Chapter Ninety-Three – Inventory – Part Two

We have confirmation of the individual who is categorized as the UWO's upcoming hero. However there seems to be some misdirection, as they have downgraded their security detail considerably. This could be a ploy to lure us in, or perhaps the subject did not show merit in their metric of measurement. The subject in question appears to be doing a Respec Quest, given the number of people that disappeared with them. How would you like to proceed?

-Classified correspondence between the WSA and WHA-

The taste of mint chocolate is gone, my mouth feels parched, I open my eyes, everyone's looking at me. I'm back on whatever this desert planet is called. My hand squeezes, I feel two small rings in it. I look down, they're part of what I requested, but they aren't Abyss.

"You good?" Cortez asks, looking me up and down.

I nod.

"What was that?" Greymore asks.

"Private audience with a purple."

"Mythren?" Cortez asks.

"Yeah."

"Mythren…" Mira breathes, eyes widening, "You spoke with Mythren, destroyer of worlds, harbinger of…"

"Yeah, probably the same one."

"Darling, whatever you're involved in…" her expression shifts, "I'm loving it."

"Ew," Cortez says under her breath, then louder, "Anyway, what's the verdict, did your plan work?"

"Yes and… no. He didn't want to give me what I loopholed."

"Shit," Greymore sighs, spitting, "Fucker."

"What was the plan?" Tran asks, looking back and forth, "What happened?"

"He tried to pull one over on Mythren," Barlow says, folding his arms and leaning against some of the metal from the ship, "What did you get?"

"I'll get to that," I begin, looking around, "Where's Verantha?"

"Dorliac and Mwangi are comforting her outside, she was going off on Mira," Cortez explains.

It would take a while to explain I caught the beginning of it, so I just shrug, "Mira this is for you." I toss one of the rings to her.

"You… you got me a ring, darling…" she says, her eyes swimming with blue and pink. She shoots a look over at Cortez, like she's just won something.

"No… I mean yeah, but not that kind of ring. It's just in case you hit level twenty and get the same class as before, it won't completely alleviate the deity connection, but it should help a lot. It was one of the things that I bartered from Mythren."

Cortez gives me a nod, there's an undertone expression as she eyes the ring though, but it's fleeting. Maybe I should have asked for a necklace, rings just felt easier.

"You bartered with Mythren," she holds the ring up to the rays of light that dance through the cracks in the hull of the ancient ship, the gemstone is purple, like Mythren's eyes, the band is silver, runes are carved along the band, ones I don't recognize, they look intricate though, "You did all of that because you worried for me?" she bats her eyes, but it's weird, like she's trying to be seductive, but doesn't quite know how, or she's just faking it to piss off Cortez. Either that or where she comes from things are just… different? Tran seems plenty enthused by her change in demeanor though.

"Not just for you, I got one for Verantha as well."

She blinks then straightens, "Well, you could have led with that."

Cortez fights back laughter.

"Yeah, my bad. Anyway," looking at Greymore, "Scouts get back yet?"

"No, not yet, but they should be soon, dusk is on its way."

"Good."

"Did Mythren say what a Marorak was?"

"Nope, tried to barter that info, he essentially told me to kick rocks. He did say that the quest was within one week of walking distance from our origination point. If that helps."

"Eh, a bit. Ruther found some weird parachute type materials near the top, maybe we can make a paraglider or something, the winds are pretty strong and steady. Ruther also said there's a bunch of other random stuff up there. Got him and Clayton sorting it, then we'll probably move to the next ship tomorrow and just keep collecting as we go until we can make something useful." He pauses, looking around at everyone before coughing, "If that's good with you, boss?"

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

"Yeah, sounds like a good plan."

Tran moves closer, crossing his arms, "Okay, so, I have an idea."

Greymore groans.

"Abyss can store anything that you hold above your head right?"

"Yeah."

"What if you stored just the helium above your head and like compounded it over and over until there was enough to fill a blimp or something like that."

I blink at him… can I do something like that? When I get Abyss back, I should test that out. Fucking hell Tran. Is he a genius or an idiot? I can't even tell anymore.

"Well, why don't you do it?" Tran asks smugly, nodding to himself, "Then we can fly over the desert in style."

"Dude, he doesn't have Abyss, still being calibrated, remember?" Barlow says, shaking his head.

"Oh yeah, shit. Never mind," he pauses for a moment, then does that expression like he's had another bright idea, "Okay, what about if we tied Mira's dragon to a sled."

"Permission to slay this foul creature, darling…"

Definitely an idiot.

***

Mwangi and Dorliac are still helping Verantha relax. Mwangi showed her some breathing exercises that don't seem to be helping.

"We should get rid of her… someone should… sorry goddess."

"Relax," Dorliac sighs, "No one is going to hurt you."

"I saw her rip that other scary woman, Fisban's throat out with a flick of her wrist, she's a… sorry goddess… please, goddess."

"Calm down," Mwangi says, clutching her shoulder, "Three short breaths in, one long one out. One, two, three, one, two, three."

She looks like she lives in a state of constant panic these days. I'm sure the connection to her goddess does nothing to help her paranoid tendencies. Walking up to them now, she looks me up and down.

"You're alive?"

"Yeah, obviously."

"What did she do to you?"

"She didn't do anything, that was something else."

She looks around, somehow more frightened, "There are other things… sorry goddess."

"Uh, Verantha, I have something for you. Something I think you'll appreciate."

"What is it?"

"A ring."

"For what?"

"It will help with your problem."

"What problem?" she looks around, "Is someone trying to kill me again?"

"Again?" I ask, then shake my head, "No, your problem with…" I point up toward the sky.

She squints at me, then looks at the ring, then back at me.

"She doesn't think I should wear it, she…" Verantha cringes.

I grab her hand and slide it on, "Verantha I'm ordering you to wear this."

She winces, "Sorry Goddess…" then she blinks, not once, not twice, not even three times, but seven times. Like a cat that just discovered what sweet was, her eyes dilate then fall back. "I… I can't hear her. I… I can barely sense her and the connection."

Verantha spins in a circle, looking up and down, and then her eyes fall on the ring, and then on me.

"Fuck…" she says, soft as a whisper, her face anticipating pain, but none comes, "Bitch… shit… pussy… cunt… oh my gods… I'm… I'm free… I'm actually free."

"Yeah, she can't punish you when you wear that."

"Jimmy…" she says, her green eyes glistening, "Thank… Thank you."

"That's what friends are for."

"Friends…" she says, nodding, "Definitely friends."

"Mythren said your ability to use blessings will probably be impacted a bit. Not sure what that means, but I don't think Ulana will let her not heal us. He said that once you remove the ring…"

"Remove it?" she asks, pulling it close to herself defensively, "Why would I ever take it off?"

"It dampens your ability to use blessings, if one of us is dying…"

"You have your healing back, and Dorliac is an exemplary healer."

"Well, what about when Ulana wants to send messages?"

"That isn't really my problem."

I'm starting to realize why Mythren agreed to it so readily. I'm thinking it may have been so I could shoot myself in my own foot. There's probably a philosophical debate that could be had here, about knowing you can solve someone's problem and choosing not to, just to keep them more useful. Right now, I think I might be regretting getting her that ring. I shake it off. She won't let people die, I've seen her in action before… or was that all a show? Or was that Amaetha making sure she looked good?

"Okay, well, we can cross that bridge when we get there."

"Why cross a bridge? Bridges are dangerous."

"It's an expression."

"Oh. Right."

As I'm walking back toward Greymore, Mwangi leans in, "I hope your conscious didn't just nerf our Cleric."

"Yeah, me too, Sergeant."

He sighs, "Just Mwangi, you're the boss now, young man."

I shake my head, "My rank is still Specialist."

"I put you in for Sergeant, but all promotions are on hold until our task force settles they said."

"Yeah, not letting us promote internally is probably a good thing though, otherwise we'd run up the budget."

He shrugs, "They should pay us extra."

"You're not wrong."

"Did you do your daily lesson with him yet?"

I swallow, "No, he was really moody last time I pulled him out of the well of souls."

"He's the most experienced magic user in your repertoire."

"He's not very helpful."

"Not yet, but in time, he will be, trust me. If he is like you described, he will not sit idle for much longer."

"Roger, sergeant."

"Just Mwangi."

I roll my eyes, moving to the edge of our makeshift camp. After telling Greymore that Verantha might not be as capable as she used to be, he shrugged, saying that he has a couple people with subclasses that can heal anyways. That and he's convinced with the supply of mana stones they all have, Dorliac could patch up everyone three times over. I'm not as convinced. Medical coverage isn't something I want to skimp on. Maybe it's my background, I don't know.

"You off to do that weird consult with spirits shit?" Greymore asks.

"Yeah."

"Have fun, I'll let you know what the scouts found when they come back."

"Sounds good."

I take a moment to find Cortez and tell her that I'm off to summon some spirits. She gives me her usual 'you attract more flies with honey instead of vinegar' talk. She's right though, being an asshole has its moments. Sometimes people like Mythren even respect it, other times, it's very, very dumb. I've been patient with this particular spirit though. I didn't even want to call him. Even with my opinion of him skewed because of what I saw from his memories.

Outside the sun is coming down, creating a beautiful display of colors. It's private out here, which is what this spirit likes. They don't enjoy being a spectacle, hell, they don't enjoy anything. But I need them to teach me magic, specifically their magic. That way when the time comes, I can use it with my new skill Well of Souls, without dusting myself.

Letting out a deep breath, "Come forth from beyond the veil… rise and become my Soul Companion… Adaraic."

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.