The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Jawem kept his face even as the referee announced the two teams competing in the exhibition game. Even though he understood the purpose, he still felt too bone tired to put up with this shit. The tournament wouldn’t start for another three days, but truly, this was quite a bit more of an ‘exhibition’ match. So many teams flocked to Malloon for the tournament that there was no possible way to compare the various minor leagues and claimed records the teams came with to create the tournament bracket.

So non-local and non-already-seeded teams were encouraged to engage in as many exhibitions as possible, to help make the tournament itself more dramatic with a properly constructed bracket. Jawem couldn’t help but note that this also fed information on the strategies of foreign teams to the local established Hobfootie clubs, but supposed that few people planned on challenging these juggernauts anyway.

One particular idiot that planned on challenging the Hobfootie establishment buzzed next to Jawem, impatient to begin the match. Devick hopped from foot to foot, clearly pumped full of energy. She was a cross between a bottled bolt of lightning and a child that needed to pee. In a very positive way, it fed into the rest of the team; all were adequately warmed up for the first time in a long while.

But it was also somewhat aggravating to have her eyes so constantly scanning the stands for an individual who would be very conspicuous.

The referee waved his hands, signaling the teams should take up their positions and wait for his whistle. Opposite them, a group in green from the Southern lands gathered together for a quick last meeting. The Miracles did the same.

“Even if he’s not here, that just shows he has faith in us,” A white-knuckled Devick muttered, as much to herself to the team waiting for a last speech. Her eyes were intensely hungry. “So… or maybe he’s running late- we know how busy he’s been-”

“Miss, if this bastard was personally invited by you to attend and doesn’t have the decency show up,” Tell spat to the side. “Maybe taking his support isn’t such a a good idea. It ain’t right to turn down a lady’s invitation, even if he’s made of Nether. Those sort of fair-weather fools are a dime a dozen in my village.”

At first Jawem thought Devick would spring to the Nether King’s aid, as she always did, and sighed inwardly. But Devick just looked at Tell with bulging eyes. Blood drained from her face. Their Hobfootie opponents put their hands together and unleashed a primal scream. Then they shifted to their positions. Still, their leader seemed frozen.

Sighing, Jawem said. “...you didn’t invite him, did you? He probably doesn’t even know we have a match right now.”

“I can sprint over-” Devick began, but the referee’s whistle and the call of ‘players to their positions’ stopped her dead.

Tell hid a chuckle behind his hand and patted Devick on the shoulder. “Well, this is for the best, right? You wanted to prove we are worth coming to see, right? Think how persuasive its going to be when you invite him to the next game, with a dominant score to back you up.”

“Yea, you’re right. Yea.” Devick straightened and stopped fidgeting. A singularity of purpose came over her, ridding her of all the previous energy leaking out of her body. She turned to look at the team opposite him. Her intense emotional aura once more seeped out into the space around them. Her eyes narrowed with grim purpose. “Let’s get rid of these clowns in our way and go home to celebrate. If we slaughter them… no extra conditioning tonight. Everyone gets the night off.”

The team cheered and rubbed their hands together.

Jawem simply sighed silently and wondered when conditioning after a Hobfootie match became a normal thing.

*****

Randidly walked quickly away from the rest of the group, who naturally proceeded to tasks around the beached skyislands without really noticing the sudden shift in his mood. His thoughts and emotions sloshed around inside of him like half-melted ice cream, useless and sticky. Even through the unfocused mass, one refrain repeated, over and over.

Elhume… is coming here.

When he reached the edge of the skyisland, he pivoted on his heel and almost began simply pacing back across the stone platform. But growling to himself, he turned back and simply leapt up into the sky. Space and being rained on for a bit would hopefully help him clear his head. He kept his eyes away from the floating Pine that dominated a portion of the sky and settled himself deep within the stormy clouds. His default was to begin altering the patterns in the area, driven by nervous energy.

Soon, powerful currents of electricity crackled around the edge of his chosen cloud, threatening a vicious descent without having any target.

At the very least, the heavy rain cooled him off.

Randidly clenched his fists together. He still remembered his first two brushes with Elhume very clearly. First, the briefest touch of his attention had shattered Randidly’s six-fold Class and knocking him unconscious. The second time, a random punch he had sent out in pursuit of the fleeing patrons had taken every ounce of his power to stop.

The same being that had ruled over the Nexus for the past several thousand years approached. With a body so powerful he had been frozen within his own crystallized Aether and punches that could cross space and time.

And now…

Randidly blood burned. His fingers squeezed themselves with even more force until space shuddered around him. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to fight or flee. The Nether King had told Randidly that with the Sonora collapsing, the connection to the outside world had been severed. Even it had only been a inserted memory remnant. Elhume shouldn’t notice their contact.

Yet considering all the other impossible things this deadly foe had accomplished-

Randidly squeezed his eyes shut. His Willpower spread out in humming ripples to calm his emotional sea. This has been the enemy I’ve been aiming at for so long… he isn’t that enemy yet- just a father trying to protect his son. A fool deluded enough to think he could become a god. But to meet him… honestly makes me nervous.

A great sigh passed through his lips. The potent discharge he had twisted together in the storm cloud crashed down and shook the ground. Thunder boomed across the storm-torn skies. Yet already, Randidly felt himself calm. Instead of tensing himself up, admitting his worries did a lot more to relax him.

So long as he admitted his emotions, he could face them directly. Just like he would soon face Elhume.

After he had gathered his breathing, he returned to the grounded sky islands. Already, the significance within the memory began to swirl around the location. Randidly first wondered if it could be these skyislands would alter the fate of the memory and the dream reacted, but upon closer reflection, he realized that this was just another inflection point in the memories. It wouldn’t have happened here, but Elhume and the Patrons would have always approached Malloon and gathered.

Maybe… actually seeing them all together and meeting Elhume will finally provide some answers about what happens in the near future, Randidly’s eyes flashed. Why Elhume’s priorities changed so drastically from saving Pine to killing him… why so many of his Patrons died… and also, how this Cult of the Savior, run by ancient individuals trying to take advantage of the Nexus, vanishes from history.

He calmed himself down enough to help with cleaning out the skyislands of squatters and began making furniture to fill all the rooms. On this subject, the Patron of the Deep had many opinions. At the very least, all of these thoughts helped crowd out any worries Randidly might have.

The longer he listened, the more pity he had for Jotem. Excusing himself with the justification that Malloon’s inspector needed some assistance understanding the finer points of the Engraving, he left the miserable descendant alone with his opinionated ‘uncle’.

His Nether Core began to rev, stabilizing the memory. He had almost forgotten about the approaching group until he sensed them on the horizon. Pausing in his explanation of how the converted energy flowed through the levitation Engraving, he looked up and stared toward the horizon.

Seven powerful individuals were rapidly approaching. Including the Patron of the Deep and the Patron of Feathers, all nine of Elhume’s group was accounted for. Sensing them together, Randidly finally settled some doubts about the crew.

After meeting the individuals from the Cult of the Savior and Westrisser himself, he had started to wonder how these people managed to resist the powerful, established forces of the Nexus. After all, Mae Myrna’s power had been quite interesting, but she wasn’t as overwhelmingly strong as the ruler of Malloon was.

Two truths became obvious, feeling their approach. First, their energies were extremely compatible with each other. To the point that Randidly could find an undercurrent of Nether connecting the individual members of the group. That is probably why he had always seen the Patrons in groups of two or three. When they utilized their images together, there was a multiplicative effect. Randidly felt curiosity stirring; he definitely wished to study the quality.

But also, he felt Elhume’s power, pure and direct. He as a clenched fist, a hand raised against an uncaring sky, a single cocked-back blow about to be thrown. In terms of Aether, he was only a little more developed than his Patrons.

Yet something about the image he sensed shook Randidly to his very core. This was a being who, however briefly and not of his own power, had stood at the Pinnacle. He had helped create an alternate universe. That undefinable something extra suffused his whole aura.

Randidly exhaled. Then he wiped his hands on his robe and walked out to meet Elhume and his group.

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