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Chapter 209: Macabre Art
🕑 Added 2024-08-09 23:15:42 +0000 UTCChapter 209: Macabre Art
Three more days passed with Mercury in Stormbraver. He made more things, like a few cooking knives. He also sharpened them, and even made the handles himself out of wood. It wasn’t enough to get him a woodworking Skill yet, but hopefully learning the basics would get it to him soon.
By the end of the three days, at the evening when he was going to go home from the smithy, Yasashiku stopped him.
“Starlight-kun.”
“Yes?” Mercury asked.
“I have your javelins. And the shawl.”
Mercury’s attention was piqued. “Oh?”
The old man nodded, his face kept carefully neutral. He raised a hand, reaching into what was either his inventory or some kind of storage Skill, and pulled out an immaculate piece of bone.
Somehow they were a little paler than they had been, shining an immaculate white. Mercury could feel the static electricity where he was standing. Yasashiku pulled out javelin after javelin. Not all of them had been made from single bones, some were fused together after having worked and shaped the material.
Electricity buzzed in Mercury’s ears as a tiny noise. Yasashiku tossed one of the things up in his hand, and as it spun in the air, tiny arcs of white lightning spun through the air with them, accompanied by a cacophony of crackling. “Catch,” the blacksmith said, tossing one to Mercury.
He snatched it up with one of his ghost hands, holding the elongated piece of bone. It was about a meter and a half long, with spiralling grooves cut into the shaft to stabilize it in the air, and from up close, it genuinely made his fur rise. <Adaptable> was already counteracting the effect, and Mercury felt the buzzing in his ears subside slightly. Almost holding his breath, he appraised the item.
[<Stormbringer Javelins>: These javelins, produced by a master of forging, hold raw power within themselves. When impacting something, they will release electricity within the target, often stunning or paralyzing them. Additionally, they can be overcharged by being fed mana before being thrown. This will increase the amount of electricity released. With enough overcharge, explosive results are possible. Grade: A]
They were powerful. He could tell that much easily. Really, really powerful. The electricity would be hell for any creature that still depended on a nervous system, and he had the suspicion that the magic in them would make it stun even creatures that didn’t share that same anatomy. The overcharging would become more useful as he became more powerful.
And he had fifteen of the things.
Mercury smiled. “They’re perfect.”
At that, he saw the old man’s lips curve up just a little. “You haven’t even seen the best part.”
“Oh?” Mercury asked.
Once more, Yasashiku reached into his storage. First, he pulled out something halfway between a backpack and a quiver. It was a container for the javelins. He put them in there, one by one, then handed it to Mercury.
“This way they’ll only take one inventory slot. But that’s not the best part. Let me show you.” The old man’s faint smile turned into a wide grin as he pulled out one more item. “There we are,” he said, holding it out to Mercury.
It was… a cloud. That was the best way to describe it, Mercury thought. It was round and fluffy and strangely colourless. Mercury tilted his head. What colour was it? He… couldn’t tell.
“What’s with that effect?” he asked.
Yasashiku grinned. “Look at it a little differently.”
Mercury looked at it through ihn’ar, slipping into it like the embrace of an old friend, and some mysteries revealed themselves. The shawl was, in fact, not quite any single colour. It shifted from black to white through all stages of grey, depending on how Mercury looked at it. It was also not of one shape.
Looking at it more closely, he could change his perspective on it, and see it as a thin wisp of mist, or a full on cloud that would be big enough to envelop him. “How… strange.”
“Right?” Yasashiku asked, still smiling. “Go on, appraise it.”
[<Cloudmatter Shawl>: An experimental creation, this object pushes the limits of reasonable craftsmanship. Free of corruption, the shawl is formless, a raiment of possibility. Its alignment shifts as the wind, however it will never vanish, carrying a source of energy within itself. This malleable piece of equipment will hide its wielder, and allow them to attune to any elements that is coursed through the shawl. Additionally, outside attacks will be partially subsumed into it. Finally, within the cloudmatter, there is a soft space where items may be stored and withdrawn. Grade: Unique S]
Mercury’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit.”
The blacksmith grinned. “Well? How is it?”
“Incredible,” Mercury said easily.
“That’s not even all,” Yasashiku said proudly. “Since I turned the arc fuel into a recharging power source via some runic shenanigans about absorption and recharge and cycling, it will also be able to use some of that energy to restore itself when cloudmatter is expended. It’s already hard to take apart, but it’ll also restore itself, even slowly grow the reservoir of power it can hold.
“On top of that,” he continued, “with it being malleable and formless, it lends itself exceptionally well to bonding. I’m reasonably sure that it might naturally form a bond if you inject it with enough mana.”
Mercury had to hold himself back from hanging his jaw open. “You’ve outdone yourself,” he said.
“Go on,” Yasashiku said, making shooing motion with his hand while disregarding the compliment. “Put it on already.”
Nodding, Mercury obliged, reaching out for the formless raiment with his Skills. It felt soft, yet sturdy as he pulled it closer to himself, then wrapped it around his neck.
The scarf seemingly elongated, two wispy streams trailing through the air over his back, all the way to the middle of his tail. He could already feel a slight connection with it, that would allow him to funnel mana into the item, or even take some out, like a power bank. He could also feel the space within it.
At the same time, there was that same feeling of malleability that the Dream of Starvation had, though this one felt a little different. He could change the shape from a plume of thick clouds to thin streams of mist, turning it almost invisible or entirely opaque. He could shift the colours, too, unlike with his weapons, though only in a grayscale.
Maybe with some manipulation, he figured he could make it bend light slightly, maybe cast rainbows or help it hide him even more, which would synergize well with <Veil>. “It’s genuinely amazing.”
He loved it. It helped how soft the thing was to wear. And the fact that he could manipulate its density and such made it possible for it to feel warming or cool to the touch. Mercury smiled brightly. “I love it. Thank you so much, Ryuutesai-sensei.”
The old man blushed slightly at that, trying to hide the redness of his cheeks by rubbing his nose underneath the bird mask. “Well. I’m glad you like it. I gained a Skill level making it, so it better have turned out well! Heh.”
“It really did,” Mercury agreed.
For a few moments, they let it hang in the air, the raiment dancing in the wind. It really suited him. Mercury just kept enjoying the new sensation and tethers he had. With this, and having spent the last days catching up with everyone he knew… he took a deep breath. It was time-
“You’re gonna return to the fae now, aren’t you?” Yasashiku asked before he even finished the thought. His voice was calm and measured.
Mercury nodded slowly. “Yes. I will.”
The old man nodded, too, a quick, strong motion. “Take care of yourself. Come back quickly. Ask for help if you need it.”
Surprised, Mercury blinked. He was making it easy on him, really easy even. It put a faint smile on his lips. “Thank you. I’ll be back soon.”
“No more than two pages,” Yasashiku chided, “or your skills will start to rust.”
“Of course,” Mercury said, dipping his head. “Thank you for all your help.”
“Bah,” the old man waved him off. “It’s nothing. Head off now, you have other people to say goodbye to. I’ll see you again soon.”
Mercury smiled faintly, as the old man turned around. “Yes, until then.”
With that, he turned around, and walked away. He’d be back.
- - -
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come along?” Zyl asked, worriedly.
“Yes,” Mercury nodded, “I am sure. It’ll be dangerous. And it might suck. But I want to take care of this myself.”
Zyl sighed, but nodded slowly. “I understand that. But you know friends are there so you can rely on them. Especially boyfriends!”
Mercury smiled a little. “Of course I know, silly. I love you for it. And I know that if you’re in trouble, you’d come and save me. But this is about someone very dear to me, who I owe a lot in this life. Someone whom I’ve earned the <Successor> title from, I mean. Nothing weird.”
“Sasasa, don’t worry, I didn’t imagine it was weird. I trust you,” he said, ruffling Mercury’s fur slightly. “Okay. But we need to establish some kind of distress signal you can send, yeah?”
“Hmmm,” Mercury hummed. “Okay, that’s reasonable, yes.”
“Good. I know you can place marks on people through their dreams, but I’d prefer something simpler, okay? I have enough Skill points saved up. Let me just… there we go.” Zyl smiled. Then he closed his eyes, and Mercury felt a tether form between them. It was a simple string. “It’s called <Danger Notice>, and is a rather one-dimensional Skill. It will let me know if you’re in danger.”
Mercury nodded. “I can live with that.”
“If you can’t, you can also cut it. The Skill needs mutual consent in order to remain active. It also needs a bond of trust between the users. And a large initial mana expenditure. In exchange, it is very nearly unbreakable by outside influence, such as distance,” Zyl explained.
“Huh, that’s neat,” Mercury said. It was a Skill that clearly had a lot of restrictions and requirements, but in exchange, it did what it was meant for very well. It was like using a very specific and optimized tool, in a way.
“You’re all set,” Zyl said with a faint, somewhat sad, smile. “I support you, Mercury. I want you to be happy. Do what you need to do, then come back, yes?”
“I will.”
“If you’re in danger, I’ll bring everyone who wants to come. I hope you know this,” Zyl said.
“I know,” Mercury nodded, smiling. “I’ll be off then. Before Juno follows me,” he added with a playful wink.
“Alright,” Zyl said, nodding slightly. Then, he reached out, hugged Mercury for a moment, and kissed him on the forehead. “Come back soon.”
“I will,” Mercury agreed. He felt… prepared. His leg itched a little, still regrowing. His balance felt off, but he was ready, and that was his <Truth>. He took a deep breath, feeling the air flow in and out of his lungs. “See you later, Zyl.”
“See you.”
With those words, Mercury summed his bound key to the fae realm. He held it in one of his ghostly hands, extended it forward, and willed it to unlock a door. Then, he twisted it.
The air split open in front of the key, the world itself sliding aside, revealing a passageway of pale wood. Mercury looked back at Zyl with a smile. “I’ll be right back,” he said, then stepped through.
When he looked back, Zyl was waving at him from the other side. He waved back until the passage closed.
- - -
Being back in the fae realm was a strange feeling, but Mercury committed to it. He hardened himself again, wrapping his own <Truth> tightly around himself. The truth was that he was free, and would always be that. He summoned <Rainfall>, feeling the magic surround himself, and drench his items.
He summoned air within his own lungs, mimicking a deep breath, holding it in, then letting it out. “Haaaaaaah.”
He felt ready.
For now, there was a little waiting to do, though. Arber would be here soon. Well, they would if they knew he was here, so Mercury spent a moment casting a tiny bit of ice magic to cool the wood around himself. If his presence didn’t alter the tree - which it probably did - having some frost condensing on their insides surely would.
And indeed, only about fifty seconds of Mercury practicing his ystirs later, Arber appeared. The Avatar with the giant wooden pirate hat simply rose from the floor.
“Mercury!” they greeted him. “So you return, matey.”
The mopaaw couldn’t help but crack a smile. “You know, you’re probably the part I missed the most about this place.”
“Wow, rude,” Alice jokingly supplied from next to them. She’d appeared with a gust of wind. Mercury felt the breeze greet him for a short moment before it dissipated. The way she gave life to the things she befriended was really quite something.
“You hardly count,” Mercury said. “I clearly met you back on… what is the other realm called?”
“Usually just the material realm. For material girls like me,” she said, with a small wink.
Mercury gave a small snort, then brushed it off. Instead, he took another deep breath. “Is Daryel nearby?” he asked.
Arber nodded. “Already notified her. She should await us in her room. She is still staying here, paying with some of the favour your ‘feat’ has earned, Mercury.” The tree avatar eyed him for a few moments, but remained silent.
Kind girl Alice did not share their concerns. “And what a feat it was! I didn’t know you had it in you, Mercury. Frankly, I didn’t think anyone had it in them!” she laughed a little, in that bright, chiming way she did.
“Well. I was near death, which usually helps,” he joked. “Desperate times and all that. If I’m delirious to the point of not knowing how hard something is, a lot of mental barriers vanish.”
“Right,” Arber said. “I am glad you only got close, though. I think you’ve sparked quite a bit of hope around here with your stunt.”
That was the <Truth>, too, Mercury noted. He had made a very genuine change in what the fae realm was at its core. He was very sure some people minded, but any change was a good change if the alternative was stagnation.
Hope, though? “What, are the fae expecting me to repeat this?”
“Our queen sure is hoping for it,” Alice noted. “Though, of course, not everyone is for this.”
“As if that wasn’t obvious,” Arber gruntled. “No one in this damn realm can ever agree on anything.”
Mercury smiled faintly. “Fae sure are exhausting to deal with,” he said. The other two simply nodded, and then remained silent for the remaining bit of their short walk. Soon, they were in front of Daryel’s room, the wooden door sliding aside.
“Ah, welcome,” the old woman greeted them. “Come in, come in. I made tea. Please, take a cup.”
With a wave of her hand, small teacups appeared on the table, and she quickly filled four of them up from the pot in the middle. Mercury hopped on one of the wooden chairs, stumbling for just a moment. His balance had improved, but the prosthetic still wasn’t perfect, especially since it shifted each day.
But he was handling it. Reaching out with <Force of the Hacatoncheires>, he brought the cup to his mouth, sipping at the same time as Alice and Arber did. “Good tea,” he praised.
Daryel smiled faintly. She seemed in a good mood, giving Mercury a small bow. “Please, do not mind it. This is barely a piece of repayment for what I have gained from your achievement.”
“Oh?” Mercury asked. “And what did you gain from it?”
“The means to an end,” Daryel said. She was still smiling, but now it felt sharp, her eyes glinting dangerously. “I have purchased a path to the broken throne. It will only take us there once, and then we will need to deal with things ourselves. But it will work.”
She reached into the long sleeves of her robe, withdrawing an item from within. It was a horn, like that of a ram, curled and wide, but made entirely from brass. It was intricately carved, both the curls of a natural horn, as well as vines and berries winding around the main body.
Gingerly, she placed it onto the table. The horn seemed to lay heavily on the wood, leaving a thin imprint on it. Mercury wondered how much it weighed.
“I won’t be able to follow ye on those seas, Mercury,” Arber noted with a hint of sadness. “It is too far.”
Mercury nodded. “I would not expect you to, friend. We will return. Alice, would you accompany us?”
The kind girl smiled faintly. “Sure. I don’t see why I wouldn’t.”
“Us three will go, then,” Daryel said. “Or do you have other allies to call on?”
Both shook their head, for a variety of reasons. Mercury imagined that old Uunrahzil would have helped, were they still around. But they weren’t.
A brief flare of anger ignited within Mercury, but he quickly extinguished it. That emotion was important, but not currently productive. He did not need it yet.
Instead, he took a deep breath from within <Rainfall>. “Just us. It’ll be enough.”
Daryel looked at him and nodded, taking a sip of the tea. She calmly placed it back down on the table. Facing Mercury, she asked in a cuttingly neutral tone, “Will you mend that realm like you did the last one?”
Mercury looked back. “No,” he said. “Never.”
He was not beyond forgiveness. In fact, Mercury didn’t enjoy holding grudges. He wasn’t even too mad at Berthorn anymore, despite all the things that man had done. And maybe, if the broken throne simply undid whatever happened to old Uunrahzil, Mercury could forgive that, too.
Maybe. He wasn’t so sure about that one. Maybe he’d just fucking break it for a while, too.
Gritting his teeth, Mercury drowned that thought beneath the surface of <Still Mirror>. He knew he had some anger problems, but he would not allow them to take this much control over his life. He would not make decisions only based on his anger. He was slowly moving past them.
Which is why this relapse was even more aggravating, but he let all that fade beneath the surface of his inner lake as well. Water under the bridge.
He focused again on the present. “Do we need to prepare anything for this expedition? Tell anyone about it?”
Daryel smiled faintly. “I think anyone who wishes to know about it already knows. There is little you can hide from the fae in their own realm.”
“Yeah,” Arber said with a small grimace. “I try to give some amount of privacy, but there is only so much one can do.”
Mercury nodded a little. “I see. So are there any more preparations to be made, from any of us? Alice, Daryel?”
“I am ready,” the old woman said.
“Me too,” Alice added with a smile.
Arber drummed their fingers on the table. “I’ll handle any fallout over here. Leave it to me.”
“Thank you,” Mercury said, flashing his tree buddy a smile. “Let’s go, then.”
He brought the rest of the tea to his lips, finishing his cup. Everyone else did so too.
Then, gently, Daryel reached for the brass horn. She lifted it from the table with ease, even though its weight had left a rather distinct imprint on the wood.
Gently, almost lovingly, she brought the horn to her lips. Then, with an inhale, she sounded it.
The noise was deafening. A roar of metal against the calm silence of the tree. It was probably audible hundreds of metres away.
Something strange happened a moment later. The sound seemed to stretch out, longer and longer, until it turned into a dull droning. Then, it flooded backwards.
Mercury saw the air vibrate in front of his eyes, the dull droning turning into a high pitched squeal. It all collapsed into one point with a thunderclap, and suddenly, the wall of the room wasn’t a wall at all anymore.
The brass horn collapsed into dust.
In front of Mercury was a portal. No, not quite a portal.
A faerie path.
It called out to him. He felt it resonate through <Itinerant>. The place beyond this path was truly a rare sight, and he couldn’t make sense of it from this side. So, stopping his gazing, Mercury stepped forward.
“May your voyage be safe,” Arber said.
“Yours, too,” Mercury called back, then stepped through.
- - -
Then, the world shifted. Mercury came out the other side of blending colours, and unwinding smells, and wanted to almost throw up instantly.
What he felt of the realm of this throne was suffocation.
A disgusting push and pull lay in the air, ripping and pressing at his <Rainfall>. Unwinding it and putting it back together, like an angry toddler tearing at puzzle pieces. It was violating, and disgusting.
Mercury drew his stormy mantle tighter, until it clung just above his skin, and finally, the claws of this realm slipped off him. He could look around.
To his sides, there were Alice and Daryel. The kind girl seemed entirely unfazed, blankly staring ahead. Her demeanor, though, was a different matter. She stood with both feet firmly rooted on the ground, her eyes humourless. Like she was going to war.
Daryel was a different matter entirely. In fact, the old woman hovered slightly above the ground, wrapped in an aura of dense purple. He could see the air distort around her, as her magic pulled at the air as much as it pulled against her.
Then, there was the realm itself around Mercury.
Carefully, he took a step forward, and his paw touched a spot of grass. It felt as if the ground was sticky, wanting his feet to cling to it, but he could still lift it. He was less affected by this, since it was a purely mental effect, and the stickiness slid off of <Truth>.
The world wanted to grab a pieces of him. It wanted to unravel him - but in a different way from Joy’s realm. This wasn’t decaying and seeking out salvation.
It was decaying, yes, but that was not why it pulled at him. There was a hunger there. A love for life, and a need to possess it. This realm would have pulled at him in that way even if it wasn’t falling apart.
And it was falling apart. It was breaking and shattering and reconstituting itself at the seams all the time. It was vibrant and dull. All around him, Mercury found the landscape to be one of beauty.
Stunning waterfalls, rivers that were clear, beautiful sunsets, towering mountains, and sprawling, fog filled valleys. Nature in its most gorgeous form, but it was fused with more than that. There were spires, arches, intricate carvings and ancient, overgrown ruins. There were palaces from underwater, constructions of glass, and smaller artworks.
Rings and jewelry. Paintings, and books. Everything one may imagine that could be crafted by a living thing. Anything that someone had put effort into.
It was all there, stolen, and kept forever.
And it was all crumbling, forever.
The world around Mercury continuously collapsed and cracked and fell apart. One wonder replaced another, as waterfalls ripped down the middle. Spires fell apart, only to be replaced by citadels. Things rose and fell, over and over and over again. Beauty replaced by more beauty in a constant need for more.
But that was not what disgusted Mercury the most.
Instead, stepping through the realm, there was something far more disgusting.
There were more things here that were beautiful. Not just objects, everything.
Mercury looked around, and saw things that were trapped. Owned. He saw butterflied, encased in amber cocoons, forever frozen, but he knew they were alive.
Beetles, cast in crystal. Felines and mammoths in ice. And, of course, sapient creatures, too.
Elves, their bodies covered in tattoos and intriquate lines were forever frozen. Sipisc, wearing glorious armor. Dwarves with runes, Orcs with bloody lines and scars. Every definition, every measure of beauty, was trapped here.
Humans, spirits, examples of every species Mercury knew and then infinitely more on top of that. Alive, but unmoving. Frozen, unblinking, undying. Trapped. Forever breaking apart, then reconstituting itself. Mercury watched as the amber entrapping a human child broke for a moment, and it reached out as if gasping for air. Only for the world to crumble around it, and the child to disappear.
Probably recast in amber, now in a new pose, displayed somewhere else in this macabre gallery.
He gritted his teeth. ‘Fuck this,’ he thought. It was disgusting.
Slowly, he placed one foot in front of the other. That sticky feeling reappeared, but the amber seeking to trap him, turn him into one more display piece, slid off him. It didn’t stick, pushed aside by <Rainfall>, by his <Truth>. He was more than a simple artwork. And he’d make sure that this realm, which tried to reduce him to that, would pay the damned price.
Comments
Zuuuuuri
This place in not redeemable, it needs to fall for the fae realm to be born anew and for this eternal stagnation to end
