Kernoel77
patreon
Chapter 159: A Little Help
🕑 Added 2023-08-26 02:07:30 +0000 UTCChapter 159: A Little Help
Seeing an old lady carry someone so easily threw Mercury off for all of two seconds, until he remembered that by now, he probably wouldn’t exactly have a lot of trouble carrying Zyl either. Well, as long as the man didn’t turn into his dragon form.
Thinking of that, Mercury was slightly confused. Despite all of the commotion, he hadn’t seen a single person at the ball turn into a full-on dragon. Sure, there had been a fair share of wings and claws and scales and sharp teeth, but despite the fighting, and how many things broke, no one turned into what he knew from books.
So, when they were finally out of earshot, he asked Irrithuriel. “Hey, old lady, is it just me or did no one at the party actually turn into a dragon?”
There was a chuckle next to him, coarse like the crunch of fresh snow underneath a set of warm boots. “Fehfeh, well, Starlight, you sure are astute. Yes, there’s a few good reasons for that. Such as not wanting to break the entire place, or cause political issues. But really, it’s because unveiling your true form is shameful. A show of weakness.”
“Dragons really are that vain?” Mercury asked.
“Many of them, certainly, yes. Not all. Others restrained themselves because they do not wish to start a feud, or accidentally kill someone they’re allied with. You see, when you’re in a large form, manoeuvring delicately becomes hard, and stepping on your own cousin is quite unpleasant,” she said, her expression somewhere between a smirk and a grimace.
“Alright, that’s fair. Final question, then, where are we headed?”
They’d been running for a while now, and at a decent pace, too. Not exactly at his maximum speed, but it was eating into Mercury’s stamina by now.
“Oh, we’re almost there, Starlight. In fact…” she paused for a moment, then moved her hand in a gesture. “Unveil,” Irrithuriel called, and suddenly, just a little ways away on a flat piece of mountain, a house appeared.
It seemed somewhat modest, with a couple bits of flowers all around the place. Really, it looked just like what he imagined a winter witch’s hut to look like. There was a small dusting of snow all over the roof and around the place, and most of the flowers were white or blue. Irrithuriel took the last couple steps in one grand leap, and Mercury took a few more minutes to catch up.
The air was chilly near the hut. Not frigid like when he visited the caretaker, but he felt <Adaptable> working again, turning his fur thicker. Soon, the cold became a comfortable chill. The old lady opened the door for him.
“Let me welcome you into my home, Starlight. It might be small for a dragon, but I prefer it this way,” she said, a smirk on her lips.
Mercury quickly stepped inside, the air only a little warmer there. The room was expansive, too, far bigger than it would have looked like from the outside. Really, the place should have only fit a single room, yet the inside decidedly had doors heading off to the sides. The furniture was mostly wood, some of it covered in a thin layer of frost.
Padded chairs stood around an unlit fireplace, and in the corner there was an expansive space with lots and lots of vials filled with different powders and petals. Some of them were strewn about a worktable.
A pot hung over a more magical looking plate, with a few cores and runes inlaid in it, bubbling already. “Ah, it seems my little helpers have prepared a meal for me to come back to. How lovely of them,” Irrithuriel croaked happily.
She swiftly stepped over, tasted the stew, then turned to Mercury. “Do you have any allergies or dietary restrictions I should be worried about?” she asked, Zyl still slung over her shoulder.
“Not anymore,” Mercury replied, “though you may first want to put Zyl down.”
“Right, yes, of course!” the old lady said, chuffing at herself. “Just a moment.” Then, she pulled at a bit of the wall that looked like a cupboard, and with a click, the top came down, revealing a mattress. “I hope he doesn’t mind wall beds. It’s probably a bit worse than what the young lord is used to,” she remarked, gently placing him on the sheets.
Mercury laughed lightly at that. “He’ll be fine, he’s been sleeping in a carriage for a page now.”
“Fehfeh, then this will be a welcome change, I’m sure. Please, take a seat wherever you’d like.” Irrithuriel gestured over the room and the few chairs that were strewn about, heading back towards the pot herself. While Mercury curled up next to Zyl, she dropped a few more spices into the pot, then tasted it again.
“Right, just needs to simmer a little more. You can just wait here if you’d like while I put this infernal gown away. My little friends can help you if you need anything,” she said, winking at mercury, before heading off into one of the side-doors.
There was a brief silence, before Mercury heard a chittering noise from the floor. When he looked down, he saw what seemed to be a small crab, made from wood and ice, clicking its pincers at him, as if asking whether he needed any help.
Actually, that was <Intuition> telling him it was asking. Mercury smiled at the thing. “No, thank you, I’m fine little guy,” he said, and watched as the crab skittered away, disappearing beneath some other furniture. He was sure there were more little ones like it around, given that Irrithuirel had called them her helpers. Did she make them herself?
Before he had a chance to further ponder the question, Appy interrupted him.
[The individual is encouraged to take a look at the suppressed notifications from battle.]
“Right, right, I should get to that.” Mercury quickly nodded, and pulled up the menus.
[Your Skills and Abilities have levelled up: <Bloodlust lv. 6 -> 7>, <Claw lv. 7 -> 8>, <Reinforcement Dash lv. 3 -> 4>, <Veil lv. 1 -> 2>, <Diplomacy lv. 1 -> 2>!]
Mercury couldn’t hold back a snort when he saw that <Diplomacy>, specifically, had levelled up. He didn’t think his action would exactly be described as “diplomatic”, really. Especially giving the following notification.
[The individual’s local infamy has increased.]
That seemed more accurate for what had happened, really. He probably hadn’t exactly made allies, there. Well, actually, maybe with Nir.
He shook his head and focused on the notifications again, there was still one to go over.
[<Bloodlust> has met the necessary qualifications for evolution. Evolve? (700 Skill points)]
Huh. This wasn’t exactly within his expectations, but he wasn’t about to turn down an evolution. Yes, he was more than willing to evolve <Bloodlust>, even if he had let the Skill fall by the wayside a little lately.
[Evolution confirmed. Engaging. Please pick an option to evolve the Skill into. The price will be the same (700 Skill points), no matter which you choose.]
[1. <Projection of Fury>
2. <Dominance>
3. <Witnessed>
4. <Promise of Violence>]
[<Projection of Fury>: The individual is able to channel their anger into this Skill and allow it to physically take hold upon their enemies, greatly intimidating them. The more rage the user feels, the more potent this Skill.]
It felt like he got offered this particular evolution because of what he had done to Zyl’s mother at the gathering, pushing his anger into the Skill. It had intimidated her, which seemingly worked quite well, and this seemed an extension of that kinda path. At the same time, linking his Skills to his emotions may not always be a great idea.
What if, at some point, the Skill activated subconsciously when he just got angry with someone for normal reasons? He didn’t exactly want to take that risk. So, instead, he took a look at the next Skill.
[<Dominance>: Some beings are considered greater than others. The individual is one such being, and this Skill allows them to prove it. Anyone considered lesser than the individual must cower before them. This may be in evolutionary tier, or simply in the mental image of the target or the Skill’s user.]
This seemed less linked to his anger, and much more to his pride. Again, while definitely powerful, it felt more like something to suppress others. But if it was based on people being weaker than him, did he even need the Skill at all?
[<Witness>: The individual has seen beyond the veil. This Skill allows the user to project the weight of their gaze onto others. Additionally, the intent of the user may be transmitted to some degree, altering the Skill’s effects. It is possible to place a “mark”, as the individual has called it, onto others using this Skill.]
Compared to the others, <Witness> seemed much more up his alley. It tied in well with his dreamscape, especially the last bit about setting marks. Of course, he could already do that himself, with reasonable success, but having a Skill that let him do so more easily would definitely help.
Still, he took a look at the final Skill.
[<Promise of Violence>: Uncertainty is weakness, hesitation is defeat. Such things are eliminated from this Skill. It is no longer a transmitter of intent, but rather a simple promise, one of harm and danger. The target of the Skill will receive undoubtable knowledge of what will happen to them should they continue what they are doing, and any damage done to them after breaking the condition of the promise is increased.]
That was… a much more menacing description. It seemed suited for some people, certainly, but didn’t feel right to Mercury. Even though it was probably the strongest Skills, since those with conditions attached usually seemed to have greater effects, he didn’t like it. Not all things needed to be solved with violence.
Clearly, Mercury was an exceptional diplomat.
As such, he made his selection.
[The individual has acquired the Skill <Witness> through Skill evolution!]
A few minutes later, Irrithuriel came back into the room, stretching her arms far above her head. She wore a much lighter dress now, in dim, night-blue colours. Her eyes lazily drifted across the room, landing on Mercury, and she quirked an eyebrow.
“Your eyes look different, Starlight,” she noted. “Did anything happen while I was gone?”
“Nothing major, I just evolved a Skill of mine, seems like it might have minor side effects.”
“Interesting,” the old lady muttered, stroking her chin. “Well, Skills that cause such immediate change are rare, and ones as subtle as this are even rarer. Your eyes were already extraordinary, it adds to the mystical feel. I approve of your choice!” She flashed him a grin, and Mercury couldn’t help but smirk back.
“I suppose I am happy to hear it,” he said.
“You should be! Not to glisten my own scales, but I’d wager you don’t receive advice from someone as high levelled as I very often.”
Mercury’s eyes drifted to Zyl for a few moments, but they hadn’t talked much about system things, and he didn’t exactly know what level Yvette, Yasashiku, or old Uunrahzil were. So, instead, he just nodded. “I suppose I don’t.”
“You also don’t get someone this high level to cook for you, usually,” she remarked with a smile, pouring some of the stew that had been bubbling away into a wooden bowl for him. “Will you, uh, need a spoon?”
“Hahaha, no, I’ll be fine,” Mercury laughed, hopping onto the chair the food was in front of. Appy quickly confirmed that it didn’t seem poisoned, and <Intuition> had not rung a single warning bell at Irrithuriel yet, so he ate.
Soon, the old lady sat opposite of him, eating from another bowl herself. “Right, Starlight, since you asked me a couple questions, can I ask you some as well?”
“Of course, Irrithuriel,” Mercury agreed.
“Fehfeh, at least you remembered my name.”
“To be fair, you did make quite a show of telling me,” he said, smirking.
The old lady scratched her chin again. “I suppose I did. Well, anything at that ball would have been a show, really. Could have cut the air with a claw,” she creaked, and Mercury nodded in agreement. “But I suppose that’s quite beside the point right now. I am curious. Why did you come here?”
“Well, I think the answer to that is obvious. We want back something that was stolen.”
“Right, yes, the spark. Of course. Trinyakorie made sure that we all knew what she now possessed. I am quite surprised your partner is already in such good condition again.” She glanced over at Zyl on the bed. “Well. Was in such good condition, this might set him back a little.”
Almost as if to accentuate her point, Zyl gave a few weak coughs from on the bed, stirring slightly.
“I’ll make sure to brew some medicine once we’ve eaten. If he wakes up, make sure he eats as well. It’s vital if he wishes to regain his strength,” she said, and Mercury nodded.
“Well, then, I’m a little more interested in your story, Starlight. Such bravery from someone so unassuming. Though perhaps those are your Skills at work, you hardly seem quite as bland now,” the old lady rasped.
“I seemed bland?” Mercury asked.
“Feh, I thought I was supposed to get a chance to ask? Fine, fine, yes, you did. In fact, I would have hardly been able to tell you apart from a normal mopaaw. That Skill of yours that you used to be harder to find might have a lesser passive effect. Most Skills do, really,” she explained between bites.
“Interesting… Right. My story. I should mention I’m, uh, not exactly from Chronagen.”
“Oh, a worldwalker, then?”
“Yes, yes. That,” Mercury said, and Irrithuriel nodded along.
“I suppose that explains some of your bravery. I’d assumed you were a kin.”
“Not so. Still unsure how to feel about that, I’ve never met any, after all.”
The old lady nodded again. “Yes, I can see why you’d be apprehensive. They have… a certain reputation.”
“Exactly,” the mopaaw agreed. “But I suppose I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. I met Zyl after I’d already been in this world for more than a whole chapter. He is very much so my type,” he admitted, and a small smile found itself on the old woman’s lips.
“I asked him to date, and, much to my surprise, he agreed. So we went from there, practically glued to one another for two pages. We got along well, great even, but eventually, I went into the wilderness again. Met a few people, got caught up in some business. By the time I was able to come back, half a chapter had passed, and Zyl was already on the way to recovering from his… condition.”
“Right. And this spark, how did Berthorn finally convince him to hand it over?” Irrithuriel asked.
At that, Mercury’s eyes sharpened. He didn’t feel any warning bells go off in his head, but the sentence was more than enough to put him on edge. “Why do you want to know?” he asked tersely.
Irrithuriel looked up from her food in surprise. “Oh, goodness,” she said. “I must’ve really scraped your scales there. I apologize. I can see how my words might seem hostile. I assure you I meant no harm, feel free not to answer.”
Mercury’s raised fur lowered a little at her words. He was on edge. Which meant that she wasn’t using any calming Skills on him, at least. Most mental manipulation Skills might not work on him, but just because that was true with the bishop didn’t mean it was true for everyone. Irrithuriel had higher levelled Skills than Nemo without a doubt.
“Alright. Let’s let the topic rest,” the old woman said, taking another bite of soup. Mercury noted that she moved deliberately slowly, probably so she didn’t upset him any further. “Why not tell me other things. I’m curious about your perspective on this world. It must have been strange.”
“It was. Very strange. Danger around every corner, all the time,” he snorted in a mix of annoyance and amusement. “To think I used to be most worried about whether I would be fired, now it’s all thinking about whether or not someone will leap at my throat.”
“Chronagen can be hostile. I’ve heard of a few other worldwalkers who share your sentiment.”
“I imagine they would, if they’re from the same place as I am. Then again, apparently they don’t exactly need to be from the same time as me, so some of them might have had very different experiences.”
“Ah, yes, quite. A man named Musashi once visited me some chapters ago. Asked for my help with transitioning, see. He’d been reborn into a woman’s body, and seemed quite uncomfortable with it,” she said, then drank from a cup of water that a small squirrel carved from ashen wood had brought her.
Mercury nodded. “I’m glad he got the help he needed.”
“Indeed. As he visited we chatted, and he told me he lived in rather turbulent times. Fought dozens of battles, with his sword as his only partner and lifeline.”
“That sounds about right.” Mercury nodded along. “In my time, things were much more outwardly peaceful. There was still plenty of hatred for one another among the people though.”
“Always things to hate when you’re looking for them,” Irrithuriel said.
“Mh.”
The two ate in comfortable silence for a bit, with Mercury less worried about her probing Zyl. Irrithuriel got done eating before him, and took a seat at the table full of herbs, and began working. Grinding things down, mixing them with water, distilling.
A few times a minute, a little helper would scurry up a small ramp carved around one of the legs of the table, and deposit some flowerbud or bring her some vial of liquid. Mercury tried to keep track of them, and saw them disappear into small holes in the wall, each one lined with a few dozen runes.
Did they have their own little pocket space in there?
Regardless, watching the little critters work was fascinating. Their movements seemed smooth, almost natural, despite the fact that they were made from wood and ice. Never once did any of them even begin melting or dripping, they simply endlessly continued on doing their duties.
Irrithuriel seemed to prefer small critters for her helpers. She had mice, squirrels, crabs, lobsters, and some larger beetles as well. The sound of their little legs rasping on the wooden floor first seemed a little grating to Mercury, but soon became background noise.
He soon finished up his meal, and began to watch the old dragon at work. Her hands moved with dexterity that seemed unbefitting of her age, but then again, with the system at work, there was not much surprise at that.
Did dragons even age in this world? Maybe she just chose to present herself as old. If they could shapeshift anyway, then why bother, right? He hadn’t noticed any other super old looking dragons in the crowd at the celebration, but at the same time, he hadn’t really looked.
Whatever, he would ask later. For now, his eyes stayed fixed on Irrithuriel’s hands. They moved gracefully, effortlessly picking apart ingredients, and taking them through the steps of refinement. There were a lot of steps, it seemed, though some were solved rather quickly with a flash of magic.
A few more minutes passed quietly, the old dragon not even glancing at Mercury as her world seemed to be entirely within the confines of that table, dealing with glassware and plants. She deftly combined things one after another, and by the end, there was a small vial, full of aquamarine liquid.
The potion was thick and syrupy, almost like honey, but seemed as though someone had distilled a gem down into a vial, sparkling into the light. Irrithuriel leaned back in the chair with a sigh, smiling to herself.
“Haven’t tried a recipe this challenging in chapters,” she said to no one in particular, gazing upwards at the rune-lined ceiling of her little cabin. She took a few moments to breathe, then turned to Mercury, pushing the vial towards him. “Feel free to analyze it. It’s for your boyfriend,” she said, giving him a wink.
Quickly he activated <Seeker of Secrets> on the vial, trying to figure out what it was.
[<Elixir of Regeneration>: A much more gentle approach than a generic healing potion, this elixir will help the body restore itself. Grade: S]
That letter at the end stunned him for a moment. With it, he couldn’t help himself, and activated <Revelation> on it as well.
Immediately, 70% of his mana disappeared, the spell taking the absolute highest amount it possibly could. A few more lines were added to the description.
[<Elixir of Regeneration>: A much more gentle approach than a generic healing potion, this elixir will help the body restore itself. It has been put together with the greatest care from high quality ingredients. Using multiple of these potions in a short timeframe may promote cell mutation. Excessive consumption is discouraged. The creator has also ensured it tastes like blueberries. Grade: S]
Mercury blinked in confusion at that last line, then huffed a bit. It seemed that the elixir was genuinely harmless. Given the size of the vial, he highly doubted it would cross the threshold to being dangerous, and <Revelation> seemed reliable in terms of the information it gave.
He turned to face the old alchemist. “Do we owe you anything for this?”
She smiled. “No, well, I suppose it depends. I would also like to see Zyl’s spark returned to him. If just for the reason that Trinyakorie wishes to craft a weapon from it, one which I don’t believe should see the light of day.”
“Is that… all?”
“Fehfeh, you’re welcome to pay me more, Starlight,” she chuckled.
There was a short silence as Mercury collected his thoughts. “Thank you. I will make sure to repay you for this properly one day.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She waved him off. “It’s fine. Now go, make your friend drink it if you trust me enough to think I wouldn’t poison him.”
Nodding, Mercury picked the little vial up with <Telekinesis>, then brought it over to the bed. “Hey Zyl,” he said, lightly tapping the other man, who stirred to look at him with bleary eyes. “Could you open your mouth for me for a moment? I have something you should drink.”
Zyl nodded very slightly, then tiredly opened his mouth, as if waiting for Mercury to pour something in. The mopaaw gave him the elixir, and the dragon swallowed it down.
- - - - - -
Berthorn sat amidst his ruined mansion, chunks of wood buried in the soil around him. There was a crater, too. Thorythenior had smashed the ground hard enough to rip a chunk out of the mountain.
The spatially locked bits had survived, mostly, and much of his staff had fled when the battle began. There were no casualties, but it had been a large hit to Berthorn’s pride.
Now, he simply sat there, on the wilted grass. No one came close to him. There was a thick cloud of poisonous gas enveloping the dragon, so much so that he couldn’t see anyone else. The greenery around him had long wilted and died from the toxins.
He breathed in, trying to smother the emotions in his chest. There was a Skill he felt burn away, one that wanted to be used, begged to be activated, for him to rage and show his fury. But Berthorn remained steadfast.
Instead, he used different Skills. Many of them, each one reducing that load on his shoulders a little, and by the end, it had lightened enough for him to differentiate what he felt.
Rage. Indignation. Disappointment. Despair. Hurt. Shame.
It felt like he had become a battleground for disparate emotions. Like all of this was simultaneously his own fault and Zyl’s.
The left side of his face burned. The skin had been healed by another dragon, but a thin scar remained, somehow. It was faint, and you wouldn’t see it if you didn’t look closely, but whatever the weapon the beast used on him, it had caused his skin to wilt and wither even once restored.
Now, it was a grey blemish on his face.
Berthorn breathed deep, feeling the rage bubble, and renewed his focus on his Skills. He even bothered to cross his legs and use <Meditation>, centering himself. Gas poured from him, hiding him from the other dragons.
A dozen predictive Skills ran and told him they were too busy picking up the unconscious to care about him right now, but he ignored that message. He knew they would come to hold this against him. All because of that infernal beast-
<Mediation>.
Slowly but surely, second by second, Berthorn worked through the thoughts. He compartmentalised them, recognized and acknowledged what had happened, and put it away in a file in his mind. This was a setback, but not insurmountable. He just had to-
When he thought he was finally getting things back under control, he felt a hand heavily wrapping around his shoulder. The same one Nir had squeezed, and it still hurt as a new set of claws dug into it.
“Mother,” he barely breathed the word as he opened his eyes, to find Trinya staring him down.
The human appearance she usually wore was all but gone, her head adorned with scales and a snout. “Berthorn,” she said, her voice even more coarse now than it had been before. “We need to speak about this.”
The coward child swallowed heavily. This was not a conversation he wished to have.
