out. “What do you see?”

The clouds shifted, the sun shone down on the distant object, and Gan gasped. “It’s… IT’S THAT THING! THAT THING SIR WALLY BLEW UP!”

“Impossible!” Argus responded as he raced over to Gan’s side to see what he’d spotted. “It’s in pieces on the ocean floor!”

“Look! There!” Gan desperately tapped his taloned finger on the glass.

Argus squinted carefully, the clouds shifting even more to reveal in the distance the hulking silhouette of another airship. As there were only two known to exist, of course Gan would assume it was the one he’d already seen. But the wizened grasshopper saw more than he did. The frame was different; the propeller dimensions were far too dense. “That,” he said quite plainly. “Is not the Aegis.”

As the distance between the vessels closed, the view of the enemy craft became clear. For its weaponry and armor the Aegis would’ve been called a luxury vehicle compares to the squat sibling on display now. This much weightier war machine bore black armor on which the emblazoned emblem of Kota’s forces more clearly shone. The sickly red eye framed in a yellow diamond stared inanimate daggers at them as they approached. It was smaller than the Aegis, no doubt a trade off for denser defenses. The struts to the propeller assembly barely long enough to give them range of motion meant it was also likely slower. However, despite its terrapin like features, it clearly bore a much more deadly armament, as a sudden streak of white entered their range of vision the sky around the dread ship exploded in a hail of cannon fire. Explosive shells creating a terrifying shock of noise and force that blended together into a constant roar of directed violence at the mysterious intruder.

“That’s it!” Hyla called out. “The thing I’ve been sensing!”

The thing in question moved like fabric with a purpose through the air, a wake of explosions in its course as its target counterattacked with a seemingly endless stream of ammunition.

“I’ll be Sunday’s breakfast,” Captain Blackeye quietly exclaimed. “That’s a dragon…”

The serpentine aggressor banged hard against the hull of the warship, bounding off it like a rock thrown at a much larger rock with guns. Neither side of the conflict came away clean as the ship wobbled and had a new quite sizable hole in it, as did the dragon.

“It’s hurt!” Hyla almost sobbed as she held her chest, empathically feeling its pain. “We have to help it!”

“Loved to, dearie,” Blackeye grumbled. “But this here’s a big cruiser. We got a few cannons on port and starboard, and they ain’t about t’ make anything on that ship more than mildly annoyed.”

“Actually captain,” Argus interrupted. “If you can get us close enough and keep a straight line of sight with her, we have something that’ll make this a more than even fight.”

The captain rubbed his chin thoughtfully and raised an eyebrow. “We talkin’ ‘bout that thing Old Poda was yellin’ at you over?”

“We came to an agreement on it eventually, yes.”

The captain made a pensive noise in his throat. “Sure it’ll work?”

“No.”

“No?!” Gan and Hyla exclaimed.

“I could write out the hypothetical principles for a device until one of the moons dropped out of the sky. That doesn’t mean anything if you can’t actually test it, which, I might add, would be impossibly dangerous outside of a combat scenario.”

“Well were damn sure in one those now,” The captain added. “Do what you need to Argus, I’ll line the shot up for ya. Mister Noi’Goa you’re still on spotter duties! Hyla, there any way you can send that dragon our intentions?”

She shook her head. “I… I can try… But it’s in a lot of pain, I don’t know if it’ll listen.”

“We’re all just doin’ our best, dear. You’re no different, and hang the fella thinks otherwise.”

Gan wasn’t sure if Blackeye had directed that comment directly at the back of his head, but it certainly felt like he had. He quickly shook the feeling off. Now wasn’t the time for guilt, blame, or shame. He ignored those distractions and focused his quick and ready eyes on the danger ahead.

“We’ll be coming into their detection range soon; no doubt they have the same Farsight device we do, but the range isn’t something they can change regardless of size.” Argus spoke as he went to the far wall of the bridge and pulled on a handle revealing an elaborate looking seat folded into the wall. When he latched it down, a series of hisses and metallic linkages resounded in the flooring. From the ceiling descended a brass cylinder with two handles on either side at the bottom. The squared off portion rotated toward where Argus now sat as his busy hands worked the series of hand wheels on the chair.

“So how’s the thing work?” Blackeye asked as he pitched the ship up to an intercept course.

“Corona Vivavile;” Argus replied from behind the machinery. “‘The Sun Flower,’ the rarest flower in my garden and the hardest to grow. Thankfully the one I had was still healthy and able to be transported. I replaced the onboard Brightstone Furnace with it.”

“Hang on!” Blackeye called out. “A flower’s what’s keepin’ us airborne?!”

“No, the principles of lift and great big metal blades are keeping us airborne. The flower just keeps them moving. Now, all the heat being produced by the Sun Flower is channeled into boilers creating the stream pressure that runs the engines and generator turbines.”

“The what?” Gan asked.

“That’s a question for later! The heat’s all used up, but the light the Sun Flower produces when active? That’s ours to use with this.”

Argus pulled a lever beside his seat and the airflow over the top of the ship changed quickly. As Blackeye quickly corrected it, he could see something come into view over the bridge bay window. To him it appeared to be a yard arm with something on the end of it descending into view. When he tried to study it more Gan shouted, “PITCH LEFT, CAPTAIN!”

The near miss of an explosion almost rocked those on the bridge right off their feet. They were now in the enemy ship’s range.

As the God’s Providence ducked and dive amid a hail of shots, Hyla cried out in pain. “It’s… It’s not listening… It’s too angry…”

The wake of air as the white dragon rose into the through sky ahead of them shook the Providence. When it turned away toward the larger vessel a brief spray of its blood splashed against part of the bridge’s window.

“Captain, do you see that metal circle ahead of you?” asked Argus

“Off the yardarm thing, what about it?”

“That’s our firing angle. You keep that pointed at what we’re hoping to hit, I’ll handle the rest with the pillar-scope here!”

Gan spotted another incoming round and called out its position, forcing Blackeye to jerk the ship out of the way once more. “Right… Easy as threadin’ a needle in a hurricane.”

Argus looked away from the pillar-scope. “Why do I get the feeling you’ve actually done that before?”

“Because we’re friends, and I take stupid dares all the time!” The ship suddenly pitched forward putting on more speed. “Like lettin’ a ship’s gunners think they know how fast I can move so they let their aim get lazy.” Gan watched in amazement as shot after shot broke wide of their current position. “And rushin’ straight at’em to yank their calm away!” The sound of exploding shells fell out of rhythm and increased in speed.

Argus peered into the pillar-scope, its series of mirrors providing a view of the proper workings of his invention. Each turn of the hand wheels below him served to expertly align a series of successive lenses between the Sun Flower’s light and the target ahead. With a twist of the handle on the side of the pillar scope, an aperture above the Sun Flower opened and its light poured forth. It raced from lens to lens growing stronger and stronger until the resulting beam of pure white light burst forth from above the Providence.

The heat of the beam tore the air around it to shreds as it instantly closed the distance to its target, producing an otherworldly hum. Where it struck, the armored frame of the enemy’s starboard rear prop exploded into a blossom of heat and noise and the mighty blades at the top turned to useless shrapnel, flung off in random directions.

The God’s Providence then swerved up at the last possible moment, skipping across the top of the wounded antagonist as it suddenly dropped to one side from the loss in the power holding it aloft.

Boisterous laughter shook the bridge harder than any explosion as Blackeye couldn’t help but celebrate. “DAMN FINE SHOOTING, MISTER CAEL!”

“That, my fine friends, was the Prominence Cannon. A series of lenses channeling a beam of magical-“

Some have said; that the roar of a dragon is as close as one shall come to hearing a single note from the choir of the spheres. Apparently, the motion of objects in the heavens sounded an awful lot like the angriest soul shaking racket this side of an exploding volcano. It was a noise that asserted itself as the loudest thing you’ve ever heard by a huge margin. It could only be made worse by a single factor, the view the bridge suddenly had of the inside of a dragon’s mouth.

“Y’ GREAT STUPID BEASTIE! STOP EATIN’ MY SHIP!” Blackeye shouted, ready to hurl his harpoon right through the glass and straight down the dragon’s throat. Something he would’ve done, if not for the fact Hyla had thrown herself between him and it.

Without a word she turned and pressed her hands against the glass. She shook as a microcosm of colors spread out from her palms over the window and then the whole of the ship in a singular pulse. The growing groan of metal being crushed suddenly ceased, and was followed another pulse from her.

The dragon’s massive jaws shook them free and left them hovering as it moved its colossal eye into view. It seemed to regard the tiny Sauroian girl standing behind the glass the way one would any curiosity before turning its attention toward the listing ship that had resumed firing.

Once more did a mighty roar rock the world around them, the snake-like titan rolled into a coil and sprang forward through the air, it’s powerful jaws tearing a chunk out of the nearest engine, producing a plume of fire and smoke that caused the blades above to waver in their duty before finally failing.

Satisfied that the war machine was sufficiency felled, the dragon turned back toward the God’s Providence.

“It… Wants us to follow it.” Hyla spoke softly, a clear exhaustion in her voice. “Sorry it took so long… We just had to get closer I guess.” She laughed and her legs gave out beneath her. In a flash, Gan was there to catch her.

“If she’s that tired, must’ve taken all she had to cut through the rage of that thing.” Blackeye surmised.

“Yes, quite… And aren’t we glad you didn’t stab it in the mouth.” Argus added while fishing something out of one of his pockets. “Gan, catch.”

The tossed vial easily came to his hand and he looked it over carefully.

“Runner’s Grass Solution. We’ve all come to swear by it, even if it taste like someone dripped hot paint into your mouth.”

“Taste fine to me n’ Polly.” Blackeye chortled.

“Salt water taste fine to you and Polly, that’s not a useful metric. Anyway, make sure she gets a bit of that when she wakes up. I have to go check on the Sun Flower and the Captain has to follow our… Escort is the word I suppose.”

“Long as it don’t try to eat us again.” The old shark replied as he turned the wheel in his hands.

Gan easily lifted the passed out Sauroian and carried her to the nearest open room to lay her down. As he did he sat down by the door and regarded her quietly. He couldn’t explain it, it made no sense. He’d never actually met a Sauroian before, barely saw any at He’Lain Outpost, and at no point was he threatened, chased, or wronged by one. Could all the immediate distrust he felt inside himself really come from nothing more than stories and rumors? With a frustrated grunt he knocked the back of his head into the wall and tried very hard to feel less stupid.

---

Hyla was still working the taste of the stamina rejuvenating medicine from her mouth as the four of them dressed for the cold outside before heading down the ship’s ramp. Ahead of them was a large ice cave, which only moments earlier had been masked by a clearly supernatural mist. They’d watched the dragon slide in through another opening and managed to find an overhang to land under to keep the deadly hail blades from tearing the ship asunder when they were inside.

As they walked in, careful of their footing amidst the snow and ice, Hyla noticed Gan making an abysmal effort not to look her way. She wouldn’t have paid it any mind if not for the fact this somehow felt different than before, or rather, he had an expression she couldn’t place. However, there were more important things to focus on. For one, the constant echo of voices that gave the top of the world its name ceased the second they entered the cave.

Ahead of them, in a wider flat space, the Dragon had curled in on itself and begun to lick at the wounds its most recent opponent had scored. It was clear to them all it’d seen its fair share of fighting.

“You’ll have to forgive Jinra, fighting always gets her overly excited. She’s very sorry for biting your ship. But then it isn’t every day we get visitors, especially once that can fly.”

The cave was shaped as such that it made this new voice come at the listener from every direction. You could be forgiven for thinking the cave itself was speaking; if not for the fact the voice sounded nothing like a cavernous hole made of ice. It was warm, motherly, and not the least bit imposing. Then, through a fog that hadn’t been there before, someone stepped out. She was an Animani, more specifically a snow fox, a rarity in this day and age. Garbed in ornate glacial blue robes and a timber staff in hand, she walked toward them casually. “Now, what brings you interesting people my way?”

“Beggin’ your pardon ma’am,” Blackeye began. “Would you be mindin’ terribly if I were to confer with my crew first?”

She shook her head. “Go right ahead.”

“Alright, huddle up.” He gathered his arms around the others as they circled around one another and began to whisper. “What’s everyone thinkin’?”

“Wally’s more accurate than I am,” Hyla started. “But I can’t feel anything malicious in her.”

“Yes,” Argus joined in. “But be fair, you simply take in what she’s feeling, not her intentions. She could be perfectly calm about cutting our throats.”

“But she’s got a stick,” Gan proffered. “You can’t do that with a stick… Can you?”

They all looked to the elder adventurer of the group, and Blackeye cleared his throat. “Only seen it the once, total fluke really.”

“I say we tell her the truth,” said Hyla.

Argus nodded. “Agreed, we need her to help get that dragon to safety?”

“Hang on,” Blackeye replied. “We’re settlin’ on the dragon bein’ what we’re here for?”

“Captain, honestly.” Argus crossed his secondary arms. “If you were to make something to command the flow of the winds for the whole world, wouldn’t a dragon make the most sense?”

“The old stories did say the god’s used ‘em to shape the whole of Mondia, that they’re the reason hills slope, rivers curve, and mountains peak. But that all seems a bit more earthy to me.”

“Exactly!” Argus declared. “A classic misdirection!”

“Excuse me,” the snow fox interjected at speaking volume. “I think it’s only fair I should tell you I can hear everything you’re whispering.”

The four of them stared at one another before Blackeye awkwardly cleared his throat and turned back toward the snow fox. “Well then, I don’t suppose there’s any point in us conferrin’ any longer… We’re here to safeguard-“

“You’re wrong by the way,” she interrupted once more. “It’s not Jinra.”

They all looked to one another then back to her.

“You seek the God of Wind’s material anchor. The Aspect of Air itself… Jinra and I are merely its guardians. And if either of us felt you were a threat, you most certainly wouldn’t be standing where you are right now. Actually, to be more accurate, you’d probably be bleeding and or in pieces if you were where you are right now and a threat.”

“Understood, ma’am.” Blackeye replied politely.

“You mean to protect it from whoever it was in that other flying ship she told me about. Why?”

Argus stepped forward. “Madam, the dread witch Kota seeks to harness its power along with the other Aspects to remake the world by force.”

“Well, we can’t have that then,” The snow fox smiled. “My name is Illica by the way. You may continue to call me ‘madam’ if you so wish… I find respectful gentlemen quite appealing.”

Blackeye bowed his head gracefully, while Argus straightened his posture with a polite nod.

Gan stepped forward between the two of them and spoke, “So if it isn’t the dragon then, what is it?”

Illica turned to Jinra who slowly uncoiled and moved to another part of the cave revealing another chamber behind her. Much to everyone’s surprise what lay there was a grassy clearing, complete with various trees and flowers. At the center of the clearing was a unique blossom all on its own atop a small incline. It moved every so subtly in the breeze beneath the sunny opening in the cave above.

“That flower is what you seek.” Illica began. “Here, where the sun shines all year, all the winds of the world are born. A simple breeze dances across the petals of this flower, journeys out into the world through the openings in this cave, and becomes every gust, every gale, and every whirlwind before returning here to begin again. That is why the Plain of Frozen Echoes bears that name; the voices are all carried here and resound amidst the ice, forever turning in the circle of winds, like the leaves of autumn.”

“Incredible,” said an awestruck Argus. “I don’t suppose it produces any seeds, does it?”

Blackeye chortled. “Ain’t you got enough magic plants?”

“Never,” he said with a smile.

The cave suddenly shook and Jinra could be heard growling.

“What was that?” Illica asked.

“I’ll go find out!” Gan called out; already at the mouth of the cave by the time he was heard. The brave kestrel shot into the air, careful of another deadly hail blade’s formation as he quickly scouted the area around the cave. His eyes soon found the fallen Kota warship which had not only survived the crash relatively intact; it was very clearly moving across the glacial terrain. The shards of ice and the slippery snow in its course seemed no hindrance to the now rolling fortress. In a flash Gan raced back to the others. “IT’S THE SHIP!” He cried out. “IT’S STILL MOVING AND IT’S HEADED HERE!”

“Through all this ice and snow?!” Argus angrily asked. “The must have some manner of slated locomotion… Metal plates, linked together to form a stable surface that the wheels can turn on. Ah! But that’s a weakness! If we can damage the plates the ship will be unable to move. Once it’s immobile we make our way inside and destroy their furnace!”

“Can we use that cannon of yours to do it?” Hyla asked.

“No, the Prominence Cannon can only be fired once a day; it’s still just a prototype you know. Honestly, I thought the hull of that thing would crack like a dropped egg.”

Blackeye was about to speak when he heard something. It was a piercing whistle of a noise. At first he thought it might be wind moving out some gap in the cave. But this was too high a pitch for that. He looked around and the inner ocean of his mind suddenly geysered exactly where the grasshopper stood. “ARGUS!” the old shark slammed his tail against the icy floor and sprang forward tackling Argus out of the way just as a pillar of blue flames came crashing to the ground where he’d stood.

All eyes watched as something at the heart of the flames moved. With a flourish the azure inferno vanished and beyond it the four instantly recognized the telltale armor of a Halcyon Knight.

As Animani go, there are some that could easily be mistaken for others. Dogs come in many shapes and shades of fur, as do Cats. But as there is one side of that spectrum there must be another. So, as all eyes turned to the robust figure that stood before them, there was no mistaking their enemy was a tiger.

“Now,” the deep female voice of the knight came with a growl. “Which of you will be the first to die?”

<[Chapter 34]–[Index]–[Chapter 36]>

#A Baker's Quest #Writing

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abakersquest · 8 years ago

Text

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR – GOING FORWARD

The door to Stormstone Keep opened far too quickly. Neither of its two remaining occupants were ready to face the smiling faces of those outside.

Rozzi was the first to say anything as they walked out, “you boys sure had us worried there for a second. The whole island started… to…” her voice trailed off as she saw the door slide shut behind only two of her friends, where once there were three.

Sorrow weighed down hard on the wallaby’s face. He could barely raise his eyes toward the others. The words refused to take any physical form, as mostly likely some bit of him absolutely refused to admit Hector was gone. It’d happened so suddenly and came without a chance to save him. On top of it all, Wally could feel every last ounce of their growing grief and frustration, a mighty cascade of heartbreak that washed over him like a broken bit of stone on a beach, waiting to be dragged out into the sea.

As he somehow managed to tell them of Hector’s final moments, it all felt like an absolutely unworthy testimony to his courage and sacrifice. The words all seemed too small and weak, but they had to be said, the others had to know. Their friend did not die afraid, weak, or alone. He faced his end boldly and did not flinch. Giving everything he had so that all of them could continue on toward tomorrow.

Eventually Wally’s eyes could do nothing else but settle on the strange being standing apart from them all. It was a living sculpture that turned and nodded its head toward him in a solemn and apologetic manner. Wally could feel an emotional purity from it; its honest sympathy wholly distracting him from the creature’s odd nature and, for a moment, the grief in his heart.

“Sho’ko, new to the world beyond his origins, willingly admits there are things he cannot understand. He does not dare to intrude on your grief at the loss of a friend. But humbly offers whatever sympathy he can.”

With a subtle turn to everyone else, Wally asked, “Everyone else heard that, right?”

“Oh, y-yes.” Wistea sniffled, wiping a few tears from her eyes. “That is Sho’ko. Poda said he is one of the guardians of Krust Mountain. Apparently he was sent to find you and guide you there.”

Wally stared at the strange titan of diamond, the gleaming light in its chest and eyes certainly didn’t intone a drop of malicious intent. Whether the offer was sincere or the giant simply believed it to be was unclear. He sighed softly, looked back at his friends still stricken by the loss, shook his head, and did his best to dismiss what he felt from them and focus on his own emotions. With a look toward the sky above and the slowly growing glow of daybreak casting its light upon the retreating moons, he closed his eyes and remembered the night before he left Animana. There he was; sitting with his father, the night sky above rolling past without a single thought to them watching it go. He held the image tightly in his heart and let that light his way from the darkness, and hoped to shine that light on the others.

“Time won’t wait for us…” He said quietly to himself before standing a little straighter. His eyes slowly looked for the blue light that guided them here, still painted on the ever tumultuous storm wall. “Come on everyone, the sun’s rising, and we’ve got miles to go yet.”

They all looked to him, the first beams of sunlight peeking into the eye of the storm. There was sadness in his eyes and a few tears, but more so courage. The will to carry on almost beamed from him as he strode with head held high. Most would be stoic; most would bury what they felt for the good of the group. Wally wore his emotions proudly. They were alive, they were together, and the future of the world lay ahead of them all because Hector willed it so.

They carried their sorrow, but did so undefeated.

They would mourn the loss, but fight on regardless.

With the sunrise over the city, came a tide of concerned citizens and frantic guards. Barbatus, hovering above it all, barked orders over the din of noise easily, sending his officers to help with damaged buildings and aid any injured. The heroes slowly emerged from the storm to the tune of his booming voice. Quietly they all wondered why they didn’t hear him through it.

“BASKI, RATIMEZ, YOU’RE ON PERIMETER. NO ONE GETS IN OR OUT OF THE CITY WITHOUT MY SAY!” He managed to glance in time to see them and called out, somehow louder. “AH! CAP’N!” With a great flourish of his tremendous wingspan, the bearded vulture came down with a triumphant laugh. “BIT OF A SHAKE UP, BUT NOTHIN’ AS BAD AS THE ISLAND TWIRLIN’ OVER! GUESS YOU AND YOURS KEPT OUR TAILS OUT OF THE STEW POT.”

“Aye,” Blackeye answered plainly. “One of us more than any other.”

Barbatus looked over them all and saw they were truly one short. For the first time, his voice hit a much more reasonable volume, “He was… Hammond’s boy, wasn’t he?”

“Spittin’ image, both in looks and in courage. Seein’em both go before me makes me feel older than I ever have before.”

“I know the feeling,” Poda spoke up at last, hopping off the Captain’s shoulder and facing everyone. “I’ve watched so many young lives cut short before they made their marks. Rest assured this isn’t one of them. Orni’Hu keeps its place in the sky and the countless lives on it continue. A generation of Orni’Hulans now able to greet the future thanks to his sacrifice? That’s one damn fine mark. In fact it may be one among many if his friends are any indicator.” He smiled up at them all. “I’ll be taking my leave of you here; I’ve some moves I need to make as you all soldier on. I promise this isn’t the last you’ll see of this old bug.”

“Barbatus,” Blackeye’s voice, filled to the brim with authority brought the large bird’s attention to a standing salute. “You give Poda whatever he needs. I’ve no doubt he’s got the world in mind with every step.”

“AYE, CAP’N!”

The iconic storm at their backs calmed in the warmth of the sun, it rumbled and stirred, but the almost constant flashes of lightning had subsided. It was a fitting change, given what they all left behind. When they approached the God’s Providence, Wally stopped while the others continued on and turned to Gan. Kindly, he put his hands on the young boy’s shoulders and met his eyes. “Gan, we have to talk.”

Instant concern and desperation chained themselves to Gan’s heart, as all this time he’d been quietly blaming himself for what happened to Hector. He wasn’t strong enough, didn’t move fast enough, he could’ve done more to save the island and Sir Wally’s friend.

“It’s not your fault.”

Gan stared up at the knight, tears still rolling down his cheeks.

“Hector sent you my way to keep you safe, he knew what he had to do couldn’t have been possible with you there, you’d’ve tried to stop him. I know that because I would’ve.”

“But…”

“There was no stopping what happened, and there’s no sense dwelling on it longer than you have to. Which is something I keep telling myself, hoping that I’ll eventually believe it.” He smiled as warmly as he could. “If you want to make some amends, or feel you’ve failed, now’s the time to make up for it by living to the fullest.”

Gan let his hands drop to his sides and did his very best to stand as tall as he could, nodding bravely.

“I can’t stop you from coming with us, and I’m not stupid enough to try. But please, go home first. See your family, and then decide. We’ll pass over your flock before we leave Orni’Hu and open the cargo hatch for you if you choose to come with us.”

“Yes Sir.”

Wally let him go and gave him space to take off, watching as the flyer darted off into the sky, racing toward home like a cannon shot. With a quiet sigh he turned back to the ship and saw Blackeye handing out mugs to everyone. On approach, Rozzi handed over the one she took for him. Before he could ask, he saw the Captain head into the ship’s hold and reemerge with a large well worn barrel.

“This here?” the captain set the barrel down and tapped its lid, “Thall Whiskey, almost a hundred n’ ten years old. Bought two barrels of it back in Galaga so’s we could celebrate once we’re all said and done with this Kota business. I s’pose we can do with a barrel and a half when the time comes, ‘cause right now we need this’un”

He carefully poured the golden liquid into each of their mugs, set the barrel down and held his own mug high in the air. “TO SIR HECTOR CANI, A CHAMPION OF THE PEOPLE AND ONE OF THE BRAVEST SOULS I EVER MET!”

All save Sho’ko and Hyla raised their mugs and called out, “TO HECTOR!” before drinking.

While Hyla quickly caught onto the ceremonial gesture and followed suit, Sho’ko continued to stare down at the mug.

“Ain’t much of a drinker, eh’ stony?” The captain asked.

“Sho’ko, ever ready to learn of the world, apologizes that he cannot join you in this act. He shares your sentiments and celebration of life, but lacks the means.”

“Aye, pretty sure if you had a gut to rot, we’da seen it by now. Just hold the mug a bit longer and that’ll be fine.”

Rozzi unleashed a loud sigh of satisfaction as she finished off the whole mug in one go, where as Hyla coughed roughly after her first sip.

“I-Is it supposed to burn like that?” She asked hoarsely.

Wistea gently patted her on the back, speaking with an almost equal rasp “I had always heard that was part of the appeal.”

“Quite right, Scholar Faboi.” Argus pontificated. “Although the chief draw in barrel aged spirits is in the flavors they pick up from the wood over time. On their own they do what they can, but lack much in the way of flavor if not properly prepared.”

Now, one doesn’t work in a kitchen without learning their way around a few drinks. They came about either to celebrate a successful day, mourn a terrible one, or to improve the relationship between yourself and the head chef, with the obvious risk of destroying it at the same time. Wally had sipped, chugged, mixed, served, and gone home in a drunken haze more times than he’d care to mention. In his practiced opinion, the whiskey was an absolutely perfect pairing to a tearful goodbye.

The mugs emptied and their spirits, at least for now, buoyed. The heroes boarded the God’s Providence and set to deciding who would go to protect the Aspect of Air and who would join Wally on his quest to Krust Mountain.

“Well I’m going with you, there’s no doubtin’ that!” Rozzi said, crossing her arms to punctuate her order.

Wally didn’t dream of arguing with her.

Blackeye spoke to them as he walked. “That skiff only seats four and a helmsman. Since we’re headin’ to the distant north it’s best I stay with the Providence and Polly takes you lot to Krust Mountain. ‘Tween you, Rozzi, an’ cliff face, that’s three seats filled.”

“I will go!” Wistea said in a surprisingly declarative tone. “As I am Wally’s appointed legal counsel and a scholar of Planae dedicated to recording all the culture and history this world has to offer.”

“Legal… Wisty what are you… OH!” Rozzi stared up at her harshly. “I can’t believe it! You’re still thinkin’ of puttin’ Wally on trial for the library thing?! After everything we’ve been through together?!”

“I being his friend and him saving the world are no excuses for trespassing or property damage, Rozzi. This time fighting at his side has only made my serving as his advocate an even stronger tactic. I am certain when the time comes a fairly appointed and impartial judge will acquit him with only minimal community service. That’s fair, isn’t it, Wally?”

The wallaby sighed and shook his head, muttering under his breath, “This is going to be a very long trip…”

The God’s Providence took flight with little fanfare. Everyone on board simply set to a task to keep busy and stave off any lamenting the loss of Hector. Argus worked on what he called his ‘secret project’ refusing to disclose any details to Wistea. Polly carefully studied the controls of the waiting skiff in the ship’s departure deck. Sho’ko had settled into a meditative pose in the cargo hold alongside a surprised but not dismissive Hyla, who was in the midst of doing the same. Rozzi, currently settled into a corner on the bridge, had refused to let Wally out of her sight since his exit from Stormstone Keep. As it was, the Flarebearer quietly watched Orni’Hu roll on under the ship from a seat on the bridge.

He knew she was unhappy with his silence, but glad she was willing to let him rue in it for now at least. So it was that they soon came through a patch of clouds and He’lain Outpost was once again in view. He could just make out the shapes of wings flitting from building to building in the thankfully unfrozen settlement. Watching the massive crane lower a ship back down to the ocean at last was a welcome relief. It wasn’t often on this journey he could see signs of the good they’d managed to do, so he celebrated to himself quietly.

It wasn’t long until they came to the Distant Drifts, the broad and empty stretches of land settled by scattered flocks. He could just barely make out the ornate tents of Gan’s own, a distant smattering of colors in the clouds ahead.

“Captain,” Wally spoke without moving. “That spot over there, that’s Gan’s village. I promised we’d fly over when we were leaving.”

“Wind’s favorable; we’ll manage that just fine. You confident he’ll join up then?”

“Maybe,” he replied quietly. “He’s fearless, that one. Throws himself into danger if it means he can help… But seeing what happened to Hector put him at a crossroads. No intuition could tell me what path he’d choose.”

Blackeye smiled, not his typical toothy grin, but a much warmer expression. “Wasn’t much older than him when I set off to sea. My boat was barely bigger than a lil' rower and I only had the one barrel of drinkin’ water with a single crate of food. I buried my mum, and saw no reason t’ stay on that little island. More than a week later Captain Yeat “Gallows” Grayson saw me sail up to Galaga half starved, watched me tie off my boat, and had me very loudly turn him down when he offered me a meal. The rest of his crew told me later that the only time they’d seen him smile was when I mouthed of at him.”

“Then what happened?” Rozzi asked.

“He knocked me on my ass for bein’ a rude lil' scallop!” Blackeye laughed. “Next thing I know I’m wakin’ up in a makeshift bed in the hold of his ship, with orders to keep the whole thing tidy if I ever wanted to eat solid food again. Those old salts taught me everything I know… Saw the last of them go in the war, bastard of a trout by the name of… Charles. Heaven help me, I barely remembered his name. His ship was on fire, so he rammed it into a Sauroian gun boat hard as possible. Swear y’could still hear him cackling as the whole thing went up like fireworks.” He sighed, which the natural gravel in his voice made sound like a growl. “I promise you that meetin’ us was the best thing that coulda happened t’ that boy… I got little doubt he won’t be poundin’ on the back door so we’ll let him in.”

Wally managed a glance Blackeye’s way. He tried very hard to imagine this burly old shark as a ropey half starved boy, but just couldn’t. When he turned back the tents of Gan’s flock centered into the broad window of the bridge. His eyes could just barely make out dark colors moving about the tents before the shapes gathered en masse and rose into their air together. As the ship grew closer, Wally could see the flock of kestrels had flown up to meet them as they departed the island, escorting them out beyond its reaches in a graceful show of acrobatics lead by their patriarch. As they framed the course of the ship, the outer most flyers dropped down; followed by those next to them and so on until, just ahead of the ship, in plain view, were Gan, his sister, and their father. Kora was the first to break away, then Khan, leaving the youngest of their number in the air, leading the Providence away from his home. When he dipped down under the ship and began to slow, Wally jumped from his seat and made his way back to the cargo hold, quickly followed by Rozzi.

The pair sidestepped the meditating duo as they made their way to the rear. Rozzi sent a surge of her magic to the frame of the cargo bay hatch, creating a mystical seal of air before throwing the switch.

Wally centered himself behind the hatch while it lowered, and smiled as Gan came into view. Flitting about in the draft of the Providence, a backpack made for flying in tow. The wallaby pushed his hand out beyond Rozzi’s protective barrier and offered it to his young friend without pause.

Gan almost dove toward Wally’s hand, taking it firmly with the biggest smile his beak could produce as he was pulled inside.

Once his footing was solid, Gan stood his straightest and looked Wally right in the eye. “Squire Gan Noi’Goa, ready for your order Sir Wally!”

Wally did his best to ignore Rozzi’s indelicate snicker and focus on properly welcoming Gan. “That was quite the send of your flock gave you.”

“When I told my father what happened, he insisted. Kora wasn’t happy about me leaving, but he said it wasn’t her choice to make or his. I know it’s gonna scary and I could die… But I just couldn’t sit at home knowing you’re all out there doing your best!” Gan’s hands found the straps of his backpack and pulled at them firmly as if to anchor him in the moment. “I’m not doing this because I feel guilty or upset, but because I think about how I felt when Orni’Hu started to tilt and I don’t want anyone else to feel that way ever!”

“Alright feathers, hold it together.” Rozzi playfully rubbed his head. “We already pulled you on board so save the sales pitch.”

He laughed softly, “Sorry.”

“Well, we’re an odd bunch.” Wally said as turned to glance at Sho’ko before turning back to Gan. “Especially now… But we’re happy to have you along.”

Gan nodded firmly to his knight, acknowledging his welcome as everything he’d ever read about knights told him he should. His serious expression broke almost instantly as he saw Hyla moving over to the still open hatch.

She slowly pulled from her robes a string of beads, too large to be a bracelet, too small to be a necklace. She ran her fingers over it, each bead a different color, some made of wood, others stone or metal. She stopped on one that was clear as glass and held it out toward Orni’Hu in the growing distance. She said something none of them could hear before tucking the beads away and turning toward them. “It’s an old Sauroian tradition… Each bead on the mala represents someone who has passed on before you. It’s meant to anchor your memories of them, and reflect the gifts they gave you in life.”

The three of them very quickly realized just how many beads were on her mala and were about to say something when she serenely nodded to them all and made her way inside.

“Wally,” Rozzi asked quietly. “Is she…”

“Hyla’s fine… We all have our ways of dealing with loss and that’s hers. You don’t need to worry.”

Rozzi quietly sighed, turning out to face the floating isle that shone in the late afternoon sun, looking as peaceful as when they first approached. She was so worried on their way there she hadn’t taken it in quite how beautiful the cloud coated land truly was. ‘Hector did that,’ she quietly told herself. ‘He kept it flying.’

“Goodbye my friend,” Wally said aloud. “I promise we won’t let you down.”

Rozzi wrapped an arm around his waist. “No sir, we won’t.” Finally, she set the hatch to close.

Gan stared at his home for as long as the closing hatch allowed, he was now the furthest from it he’d ever been and only growing further by the second. He’d honor the knight that gave his life to save him and it from destruction, and resolved on the hatch’s closing to give his all for the cause and those awaiting his return.

---

“Wait, I’m not going with you?” Gan said somewhat despondently.

Wally, Rozzi, Wistea, and Sho’ko stood in the hangar bay of the Providence’s skiff. A pear shaped vehicle with folded wings and a single prop, much like the craft that brought Wally to Orni’Hu but the size of a large carriage. Polly had already sat down behind its wheel and checked over a small list of instructions written by Rollo Poda on how to launch it.

Wally did his best to look apologetic. “I’m sorry Gan; we have to divide our efforts. I have to go to Krust Mountain and the others have to try and protect the…” he trailed off, honestly losing track of the name.

Wistea chimed in, “The Aspect of Air.”

“Whatever that is,” Rozzi added.

Wistea gasped. “Rozzi! Do you honestly not remember that whole story Scholar Poda told us about… Ohhh wait, you meant what the actual Aspect is in relation to its nature, yes?”

“Sure, that’s what I meant.” The red panda rolled her eyes and headed toward the waiting airship.

Wally sighed and shook his head to dismiss the extra commentary. “We’ll be meeting up on an island just north of Sauro that Captain Blackeye knows we’ll be safe to hold out on until we’re all ready to take the fight directly to Kota.” He put a hand on Gan’s shoulder and smiled. “I know you’ll do right by everyone while I’m not around.”

“I promise, sir!”

“Good lad.” Wally turned from Gan and made his way up to Sho’ko, walking alongside him toward the waiting skiff. “So! Is Krust Mountain far from Orni’Hu?”

“Sho’ko, the humble traveler, cannot say whether our destination is near or far, as the distance is relative to those who’ve traveled it.”

“… I don’t know why I expected a straight answer.”

Wally and Rozzi sat on the bench-like seating directly behind Polly, and behind them Wistea was thin enough to occupy the space beside Sho’ko. The clear glass-like canopy of the skiff lowered over them with a thud and a hiss as it locked into place. Wally could see the four pillars that flanked the skiff begin to turn as the sound of a metal hatch opening sounded beneath them. On closer inspection he realized the pillars were unscrewing themselves and that the only way the skiff could make it out into the open air was to drop into empty sky.

He would’ve asked how safe that was had his stomach not so quickly and forcefully been introduced to his throat. Rozzi gave out a cheer that barely cut through Wistea’s panicked cries. The wings on the sides unfurled like sails and the prop quickly spun, carrying them all against the flow of gravity and turning at least two of their stomachs.

Polly giggled. “Sorry! Couldn’t think of a way t’prepare you for that, so I let it be a surprise!”

“TERRIBLE SURPRISE! ABSOLUTELY TERRIBLE!” Wistea shouted.

Wally groaned as his insides slowly settled back into place. He dared to look up and out as the skiff sped up and banked around the front of the God’s Providence. There, Blackeye gave them a firm salute that Wally, just barely, managed to return.

There wasn’t much to worry about as the skiff sailed for hours above a seemingly endless expanse of ocean below. Rozzi and Wally settled in for a much needed nap, using each other as cushions. Meanwhile Wistea struggled against Sho’ko’s overly poetic manner of speech to learn more about him.

“So, the guardians were created after Mondia was populated and given free thought?”

“There is no need for defense, if there is nothing to defend against.”

“Alright… So first the sun is lit, Mondia is made, and the moons are formed to help give it shape and spin. Life comes after all that, then free will, then the Guardians. So, one must conclude that you are the only ones left who remember the name of the gods!”

“Sho’ko, born of time and patience, did not ask for names he was never given.”

“They… Did not tell you their names?”

“This world is their legacy, the people on it, the skies and seas. What more would they need than to see it prosper and endure?”

“I had always thought gods would desire worship from their creation. Thanks for their work…”

“The fully formed world is the greatest thanks they could ask for. What happens upon it concerns them not, for their only will is to see how it progresses.”

“… Are you saying they might not help us?”

“Sho’ko, infinite in his condolence, cannot say yes or no. They will judge solely on the testimony of one.”

“But the goddess, the one in the Stellar Flare, she helped banish Kota.”

“Were Kota banished, this conversation would not be.”

The Planaetian sighed. “I suppose then I should tutor Wally on the finer points of debate and manners. The fate of our world may very well all hinge on his ability to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ at just the right time.”

“The fate of the world hinges on every choice made.”

Wistea shut her eyes and rubbed them stressfully. “Please don’t say things like that, I have enough to worry about.”

“Hey!” Polly called out from the front of the skiff. “Is that it over there?”

Sho’ko held up his hand, the palm of which glowed. He slowly panned it ahead of himself, the glow increasing and decreasing as it passed by some imaginary point. “We are near and must descend. The Point of Origin can only be approached from one direction; all others shall lead us astray. From the surface of the water, approach only when the black peak is between the other two and fly directly toward it regardless of any danger.”

Wistea gently woke Rozzi and Wally as the skiff made its way down to skirt the sea. All eyes watched as, in the distance, they could see a massive island comprised entirely of three mountain peaks. Of the three, one was blacker than the rare moonless midnight. Polly carefully flew them above the waves and watched as the black peak centered into view.

“Sho’ko,” Wistea began to ask. “You said ‘regardless of any danger’. What exactly did you mean?”

A single diamond finger pointed ahead toward the island. All eyes slowly went from it to the mountain peaks which, strangely, seemed to be rising from the sea. Amidst the stirring waters an incalculably large pair of crimson crab claws emerged along with eyes that shone with the size and brightness of a lighthouse each. An ear piercing gurgle of a noise crashed against the skiff’s front almost throwing it off balance.

The sight, however impossible, was entirely undeniable. Krust Mountain, the legendary moving island of the Southeastern seas, sat squarely on the back of an immense hermit crab.

<[Chapter 33]–[Index]–[Chapter 35]>

#A Baker's Quest #writing

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