The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

The group left the city together and Randidly cast a long look over his shoulder as he passed through the gate and the bristling guards stationed there. More than movement, he cast around for a hint of emotion to give more context to the sudden cessation of hostilities. The lack of any other hints in the air honestly made him more uneasy; it seemed that the image of absence could be used in very sophisticated ways.

When he turned away, Randidly remained nervous and confused.

His gaze wandered up to the barrier around Malloon, which had just finished its slow healing of the hole the energy burst had punched in it. He also noticed, with some distaste, that the unleashed blast had grievously wounded his own weather-modulating Nether Ritual. He hadn’t targeted it in particular, but many of the Scrawled pieces that held it in place had been burnt away by its passage3. Now, the whole thing had begun to list sideways toward collapse. Considering how long it had been active, enough atmospheric pressure had built up that a massive superstorm would sweep through in the aftermath.

Malloon’s barrier would spare them the worst of it, but all the refugees on the ground would be hammered into the dirt. Wind and precipitation might be enough to flush all the people on his skyislands not locked down out, as well.

One more task to see to when he had time.

Randidly glanced sideways at Demetrius, who supported Jotem in their procession. Yggdrasil shifted, its emerald leaves rustling. A wave of life energy from the image wove itself together with Animation Nova to quicken the healing process. He slid a thread of energy into the Patron of the Deep as well, but the half Origin Beast suffered more in the confrontation. Jotem might not have received a direct blow from Westrisser, but he also was so much weaker.

He looked small and deflated as he was carried away, barely conscious of the world around him. Randidly’s jaw tightened.

When they had passed through the entirety of the camp outside Malloon, Randidly gestured slightly to Demetrius so the Nether Herald would take the wounded individual to recover on one of the skyislands.

In the meantime, he needed to talk more with Elhume and his group about what had happened.

The other Patrons showed up quickly, the Patron of the Blooms and the Patron of the Sun taking the Patron of the Deep and attempting to heal him. The Patron of the Abyss and Blades both crackled with tension, while Elhume simply looked down at his hands. The Patron of Feathers looked ill as she simply watched the developments, but Randidly also noticed that the Patron of Truth, Mae Myrna, also seemed strangely guilty.

He filed that information away and turned to Elhume. “What are we missing? I know that Westrisser doesn’t want to show weakness while Nether King Bleak Sky is waiting outside of his city, but considering his earlier attitude, it doesn’t make sense that he would just let us go here after we hurt his city.”

“...considering I have agreed to the bloodline ceremony, perhaps he doesn’t wish for me to back out,” The Patron of Feathers offered. But from her tone, she didn’t believe that to be the case.

Elhume’s eyes widened in shock and he shot her a glance; apparently, he hadn’t known about this development. But very quickly, he shook his head. His shoulders trembled, hinting at a barely controlled racing heart. “I doubt he even considered that. Cruelty is in his blood; you heard him proudly sneer he had been planning to eradicate the Origin Beast line. And shit, he had a chance to do it. That power he wielded- fuck! I hate feeling this weak.”

Randidly observed Elhume for several seconds. The humanoid bit his lips, trying to control his emotions. Of all the lessons he learned in the memory world, the strange one was how reckless Elhume seemed. How human, in this case meaning vulnerable. Randidly could see how fighting against established monsters while also searching for clues about his son had lit a fire underneath him. Yet it was the steadily rising thread of panic he felt in his behavior that made everything click.

This is Elhume at the end of his rope. He has not yet transformed into the villain he would become. Randidly thought. But necessity will soon twist him.

“Why would he be trying to eradicate Origin Beasts, anyway? Isn’t their whole thing supporting ancient races? How did the Origin Beasts earn so much specific enmity?” Randidly asked. If the context for the sudden halt didn’t come from the present, perhaps it was from the past.

The Patron of the Borrowed stepped forward, his nine tails flicking back and forth behind him. “It is an old story. It is true that traditionally, four races ruled over the Nexus. The Winged Serpents, my multi-tailed foxes, Origin Beasts, and Raptor Constructs. There were a multitude of lesser races, which came into power by rising through the Nexus, but they couldn’t rival the foundations already established. Usually, these races were thoroughly suppressed by those that came before. Balance was reached, even after the influx of the Second Wave. However-”

“A few times,” Mae Myrna spoke up, her voice rather dull. “Races would draw the eyes of Origin Beasts. They would do favors for them, earn their particular approval. I don’t think anyone can deny the main flaw of the race is vanity. And with the raw energy they possessed naturally, they would help refine the races into powerful individuals in exchange.”

“Once, an anomaly,” The Patron of the Abyss sounded almost said in his soft whisper. “Many times, balance lost.”

“Alone, it might not have even mattered. At the best of times, the Origin Beasts were few in number and independent,” The Patron of the Borrowed disagreed with a slight incline of the head. “They often feuded with each other, using their energized races as soldiers. Yet they were prideful, too, so when a few of those Origin Beasts started repeatedly winning, they began expecting the other three races to show their servants due respect.”

“So the grudge stemmed from pride?” Randidly hummed to himself.

The Patron of the Deep groaned and sat up. His eyes were exhausted, but he interrupted. “Appreciations, my friends, for setting the stage. But as their heir, I can take my people’s truth from here. The second act began when Westrisser’s father approached one of my great uncles, offering riches and rare materials to use the Origin Beasts' power to refine the bloodline of the Winged Serpents. The results… you may have seen them flittering about. Arms and legs were stripped away, leaving simply the body of a snake with barely functioning wings. They are weak and small. Clever enough to survive in the Nexus, but a shame upon the Winged Serpent line.”

“It gets worse, too,” Elhume grunted. “When Westrisser’s father complained, the Origin Beast shrugged and said the potential of the bloodline must be lacking. Since then, the Westrisser family had tried to shift their moniker to Peregrine Serpents, to disassociate from the relatively numerous Winged Serpents, but to no avail.”

Randidly pictured the Winged Serpents that had come to the Alpha Cosmos through Danger Zones. He remembered fighting against a coalition of enemies led by a Winged Serpent; just showed how far he had come since the early days. He felt almost a fondness for the memory.

“Wounded pride. A vendetta,” Randidly clicked his tongue. “Then Westrisser’s actions today make even less sense. Why let us go at all? Is he truly that afraid of Bleak Sky?”

Which, Randidly supposed, wouldn’t be that confusing. After fighting Bleak Sky himself, Randidly definitely would be wary of that figure. The other Patrons looked uneasily, but no one spoke up.

Eventually, the amorphous Patron of the Abyss spoke up. “For several days, blue bleeds into the Southern horizon.”

The Patron of the Deep groaned and leaned back to the ground. The Patron of Blades's eyes flashed. Elhume smiled grimly. “That explains it then. We knew it was coming, but Fatia Cerulean will soon arrive in Malloon. Westrisser doesn’t need to force the issue now, not when his staunchest ally will soon arrive.”

“We should flee,” The Patron of Blooms muttered. “It was a fool’s idea to entertain the trial of Elhume, when Fatia himself will sit on the tribunal. There is only one way this ends. We shouldn’t offer up Elhume’s head on a silver platter just to claim some sort of legitimacy in their eyes. Not when they’ve tried so hard to strangle us.”

“Should things come to blows, we will not be easily subdued,” The Patron of Blades whispered. His grey eyes promised violence.

“Aren’t we?” The Patron of the Sun countered. He raised his head from the Patron of the Deep’s wounded form and released an exhausted sigh. “We are mighty warriors true, but these are monsters. They have had years to hone their powers, two separate races’ worth of currency and rare materials to strengthen them. We might be right in our beliefs, but if we force this-”

“Enough,” Elhume growled. His eyes were bright and glassy, Randidly noted. “We might not be strong now, but we will be. And you know as well as I do, our plan will not work without the support of a majority of the Aether population.”

“When will we accumulate this mystical, promised strength?” The Patron of the Sun hissed back. “How? Even this damned Nether King could fight you to a standstill. No matter your pride, who you might have been outside of the Nexus, no matter what profound secrets you’ve seen-”

“I’m almost there,” Elhume’s expression hollowed out, leaving his features hungry and desperate. “Soon, as soon as I can get an image of a certain specificity- Pah, let’s not argue about this. You have a point, we still have some time to narrow the gap. But a more pressing issue has emerged. I have heard from the Cult of the Savior: the meeting location has been determined, just beyond the edge into Nether lands. Finally, we will get some answers from them. On our journey, we will spar heavily. We will grow.”

Some of the urgency of the conversation seeped out of the other Patrons, replaced by something closer to concern. The Patron of Blades cleared his throat. “This meeting… I understand you’ve always believed you sensed him still alive, but doesn’t the timing strike you as too convenient? We only have a few weeks until the trial; it will require all that time to get out to the Nether Lands and back. If you miss this grand event, they will send agents after us directly. They will denounce you.”

Elhume shook his head, yet he seemed less sure than stubborn. “This will just be an information exchange. It shouldn’t take much time.”

“But what if they want to move directly after the meeting?” The Patron of Blooms added, wrinkling her nose. “The Cult of the Savior should not be trusted. They may even be trying to cause you to miss the meeting.”

The breezy confidence came back to Elhume as he smiled and looked around at the group. “I’m not trying to say this will be easy. But after the Patron of the Deep heals, we will face that challenge together. We will find a way. We always have.”

Randidly frowned at Elhume’s current plans. He had been a bit worried things would develop like this; events dragging him away from Malloon. Not only did he now have enough PP to finish the next reward Path, but he was also close to several other Skills reaching a Mille. In addition to all that, he wanted to experiment with the repurposing of Nether Rituals to empower his attacks directly. If Randidly had some time to sit and train, he knew he would take another step forward in power.

The only question is whether Elhume’s right about this meeting just being an information one. He took a deep breath through his nose and took a deep pull of the surrounding significance. Very quickly, the answer came back: The threads were uninterested in Elhume’s journey. But weirdly enough-

Randidly glanced sideways at Mae Myrna, who still had a strange expression on her face. This whole time, she hadn’t really interjected at all. More significance pooled over her, and by association the Patron of Feathers, than the other group. The other Patrons exchanged sly grins at Elhume’s confident rallying of the team, but those two stood outside of the shift in attitude.

Randidly pursed his lips.

The Patron of Truth cleared her throat. “There is implicit danger in splitting up the group in any scenario, but… I’m in the middle of a training montage. I won’t be able to head out with you, Elhume, especially if this meeting is really just a time to exchange information. You should go on without me.”

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