The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Devick wandered over to the Nether King’s farm, trusting in her luck and the nudging of a kind fate aiming to have her succeed, romantically. She took it as an auspicious sign that she approached and the Nether King sat outside on a raised stand of roots, observing as root anthrompromorphs fought against the Nether Warrior and the three Arakis Beasts that attempted to imprint on him.

Even from a distance, the root beings seemed superior.

She approached meekly, remaining quiet while Nether King Hungry Eye watched the four trainees with such intensity nothing could pull his attention away. A part of Devick wished a giant sinkhole would open beneath the farm and swallow the four, but she recognized this was a ‘Bad Impulse’ which shouldn’t be humored. She had matured from those days.

No matter how tantalizing the possibility was.

However, she also now recognized the quality of attention was the most important aspect in a relationship, second only to the fact that it came from the Nether King himself. After all, if sheer volume of attention would be enough, wouldn’t Devick be positively giddy from Jawem’s stalkerish tendencies? And the cruel martial force of Hungry Eye’s current gaze, while giving her fodder for some of her more… forceful fantasies, was a rather impartial framework.

Perhaps at first, such a baleful glare would send a tingle through her body, but she would hope she could inspire slightly more passion.

Devick dragged a heavy barrel filled with carrots over next to the training grounds and sat on top of it. The barrel did not make for a comfortable seat, but she had been spending an hour or so a day practicing the act of sitting while languid self-possession. Devick did so now, please she had the foresight to prepare for a situation like this. Although it did mean she had nothing to do but pay attention to the fights. She had successfully suppressed her impulse to hope they would all vanish, but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy the look of stunned dumbness when a root avatar stepped sharply forward and knocked the Nether Warrior Bogart near senseless.

She allowed herself one lingering glance up at Nether King Hungry Eye before disciplining herself that being too obvious wasn’t attractive. So she settled on enjoying the methodical way the root avatars ripped through their opponents, guided by the Nether King’s will. The three Arakis Beasts fought well, with enough compact force that Devick was alarmed at the prospect of them actually participating in a Hobfootie match, yet even they couldn’t help but give ground.

He’s controlling four of them at once, each avatar with a different fighting style and capabilities. He makes them just stronger than the opposition, so the training is exhausting without overwhelming them. With the ability like that, the things the Nether King could do with his hands while his mouth is also-

Devick cleared her throat, stalling the flush creeping up through her cheeks. Despite her earlier resolve, her pathetic eyes flicked back once more to Hungry Eye. Then she buckled down and observed the fighting again. She didn’t really know much about sophisticated fighting strategies, but she did understand Hobfootie. Almost all of the Miralces had only grown to their current capabilities based on her advice.

So if she was giving advice, Devick considered, what would she say…?

Congratulations! Your Skill Methodical Recalibration (Ru) has grown to Level 270!

No matter what, she would be useful to him. Even if it seemed impossible, even if he could crush her on a whim.

Congratulations! Your Skill Methodical Recalibration (Ru) has grown to Level 281!

For fifteen minutes, she lost herself in the calculations. One by one, the four duelists collapsed, finally so drained they couldn’t manage the effort or resiting the root avatars. When all of them just lay and panted on the ground, the Nether King turned and looked at Devick. “Congratulations are in order. You are getting toward the end of the tournament, yea? Quarterfinals next.”

“Still with an impressive point differential,” With the invitation, Devick bragged shamelessly. She raised an arm and flexed a bicep. “Going to be the third seed in the next round. I’m not sure if you’ve seen your skyislands, but they’ve become so popular people are pushing for an expansion. Every seat in the stadium is sold out for our matches.”

“I told you not to strain yourself,” The Nether King said drily. “I suppose I should have known that would only cause you to double down.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Devick did her best to hide a shiver of pleasure she felt to be seen through by him.

“So?” The Nether King said, shaking Devick out of her brief reverie. “Obviously you are free to visit me, but you came in looking at me sideways: what do you want?”

“To extend a formal invitation to a social event of some import,” Devick announced. With an exaggerated flourish, she pulled out an elegant (and scented) piece of expensive robin’s egg blue card stock and presented it to him. “Your… identity might be somewhat of a source of tension in Malloon, but I simply cannot imagine a world where you don’t attend.”

The card, obviously, was the overdramatic and viciously ornate invitation to her birthday party in four days. Each letter had been hand painted onto the paper with delicate silver brushes into calligraphy which could be called nothing but art. Almost seventy painters had been hired, to individually draw lively birds taking flight and crimson roses along the edges of the invitation.

Nether King Hungry Eye read the paper. Then he looked at Devick. A frown pinched his brow. He looked down once again. His eyes when he looked back up at Devick suddenly had blatant skepticism. He flipped over the card and checked the back for any further details. Devick’s name gleamed at the top, but the below that, and slightly larger, was the crest of the Cerulean Family, as the hosts of the event.

Hungry Eye sighed. “Is it even your birthday?”

Devick was a lady so the noise that followed was not a snort. How had he known? Did he care so much about her he had researched her-

No, don’t spool out right now. Play it cool, Devick. She pressed her hands over her mouth for a second to keep any follow-up laughter contained. When she lowered her hands, she acted like nothing had happened. “Of course it is. What other reasons would I have a birthday party?”

The Nether King pursed his lips. When he answered, it wasn’t a response to her question. “For the record, killing Larson Cerulean would be a very bad idea. Even I don’t know how I would fare against Fatia Cerulean. Not only is he the most powerful Aether individual, but I haven’t felt even a hint of his image in the city. The significance of his stature lingers in the air, but I haven’t caught any particular notes. Only monstrous control could make it so.”

Devick pressed a hand to her chest. “How dare you. How inauspicious, to speak of the death of my close friend Larson like that! This will be a celebration of friendships old and new.”

“Sure, sure,” The Hungry Eye waved his hand. His eyes wavered between the collapsed bodies on the ground, sticking the longest on Bogart. And Devick could sense a low undercurrent of frustration in his face. “You want me to come, yea? So long as nothing comes up, I’ll be there.”

Almost step two complete. But you cannot simply come, Nether King. You need to arrive in a stupendous mood, giving me a gift. One Larson feels the need to top. She cleared her throat. “If I might offer a suggestion? For the training of Bogart?”

She had taken him by surprise. The Nether King pivoted and looked Devick straight in the eye with his head tilted to the side. Her heart thrilled at the unadulterated attention. Seeing his shift and focus, she realized that the aspect she appreciated the most about Hungry Eye was the way he responded to surprises. He did not deny them or try to avoid facing them but met them directly with an open mind. That attitude was probably how he had survived to become so capable. When the unexpected arrive, the Nether King greeted it kindly.

Her addiction to his attention gave her an almost omnipresent urge to take him by surprise, but even she could admit that repeated surprises like that would not endear her to him.

Flushing, Devick came back to herself. She didn’t remember how long she had been lost in her imaginative indulgences. “Ahem. Well, the look he gets in his eyes when he’s fighting… he’s overwhelmed.”

“Yes,” The Nether King’s expression soured. “He doesn’t respond well to unusual arrangements of tactics.”

“I don’t mean that, I mean… well there’s a half-second pause when the opponent shifts, where Bogart’s eyes widened. You’ve likely noticed…” Devick trailed off. Then she chuckled. “Well, maybe not. His every action looks like he’s pausing to you, doesn’t it?”

Hungry Eye just grunted, so Devick continued. “Anyway, that sort of stalling usually happens when an individual sees a whole chunk of what might happen, without being able to easily intuit what probably will happen. All this to say that the tools are there, Bogart just gets all stuffed up.”

Hungry Eye’s eyebrows shot upward. “You are trying to tell me… Bogart just sees and understands so much he cannot respond? I’ve been drilling the possibilities into his body for weeks without improvement.”

“Maybe it’s better to say that at every moment of decision, Bogart is biting off more than he can chew,” Devick tried. Inwardly, she began to resent Bogart for being the source of disagreement between them but smothered the feeling. She tried to stay focused on the task of earning the Nether King’s goodwill. “How he’s biting… well.”

Both turned and looked at the collapsed demon person.

Almost amused, the Ghosthound huffed out a breath. “It’s a good idea, I’ll try a few things to try and figure out if it really is just a mental problem. I appreciate it, Devick. If the trick works, I’ll see what I can do for birthday gifts.”

Step two, complete. Humming to herself, Devick skipped back toward Malloon.

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