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Chapter 152: Destinations
🕑 Added 2023-07-07 15:00:46 +0000 UTCChapter 152: Destinations
Mercury paused, his eyes slowly trailing from the bit of spittle up to the person who’d spat at him. Then he kind of just stared for a minute. It was an older man, wearing a brown shirt, and pants which seemed a little too wide at the waist. His hair was scraggly and his eyes sunken.
“Sorry? What was that for?” Mercury asked, not bothering to hide his ability to speak.
“Oh, so the lil’ kin can open its fecking mouth? Got some blasphemy to spout? Shits like ye should nary be allowed in ‘e city,” the man said, then spat on the ground again.
The mopaaw kind of just stared at him for a while. He felt… surprisingly not too worried about it. The whole being spited had kinda lost its edge after some time. So he just looked at the man for a bit.
“What, bit yer fecking tongue?”
Then, Mercury calmly turned around and walked away. No sense in arguing with an idiot. Everyone was a little high strung after the whole city burnt down, so he was up for forgiving some racism. Somehow, he’d never really heard many positive things about the kin at all.
Distantly, he wondered whether that was because they were reclusive, or because the ones that interacted with civilization were just shitty. Then again, even the ones in a proper tribe, or whatever, had tossed Marsh into a river as a baby, just for having a bit of human in them.
He shook his head at his thoughts, which seemed to provoke the man some more. “Think I’m below ye?!” he cursed, trying to get into Mercury’s way. With that silly decision, he triggered the passive effect of <Itinerant> and promptly fell onto his ass. No harm done, luckily, but Mercury caught a glint of sunlight reflecting off a piece of jewellery the man wore.
It was a ring, woven from three intertwining strands of metal. Even though he only saw it for a moment, Mercury thought it seemed familiar. He couldn’t quite place it though.
Maybe, had he seen Lucia wear the Crown of Order, he would. Maybe, if he’d paid close attention to Nemo’s hands, he would. But he had done neither of those. Lucia rarely wore the crown in private, and he never really attended any of her sermons.
So, for now, it simply seemed familiar. And Mercury left the stunned man sitting on the dusty floor as he moved to help somewhere else.
Most people were still more than happy to have him help them. A few seemed a bit distrustful, but were quickly placated when he did more than what they would have expected him to in terms of clean-up. Which wasn’t very high expectations to surpass, but he did it anyway.
After no more strange events, he went home in the evening, catching a bit of sleep.
The next day went similarly. A few people shot him disgusted looks, one person spat at him, though without cursing this time, leaving Mercury just a little confused.
In the evening, he asked Avery, but received little more than a shrug in return. So the next day, Mercury watched a little more closely.
Many of the people who were giving him looks seemed to wear some form of a ring, made of three interlacing metal bands. Most of them wore it on their fingers, some around their neck. Which was a strange connecting feature. He once slipped one off a hand with <Telekinesis>, using the finer control he now had, and taking a closer look.
The ring was back on before the person noticed, having been busily chatting with some more people cleaning up rubble, but Mercury now had a better picture of it. The ring was woven from copper, tin, and iron. Three strands and one whole.
By evening, he was at Lucia’s doorstep, ready to ask her about it, only to be turned away. There were guards at the church who refused to even let him close. Which was… extremely strange. Did they used to have guards? He didn’t think so, but now there were two burly men in thick plate armor, sending him away.
He caught himself thinking if he could take them, and tried to stifle the thought. Unfortunately, the conclusion came a bit too swiftly: he certainly could. He was quite a cut above an average guard by now, and while he was sure that there were much more powerful people than him out there, he had a skillset that not many would have thought before.
But he didn’t let that intrusive bit of thinking invoke any action. Just the fact that he was turned away alone seemed enough. This smelled just like bishop Nemo’s doing. So the old man had been scheming to make people dislike him?
Mercury had to wonder why for a minute. What was the bishop hoping to achieve with this?
He wondered if the old man maybe just wanted him out of the city, but that seemed unlikely. Did he expect the people to start attacking Mercury? Maybe he underestimated him? No, actually, maybe Nemo was judging him more accurately now.
The mopaaw didn’t exactly feel like kicking the shit out of a bunch of regular people. But then, what should he do?
When the next day came, Mercury decided to make more use of <Veil>. Whenever he caught people glaring at him, he’d activate the Skill, feeling the drain on his mana. Whenever he bottomed out, he’d make a quick escape to a quiet place and refill his reserves. But it made the whole cleanup take much longer for him.
By that point, he even worried if he was making the others slow down if they were so focused on him.
In the end, Mercury made a decision. He had places to be, people to see. He’d said hello to everyone in this city that he had relatively close ties with, spending evenings chatting with Avery and Marcel, as well as visiting the Mages’ Guild occasionally. So, since things were getting a bit annoying, he just decided to call it a day.
He asked Marcel for some help, and wrote a letter, which he asked to be delivered to Lucia and Iris, said goodbye to his godseeker buddies, and set off for Zyl’s estate. That was where the next leg of his journey would carry him.
- - - - - -
Yasashiku found himself strangely on the road again. He’d sent a letter to Alexander, making a simple request: he asked for a steed. With his home broken, he had forged himself a little box. He dubbed it pandora. It held his entire smithy, including the heat of the fire he forged with.
Then he set off. His newest pupil, the one who saved his life, and the one he had held a burial for, that dastardly Mercury, was still alive.
It made his eyes flare brightly with mirth, amusement at his own silly grievances. His home may be gone, but his passion was alight again, and he set off. On a horse gifted by his friend, to find a companion though lost.
Where did Yasashiku go, though? He certainly didn’t know where Mercury was, but he knew where the mopaaw had been. When the two talked, the little guy would always come back to talking about Stormbraver eventually. It was a city that held quite a few of his friends, it seemed, and one he personally had connections to.
That was enough for Yasashiku. If it was a city his student treasured, then he would ply his trade in that city. Perhaps that was the silly attachment of an old man in his sunset years. He’d gotten attached to the little ball of fur far too fast, but what could he do when his protege had shown such determination?
He’d had to match it!
Yasashiku chuckled to himself and calmed a little. He had mastered putting on a stern face over the years, people often showed more respect to the stern.
He remained in his thoughts as the horse ate up the distance below him. Would he truly be able to meet Mercury in Stormbraver? It was a silly question, since the answer was most likely no. But even then, if his pupil treasured a city, then he would wait there. Mercury would hear, and come one day. Perhaps, if they had a good enchanter, he could get messaging paper made.
But all those were thoughts for later days. On the horse’s back, he instead honed his mind. The steed knew where to go, sent by Alexander’s grace, and was far wiser than most of its equine brethren. So, Yasashiku was free to close his eyes.
Focusing on his meditation, he shook out his arms, the one that had been broken and mended a little more than the other. Then, his inner forge was lit ablaze.
Behind his eyelids an ethereal fire burned, sending soft gleams of orange even through the skin. Yasashiku found himself in front of a great flame, one that threatened to swallow him, but he was well forged himself.
That was what this was, after all. Tempering the self.
He breathed in deep. Then sat down in his mind, crossed his legs, resolved himself, tightened his muscles. In here, he wore no thick clothes to protect his skin, simply shorts and the crow’s mask, to protect his dignity.
His remaining skin was exposed, and shown for what it was: pale, and webbed with burn scars.
All flesh on his body suddenly contracted even tighter. His muscles went from bound wire to thick steel walls, rippling underneath the surface. He had removed all compression from them, and clenched them, waiting for the fire to come.
And then it ran through him.
His flesh was seared, melted, and then reformed. His mind was the hammer, his body the artwork. He had heated, tempered, hammered and quenched himself hundreds of times over, perhaps thousands. It was, of course, not always that steel improved through this process, but if it was the self, it could be endlessly tempered.
And as always, Yasashiku came out a more complete person. His muscles wound tighter, his age staved off a little longer. It was one of his core Skills, honed over dozens of years, <Tempered Physique of Eternal Steel>.
With it, he would carry little pandora and ply his trade in Stormbraver. Waiting for the day his pupil returned to him. How long he’d wait, he wondered? Perhaps he would begin a greater search if he hadn’t found Mercury after a season or so.
- - - - - -
Yvette wanted to seek out Mercury, but she was torn. After all, just recently, she’d gotten her freedom. So, the first thing she did was to get absolutely, positively smashed.
She’d hidden away her wings, deactivating the <Celestial Form> she always kept active in paranoia of a Blood Eclipse descending. Then she’d walked into a bar, ordered pretty much everything on the menu, and downed it all.
The rest of the evening was a blur, but she woke up on the floor giggling giddily. It felt so good to finally let go. Not fear for her life, not fear for those around her, to simply let go.
She’d passed out.
Not entered a soft restless sleep. Not watched the moon slowly streak across the sky. Her resistance to sleep had reached absolutely ludicrous levels during all that time, and she finally turned it off.
And slept.
It wasn’t a soft bed, but it didn’t need to be. At her level, the wood was more likely to give than her shoulders. She might’ve kicked someone in the balls for being a prick, too, but that part was bleary at best. Yvette grinned, a bigger smile than she’d given in… what, the last decade or so?
Then she ordered a hearty breakfast, and some more to drink, strolling out the inn in a happy mix of delirium and elation. Her thoughts flowed thick as syrup, never moving too fast. There was on longer a need to.
Yvette had finally gotten a chance to decompress, and used it as fully as she could think of. She drank, bought herself sweets, ate copious amounts of food she rarely got to taste. Cities were such magical places, especially when one didn’t need to be fully present all the time.
And perhaps, some of the drinking was to shove all the places she’d visited into the back of her head. To dampen the memory of all the destruction she might have caused in carelessness.
Slowly, ever so slowly, and enjoying every step of the way, Yvette set off for Stormbraver, to thank the stupid little fricker who’d granted her this freedom. Maybe she’d even apologize.
- - - - - -
Mercury truly loved travelling. Exiting Stormbraver had been hard the first time, and less so the second. This time, he knew he’d be back before too long. He could have ordered a coach to get him to Zyl, but there was no need. His legs carried him faster than a terrezay’s would, and his endurance was higher as well.
Especially <Itinerant> truly showed its value. The ground flitted by beneath him, miles disappearing beneath his feet every day. He enjoyed the rolling hills while they lasted, hunting for food in little burrows. Occasionally, he’d munch grass and flowers, enjoying even their bitter, unappetizing taste, and collecting ones he liked to use as spices.
And so, he travelled on and on. The roads went from well laid, to compressed earth paths, to well-tread ones, to barely small pathways. Throughout it all, Mercury wore a big smile on his face. This was, in part, what he lived for.
He loved the journey. Every time he heard the grass rustle, heard the wind brush through the leaves, heard birds chirping, or insects chittering. He sept in his log at night, layering the inside with more and more Runes again, because he’d neglected the Skill for too long.
Bit by bit, he was working his rijn with it, making sure he could use it as a sharp chisel, and eventually, perhaps as a rune stamp. It sped up the production significantly.
On the roads, he encountered people. Helped repair a cart or two, shared some supplies, traded for a handful of spices. He spent a good chunk of his money on luxuries, saving only a bit. He didn’t need many essentials anymore, after all.
The log made for a good enough place to stay, and <Nutritional Preservation> made it so that he could even eat trees if he so chose. Of course, Mercury tried. They didn’t even taste too bad, with a very earthy, mushroomy taste.
And soon, the days had passed by, and he saw a city in the distance. Houses, sprawling beneath a vast cliff, with a white mansion atop it. He grinned. This would be fun, he hoped.
Only a little later, he’d passed through the city gates as a D rank seeker. He really should get that license updated, but there was time for that later. For now, he made his way through the streets.
Somewhat embarrassed, he stopped by a flower shop, deciding to get a bouquet for Zyl. Luckily, the owner was kind enough to let him buy a bouquet of fire roses for cheap, though Mercury did quite literally spend every last coin he had on him on it, leaving him flat broke.
He smiled. That was fine.
With his heart fluttering slightly, he made his way up the hill. There were steps built into it for the humanoids, but also a gentle slope meant for carriages. Mercury preferred the soft earth to the steps by quite a bit, and chose to go that way instead. Then, finally, he stood in front of the mansion’s doors.
There were no guards. He remembered there had been some last time, but the mansion was eerily quiet now. Mercury could hear his own heartbeat, blood rushing through his ears. Carefully, almost apprehensively, he knocked on the door.
The soft padding of his paws made it difficult, and it really turned more into a rasp against it as his claws slid against the wood. It didn’t leave any scratches, somehow, but the sound still transmitted.
For a few moments, it was quiet on the other side, and Mercury swallowed heavily. He hadn’t really expected everything to be so quiet. Finally, after an eternity, he heard slow, graceful footsteps in the mansion.
Then, the door swung open, and Leon stood there. “Hello,” he said, staring blankly into the air. “Usually we would welcome visitors, but the lord is currently a bit preoccupied. Is your business important?”
“Hey Leon, it’s not that important, really. Should I co-”
“Mercury, is that you?” the butler asked, a tiny quiver sneaking its way into his tone, despite the old butler’s best efforts.
“Sure is,” the mopaaw said, smiling. “It’s good to see you, too.”
- - - - - -
Zyl’d had a lot of time to think on what he wanted to do to Berthorn for all of this. He’d lost a spark. He’d lost a friend, his boyfriend even. He lost so much time, and effort, and he was hurt in more than one way.
Berthorn deserved a lot of bad things for that, in his eyes. He’d acquiesced his demands. And then, Berthorn betrayed all those promises.
The dragon grit his teeth, and felt a shiver come over him, wrapping the blankets tighter. Everything still ached. Things had gone down to a normal fever, but he still needed to keep warm. But he was recuperating.
And he had more and more time spent lucid, time spent thinking about his anger. He was so furious, but at the same time, it all felt so muted. In reality, he just felt like everything hurt. Every bit of his flesh, and his heart, and his mind as well. He felt guilty and shitty about himself, and just couldn’t bring himself to blame his brother.
Sure, Berthorn had given the command, but at the same time, Zyl himself had gotten attached to Mercury. Started liking him, accepted the silly offer. He’d made him feel normal, like a full person, not just a status symbol, or a political power.
Mercury hadn’t for one moment cared about the fact that he ruled a country, or that he lived in a mansion. Nor did-... had the brave little guy cared about his family situation. Just seen him as a person.
And the fact that he was gone was on Zyl’s shoulders. It weighed heavily on his shoulders every day. So what should he do about it? There was nothing to do. Nothing to change. The dead were dead.
Did he want revenge? Not particularly. Would his family finally leave him alone, now that they had what they wanted for so long? No, of course not. They were always greedy. They’d take and take and take until there was nothing left.
He clenched his fist underneath the blankets, feeling the nails dig into his skin. He didn’t draw blood. Didn’t want to stain things Leon spent time on. So, he just grit his teeth, and had his magic roar inside in a silent scream.
Every time he went down the same thoughts. He didn’t want to do anything. Hadn’t wanted for any of this to happen.
And now someone was dead.
Dead!
Maybe, he didn’t need to take revenge, maybe he just needed to keep his family in check, maybe he just needed to-
There was a knock on his door. Leon, by the sound of it. “You have a visitor,” the butler said calmly through the wood.
Zyl breathed deeply once, then twice, then a third time. He unclenched his fist, loosened his jaw, and took a sip of the tea that perpetually stood on his nightstand.
“Yes. Come in,” he said, keeping his voice even and unperturbed. Important people usually wanted him to show weakness, and he would not do them th-
The thought died in his mind when he saw a head covered in soft white and purple fur stepped in. There was a green cloak, emblazoned with silver trim and a faint dragon on its back. The necklace and the small anklet/ring he wore were the same as before.
Zyl looked at Mercury, his mouth wide open. Within moments, he got lost in the shimmers of his fur, the way the little purple stripes seemed to hold the entire firmament within them. But he was able to finally pry himself from them and meet Mercury’s gaze, where he got lost in the mopaaw’s eyes once over.
“Hey Zyl. I’m back.”
And tears began to stream down the dragon’s cheeks.
