《Catgirl System [Monster Evolution LitRPG]》 1. Color Bomb I woke up in a kaleidoscope. Brilliant blue air and milky clouds swept across the sky. The tall grass was fresh spring-green, but when sunlight hit it, it sparkled peach-pink. Flowers peeked out from between the blades, their petals fuzzy and ruby-red. Strange flowers¡­strange colors¡­ Wait. I could see colors? I was a tabby cat in a rainbow world. For those who don¡¯t know, cats are basically colorblind. We can kind of see blue, green, and yellow¡­but pink and red were things I wasn¡¯t even supposed to recognize. And wasn¡¯t I supposed to be an old cat? Wasn¡¯t my vision supposed to be blurry? Why could I tell apart every single blade of grass? And¡ªwhy was I still alive? I raised my head, yawned, and began to feel an odd, dizzy sensation. It was like my mind itself was cloudy! And my nose¡ª ¡®Choo. Oh, I guessed that one was just a sneeze. The petals of a ruby flower drifted out of my nose and into the clean air, that sea of blue. I rolled onto my feet. Still too cautious to stand, I crouched. And I took it all in. Then a weird box popped into my vision. Not like a cardboard box, but a gray box that seemed as thin as paper. It scared me so bad that I leaped in the air and landed on my back. Lucky the grass and dirt was so springy¡­
Welcome to Vencia!
You¡¯ve acquired Traits. Traits are special abilities that are usually unconnected to your SP (Skill Points). Many are automatic or always active. Some have unlimited uses while others have a cooldown period. Morph (Stage 1/5): Can become a nekomata (also known as a ¡°catgirl¡±) at will. Very limited activation period. Human Language (Stage 1/2): Can begin to comprehend, and think in, the human languages used around you. Perfect Human Vision: Can see a spectrum of color equivalent to the visual range of most humans.
A-ah¡­this was a bit much¡­ If this, uh, floating box that followed my eyes everywhere was telling the truth, then was I seeing human colors? And had I been thinking human words this entire time? Huh¡­in hindsight, I¡¯d never known the phrase ¡°in hindsight¡± before¡­
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
You¡¯ve lived a long and successful life on Earth, Taipha.
¡°Goddess?¡± This box? Well, she did know my name¡­the name I¡¯d never told anyone because I was a cat¡­
Admittedly, you had a pretty bad ending. This time, don¡¯t eat the bright-blue butterflies. They¡¯re the poisonous ones.
Urgh¡­okay, I remembered now. A fuzzy memory of my life in the city. (My first life?) I¡¯d seen this strange, almost luminous bug flying through the alley, and I just had to pounce on it. And then I ate it. Was that so silly of me, Sierra?
To help you get used to your new life as a cat-human hybrid, I haven¡¯t given you all your Skills and Traits at once. Don¡¯t want to give you too many heart attacks, ha ha!
I, uh¡­I guessed that made sense.
Tip: Access your Stat Screen at any time by thinking, ¡°Stats.¡±
Huh¡­ Look, I was not at all used to being told what to do. Not even by a goddess. Especially not by a goddess! If it weren¡¯t for the fact that I was in a bizarro world and this box would literally not leave my face, I wouldn¡¯t even have been reading it right now! I hadn¡¯t been just some housecat in my past life. I was feral. I grew up fending for myself, saving myself from storms. Other cats were nothing to me. Worse than nothing: they were rivals, all of us fighting over the scraps that humans dropped. And humans were¡­ Let¡¯s not get into that. So when the magical box in my vision told me to think ¡°Stats,¡± I told myself, Don¡¯t think ¡°Stats.¡±
You stubborn cat. I know how you work.
Darnit. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Stats
Taipha Gray Tabby
Lv. 1 EXP: 0% (0/150)
HP 100% (10/10)
SP 100% (10/10)
ATK 1
INT 1
DEF 1
WIS 1
SPD 1
Traits
Morph (Stage 1/5)
Human Language (Stage 1/2)
Perfect Human Vision
Skills
Swipe
Woah, so much information. So many abbreviations! This would definitely come in handy, considering I had no context for these numbers and whether they were good or bad!
Ha-ha. Next time you see something in this System that confuses you, keep things simple and just think, ¡°Huh?¡±
Huh? ¡­No, I didn¡¯t mean¡­
Stats are percentages and numbers representing your aptitudes (but I bet even you already knew that). As a Level 1 Gray Tabby, you are the weakest possible cat at the lowest possible Level. You¡¯re still stronger than a Level 1 squirrel, though.
The mention of food made my hyperactive brain change tracks, and I stood up in the plush grass and stretched, imagining the squirrely kill already. I was currently in a little clearing surrounded by a forest whose oak trees shone green and plum-purple. Everything was tranquil but alive. I could keenly feel the life playing on my whiskers¡ªthat was one talent I knew I hadn¡¯t lost. Nice that Sierra had the good sense to put me in a place where I could eat no problem.
Of course, most adult squirrels are at least Level 8¡­
I swatted the box and it knew to get out of my face. What¡¯d Sierra say this place was? A forest called Vencia? Frankly, it looked heavenly. Now that I had a moment of boxless peace, and now that I knew I was relatively safe, I could just stand and enjoy the fact that I was alive. The trees stretched sky-high, leaves rustling in the gentle breeze. I heard the chittering of strange insects in the bark, in the dirt, and it sounded like music to me. A bird called. A meal. I hadn¡¯t had anything besides pigeons and sparrows in ages. Everything I¡¯d just read that¡¯d been weird and abstract and alien left my mind. The stuff about being half-human and having a Level and Talents and Skills, and being dead-ish. Speaking of mortality, now that my stomach was rumbling, it was definitely time to go hunt¡­right? I looked down at my legs. I¡¯d been a yellow-orange tabby in my past life, but now I was striped white and light gray. So if the color of my fur had changed along with my power, did that mean orange was supposed to be a stronger color than gray? What sense did that make? In any case, if I was the weakest possible cat at the lowest possible Level, how was I supposed to survive? ¡­ ........ ¡­How was I supposed to survive ¡°huh.¡±
Oh, hey, Taipha! It¡¯s you again!
Now it was my turn to laugh sarcastically. Or I would¡¯ve, if cats could laugh.
Well, you survive by gaining Experience Points, which will bring you to higher Levels and unlock Evolutions into stronger cats. You can get some easy Experience Points by killing insects. The more Experience, the more Levels. But don¡¯t eat any insects that are brightly colored. That¡¯s how they tell others, ¡°Hey, I¡¯m poisonous.¡± It¡¯s a basic fact of life that pretty much everyone knows, innately, but I guess not you.
I ATE IT BECAUSE I WAS CURIOUS!
Which is what babies do.
2. Taiphas First Battle I had a question. A question I wasn¡¯t going to ask Sierra the god-box-ess, because I was afraid to learn the answer. If I was thinking in human language, and my Stats said I could think in ¡°the languages used around me,¡± did that mean there were humans in these woods? I hoped not. I hoped I wouldn¡¯t find any more of those weird, cruel, unapproachable, complicated humans. I hoped I could go on forever just hunting the beetles crawling millimeters from my face. I was standing incredibly close to one of those tall oak trees, watching little lines of beetles scurry in and out of the bark gaps. They looked so familiar. I couldn¡¯t tell if they were any different from beetles on Earth. Were they shining purplish-black because they were Vencian, or because they, like me, were some weird magical species? ¡ªwait, why did I care? They were lunch. I thumped my paw against one, slamming it into the bark. Then I let it fall to the grass, expecting it to be more like a smudge than a bug. But it fell totally intact. My paw hadn¡¯t damaged it at all! I took a step back and hissed. The beetle hopped upright, flicked its shell open, and buzzed its wings, making its own hiss. Then it glowed for an instant. A white fire erupted from the beetle¡­and left as soon as it came. I¡¯d seen lightning bugs, but they didn¡¯t operate like this. Maybe because lightning bugs didn¡¯t have Skills. Which gave me a frightening thought: had the beetle just made itself mystically, magically stronger? Like, made itself even harder to kill? If it just raised its Defense even higher, I probably had no chance¡­even though it was so puny. Hold on! I was in the body of a new, freshly minted cat¡ªmeaning I had my old sharp claws again. I came forward and swatted the beetle, aiming for the head. It turned, making me miss and hit its shell. My claws should¡¯ve cut into its carapace, but instead, I left no mark. This was so irritating! But if I could get it on its back and hit its belly, maybe I¡¯d have an easier time? ¡­No, no, wait. There was a far simpler way to do this. The problem was that I¡¯d been thinking like a cat: crafty, agile, always analyzing the environment. I should¡¯ve been thinking like a human. Humans thought the best defense was a good offense. Their attacks, when they bothered making them, were blunt as bricks. Humans could also read. Stats.
Stats
Taipha Gray Tabby
Lv. 1 EXP: 0% (0/150)
HP 100% (10/10)
SP 100% (10/10)
ATK 1
INT 1
DEF 1
WIS 1
SPD 1
Traits
Morph (Stage 1/5)
Human Language (Stage 1/2)
Perfect Human Vision
Skills
Swipe
So I could Swipe, huh?
Swipe: Attack with powered-up claws.
But just earlier I¡¯d attacked with my claws and nothing power-up-like happened! What sense did that make, huh?!
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
You¡¯re a needy one, aren¡¯t you, Taipha? It¡¯s okay. You can admit it. We¡¯re in the safety of your mind, after all.
She was giving me a headache. She was my headache.
I¡¯m serious! It¡¯s alright to still be learning at this stage! Anyway¡­you need to be thinking about the Skill to use it. Try shouting out the name!
¡°Meow!¡±
Not like that! In your mind, silly!
UGH! Swipe! A white power glow came over my claws! I couldn¡¯t help but lift my one glowing paw to my eyes and stare at the odd flame. Trails of steam rose into my face and brushed past. The weirdest part was, it didn¡¯t feel like anything except¡­happiness. That must¡¯ve been what sheer power was: euphoria. Right ahead was the beetle, all closed up in its shell. Thinking it was safe. With one paw flaring, I pounced. Both my weapon and my focus converged on the same shiny black dot. This time, my claws pierced clean through.
Victory!
EXP: 2% (3/150)
I didn¡¯t even notice the latest pop-up. I just went straight to devouring the beetle. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Back on Earth, tiny insects were the saddest kill. They were practically flavorless, and it took so many of them to even come close to filling a cat up. But on Vencia? (Or was it ¡°in Vencia¡±?) Insects were turning out to be¡­well, basically the same. Still, I felt so giddy. This was my first-ever win! Something to celebrate! *** Okay, this sucked. Sure, I won, but that was against a single beetle. Sure, there were lots of beetles on this tree alone, but killing more of them was exhausting. When I used Swipe¡ªonly once, mind you¡ªit took away a huge chunk of my SP. By the time I¡¯d slapped down and torn up five beetles, here¡¯s what my Stats looked like:
EXP: 8% (12/150)
HP 100% (10/10)
SP 50% (5/10)
And I felt every bit of that, um, series of digits abstractly-yet-concretely representing my inner state. That euphoric fire must¡¯ve been coming from the same mysterious place as these numbers, whether inside my body, my mind, my soul¡­or some galactic outpost. And the fire was dissipating. After eating those five beetles, I felt no closer to fullness. I didn¡¯t feel any stronger, either¡ªI was still so far from a Level-Up. I just felt like balling up in front of that oak tree and crying. Weird thing to feel, considering I wasn¡¯t a human. ¡­Traits?
Traits
Morph (Stage 1/5) Human Language (Stage 1/2) Perfect Human Vision
Stage 1 Morph, I repeated to myself. Not in the use-stuff way. In the regular thinking way. There was something scary about that phrase. Scratch that, this was all scary. There were good reasons why I didn¡¯t want to acknowledge my new humanity¡­hybrid-humanity¡­whatever it was. I refused to investigate it. But maybe I had to. Maybe humanity meant power.
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
There are no Skills, Traits, or Stat boosts associated with Morph. The only thing Morphing is good for is interacting with other humans. Becoming a part of human societies.
Why would I want that?
Why would any soul want to be born as a cat? Or a beetle? Or anything? It¡¯s not up to you, Taipha.
I whimpered.
But I¡¯m a benevolent goddess, and I think that being human will make you, along with the rest of the universe, happy. And the more you prance and play in the Vencian Wood, discovering the treasures and dangers it has in store, the more you¡¯ll see what I mean.
¡­Huh? The box didn¡¯t respond. I just went huh, though. What was going on? I added, Come back, Sierra. But she didn¡¯t come back. The sky was changing color. It was going from blue to yellow. Soon it would be all the colors of a nectarine. The night would be cold, and I would be hungry. No¡­this wasn¡¯t like me at all. Wasn¡¯t I supposed to be tough? Maybe I was a super-weak Gray Tabby now, but I¡¯d torn up dogs in my day. I was a survivor! And when the going gets tough, the tough get going! So I stood up, shook myself out, took a stretch, and¡­ Was hit by a bolt of inspiration. See, there were beetles crawling all over this tree. Beetles that didn¡¯t seem to want to attack me in a swarm. Beetles that seemed content to go on their merry way, even when I, a predator, was staring right at them. Beetles that, if knocked down in a heap, would probably not gang up on me. Beetles that would be ripe for the picking. That I could kill with a single attack! Leaning one leg against the tree, I used another Swipe, bringing my SP down to 0. My gut felt even emptier, but my mind thrilled. Actually, I didn¡¯t follow my plan. I made it even simpler: I just clawed through the beetles as they walked along the tree. And I kept clawing. My Swipe lasted several seconds. I counted¡­each glow lasted a full fifteen. I clawed like my life depended on it. (Which it kind of did!) By the end, enough beetles had fallen to make an entire pile, all their shells clacking against each other. So many I couldn¡¯t count them. Now my hind legs ached a little. They weren¡¯t meant to bear my entire weight for more than a moment. As the last flames trailed from my claw-tips, I panted, staring at that pile of prey. I looked up to see the other beetles, the lucky living ones, crawling deeper into the bark. Pride welled up in me. I¡¯d get the rest another day.
Level Up!
Lv. 1 ¡ú Lv. 2
EXP: 5% (16/300)
HP 100% (20/20)
SP 100% (20/20)
ATK 3 (+1!)
INT 3 (+1!)
DEF 2
WIS 2
SPD 2
Tip: You receive Bonuses to your Stat gains when you use, train, or improve a certain Stat. For example, running a race has a chance of raising your Speed.
In my excitement, I swatted the box away without fully reading the tip, but I¡¯d seen enough to know that my situation just went from good to great. Maybe I wouldn¡¯t even need to use Swipe on beetles anymore! And I had all my SP back, apparently thanks to the Level-Up¡­that was such a relief. Best of all, I could eat well! ¡­Okay, twenty minutes later, I was still chomping through the tough shells of those beetles, struggling to get at their meat. And I was beginning to feel full, but also¡­nauseated. I looked up at the tree. I jammed my claws into the bark. They hardly dug in. Sure did hurt, though.
HP 90% (18/20)
Maybe there was another tree I could try. ¡­Come on, Taipha. What¡¯s gonna be on those trees? More beetles. More nauseating beetles. To eat something more wholesome, I was probably going to have to climb a tree. To find those birds I heard earlier. To find squirrels. Squirrels¡­most of whom were Level 8 or higher, according to Sierra¡­ Oh goddess. I was ready to sit and sulk again.
Evolution Available!
Would you like to Evolve now? (Yes / No)
¡­Whuh? I blinked in surprise. But the notification wasn¡¯t a dream. It stayed there, obscuring my vision¡­with a promise. Who the heck would want to Evolve later? I pawed the hovering ¡°yes.¡± Then a glow suffused and swept over my body, rebuilding every inch of me. 3. Night of the Squirrel Evening. On Earth, this would¡¯ve been the time when the lights of the city blinked on. Cars would switch on their white headlights, bright enough to blind. And they never stopped racing past. Here, though, things were slower. It wasn¡¯t that the forest ever stopped. It was just more deliberate. ¡­Except for stuff like owls, I guessed. I¡¯d seen an owl in flight once. It was pretty fast. And terrifying. Luckily, now I could match their terror. I was getting stronger faster than my Earth self could¡¯ve ever imagined. Which was ironic, since I now looked about like my old self. When the dazzling glow of my Evolution cleared, I had my yellow-orange fur again.
Currently No Branching Paths Available. Auto-Evolving¡­ Evolution Complete!
Orange Tabby Style: Prance and Play
Known for their impetuous nature and delightful antics, these cats are nonetheless not to be underestimated. What they lack in smarts, they make up for in sheer brawn and reflexes.
Stats
Taipha Orange Tabby
Lv. 2 EXP: 5% (16/300)
HP 95% (38/40)
SP 100% (30/30)
ATK 6
INT 3
DEF 4
WIS 2
SPD 4
Traits
Morph (Stage 1/5)
Human Language (Stage 1/2)
Perfect Human Vision
Skills
Swipe
Nice¡­my Attack Stat felt so high now¡­ As I sat underneath a sea-blue oak tree, moving nothing but my whipping tail, I wondered about how strong I was. Level 2 in my Gray Tabby form hadn¡¯t felt much different from Level 1. Maybe a mathematician would say, ¡°Oh, it doubled everything, that¡¯s amazing,¡± but having 2s pretty much across the board had felt so¡­dinky. Evolution, on the other hand, had taken my Attack Stat from 3 to 6, doubled my Defense and Speed, and even¡ª Oh yeah¡­my Intelligence and Wisdom were about the same, weren¡¯t they. Well, inevitably I¡¯d keep going up and up. The changes from 1 to 2 were bound to not be as impressive as 3 to 4, or 6 to 7 to¡­ 8. The magic number. According to that goddess, the Level of most squirrels. Which were supposed to be pretty easy prey? I mean, they were on Earth, so it was only logical? My stomach gave a slow rumble. My call to adventure. I stood up, and my ears pricked at the sound of a low coo from a bird far away. Leaves rustled. If a squirrel was Level 8, what was a robin here, Level 15? Ugh, it was making me sick just thinking about it. But then I knocked some sense into myself. What are you talking about, Taipha? You¡¯ve always been a loner-survivor! You made it through harsh winters, betrayals, and cruel teenagers all on your own! If anything, I told myself, you have an advantage: your current body is brand-new! If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. She-slash-me was so right. I was a younger me. Smaller, sure, but also sleek. While poking and licking at my fur, I realized that I did have some muscle mass. This could be fun. I could do a decent run and pounce with this body¡­ Plus, I had my brain! My crafty brain! Wait, that was still a big weakness. The four-cornered goddess was right: I had never been that smart. Instead of going back to eating my safe garbage flakes, in the end I had eaten¡­my own demise. And that wasn¡¯t quite an isolated incident. On the other hand, I had a bunch of weird human knowledge now. Had it come with the Human Language trait, or the Morph one? I wasn¡¯t sure, but I was trying hard not to think about any of it. The implications of being part-human or whatever both gave me a headache and brought back hazy memories of tail-yanking children. But maybe it was a boon. Maybe as my Intelligence Stat grew, so would my ability to concoct plans like humans? I could plot, I could scheme, I could build skyscrapers¡­? Was that how that Stat worked? Huh?
Error: Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata is unavailable. Please leave a message.
Wh-what the¡­ My stomach rumbled again, and I moved on, making my decision. I would strategize my way into my next kill. *** An owl¡¯s cry echoed across the Vencian Wood. There had been forests on the fringes of the city where I¡¯d lived, but I¡¯d always stayed out whenever I had the choice. The dangers were different and, to me, unpredictable. Namely at night. In the light of day, I might¡¯ve been tempted to romp across the grass and fallen twigs. Right now, though, I was slow and stoic. I remembered that I was a hunter. I forgot how to play. ¡­Uh, that¡¯s not true. I was fighting my instinct to play with and poke at many, many things I passed by. Like that fallen maple leaf over there. It was not only crisp¡ªand probably green, though my night vision didn¡¯t bring out the color too well¡ªbut strangely thick. Good to bat around? Chewy? A certain scent on the air stopped this train of thought. I¡¯d noticed that upon coming to the Vencian Wood¡ªor getting dropped in?¡ªall of my senses had either been preserved or enhanced. Except for smell. Which sucked, because that was obviously the best one! Smell was so useful for figuring out whether food was okay to eat, or where it even was. At least I could get enough information to smell the approximate identity of creatures standing¡­oh, about two meters away. Ugh. So ¡°impressive.¡± Standing before me was another mighty oak. I looked up to see a hollow, impenetrably dark to human eyes but full of life to mine. From this angle not too far below, I could see the slightest hint of fur rising and falling. My nose told me that this rodent was a species I hadn¡¯t quite run into before. Since I was likely on another planet, that didn¡¯t surprise me, and it was good to be able to pick up information as specific as ¡°rodent,¡± but it was too bad that I couldn¡¯t even determine whether this was a squirrel or not. I took a very slow seat, careful not to make any noise. Yet. What would humans do? They wouldn¡¯t hunt the food, they¡¯d make the food hunt them¡ªthey¡¯d use lures, they¡¯d use traps! They were the smartest! They were the weakest!! I was stalling because the idea of setting a trap still had me completely stumped. I mean, for one thing, I didn¡¯t have hands, so I couldn¡¯t make cages too easily. I did have Morph, so, using my advanced ninety-nine-percent-cat, one-percent-human brain and the infallible memory it contained, I determined that such a power could possibly Morph my paws into hands. Right? Yeah. But that would look weird and give me nightmares. And I didn¡¯t wanna call up Sierra because then Sierra would laugh at me. ¡­Okay I would call up Sierra. What¡¯s a good trap to use, huh?
Error: Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata is unavailable. Please leave a message.
NO I¡¯m not leaving a message! Fine! I¡¯d just keep this simple by¡­throwing a rock or something. Wait, still didn¡¯t have hands. Okay, I¡¯d do the next best thing. I located a rock that was sorta big, but not too big to fit in my mouth. Then I snake-jawed my mouth around it, picked it up, walked over to the roots of the tree, and dropped it on a big one.
HP 90% (36/40)
Oh, come on, that rock in my mouth hurt my jaw enough to take off HP?! Whatever! I dashed away as soon as the rock made landfall. A surprisingly deep note echoed from the impact of rock on surprisingly hollow root. Ducking behind a bush, keeping the oak tree in view, I waited. A squirrel¡¯s head sleepily poked out from the hollow. This could be it. If that squirrel came wandering out, I could sprint out with my youthful, hopefully-faster-than-ever, Speed-Stat-enhanced legs. With surprise on my side, maybe I could take them before they could take me. They were crawling! The squirrel was crawling down! I got tunnel vision. Focusing on nothing but my prey, I charged. You might be thinking I started running a little too early, at a point when the squirrel was still easing their way down the bark. I say my charge was too late¡ªbecause the moment I jumped, I felt just how nimble my new self was. In the heat of that exuberant moment, I was only thinking, ¡°Weak cat, low Level¡±? I don¡¯t think so. I was jumping ever so slightly higher than an Earth cat in their prime. That meant I was a cut, even two, above myself before my death. I nearly overshot my target. With a vicious landing, I latched onto the squirrel¡¯s side and sent us both tumbling into a patch of dirt. Now the squirrel was howling. Good! They were more horrified than vicious. Even if this state wasn¡¯t going to last much longer¡ªeven if the squirrel was about to realize how low my Level was¡ªI still needed to exploit this. And I was glad to. Swipe! My claws lashed across their face, then their chest. Having only one paw to scratch with wasn¡¯t an issue¡ªI needed the other one to pin the squirrel down. But after three successful, blazing-white hits with Swipe, I was literally overthrown. Like a coil released, the squirrel showed their true power and, with a jump up toward my face, tossed me off. The back of my head banged into a tree trunk.
HP 75% (30/40)
SP 67% (20/30)
No real problem¡ªmy mind, high on a mix of adrenaline and Swipe-given power, convinced my body that all it needed to win was Speed. All that really mattered was keeping up with the squirrel¡ªand if they¡¯d called reinforcements during my first attack, I just had to end them before their friends got here. So naturally, I got right back up again and, with a snarl, ran in for more. My first Swipe was still burning. It swung for the squirrel¡¯s side, but by now the squirrel was on their feet. And ready. They rolled swiftly out of my paw¡¯s path and landed right on their feet again. A white glow sparkled off their front teeth¡ªand tore into my other front paw.
HP 30% (12/40)
Holy¡ª! For the first time since my arrival, I saw my own blood. And in the same instant, it hit me that I hadn¡¯t seen the squirrel¡¯s. I had to run. Put that Speed to a different purpose. The chatter of several more squirrels met my ears. They were crawling down from the same tree hollow¡ªand from other trees, evidently here to help their own. If they had the same power as that first squirrel¡¯s two little glowing front teeth, I was done for. Run run run run run. 4. The Hideaway Running already! I couldn¡¯t even spend two hours in a new world without getting chased by horrible, monstrous, all-powerful¡­ Squirrels. Yes, not one, but two. Two squirrels chasing one cat. It was the saddest thing I¡¯d ever seen, let alone experienced. It was evening. The grass that¡¯d looked so welcoming earlier now looked like rows of teeth. It lashed my legs as I sped through the undergrowth and darted around tree roots.
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 3% (1/30)
What the?! Oh, great, now I couldn¡¯t see! Thanks, box! I knew another big fat oak was coming up, but only because I¡¯d seen it coming before the notification. I wanted so badly to ram my head¡ªalong with the box¡ªup against it. Skipping to the side, I hit a different, thinner tree. Papery, like a birch, only colored a bizarre black with orange stripes. This was no time to marvel at the unique flora. This was the time to shriek as a squirrel caught up to me and bit my tail.
HP 18% (7/40)
I bounded away. I kept bounding, hoping that in the end I would be faster than these squirrels. The HP box blipped away and I saw that the trees ahead weren¡¯t as closely packed together. Another clearing must¡¯ve been coming! I laid out the logic in my head: Trees = good for squirrels. No trees = bad for squirrels. I¡¯ll have the advantage?! Didn¡¯t really make sense, since the creatures were definitely not climbing on any trees right now, but what could I do? I was panicking. I leaped into the open evening air¡ªand froze. I was one step away from the edge of a cliff. Of course the trees had cleared. There wasn¡¯t any space for them to grow on this little triangle of grass. One of the squirrels popped out from the foliage. Then something twinkled in the branches of the closest birch. It was the glinting eye of the second one. They had to know they had me cornered. I didn¡¯t want to risk my second life, and this cliff was looking like the safer option. Even though it was high. High enough to break legs and spines. It almost didn¡¯t matter whether I was going to survive this intact¡ªI had no choice. I had to let myself jump. ¡­Also, in case you¡¯re forgetting, I was a cat. Duh I was going to jump off the cliff. I¡¯d just land on my feet. The first moments of leaping are always dizzying. That¡¯s why young birds have so much trouble flying the first time. Or why humans have trouble¡­cliff jumping. Well, here goes nothing. I pivoted myself away from the rocks and roots, making sure I¡¯d hit as much grass and dirt as possible. And I succeeded. My legs buckled a bit upon landing, feeling the full shock, even the hard stone deep underneath the dirt. And then I got over it. I straightened myself, blinked out that stunned shocked feeling, and ran on. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. I had to keep going, and at full speed. Those squirrels didn¡¯t have to just stand there, and they didn¡¯t have to jump just to reach me. If they were determined, either they¡¯d discover some squirrel-sized footholds in the cliffside or they¡¯d simply backtrack and find a way around it. They knew their way around this forest so much better than me. My Health was¡­
HP 13% (5/40)
A little lower thanks to the fall, but nothing serious. I was alright. As I hurtled through the woods, I began to hear more animals. Like the cries of owls, unmistakable. As a city cat, I¡¯d never been attacked by owls. But I¡¯d heard them. I¡¯d seen them, large ones that could carry a cat in their claws. Now I was in the wild, and no place was safe here. And now it was truly dark. Colors faded and my familiar night vision took over. Everything became just a tiny bit clearer, sharper. I felt more like my old self again, and it was¡ª Scary. I thought it¡¯d be a relief. That feeling this way would make me feel more secure, more capable of dealing with the wilderness. But I¡¯d always been a survivor. And survival is fear, isn¡¯t it? The trees parted again. Not to show me a clearing or a cliff again, but a house. A big, two-story house made of logs. Dim orange light glowed from one of the windows, searing yellow light from another. Proof of troublesome, tail-yanking humans. And yet I found myself running straight toward it, toward the lesser evil. Spotting a gap between the bottom of the cabin and the grass, I squeezed myself underneath it. I had to hide because I¡¯d heard an owl getting closer, swooping my way. If it was a big one, it wouldn¡¯t be able to squeeze in. And if it was small? I¡¯d just have to try and take it on. I crouched in the middle of heaping, decaying leaves. I could sleep here, if I had a death wish. If I wanted rats and snakes and anything else that might be hidden to eat me in the night. Sadly, I couldn¡¯t detect this prey more than broadly. Not with any of my senses, and not with my intuition either. This forest was too new, and my sense of smell was the only thing that didn¡¯t feel quite so keen in the¡ªwhat was it called? ¡ªthe Vencian Wood. What I heard was rustling in the mulch under my feet. What I smelled was fresh fur and scales. Death was everywhere. ¡­Wait, hold on, was that milk? My nose quivered, as if tickled by the scent. I tried something: milk huh.
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
That¡¯s not really how this works, but okay. It is milk. Cow¡¯s milk, specifically.
Well, this was a surprise. And what took her so long?
Did you know that cats shouldn¡¯t have too much cow¡¯s milk? It¡¯s not good for them. Same with rabbits and carrots, and monkeys and bananas.
¡­Well, gee, what stupendous information Sierra had given me. Was I gonna die if I drank a cup of milk? Was I just gonna die on the spot? Huh?
I¡¯m thinking long-term here.
Say I drank one bowl of milk every single day. How many years would I lose?
Depends on whether you drink the milk as a cat or as a human.
I-I just¡­what? Okay, time for Sierra to go. I swatted her away¡ªor her box, or what-have-you¡ªstill wasn¡¯t sure if she had an actual body or not¡ªand became newly determined to find this milk, sneak it away from whatever humans had set it out, and drink it¡­ ¡­Fine, that would be a bad plan. But I definitely wanted to see the milk. See who or what had set it out. Was it a crafty cat hunter, trying to lure me in the way humans on Earth caught rats with cheese? Or could it have been a run-of-the-mill milquetoast Vencian human feeding their own pet cat? Or magical cat-familiar? Maybe it¡­wasn¡¯t a trap¡­ Maybe this log cabin was actually safe? At any rate, now that the owl¡¯s cries had disappeared and the rustling all around me was intensifying, it seemed like a better idea to get out¡ªbut still not wise to enter the cabin afterward. Leaves crackled as I pulled myself out from the gap. I was following the scent of the milk. As I came closer, my nose helped me envision it: a shallow bowl sitting a bit higher than the earth, probably on the ledge just beyond a door. Already I could feel the milk on my tongue¡­ I didn¡¯t even notice the way my eyelids drooped and my mouth drifted open. I stopped myself before any more than my head poked out from the undergrowth. Now I had the dish in full view¡ª And a human, wide-eyed and crouching. So I¡¯d smelled one but not the other. Wow. My nose was really bad. 5. The Hand that Feeds Me I poked my head out from underneath the log cabin, only to lock eyes with a human. This young woman was sitting atop a set of three steps leading up to a wooden door with a screen window, next to a bowl of milk. She was squatting with her knees up to her chin and her hands atop her knees, hair in her face. I couldn¡¯t see her features behind those hands and that bobbed magenta hair¡­except for her rose-gold eyes. Thanks to the lantern by the door, I could see the luminance swimming in those eyes, the deep-green hue of her corduroy pants. But I wasn''t just gonna sit here and stare. This was the one animal I¡¯d been hoping never to encounter¡ªnever to become. I''m making it sound like humans are the devil, aren''t I? That''s not what I mean. It''s more that to me they were, uh, weird and mean and faintly gross. Probably like asking you, the reader, if you wanted to become a dangerous, predatory slug that''s also an alien invader. I think this comparison was doomed from the start, but do you see what I mean? Yes, by getting the power to transform into a catgirl, I was getting the power to become like the immensely powerful city-builders. But I was also getting the power to do things like crash cars, fuss over what clothes to buy, and yank random feral cats'' tails with impunity. I''d never gotten over that last one. Seriously, why? They¡¯re just spines with hair on them. And I''d seen them do worse, on top of that. You know¡­crime¡­beatings¡­ Maybe it wasn''t worse than what truly angry and desperate cats would do to each other, but¡­I''d never been a social animal, and that was why. Now I had a new life, a new body, and a new desire to investigate this human and her bowl of milk, all while staying decidedly farther than an arm''s length away. First I ripped my eyes from hers. Then, slowly and deliberately, I walked up to the bowl. Looking around, I didn¡¯t see anything. And I didn¡¯t hear any challenging snarls. So maybe I could just kind of¡­ Silently, I declared the bowl mine. Coolly, I rested my paws on either side of it. The journey began. I dragged it backward. The human looked¡­flabbergasted. Affronted. Weird. Why? I wasn''t going to let my question show on my face. Instead, I was keeping my face and composure perfectly level. I wasn''t going to let her think I was afraid of her, even though I kinda was. I sniffed at the bowl. At this range, the smell was much clearer. This milk was fresh, and aside from coming from an unfamiliar Vencian species of cow, its quality was undeniable. Was it enchanted with some horrific, gut-twisting curse? Well, the current twisting of my own hungry gut, along with my parched tongue, were bad enough. So I started to lap it up. Slep, slep, slep. Soon after I started drinking, the young woman made a weird sound. It took a few seconds for my brain to wrap around it, but eventually I understood: ¡°Shoo, shoo!¡± I glanced up. She was waving one of her hands at me. To make me go away! Well, how dare she. Who else was gonna drink thi¡­ I turned my head. This time, all the way around. Five raccoons waited in a crowd, gritting their teeth at me. Wow, okay. Good thing I¡¯d stopped relying on smell, because these were five whole smells I''d missed. Which was weird, because three of them were holding and munching on handheld clumps of what was clearly garbage. Didn¡¯t know raccoons liked milk, but I guessed they liked anything, huh¡­ Then the young woman started¡­crying? Or at least tearing up? She flung her head back and forth¡ªgawking at the raccoons, then me, raccoons, me¡ªin total indecision. Her hands flew around her face, grasping at nothing but air. My options flew through my head. If I couldn¡¯t take squirrels, I sure couldn¡¯t handle these. So, reinvigorated a little by this milk, I¡¯d have to run yet again. But then the whimpery pink girl did something that made me freeze: she reached behind her back and pulled out an enormous sword. One so large it clearly couldn¡¯t have fit in the space she got it from. And in one swift move, she brought it down on my head! I darted out of the way. No, that¡¯s a lie¡ªI threw myself like a whirling pogo stick far out of her path, with an involuntary yowl. Sadly, I landed right in the midst of the raccoons, who hopped out of the way with a chorus of growls. What was going on? Why was it going on?! Before I or the raccoons could act, though, the cabin door opened. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Another young woman, backlit magnificently by the yellow light of the doorway behind her, extended her arm, to me. Suddenly I was a magnet. Literally: I was being dragged by an invisible force toward that second girl¡¯s hand. And the magnetism sped up fast. In a single second, I ended up in her arms, scared out of my mind, waggling my legs in all directions, screeching like a deeply confused baby. The woman held me tighter against her chest. As if that was somehow going to calm me down! Her chest was soft, ample, and all but exposed. Admittedly I preferred getting smothered by warm pillows to being, like, hit by a rock¡­but not knowing whether she meant to smother me added a layer of indignity. The raccoons started to creep after me and the second girl, but they wouldn¡¯t set foot on the short stairs leading up to the doorway. Apparently they respected this log cabin, staying on the boundaries of human space, never going any further than that. At this point, the pink girl was on her feet. I could see she had on a red plaid shirt, plus suspenders that arched over her¡ªher big soft chest things. What were those called? Why was I blanking on that word? She and the woman holding me exchanged a few clipped sentences. Then the pink girl disappeared behind the closing door and the whole world was bright. Wow. That was the most disorienting turn of events I¡¯d been through so far. It was hard to see the inside of the cabin with this person¡¯s arm and thick blue sleeve squinching up my face and eyes, but I could tell that everything in this room was dazzlingly lit. While this one was small and yellow, the big one further inward, past another doorway, pulsed the deep red of firelight. So I must''ve seen the glow of firelight from the other window. And was that cooking I smelled? Was that stew? My stomach rumbled like a mighty rolling wave. The suffocating woman gasped, then whispered to me and rubbed my head. I couldn¡¯t follow her words very well, but I knew she¡¯d called me her ¡°sweet little baby.¡± Ridiculous. First of all, I didn''t know her and, unless she had some more baffling magic powers, she didn''t know me. Second, I wasn¡¯t little, she was just big. And could she stop crushing me? I swiveled my head and hissed. That must¡¯ve surprised her. She dropped me on the ground and backed away. I skittered onto my feet, raised my hackles, and bared my fangs at her. Now I had a good look at her and her outfit. A massive, floppy hat and bluish-green hair. A dress that covered absolutely everything except¡ªexcept for her big flesh mounds that I was still inexplicably forgetting the name of. And tall, clacking shoes that took an acrobat to walk in. Seeing her now, and particularly her hat, I intuitively knew why she¡¯d been able to pull me over with just a wave of her hand. She was a witch! Tonight was making more sense. A terrifying kind of sense, but if I could deal with the white aura stuff and my own rebirth, I could deal with this too. Maybe? Here was some good news for my own survival: judging by the way she¡¯d dropped me and the cringe on her face right now, she was, oddly enough, afraid of me! I made up my mind not to even try to stay the night in that ¡°safe¡± cabin. Scaring the witch reminded me that I was tough. I didn¡¯t need human charity, nor did I like it. But I did want to eat¡ªand I would spare these young ladies the indignity of having me chomp off their fingers, though I assured myself I could do this if I wanted. So I commanded this witch to feed me some of her delicious stew, which was sitting in a great big pot on a ledge beside us in this tiny kitchen area. I told her, ¡°Meow.¡± Her face flatlined. Then she gave me a gentle smile. Oh wait, I forgot I couldn¡¯t say words¡­ I meowed again, this time with a nod at the stew. This time I got the message through. Snapping up a ladle and mug, she was quick to get me a meaty, steaming meal. Then she crouched and set the mug before me. Huh. Presentation was a bit off¡ªwho serves soup in a mug?¡ªbut I wouldn¡¯t bite the hand that fed me. This witch lady wasn¡¯t so bad, as long as she wasn¡¯t smothering me. Come to think of it, humans weren¡¯t necessarily so bad when they knew what I was after and cooperated. Some were even nice! Annoying when they kept trying to pet me, though. Sure enough, she kept stroking my back as I ate. I grumbled at her every time, but she just laughed. I would¡¯ve hissed at her, given her one of those fake little nips that barely grazes a human¡¯s hand, but since she had both the food and the superior magic powers, I wasn''t prepared to get on her bad side. Though I assured myself that I could totally find a way to kill her if I needed to. When I was almost done, when I had to stick my head all the way down in the mug to chew up the rest of the stew and the witch started laughing hysterically, the cabin door opened again. I heard the heavy black boots of the magenta-haired girl thumping their way back inside. I finished quickly so I could get a better look at her. The light in the kitchen brought out the luster of her hair and played with the steam-like swirls of fuchsia now showing within her eyes. Her arms were nearly bare¡ªand surprisingly toned. Her face was¡­ It gave me a strong sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu. I¡¯d seen that face on Earth, I just knew it! But I couldn¡¯t say how, and now it was gonna bother me all night. The two women chatted with each other again, too fast for my Stage 1 Human Language brain to follow. But I picked up on one thing: though the blue girl suggested it, the pink girl didn¡¯t stoop to pet me. Good. Holding the door open to the night, the pink girl looked down at me and said with a smile, ¡°Good night.¡± Her voice was as soft as her spirit was and her sword wasn¡¯t. I ran away through the open door. They weren¡¯t getting any sentimentality from me. I¡¯d have to find another way to spend the night. Not a problem. The real problem would¡¯ve been joining a sleepover with weird human strangers.
New Sub-Location Added!
Check your Map to find Reed''s Cabin.
That box brought me to a halt just a few meters away from the cabin. Which I guessed belonged to someone named Reed? Wait¡ªspeaking of locations, what was that ¡°quest¡± from earlier about exploring the woods? And could the boxes please stop showing up in front of my face during battles? Huh huh huh???
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
Quests are ways of gaining Experience (and sometimes other rewards) without necessarily battling. If you¡¯re good, I might add a Quest for making friends! Or girlfriends!
G''uuuhhhhhhhh..... 6. Chart the New World A soft breeze hit my face. I woke up mid-snore, slowly and groggily, raising a heavy head from the sturdy branch of an oak tree. I¡¯d been sleeping the way jaguars do, with one front leg and a tail hanging down. The earth was far below¡ªbut just a jump away, of course. I opened my eyes, and¡­just as quickly closed them again. ¡­ Wait a second¡­ My head being heavy, that wasn¡¯t just an illusion. It was actually heavier. And my ears were floppier. And my leg, the one hanging down past the branch, felt¡­ungainly? Oh no. I¡¯d used Morph in my sleep?! Just as soon as I realized it, I un-Morphed¡ªlike my instinctual fear-adrenaline response made the power short-circuit. Poof! A brief flash followed by a sauna¡¯s worth of steam billowed around me. More than a few birds in the area fluttered off in surprise. My panic hadn¡¯t ended. Sure, I was back in my normal cat body¡ªone I was only just getting used to¡ªbut the fact that I¡¯d sleep-activated one of my Traits somehow? I couldn¡¯t keep doing that! For multiple reasons, but particularly because it would drain SP! Right? Or was draining SP the opposite of what it did? I couldn¡¯t remember every little thing! I thought desperately, Stats!
EXP: 5% (16/300)
HP 100% (40/40)
SP 33% (10/30)
NNNOOOOO! At least this confirmed some good news: going to sleep had restored my HP back to perfect. I was sure it would¡¯ve restored my SP too, but I had to take what I could get. I most definitely appreciated the gains. Before I¡¯d gone to sleep last night, I did a lot of wandering. And running. And wishing I was strong enough to just claw all my foes away. This tree branch here wasn¡¯t the first good one I found. I got chased away from the first tree I scouted out by¡ªthat¡¯s right¡ªmore squirrels, and spotted a family of possums on another. Then I had to give up ten more¡­ Who knew how long I could call this one ¡°mine?¡± Hopefully this branch was good luck, though, since I hadn¡¯t been bothered for my whole night¡¯s sleep. Sadly, when I¡¯d actually managed to secure the branch, the sun was already beginning to rise. Cats do famously take catnaps, but somehow I was still groggy from, uh, being reborn in another world. Plus, with these weird humanoid powers, what if I had to sleep longer hours, and sleep through them all at once? It was something to think about (and shiver at). I needed something to take my mind off of this. Hunting? Foraging? No, that didn¡¯t seem so pressing yet. I was still full from last ni¡ª Last night! Okay, definitely don¡¯t think about that one! Stay away from Reed¡¯s weird magical place unless really, truly desperate for milk and food!! That train of thought did bring me back to another, more important line: the one involving the Quest and the Map. ¡­Map?
Current Location: Taipha¡¯s Home Base (S.C3) Note: Your Player Marker is currently blocking the location Taipha¡¯s Tree.
Oh, cool! A grid of squares unfolded in my vision. Six squares across, five down. Like the grids in many, many human games that I naturally had never played and proudly had no interest in. It clicked in my mind that the ¡°(S.3C)¡± part was referring to the only square on the grid that had been filled in: Square 3C. I also managed to piece that together with the fact that the Quest notification I¡¯d gotten last night said I¡¯d explored 3 percent of the Vencian Wood. Because the number three¡­kind of looked like thirty. The table had thirty squares. I did not know math. The Map was fun, and it¡¯d probably come in handy, but it wasn¡¯t incredibly detailed. I could see that place called Reed¡¯s Cabin, and I could see a little arrow thingy with a cat head on it marking my own location, but no hazards: no ridges, no cliffs, and definitely not deadly squirrel or raccoon nests. Was it mainly a way to track my progress in that Quest thing? ¡­Huh. Weird.
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
The Map¡¯s got other features. Hang tight and Evolve.
Good to know, but I mainly was curious about the Quest¡­
Like what you get from it?
I¡¯d get stuff from it?
Yeah. Just a boatload of Experience. Plus a holy relic.
H-how much Experience?
Hmm, let¡¯s see¡­ Enough to give you twenty, maybe thirty Levels.
I salivated. Suddenly, running around the whole entire forest was the only thing on my mind. I hurtled down from my tree, landed effortlessly on my feet, and gave the tree trunk a good rub with my scent. It was about time I started making a name for myself around here. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Then I took a look around. It was a breezy day, but not at all a cold one. Caterpillar clouds crawled along the sky in a big armada. They had a greenish tint to them. I wondered whether that meant something or was just a thing that clouds did over the Vencian Wood. Now. Onward! Wait. Training! If I was going to explore, I needed to get both stealthier and stronger. Fortunately, there did exist such a thing as easy prey: the purple beetles. Crouching low in the grass, I wove my way around the trees, searching for signs of my favorite kill¡­and my only kill. Several minutes later, I found a trail of them running down maple bark, plus a few more bebeetled trees nearby. This time, I¡¯d test my mettle by attacking them without Swipe. After that Level-Up and my Evolution, I was feeling pretty limber and maybe a little cocky. That wasn¡¯t the only reason I went without the Skill, though. It hadn¡¯t escaped my notice that after my Level-Up, Swipe cost more SP to use, going from 5 to 10. Probably because it was stronger now. So while I could use Swipe more times now, I couldn¡¯t fling Swipes off willy-nilly. And after my sleep Morph, I only had enough SP for a single move. Luckily, the beetles weren¡¯t fast or smart enough to get a chance to fight me back thanks to my cheesy strategy. And as I swatted them down, I pumped myself up. You¡¯re doing great, Taipha! Don¡¯t get discouraged! Don¡¯t get bored! They¡¯re not worth much, but every bit of Experience counts! Eventually, I scanned the corpses on the ground. One hundred and sixty-seven beetles. Four trees. Aching front legs. And my Experience? Let¡¯s see how far that EXP bar¡¯s gone!
EXP: 84% (253/300)
Uh¡­ Timidly, I looked around. No more beetles in sight. My stomach made the slightest rumble. Soon I¡¯d have to get to eating these bug corpses. Not only were these beetles going to taste downright terrible compared to the stew I¡¯d eaten last night¡ªthanks to my higher Experience needs, each beetle was only worth half of what it¡¯d been worth before! And who knew when I was going to Evolve into one of those supposed stronger forms?
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
Just get to Level 8.
Oh yeah! Wait, Level 8?! That was like an eternity away!
Or maybe you¡¯re just impatient?
Goddesses had no idea. They weren¡¯t the ones who had to suffer through weird reincarnations¡ªor, for that matter, live on the streets.
You may be surprised, Taipha. I have lived countless lives over the course of centuries¡­ (Just kidding, I¡¯ve spent basically my whole existence in a cloud palace.)
Get outta here! I swatted the box away, and it (not ¡°she¡±; the box was not actually a deity, as I finally realized) politely left. I nibbled on my niblets, eyes squinted with irritation. Man, when she was ¡°unavailable,¡± she was gone, but when she felt like being here, she couldn¡¯t shut up. Having her around for a few seconds was alright, just to tell me what I needed to know, but a whole conversation¡­ Well, clearly I¡¯d have to hunt something else, and as soon as I had that thought, that something passed right by my face. A sparkling green dragonfly! I waggled my butt (it gets me ready for the hunt, don¡¯t make fun) and took off running. Confidence welled up in me and burst like a firecracker. I lost track of time, my surroundings, everything but my target. Locking my eyes on that green streak, I knew that however fast it was, it wasn¡¯t faster than me. Blurs of plant life raced by, and the sounds of startled animals washed off and away like water off a duck¡¯s back. No fear, no doubt, no sighs at the growing pain in my pumping legs. Just determination. When the moment was right, I jumped. Swipe!
SP 0% (0/30)
My claw soared through the air, headed for the dragonfly¡ªwho dipped at the last moment. Shoot. Plop. Overeager. I landed face-first in the grass, taking minor damage. Ow. Soft but not soft enough.
HP 98% (39/40)
As I shook myself off, I watched that dragonfly take off¡­and felt the full force of my legs newly aching. All the running of last night caught up to me, merged with the new day, and made my body throb. Well, that was an obvious failure¡­
New Area!
¡­wait, really? I looked around and, by all accounts, the box was right. Was I really in the forest anymore? I wasn¡¯t even in a clearing. I was in full-fledged plains. The trees were spaced further apart here, leaving ample space for grass to waft in the wind. And there were more smatterings of flowers, and where they grew, they seemed to stack on top of each other, hungry for life. Purple-and-red pansies bloomed by my feet, towered over by broad, sombrero-like daisies and strange flowers that looked a little like snapdragons and a little like palm trees. All waving in beautiful harmony whenever a breeze blew through. Wherever the flowers were, the hills smelled like honey. While the world seemed to be in a cool, breezy summer now, I promised myself never to come here during the height of spring. I¡¯d be sneezing forever. I looked into the sky, searching for the sun. I was closer to it now¡­I had run east. How the heck far east was I?
Current Location: ??? (S.D3)
Ah, okay, Not that far into this new area at all. Wow, that dragonfly had taken me way farther from home than I would¡¯ve ever guessed. My Wisdom was¡­probably going down a point from that. Maybe this sudden journey was a blessing in disguise, though. Plus, I had a day to kill, pun intended. Oho, let me revise that statement. I had a rabbit to kill, a tannish-brown one standing right in front of me and crinkling their little rabbit nose. Poor thing must not have known that cats are omnivores, or that this one had recently enjoyed rabbit stew. Of course I had no Swipes on me, but when nature calls like that, you answer. I decided to stand perfectly still (clearly my jump-in-head-on strategy wasn¡¯t working today) and let the rabbit sniff at me. Then I¡ª
Treasure Detected!
Check your Map for the location.
And now I was blind! Thank you for sharing at this opportune time! Nonetheless, in one swift movement, I zoomed forward, both paws aiming for the rabbit¡¯s sides. But the rabbit ducked underneath and bolted as the box blinked out, and all that was left hanging in midair¡ª Were delicate streaks of beaded blood. As the rabbit hopped away and I fell on all fours again, I marveled at this sign, however small, of my growing power. I let this rabbit go free, but the next one, I assured myself, wouldn¡¯t get off so easy. In my head, I was already planning better strategies for the next rabbit to come by: better angles to jump from, better ways to use my claws to pin the rabbit rather than simply scratch them. I took a quick look around. The air was fresh and open and free of hawks, and the hills were quiet. No better hiding places I could see than the clumps of flowers dotted here and there. So I locked onto a nearby flower patch, wiped the rabbit blood off my claws using some tissue-quality petals, crouched low, and¡­ Z-zip! Running didn¡¯t make that kind of sound. If only it did. 7. Flower Fields Rabbits were tough enough even without Skills and Stats! It wasn¡¯t just their speed, but the way they ran, cleverly cutting their predators off, dashing in zigzags and scurrying into obnoxiously well-placed holes. And they weren¡¯t like rats¡ªat least rats never ran in squiggly lines. A submarine in the tides of flowers, I lay in wait for a rabbit to come. I had to bite off more than a few big sneezes, but after only a couple minutes, a rabbit came by. And I was ready. Intimidated, but ready. Don¡¯t be hasty, Taipha. Petals rustled under the brown rabbit¡¯s feet. Their nose wrinkled. A buck-toothed mouth quietly worked at a flower¡¯s juicy leaf. I eased forward¡­ The rabbit stopped, ears cocked, now at full attention. ¡­I wished I could¡¯ve taken that back. It wasn¡¯t just their speed and running technique, either. All that and their sensitivity made them tough prey. Now I really couldn¡¯t waste any more time¡ªif any more suspicion entered the rabbit¡¯s mind, they¡¯d bolt. But I wasn¡¯t too far away. From the distance I was at now, I could easily snake two paws forward and snare the rabbit by the forelegs. I didn¡¯t do that. Because I knew that with a smidge more effort, I could grab their sides and pin them down. I pounced. Petals went flying. My claws went securely into the rodent¡¯s hide, just where I¡¯d aimed them, and at the same time, my vicious jaws went for the rabbit¡¯s skull. But my teeth missed¡ªand my hind legs went flying too. Because the rabbit was bolting, and my free legs hadn¡¯t pinned themselves down anywhere. With me still hanging on (now for dear life), the rabbit took three long, zigzagging jumps before planting a kick in my snout. Their secret weapon: two strong hind feet, glowing.
HP 65% (26/40)
Ow! Could the wildlife here give me a break? Yowling and plunging my claws into the hide as far as they could go, I struggled to keep up without half-ragdolling against the plains, paddling my back paws through the air like the pedals of a bicycle on the loose. Just keep going, just keep going¡­ But I could feel my claws slipping¡­ Okay, this isn¡¯t going anywhere. Begrudgingly, I let go. Part of me wanted to flounder and crash into a flower heap, like some dented and dispirited car. But the other part of me was a fighter. I ended up running behind the rabbit without skipping a beat. I¡¯d even gotten a bit of a feel for how they moved, tracing their zigzags with my eyes and partly with my trail. We were both at a full sprint, though¡ªa big problem because my Speed clearly couldn¡¯t compete with theirs. The distance between us was getting greater and greater, inch by inch. How far had we gone? I was so focused on the rabbit¡¯s tail and feet, the target dashing before me, that I didn¡¯t spare a single glance at the forest receding behind me. But I keenly felt the landscape undulating beneath my feet¡ªracing hills. And those hillsides gave me an idea. It was like my human brain, or my tiny human brain-gland, activated on the spot. See, we were currently on a long, gentle slope. But up ahead, that slope became more of a ridge, its slope getting more dramatic as it hugged what had to be the mother of all hills. Soon we were running right along this ridge. I separated from the rabbit, pulling off sideways into my own lane. Then I inched higher and higher, watching the rabbit¡¯s lead go from inches to feet. Did they think they were winning? Let them think that. Sideways and upwards, Taipha. If I could muster some final, titanic burst of running energy, make a springing takeoff with my hind legs, that combined with the human-mastered power of gravity could give me a burst of speed! ¡­And if science didn¡¯t work that way on such a small scale, then at least a battle cry could hype me up. ¡°Mraow!¡± I roared with a mighty diagonal jump. My hind legs channeled what seemed like the last of my energy reserves. I saw it¡ªthe roar and the sudden move giving the rabbit just the slightest second of pause¡ªand then I reveled in it. Flesh bleeding under my claws, two animals tumbling to the dirt. We rolled, and I wrapped myself tightly around the rabbit, determined not to let go. And when the ground we hit was flat and solid, I tore in. I¡¯m not going to describe it in much detail. Humans get queasy about blood, and it¡¯s weird, but I¡¯ll accept it. Suffice it to say, though, that I didn¡¯t let the rabbit find space to kick me. It was not a flailing death. And once they were dead, I began to eat. Not gonna describe that much either. A victorious box blossomed in my vision. Was it odd that I didn¡¯t pay attention to it for a good few minutes? The satisfaction of a well-earned meal was too distracting. Once the crushing reality set in that raw rabbit didn¡¯t taste nearly as good as rabbit stew¡ªnot even to my feral-cat tongue¡ªI looked at my other gains.
Level Up!
Lv. 2 ¡ú Lv. 3
EXP: 2% (11/450)
HP 100% (60/60)
SP 100% (45/45)
ATK 9
INT 5 (+1!)
DEF 6
WIS 3
SPD 7 (+1!)
Yay! I was going to seriously enjoy that Speed boost more than anything else, I figured. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. But¡­I was starting to notice a problem, one that was bound to get worse with time if I didn¡¯t untangle it soon. I was gaining Intelligence surprisingly fast¡­but Wisdom was lagging. It was now my saddest Stat. Frankly, I wasn¡¯t clear on what Wisdom was good fo¡ª Wisdom huh.
Error: Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata is unavailable. Please leave a message.
¡­Um¡­System tool tips activate?
Error: ¡°System Tool Tips Activate¡± is an Invalid Request.
System¡­help?
System Help Desk Activated.
Select a category below to learn more: Stats Levels Traits Skills Evolution Quest Map Treasure Inventory (locked by sysadmin) Items (locked by sysadmin) Equipment (locked by sysadmin) Meat Locker (locked by sysadmin) Existential Purpose (locked by sysadmin)
My eyes swam with all the new, currently irrelevant info. Just tell me about Stats for right now! I thought-implored.
Stats improve your physical and mental capabilities. You can permanently increase Stats by Leveling Up or undergoing targeted physical or mental training, as well as by gaining certain rare Traits. Stats can also be temporarily increased via certain Skills, usable Items, and Equipment. Select a Stat below to learn more: HP (Health Points) SP (Skill Points) ATK (Attack) INT (Intelligence) DEF (Defense) WIS (Wisdom) SPD (Speed)
¡­
Wisdom is the mental counterpart of Defense; one fortifies the mind as the other fortifies the body. Also like Defense, it increases another Stat (Skill Points). Wisdom is intimately tied to intuition, inductive reasoning, and common sense.
Okay, well, I didn¡¯t really know what two of those things were, so this was a bad start. According to my storehouse of general information, ¡°inductive reasoning¡± was a fancy way of answering questions, and ¡°common sense¡± was a bunch of homespun phrases written by farmers. ¡°The early bird catches the worm¡±? Yeah, I didn¡¯t see how that would be relevant to any cat, much less a human. But maybe I was being hasty¡ªand for sure I was proving how deplorable my Wisdom Stat truly was.
Ways to train Wisdom include: Meditating Traveling Developing social skills Contemplating nature Observing behavior Mastering your own habits and emotions
No wonder I¡¯d never increased this Stat beyond the minimum: besides ¡°traveling,¡± and besides the fact that as a wild animal I needed to observe others¡¯ behavior anyway, all of these struck me as¡­boring! Wait, what the¡ª¡°Developing social skills¡±? Did these boxes really think they were gonna sneak that one by me? Ah, I saw what game Sierra was playing. This was another way to make me ¡°want¡± to hang out with the humans in the cabin. Same with the way Reed¡¯s Cabin ¡°enticingly¡± appeared on my Map right after I first hung out there. I mean, I had this cabin as a location, but not Large Helpful Hill-Ridge?! If my next Level-Up didn¡¯t get a Wisdom bonus from figuring that one out, I didn¡¯t know what would. Still, traveling and¡­contemplating the things I happened to pass by and walk on? That much I could do. As I picked off as much of the rabbit as my stomach could hold, I let my thoughts linger on how grateful I was to the Grand Canyon of Hills for, um, happening to be in an appropriate shape for my gambit to take place. Man, this was such a human thing to do. ¡­Oh yeah! Right, I had a Map to check. And Treasure to pick up, right? Fresh from the health-refueling Level-Up, feeling newly restless, I opened it up and wondered what was in store. Wow was my throat gonna get parched soon. Maybe the Treasure would be a bottle of water or something. Did it ever rain here? There had to be rain here¡­ 8. Gold in the Hills
Current Location: Rabbitfoot Hills (S.D3) Note: Treasure detected and marked.
I was currently in the south of these hills¡­which the parade of boxes had quietly named ¡°Rabbitfoot Hills¡± right under my nose. Was it because that rabbit had kicked me in the snout? That happened one time! And I clawed the rabbit several times! Meanwhile, that Treasure the boxes so desperately wanted me to grab was practically right above me. Uh, north of me. Easy, probably? I took a look around. Wind swept across the land, swaying the rainbow splotches interspersed among the green. Rare trees swayed too; from my current view, I counted three. Not long ago, I¡¯d reflected that these hills didn¡¯t offer many hiding places for a stranger. There were these flowers, and surely there were animal dens I¡¯d come across on my journey, and those trees, of course, had wide hollows and wider branches. Treasure could be hidden in the crook of a tree trunk, or buried underground. In fact¡­it could be buried deep, deep underground. The Map said nothing about how high or low the Treasure was. Let¡¯s¡­let¡¯s not think about that part yet, I told myself. Thankfully, I had all day to find it. And now that I was a little bit tougher, I had a blazing enthusiasm to grab that Treasure, just to prove that I could do it. And to prove that I could beat up any animal that came my way. *** I had assumed that the forest at night was the quietest the Vencian Wood ever got. Not true. It was an odd oxymoron. Everything¡ªevery little sound¡ªwas separate and distinct. And yet it was all brushed across by the constant wave and churn of the summer wind. Whenever a breeze blew by, I could tell the rustles of grass blades apart from the petals. I could tell which sound was a distant creature and which was a wavering birch. Paws padding against the grass. A single dragonfly. It was calm enough that I felt alright taking an easy pace. Strolling, the way humans did at the park. I wasn¡¯t going to let my guard down, but I wasn¡¯t gonna rush either. I was just walking north along whispering hills, prepared to bite back at whatever might pick a fight with me. In the pan-shallow valleys between the vast hills, the flower patches and tall grasses frequently grew above my head. They parted sometimes, exposing rabbit dens and¡ª Woah there. I nearly stepped on a prairie dog. They were poking their head out of a big hole and staring with wild eyes. I could see the whites of those eyes, which gave the face a weirdly human look. Oh, perfect target. The universe was being good to me right now! I got down low, my belly brushing dirt debris. With one claw, I scratched the prairie dog right in the face. It hit! The rodent squealed, turned around, and scrambled deeper into the hole. ¡­Oh no. I hadn¡¯t thought this through. Was I willing to go in the burrow to finish this up? And how much power and SP would that take? The hole was certainly big enough. It was somewhat wider than the rodent, but the perfect size for me. Or, on second thought, maybe a tight squeeze. Sigh¡­ I paused and took stock of my surroundings. The sun was just shy of noon, and ninety degrees off of the direction it tilted, I saw a wall of distant trees¡ªsuggesting the south edge of the plains was far away. Incidentally, it may sound like I had a gadget in my head, but I don¡¯t know of any better, more natural way to express a feral animal¡¯s inner compass. As long as the sun was up or familiar stars were out, at the slightest glance, any one of us¡ªand maybe human explorers too¡ªwould¡¯ve known which way was south. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Wait! That meant the Treasure was nearby, didn¡¯t it? That meant I was practically already there! Yep! The Treasure icon was right underneath my Taipha icon. (Making the Map a lot less legible, but whatever.) My human knowledge repository¡ªthe same place in my mind that told me what swords and witches were¡ªreminded me that Treasure tends to come in boxes. Really fancy ones, with gold on the edges. Scanning the hillsides, I saw nothing but grass and grass and more dang grass. I was beginning to realize what that meant. I looked at the hole again, my heart sinking. I¡¯d have to kick up a fresh hole using my not-meant-for-digging-in-any-form claws¡­or I¡¯d have to jam myself into this hole and try not to get trounced by the agile prairie dogs inside¡ªnot just for Experience Points, but also for a Treasure. Because you know what pirates do to find loot? They dig¡­ Tight spaces¡­my favorite¡­sigh¡­ Well, the tunneling prairie dogs had already given my digging a head-start. And maybe they were, like, the guardians of the Treasure. Okay, that sounded unlikely. But if it was a bottle or spring of water¡ªwhich I¡¯d been craving more and more on my stroll¡ªthen it made more sense, maybe? No more procrastinating. With a spring, I launched myself in. My hind legs flailed in the air for a moment, but luckily I found my footing. I¡¯d try to look cool later. Total darkness: my element. Tight, enclosed areas: kind of not. And the squeeze was getting tighter, and the air was hard to breathe. Plus, my paws had trouble feeling out the grainy ground here, let alone actually moving my body across it¡ªmy claws weren¡¯t meant for burrows in more ways than one. I ended up doing an awkward shimmy-shuffle down the prairie dog chute. Still not looking cool, but my time would come. Down and ahead, I heard feet scurrying. This burrow wasn¡¯t just for one rodent; it housed an entire family. They were shooting off like rockets. I guessed they were running for an escape route, or routes. Obviously the entrance I¡¯d taken hadn¡¯t been the only one. Darn. Unless there was a sick prairie dog in here or something, I¡¯d have to give up on Experience Points. But not the Treasure. I was so close to the Treasure! In fact, my Map said I was basically on top of it! Or below it! When I sensed that I was at the bottom of the burrow¡ªthe spot where the path both forward and backward arced back up toward the surface¡ªI stopped. I looked around, wondering if the dirt would give any signs of the Treasure. Which direction was it in? Well, if I dug upward, there was no guarantee that my clumsy paws wouldn¡¯t bring it all crashing down. I¡¯d try downward first. How would I do this? Maybe a¡­doggy paddling motion? (The human knowledge repository had given the motion a name that made me cringe. Just awful.) I moved my paws through the dirt. Slowly and cluelessly at first, then frantically and cluelessly, sending lung-clogging clouds everywhere. I scrunched my eyes closed, held my breath, and kept going for as long as I could stand to. And then I felt it. Something smooth to the touch. What could it be? A smooth, lacquered box? A crystal? Or something stranger? I didn¡¯t pause too long to ask. Instead, I slapped my paws on either side and yanked it upward as best as I could. The coating of dust gave my paw pads a weirdly good grip. Then I dropped it with a howl of shock. It crashed through the dirt, plunging in deeper. A different box had startled me.
Inventory Unlocked!
New Trait Added: Inventory (Stage 1/5) Your Inventory is an interdimensional hyperspace carrying case for any objects you might find on your journey. Only nonliving, inanimate objects can be carried in your Inventory. Currently you can hold up to 3 item types in your Inventory. Up to 9 of each item can be carried.
So many words! So much weird terminology about space and whatever! G¡¯augh, it made me wanna vomit! Why did boxes haunt me like this?! Well, if I didn¡¯t utilize it, clearly I was going to have a merry old time bringing this smooth thing back to the surface, because this burrow was such a fun place to be in.
Tip: Place an in-range item in your Inventory at any time by focusing on it and thinking or saying the word ¡°Inventory.¡± Do not confuse this with the method of opening your Inventory.
Whatever you say! Inventory! I thought, staring daggers into the unearthed Treasure. Poof! It disappeared into a puff of whitish-gray clouds. Augh! More dust, more smoke! I coughed and hacked preemptively until I realized that this time it had really just been steam. Actually, less than steam: when it all dissipated a few seconds later, there was no trace of moisture left behind, not in the air or the mulch.
Treasure Acquired!
Mission accomplished, then. Assuming I could get the Treasure back out. I sped away, shuffling forward through the upward arc of the burrow.
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 7% (2/30)
9. Safe Haven A single shiny dragonfly landed on the bark. Its yellow-green back nearly matched the grass, except that it glowed sunset-red when the light hit it just right. And those iridescent wings looked so much like a pond¡¯s surface, so pure, so sparkling, so¡­crunchy. I couldn¡¯t have asked for a better target. Here was a dragonfly setting itself up to be eaten¡ªright at the base of my personal tree! I had to fight it, even if just for trespassing. First I crept up on the dragonfly, careful to make myself as quiet as possible. Since the grass here was tall, I had to move at the same time the wind moved it¡ªand to tread lightly. Then, when I was as close as I got whenever I was swatting beetles, I whipped out my claws. Wham! I actually caught it! Though the attack had been one-pawed, I then brought both paws together like an iron maiden to finish the job. A surge of power went through me. It wasn¡¯t a Level-Up, though. It was just satisfaction at having captured the prey that had fled once before. Sometimes that was just as good.
EXP: 7% (30/450)
HP 100% (60/60)
SP 67% (30/45)
It was nearly sunset in the Vencian Wood, and the sky was a thing of wonder. All the caterpillar clouds had turned navy-blue, traveling under an orange dome. I devoured the dragonfly. Flavor-wise, it was actually a step up from the beetles¡ªit had a tang to it. But the water-like surface of its wings was like a slap in the face, considering how little water I¡¯d found thus far. Yes, I¡¯d found the tiniest, saddest watering hole as I¡¯d made my way back from the Rabbitfoot Hills to my so-called Home Base, but in lapping it up, I¡¯d also exhausted it. On my way back, I¡¯d crushed a few more beetles, spotted a gecko (and missed it), and nearly captured another rabbit (proving that the same trick won¡¯t always work twice). When the afternoon had grown late, I was pleased to find my old rabbit remains still sitting in the fields. After all, with my Inventory, couldn¡¯t I take it with me and eat the rest at my leisure? But I couldn¡¯t find a way to approach it¡ªnot safely, since a falcon was standing over the remains, plucking out what little meat was left. Grrrgh. And now I was back at my tree. I knew that I had the Attack and the willpower to go out and fight for more Experience, but this had been my first day of real adventuring and I was fatigued, not to mention my mind was overloaded with new information. I kind of wanted to rest on my laurels for the night. Plus, I hadn¡¯t given myself a chance to look at the Treasure I¡¯d found just yet! Now that I was at the place my boxes had kindly called Taipha¡¯s Tree, I could climb up to my favorite branch and take a breather. I did just that. And found a raccoon sitting in my spot. No, I found five raccoons. All sitting like lazy losers, letting all their limbs along with their heads dangle off the edge. They were all wide awake, though, and they turned their heads in sync to gaze at me. I was sure, without a doubt, that this was the same bunch of raccoons that had claimed the milk I still considered mine! Can you believe that pink girl actually defended the raccoons instead of me?! It might even have been her fault that they were slacking on my branch! She didn¡¯t have to let them live! And I, sadly, wasn¡¯t about to risk my life going head-to-head with what may well have been five Level 8 creatures. So I hopped down, realizing that maybe I was the real loser. I landed on the grass again, thinking, That¡¯s alright. Maybe they won¡¯t be there tomorrow. Even if they are, I can find another place easy. I sniffed. My scent was still on the tree¡ªyou can¡¯t just remove a scent like you¡¯d peel off a sticker. But now the rival smells hit me, too, strong and clear. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. I looked around. Suddenly I was all too aware of how many spots in these woods were taken. Hollowed-out holes. Bustling nests. Pits in the ground, housing rabbits or snakes or worse. Then a thought came to me: There is a place for me. It was the cabin. Reed¡¯s Cabin. I hated the thought, but¡­if it was for the sake of survival, I had to do it, didn¡¯t I? That girl¡ªthe one who let the raccoons live¡ªshe hadn¡¯t been a total jerk. After all, she hadn¡¯t pet me like the blue one had. And both of them had done nice things for me. I had to admit it. ¡°Good night,¡± the pink one had told me. With such a nice smile. A smile that¡­ I hadn¡¯t figured out who she reminded me of. Someone from the city I¡¯d grown up in¡ªsomeone had a face like hers. But who? And why did I care, anyway?
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
I¡¯ll help you out here. Activate: Morph!
Wha, huh?! Oh, so now the goddess wasn¡¯t explaining things. She was just going to leave me out here with more questions than answers! Wait, did she just make me use my Trait? I froze. Mere moments had passed since that box appeared and disappeared. Nothing had happened yet. But I had a feeling that a long, terrifying, stomach-curdling transformation was about to ha¡ª Poof. Not quite. In a flash, I was sitting in the grass¡ªkneeling on bare human legs. Everything about me was different. My breathing was deeper and longer. My body was so tall I felt like a tower. My whiskers were gone, taking some of my talent for tracking with them. And I didn¡¯t have fur anymore. I had hair that, however long it was, couldn¡¯t make up for how cold I was quickly becoming. Except for my extremely long, Lady Godiva-like hair, I was totally naked. My hands flew to my arms and¡ªuh, chest¡ªto try and cover the goosebumps. Then I rubbed my arms like heck. How was I shivering? It was such a pleasant summer out here! No wonder humans wore stuff. Wait. Some things were still the same. I felt cat ears twitching on top of my head. Sure, they were proportional to my big old clunky human head, but they still worked, and moved as keenly as ever. Though losing my whiskers did sting, I still had all my senses mostly intact. Not only that, but I still had my tail! Which was practically useless now. Tails are great for communication and balance, but humans get my tail signals all wrong, and plainly humans don¡¯t need any balancing help from them. (I guess they have canes for that?) So unless I was meeting other cat-human hybrids anytime soon, that thing would unfortunately just be decoration. I took a break from arm-rubbing to check out my hands. Aw, I had ordinary human nails! Or did I? I tried bringing my claws out, which did something strange: the nails actually filed themselves into ten sharp, pale points. Clacking them together, I found out they were just as hard as my cat claws. I swiveled my legs and feet out to try it there¡ªsame thing. Okay. Breathe, Taipha. This wasn¡¯t all bad. It did make me feel dizzy, and queasy, but at least it was¡­ The perfect way to approach Reed¡¯s Cabin. Going there was, at any rate, a better idea than sitting in the middle of the forest, staring forlornly at the tree I liked to call mine. I wobbled to my feet, rising slowly to keep from getting vertigo. My wavy blonde hair, striped with fine stripes of orange, fell almost to my knees. Ugh, it was just asking to get tangled in tree branches. I took my time walking through the woods, setting my hand on tree trunks as I passed to keep myself upright. No animals attacked me. Nothing even approached me¡ªI figured they might have been afraid of me. Certainly something to keep in mind the next time I was in big trouble. But for now, I just had to find a safe haven. And now that I was moving toward one, I burned to see that magenta-haired girl again. When I found the log cabin, it looked almost the same as it had the night before. I¡¯d approached it from a different angle. Cozy red light streamed from two ground-floor windows. The rest were dark, save for one on the second floor, beaming yellow. A lantern hung beside the front door. I knew that wasn¡¯t the doorway I¡¯d gone through last night¡ªthe ¡°milk door¡± must¡¯ve been on the back or side. This door didn¡¯t have a screen window like the other one. Its brown surface was carved with curlicue vines, just fancy enough to look out of place on this down-to-earth cabin. In the distance, an owl hooed. I had no idea what those humans would think of me coming to them in this form, but it couldn¡¯t be that bad. In a magic world, anything is possible¡ªand they¡¯d have to have known that. Cats probably came to humans in the form of naked women every day. As I walked toward the cabin, I realized I wasn¡¯t just dizzy¡ªI was losing energy. No, I was losing SP! I brought up my Stats:
HP 100% (60/60)
SP 22% (10/45)
Oh no. I wished I¡¯d remembered that sooner: the Stage 1 Morph was a constant drain on my SP. Then again, if it was going to guarantee me a good night¡¯s sleep, I¡¯d get it back anyway. Risk and reward¡­ I gritted my teeth. I¡¯d risked this much. Either these women were going to let me in, or I¡¯d fight my way in. I marched up to the front door, onto those short concrete steps, and did what humans did: I knocked. Then I did the other thing humans did and, with my new human voice and my new human words, I announced myself: ¡°Meow.¡± 10. Cue the Angelic Chorus ¡°Meow.¡± I¡­meant to say ¡°hello,¡± but whatever. Surely the people in the cabin would know what I meant, right? Surely they¡¯d see my big cat ears and my wavy cat tail and see from my body language that I was horribly cold and scared and lonely? I¡¯d gone from timid to brash to timid again. Just moments ago I¡¯d been so devoted to my goal of entering this cabin that I felt prepared to knock over its inhabitants and steal the territory. Or just dig into a corner and hiss at whoever tried to whack me with a broom. It wasn¡¯t a very well-thought-out plan. Scratch that: it was never a plan to begin with, just me doing the best I could with the situation that Sierra and a bunch of raccoons, in their combined mischievousness, had thrown me into. And now I was doubting the not-plan. The zing of adrenaline was leaving me. After I knocked, my fist hovered in the air, losing its fire. I tried to listen beyond the door, tried to sense whether anyone¡¯s feet were coming. Yes! Someone was there! Light footsteps hurried to the door. Maybe they were excited to see me! The door opened in a flash. Behind it: a girl with a close-cropped cap of green-tinted, near-white hair who looked downright angry. She took one look at me¡ªa single scan, up and down¡ªand slammed the door shut. I couldn¡¯t believe it. ¡°Meow!¡± I wailed, pounding on the door with both fists. ¡°Meow mraow meooow!¡± At first, my wailing was furious. Sooner or later, SP or no SP, I¡¯d punch down this door. But then my wails were choked with sobs. Tears streaked my face as I threw my fists against an unmoving door. My legs became weak, and I slid down to the ground, kneeling¡ªand still pounding. At that point, I wasn¡¯t even speaking anymore. I was just sobbing. Who was this new girl? Why couldn¡¯t I make her understand?! Then my SP ran out. Cats can¡¯t cry. The feeling of tearing up due to nothing but emotion was bizarre to me. Now that I had poofed back into a sad orange tabby, I just felt devastated. I almost wished I could have cried more. I shrank into a ball right on those concrete steps. If any raccoons were coming, they could have me. Minutes passed. Five, then ten. Nothing but the sounds of the forest had answered me. But dark skies had come and the night was long, and anything could have been out there. And then¡­ Light footsteps returned to the door. The door opened again, but slowly this time. My ears twitched to attention. I lifted and turned my head. The young woman was looking for a cat-eared human again, wasn¡¯t she? But would she know that I was right here, that I didn¡¯t look like that form anymore? Maybe she wouldn¡¯t, maybe it was a lost cause. Poking her head out of the doorway, she sized me up again. This time, her gaze lingered. Then her eyebrows squinched together in confusion. Of course, my fur was yellow and stripey, and so was the hair of my nekomata form. I had to hope she was putting the pieces together. She looked out toward the woods and cupped a hand around her mouth. She called out a single, long word I understood immediately: ¡°Hellooooo?¡± What the heck was she doing? Was she trying to lure owls or something? I shivered with brief fear. She said something to me in a dwindling voice. What was it? An apology? A threat? I had no idea. Her body language suggested nothing but irritation and, again, confusion. Hm¡­maybe I could dart into the house while she still had the door open. Find a corner or a basement where she couldn¡¯t get me out. Maybe find those other two girls. Instead, the green-haired girl acted before I could. She seized me, gathered me in an awkward heap against her chest, and kicked the door shut. She was taking me inside¡ªand upstairs? The cabin passed by in a blur. I flailed, trying to get a better view, but the green girl¡¯s arms fought me for the whole walk. Did I see the red of that fireplace flame? All I could gather about the staircase was that it was short and dark. Our destination, though, was glowing a delicate yellow. When we got there, the girl dropped me onto the ground. I landed immaculately on a white floor rug. No thanks to her. This green one wasn¡¯t showing me any respect (like the pink one did) or even any fear (like the witch one did). She was an out-and-out jerk. Sure, I was inside the cabin, but I had to share it with a beast. Immediately after dropping me, she paid me zero attention¡ªflopped into a little rocking chair and pulled out a scruffy book. She studied it so intensely that her green eyes could¡¯ve been meteorites. Black joggers did nothing to make her look relaxed. The gray turtleneck made her look downright severe. She sat in a white rocking chair in a white-plush room of lace, doilies, bows, and sashes. One side was full of shelves and cabinets all covered in figurines, immaculately carved from wood and stone. They seemed to be animals because they had four feet, but were too smoothly abstract for me to know for sure. Eerie and cold, to my eyes, yet she probably saw them as cute or something. Another side was dominated by an incredibly large cottony bed. If this was her room with her decorations, then I figured she had some fussy aristocratic manners that I just hadn¡¯t seen yet. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Or maybe I was biased because she had just thrown me. Whatever. I was safe, and that should have been enough to make me happy. Or content. I crawled into the corner of the room and hopped onto a marshmallowy ottoman, growling all the while. Then, for good measure, I whipped out my claws and casually scratched up the top of that ottoman. Would I get thrown out for this? Not tonight. The girl did not look up, though if she truly didn¡¯t notice by now, surely she would by tomorrow. I simmered in my anger for a while, but eventually I cooled off. My body language relaxed when I reminded myself that everything here was perfectly calm. The green-haired girl was still. Rigid, and grimacing for seemingly no reason other than my existence, but still. And all the austere wooden figures almost looked like an audience of guardian angels. I became aware of a ticking clock on a small table by the girl¡¯s side. ¡­And all the questions I hadn¡¯t yet answered! The big one was the question of the pink girl¡¯s doppelganger from Earth. Some person I recognized. I was sure that if I could just see her again, that d¨¦j¨¤ vu would come back to me and I¡¯d get the answer. Beyond that were countless questions about human society, manners, and norms. The one question that tortured me right now, though, was the identity of that Treasure I¡¯d found. Up to this point, I¡¯d put things into my Inventory but never taken things out. This weird hyperspatial thing felt so uncertain. What if the whole thing went haywire? ¡­And sent random objects flying against this jerk¡¯s walls? Okay. Inventory.
Inventory: 1/3
Treasure: ??? Found in Rabbitfoot Hills.
No help at all. But at best, it proved the thing still worked. Inventory tip?
Error: ¡°Inventory Tip¡± is an Invalid Request.
Gah! Inventory huh.
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
I¡¯m in shock. All that time forced into your nekomata form and you haven¡¯t once insulted me.
Why wasn¡¯t she telling me abo¡ªwait, she had a decent point there¡ªw-wait again! I wasn¡¯t gonna insult Sierra just because she told me I should! I mean, that would defeat the whole point of an insult, if the insult-ee actually wanted it! Sierra! I shouted mentally. You are amazing!
¡­It¡¯s actually disturbing how well that worked. It seems my experiments have gone too far. You, Taipha, are the most gullible cat I¡¯ve had the pleasure of tormenting to date.
¡­ YOU ARE THE WORST, MEANEST, MOST-DEVIL-IN-PLAIN-SIGHT-EST¡ª
Hey, hey! That¡¯s harsh. Just ¡°say,¡± in your head, the name of the item while visualizing that item in front of you. Phew, it¡¯s getting hard to think with you insulting me so cruelly! It definitely doesn¡¯t feel like a first-grade playground in here! I better get myself to safety!
WILL YOU STOP INSULTING ME? I THOUGHT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE MY SAVIOR OR SOMETHING!
Error: Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata is unavailable. She is not accepting messages at this time.
That was simultaneously among the worst, the most bizarre, and the only conversations I¡¯d ever had. Thinking back, that meant all the conversations I¡¯d ever had were bad. Even the ones with other cats, if those even counted. The System wasn¡¯t gonna bother to tell me what my item actually was, but at least Sierra had told me, uh¡­something. What was it? Oh, right, visualize and say its name. Wait¡­could I even visualize it? Back in the burrow, I¡¯d known that I was grabbing a box. But I¡¯d been so focused on getting the box that I hadn¡¯t registered its texture or material, or even really its weight. All I had in my head was the shape of it. And not even the colors, since I¡¯d found it underground. Well, I did have something. I had a mental image of a dark, solid, rectangular box slightly smaller than a prairie dog. Hopefully that would be enough. Now, here came the hard part. How do I say this item¡¯s name? Treasure, colon, question-mark question-mark question-mark? ¡­Poof! A boxy thing half my size plunked onto the carpet. It wasn¡¯t a crate, though. I peered over the edge of the ottoman and saw what seemed to be a chunk of hard, dull, reinforced cardboard. Ah, hold on¡­ Twisting my head sideways, I could see the edge: aging, orange-with-age-and-dirt paper. With a cover. So it was a book! Too bad I apparently couldn¡¯t read it¡­not even with Stage 1 Human Language. I mean, I looked at the shapes on the cover and knew they were letters¡ªthe same kinds of shapes I¡¯d been reading in my System¡ªyet all their curved lines swam in my mind like lost fish. Could I only read the System¡¯s boxes so easily because they were a part of me? I hopped off the edge and pawed the book open anyway. It was my Treasure, so I¡¯d try my best to decipher it. Then I flinched. Not because of the book, but because somehow the green girl had snuck up behind me! It made perfect sense that she¡¯d hear and see this commotion, but I¡¯d been hoping that she¡¯d been so caught up in her book that she wouldn¡¯t notice¡ªor so adamant about ignoring me that she¡¯d choose to stick to the bit. She was standing with her torso arched over my head. Her shadow stretched over me and the book, and her face showed that same severe expression. She eyed this new book like it was the root of all evil. For all I knew, maybe it was. But I called it back into Inventory, because she was the last person I¡¯d trust with it. Poof¡ªthe book was gone again. Her eyes darted back to me. I decided to stare into them. Then her right eye started¡­twitching. ¡°What are you?¡± she whispered. Wha¡­ W-wow. Two out of three cabin girls were afraid of me. Of weak, Level 3 me! I took that as a compliment. The green girl straightened herself up, then dusted off her pants as if she¡¯d gotten them dirty just by basking in my presence. As she did this, her gaze wandered and she noticed what I¡¯d done to the ottoman. Her eyes widened when she saw the scratch marks. Balling up her fists, she stormed off to the other side of the room (making a tension-deflating U-turn around the cotton-white bed) and banged the window open. On the other side was the black and surprisingly gusty night. Without a word, she pointed straight out the window. She wanted me gone. Eh, no problem. I knew what to do here. I just put on my biggest, cutest eyes and whined: ¡°Meaaaow¡­¡± The green girl pointed. Kept pointing until the wind started to make her shiver. And then she quietly closed the window again. Trying to be stoic, but I knew she was defeated. A mumble escaped from her lips¡ªtoo quiet and fast for me to catch the words¡ªjust before she left the room and swooped down the stairs. Five minutes later, she was back with warm rabbit stew and a bowl of water. Maybe this girl was the best of the three. She used a real bowl! 11. Tussle in the Trees I woke up and pawed the gunk out of my eyes. I¡¯d spent the night under that green girl¡¯s bed. Say what you want about her¡ªshe did, in the end, have a servant-like respect for me. Hiding just underneath, next to the blanket¡¯s edge with its frilly trim, I was only barely touched by sunlight. The rest of the room practically glowed. Of course it would, with all those whites and creams and pastel colors in it. I crawled out and hopped onto the bed, taking stock of everything. Incredibly, the girl was still here, and not on the bed, having fallen asleep in the rocking chair. So much for lace and decorum. Her hand was still holding the book. I wished I knew what that book was called¡­maybe it was something embarrassing. Surely I wasn¡¯t the only one worthy of embarrassment in the whole cosmos. Nah. I¡¯d have to let go of that hope, since I couldn¡¯t read the words anyway. Or¡­would I? I decided to try something. First, I¡¯d check my own item stash to see if anything there had changed. Inventory!
Spellbook: Old Wembley¡¯s Basic Fire Magic by Sir Wembley III
Thirty-three years old. Heavily rain-damaged.
Oh, that was disappointing. Sure, it was cool that it was a magic book, but the title and description didn¡¯t tell me anything about its contents beyond the bare basics. So there was no solving my book¡¯s deeper mysteries. But I could solve different ones! I crept to the corner of the bed, getting as close as I could to the rude girl. Then I stared at her book and mentally shouted, Inventory! Poof!
Book: Teatime in the Tropics ¨C A Romantic Whodunit by Myrtle Farcrock
A common trade paperback about plucky middle-aged women.
Uh, hm. Well. That was less funny than I was hoping, but still a bit unexpected? I un-Inventory¡¯d the book and let it fall onto the bed. She¡¯d probably assume that she put it there right before going to sleep. Nothing to worry about. ¡­Wow, was Ms. Prim-Perfect-Posture snoring? I hopped off the bed and made my way to the closed door before realizing that I didn¡¯t have opposable thumbs. Now that I¡¯d slept, I certainly had the SP to Morph¡­but not the willpower. I¡¯d do it if, and only if, I had no other way out. Slinking back onto the bed, I decided to instead get a better look at the door¡ªtry and figure out if this lady had locked us in here. Sure enough, there was a big dramatic keyhole. And I was not prepared to prance around this room just to figure out whether the key was in her pocket or a drawer or what. Instead, I¡¯d just do what she herself had wanted me to: jump out the window. Quietly, and all the while praising myself for my dexterity, I pushed the window open. It had been closed, but not latched shut, and while it taxed my Attack to slide the glass pane up, first with my paws and then with my back, I felt proud of the effort. Then, when the opening was just high enough, I put all four feet on the ledge and, with one final look back at my strange, begrudging savior, I dropped. I didn¡¯t get straight to the ground in one go. The second floor was smaller than the first, so a bit of roof stuck out underneath it, making a nice platform. I bounded off that and onto grass that glittered almost white in the sun. And then I sprinted off. Now that it was daytime again, I felt so excited to be free from a stuffy room, to be out in the warm air, to be¡ªto be a cat! Though the sky was overcast, a whitish-gray light shone down over everything. After I¡¯d gotten some distance from the cabin, I ran circles around birches and licked myself all over. I let myself fall in the grass, then roll and roll and just keep rolling. This was a new body, after all! Why hadn¡¯t I fooled around this way earlier?! But I was interrupted. Of course. It was still the wild, after all. I rolled onto my feet and locked eyes with a raccoon. Like facing the devil. It felt like fate, is what I¡¯m saying¡ªa showdown with destiny. And destiny, as a reminder, is super-powerful. Even if one raccoon couldn¡¯t take me, it probably knew four more. Or dozens. The raccoon growled, then glowed with white aura. Their whole body flared and steamed, just like the beetles did. Only I had a feeling that this enemy was boosting Attack; their stance was aggressive. And their little teeth looked sharp! But I had sharp teeth too. And I had Swipe, which I activated. My claws could meet the challenge. The raccoon lunged. I darted around them, then hid behind a nearby dogwood. I let the raccoon pace a little, size me up. I wondered: would it be best to leave? And watch the whole gang of raccoons target you? I practically hissed back at myself. Well, maybe as a human. You don¡¯t need that! You just relied on human ¡°kindness¡± last night, and it made you feel like a loser, didn¡¯t it? In some ways¡­ That raccoon was still pacing. I picked up a whiff of their scent and realized this really was one of the bunch that¡¯d taken over my tree. That hit my heart where it was already wounded. Practically speaking, killing this raccoon before they could get back to their group would send a message. If they found the body, it would tell them that I was strong, I wasn¡¯t messing around, and I wanted my tree back. I could use the time in between to prepare myself, Level Up, try to explore this whole place and get the jump on them¡­ But more than that, it was a way to justify my feelings: my frustration at needing humans and goddesses to give me a leg up. I was aware of this reason, faintly. But only faintly. The raccoon jumped again, and I happily raced back into battle. Battle was a thing I understood. As they came at me, I activated Swipe. I reared onto my hind legs and clawed the raccoon with all five aura-steaming blades. That was the good thing about going second: they were first to move, but I was first to react. The raccoon screamed, blood running down their side. But that didn¡¯t stop them. They kept up their offensive full-throttle, tearing into me with their own claws.
HP 70% (42/60)
SP 67% (30/45)
Now we were wrestling, and we fell onto our sides in a whirling, tearing ball of carnage. I reinforced my claws with a second Swipe, hoping not to need a third, and the raccoon glowed with newfound fury and strength. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
HP 42% (25/60)
SP 33% (15/45)
My HP and SP continued to drop, but I knew theirs did too. Finally, after taking a vicious hook in the throat, I realized how low my HP had gotten and knew this was it.
HP 12% (7/60)
SP 33% (15/45)
This had to be my final move. I had to change tactics, or else this¡¯d be the end of me. ¡ªHoly crap, had I gone full offense? Why had I gone full offense? As we slammed together against a tree trunk, my mind worked in a flash: Okay, focus on the present. What can I do? Maybe my next Swipe would finish them, but there was no counting on that. What about a different physical move? Like a headbutt? That would be cool in theory, but way too impractical to try here. I could become humanoid. That would certainly confuse them. But again my feelings got in the way, and this time I was a touch more aware of it. I knew that there were only two reasons I was set against using Morph here: physical discomfort and petty revenge. It all looked hopeless¡­and it would¡¯ve been if not for the lesson that rude green-haired lady had taught me. Not last night, but that morning. Inventory! Spellbook! I forget the name, but it¡¯s a spellbook! Poof¡ªa weather-damaged old tome clunked the raccoon in the head. They screeched, pulling their claws out of my hide in total surprise and sudden forehead pain. I whirled myself far away from their clutches and sprang away. Only after three good bounds did I let myself pause and look back. The raccoon was definitely not dead. Maybe they were dying? Those wounds looked nasty. Well, not the book wound. In hindsight, that must¡¯ve only made the raccoon scream in surprise, not pain, because no way paperbacks were that heavy. In any case, the raccoon was moaning softly and struggling to get back on their feet. Get out of the way, I thought. With a sudden burst of pride, I wanted my book back.
Victory!
Whuh? I meant, ¡°huh¡± minus the ¡°w¡±?!
Level Up!
Lv. 3 ¡ú Lv. 4
EXP: 19% (114/600)
HP 100% (80/80)
SP 100% (65/65)
ATK 12 (+1!)
INT 6
DEF 8
WIS 5 (+1!)
SPD 9
Well, cool! Pleasant surprise! Except the potential loss of the book. And the fact that the raccoon wasn¡¯t dead yet and therefore could chase me to the ends of the earth. But still good!
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
As you can see, you don¡¯t have to kill to gain Experience. You¡¯ll also gain it by pummeling your opponent to within an inch of their life! Usually they¡¯ll faint, at that point.
As if on cue, the raccoon several meters away from me fainted from blood loss. Something I didn¡¯t have to worry about, since my wounds had spontaneously healed and I only had some nasty fur-blood to show for it. ¡­Neat, the book was free! I ran over and snapped it up into my Inventory again. Then, on a whim, I tried Inventory-ing the raccoon too. Didn¡¯t work.
Another way to gain Experience is by defeating people in friendly competition. This can happen when two warriors agree to the terms beforehand.
Interesting¡­useless, but interesting.
You never know.
And my Wisdom had gone up. That hadn¡¯t escaped me. I was on my way up. I had always known I was impetuous, but now I was starting to catch myself¡ªto think about the way I thought. That made sense, right? For me, it did. Slightly. But the only implications of that I cared about right now were the Stat-based, immediate-survival-based ones. Maybe someday, someday soon, my SP growth would outpace my Skill costs and I could truly get comfortable using my arsenal.
New Skill!
Leap: Jump farther and faster than normal.
Cool! That seemed self-explanatory. I liked the idea of having more options for movement, not just power-ups. But maybe I could see more info on all of my Skills? Maybe even how much they cost? Skills? Skills huh? Help Skills? One of those commands apparently worked, because a new box showed up.
Skills
Swipe SP Cost: 20 Effect: Attack with powered-up claws. Leap SP Cost: 12 Effect: Jump farther and faster than normal.
Slowly my SP was creeping up past Swipe¡¯s needs. Where before I could only have used Swipe three times on a full charge, now I could use it¡­still three times! Okay, not great, but getting somewhere. I was glad that Leap didn¡¯t cost as much. In fact, I could use it¡­uh¡­five times in a row! I hoped I¡¯d done the math right. I gave myself a few more moments to sit and take a breather. Birds¡¯ wings flapped in the boughs above. With my wounds now gone¡ªand a lump sum of Experience that indicated I had just defeated a raccoon at a higher Level than anything I¡¯d fought before¡ªI walked off swaggering! Until it occurred to me that I¡¯d also done that thing I did when I was chasing the dragonfly: completely lose track of where I was. Map.
Current Area: Taipha¡¯s Home Base (S.3C)
Woah. I was actually close to the top of this place¡ªI mean, the north edge of it! No point stopping now. I walked, then ran, then galloped and hop-skipped northward to discover the next part of the Vencian Wood. There was so much out there that needed exploring, and the thought made me ecstatic. 12. The Ecstasy of Magic and Glamour Don¡¯t use Leap, don¡¯t use Leap¡ª But I couldn¡¯t help myself. My back legs flared with a surge of white energy and I burst out from the trees like a firecracker. Then I promptly tumbled, head over heels, into a stump.
HP 95% (76/80)
SP 82% (53/65)
Oh, whatever! It was worth it! And I swore that next time I saw a rough battle coming, I¡¯d run instead of fighting back! After I¡¯d picked myself up and shaken myself off, I turned to see how far that Leap had taken me. I¡¯d jumped over a bit of a cliff, actually¡ªa one-meter-high slope of clumpy, reddish-orange dirt. So in a single bound I could go about one meter forward, I guessed? I dunno. I wasn¡¯t good at triangulating distances. Around that ruddy slope were the same familiar trees. But north of it¡ªand behind me¡ªwas a striking smell and a noticeably cooler temperature. I knew where I was without even turning around: a pond! I jumped onto that stump I¡¯d just clonked into to see it. This view wasn¡¯t quite as vast and unencumbered as the views I¡¯d gotten of the Rabbitfoot Hills. Trees were everywhere¡ªincluding some towering, glistening magnolias and bluish spruces. But it was still magnificent, and probably moreso. Not far from me, the silvery pond stretched way off to my left and right, dotted with waterfowl and even, for a second, a deer who¡¯d stopped to drink. Even under this overcast sky, the water was so luminous that it almost hurt to look directly at it. Such a natural wonder had to have some Treasure, didn¡¯t it? Huh? ¡­The System didn¡¯t respond. I guessed there was nothing nearby that it considered important, then. Come to think of it, why had it labeled the fantasy equivalent of a trade paperback as ¡°a Treasure¡±?
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
Your System won¡¯t detect everything. For one thing, it didn¡¯t detect the bowl of milk, which I¡¯m sure you considered a treasure.
Hrm¡­ I guessed that was true. More exciting than Treasure, though, was the idea of messing around with what appeared to be a flock of ducks. Two dozen of the prettiest ducks I¡¯d ever seen were out there, bobbing casually next to frogs on lily pads, dipping into the water for food. Their eyes were a stunning, scary red, the same color as their beaks. Ornate patterns of brown, green, blue, and even flecks of gold around the necks ran down their feathers. One problem, though: they were at the far edge of the pond. And there was no chance even my Leap could clear that gap. And no I wasn¡¯t swimming! I darted up to the shoreline to scope things out better. My toes enjoyed the sand-like gravel there, but they couldn¡¯t stay long¡ªI had to sweep along the whole edge of this pond. To my left (going west), the pond extended far away, past the huge magnolias. To my right (going east), though, I could see the curve! I could sprint clear around that bend. It¡¯d be a bit of a journey, but one I was amply prepared to make. I stretched, wriggled, and then¡­Lea¡ª No, I wasn¡¯t that foolhardy. I¡¯d save Leap for a more desperate moment¡­or maybe for when I was within range of the ducks. But I hadn¡¯t gained all that Speed for nothing. Kicking up a respectable spray of gravelly splash, I took off. I didn¡¯t stay right next to the water. I decided to sprint through the trees and just keep that pond on my left side. It twinkled through the foliage¡ªand often in my eyes¡ªas I went. I wasn¡¯t thinking of anything except my goal. All my thoughts were cast aside, but more deliberately this time. Instead of chasing a dragonfly because my one-track mind was out of control, I was chasing these ducks because I¡¯d willingly surrendered myself. And the single-minded focus was perfect, because nothing was chasing me this time around. ¡ªWait, did I just pass what I thought I¡¯d passed? A blur of reddish-pink, almost magenta, kind of in the shape of a¡ª I stopped mid-run. A wave of shame came over me, shame for having cut the hunt short. But I promised I¡¯d get back to it as soon as I¡­ I turned around. That reddish-pink shape was a while behind me. Now I was about halfway to my destination¡ªI¡¯d rounded the pond¡¯s eastern curve¡ªbut the weird shape was still along that straight-ish part of the coastline. Thinking back, that shape had been¡­ This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Sigh. No, it wasn¡¯t the pink girl¡¯s hair or anything. It was a tent. On my way here, I¡¯d sprinted past a rectangle-triangley shape. Looking back that way, I could even see glimpses of it through the wind-tossed leaves. While I was reeling from that disappointment¡­ Snap! Huge talons grabbed me, five on either side. I was lifted helplessly off the ground and sucked into the grip of a huge, predatory¡­oh, it was her. Not the pink girl, but the blue one, wearing a white sunhat, a short skirt, and some incredibly high boots. There was something hanging from a leather strap around her neck, something big and clunky. It struck a chord with my memories, but only a vanishingly faint one. She nearly suffocated me with her hug¡ªand then she actually kissed my hairy skull! I wished I could have said she was weird, but this was typical housecat treatment. The only weird part was how little fear she had of feral cat germs. And, well¡­apparently she was no longer afraid of me. That sucked. It seemed like her fear of getting bitten was far outweighed by her amusement at me, uh, being a cat. Groan. The witch kneeled and released me. Naturally I started running away. Immediately she grabbed me again. She held me tight, and this time she knew better than to let go. ¡°Aww, sweet baby¡­¡± she cooed. When she talked to me, she was slow and deliberate. I appreciated that, even though I was positive she was just using baby talk and, therefore, had little or no respect for me. ¡°You¡¯re going to help me today, aren¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Mraow!¡± I roared. She jumped to her feet. ¡°I knew you would!¡± Well, I tried saying ¡°no.¡± Stage 1 Human Language wasn¡¯t that helpful, was it? Clutching me every step of the way, the blue girl brought me closer to the water¡¯s edge. We ended up behind a bush. ¡°Okay,¡± she whispered, ¡°what do you see out there on the water?¡± Frogs. Lots of frogs on lily pads. But no ducks¡­ ¡°Do you see any blue ones?¡± she continued. I looked across the crowd again. All of them seemed green with dabs of black to me, but maybe I was missing something¡­ Wait, I couldn¡¯t say words. Why was she even asking me? And why was I actually trying? The witch took one of my paws softly in her hand. She squeezed the paw pads for a second. Urgh. I sighed deeply. Then she ¡°pointed¡± my paw toward the frogs so it poked just outside of the bush. ¡°I see a blue one! There in the middle!¡± Huh. She was right, and it was just in the place you¡¯d think I would¡¯ve looked first. But the blue tint was so subtle¡ªless like ocean and more like turquoise. At this stage she had me hanging securely, and surprisingly comfortably, in one arm. Now she raised her free arm high above the bush, flipping it palm-up. What looked like crumbs and woodchips fell out, carrying an odd minty scent. But only for a fraction of a second before¡ª A frog and lily pad zoomed onto her hand! Now she looked like some kind of swamp waitress. Laughing wildly, the blue girl ran out of the bushes and up to the shore so suddenly that it was a miracle we didn¡¯t all fall. She found a clear, duckless, frogless part of the pond to set the frog¡¯s lily pad in. I noticed that the pad had a pretty pinkish-white lotus flower on its edge. And that flower would make a great prop for the photos she was about to take. With her now-frogless hand, she wrangled the object hanging from her neck. It was bulky, and she still had a cat in her arm, but a determined and carefree mind can do anything. She grabbed it. As she began to use the object, I discovered what it was: a Vencian camera. It really wasn¡¯t all that different from models on Earth, give or take one or two hundred years and a change from wood to plastic. And wow, she was dexterous! The way she flicked that camera into different positions with only one hand, and with me in her arm, not to mention the mere milliseconds between each camera flash and all the angles she got in¡­honestly, it was like watching a force of nature. Not that I would ever admit that aloud, even if I could. After each shot, she praised herself: ¡°Ooh! Nice one! Cool! Two more like that! No, three more!¡± Two minutes into it, though, I felt her grip weakening. I took the opportunity to wrench myself free, and dropped onto the gravel. For a moment it seemed like she wouldn¡¯t even realize I was out¡ªlike she¡¯d be forever absorbed in her own narcissistic photo land. But then she froze up and gasped. ¡°Baby!¡± she cried, with the voice of an outraged parent. ¡°Don¡¯t do that!¡± ¡°Mraow!¡± I cried back. I could¡¯ve run away. Instead, I decided to position myself right in front of her, next to the frog on the lily pad. (That frog hadn¡¯t flinched once during this entire ordeal. I admired them for that.) Then I reached my paws over to that lily pad. Slowly, because this would require some delicate moves. Using my claws and every ounce of my own dexterity, I plucked the lotus free and set it, like a crown, on my own head. Then I looked into the witch¡¯s face. ¡°Meow-w,¡± I pleaded. She arched her eyebrows up in concern. Then her expression softened, again like a parent¡¯s, delighted at the silly thing her supposed ¡°baby¡± had done. But then, eventually, she understood. She pocketed her camera and patted her bluish-green hair with her hands. ¡°You mean my friend, with the pink hair?¡± she asked. ¡°Ma-aow.¡± Her face changed to a look of horror! ¡°You like her more than me?!¡± Well, duh. ¡°Meow!¡± She pouted, huffed, and kicked the gravel, but soon she calmed down about it. Then she kneeled down to my level and told me, ¡°Her name is Reed. She¡¯s not at home right now.¡± Playfully, she added, ¡°But that¡¯s her special spot. I swore I wouldn¡¯t tell anyone where she is¡­¡± I got whiny. ¡°Mrea-a-aow!¡± I yelped, making my eyes big and watery. ¡°Okay, okay!¡± she said. Then she gave me a big, long-winded explanation of where Reed was, accompanied by a flurry of hand gestures, and I barely understood any of it. Why¡¯d she have to give up the baby talk now? I was lost the moment she started explaining! Frantically I pored through all my mental knowledge of human gesturing¡ªand realized I had no cue for ¡°slow down¡± or even ¡°say that again.¡± And even if I had, what were the chances that I could exploit that knowledge¡ªwithout having to shapeshift and potentially scare her out of her wits first? At the end of it all, I groaned slightly, and the lotus took that all-too-opportune moment to fall off. Judging by the smile that curled on her lips, she thought it was a purr. She took a moment to simply look at me and smile. ¡°Well,¡± she said, ¡°now I know you don¡¯t like getting hugged so much.¡± Great! So at least we¡¯d covered some ground today. She reached out to me, but instead of rubbing me on the head as I expected, she offered me her fist. I smelled it. It had more of the pond¡¯s scent than hers¡ªthinking back to the deceptively colored tent, she definitely must¡¯ve been camping out here¡ªbut I did appreciate the thoughtful move. After a surprisingly quick ¡°bye,¡± the still-nameless witch began to walk away. But I wasn¡¯t going to let her leave just yet. Not without a gift. She seemed like she¡¯d need it more than me. Poof! Old Wembley¡¯s Basic Fire Magic landed in the dirt. It spooked her, and she squealed. As she turned around, her eyes fell on the book, then widened. ¡°Did you¡­you did?¡± ¡°Meow.¡± ¡°No way!¡± She trotted over and picked it up. Then praise spilled out of her mouth! ¡°A spellbook? For me? Cool! Wow, does this have¡ª? This is so¡ª!¡± I sat up straight and tall with pride. This was going even better than I could¡¯ve dreamed! It had to be a pretty rare book. ¡°I think I have this one already!¡± Or¡­not? ¡°But not with the same cover.¡± Oh, okay. ¡°Or with blood on it!¡± The raccoon got blood on the cover? Wait, why¡¯d she sound excited about that part?! ¡°I can¡¯t¡­I can¡¯t read this¡­¡± When she opened the book, clumps of pages stayed stuck together and a few even disintegrated. ¡°Uh¡­¡± I couldn¡¯t be around her anymore. With another Leap, I ran off. 13. A Higher Place This¡¯d be fun. Ducks swam in peaceful circles by the edge of the pond. Little did they know that I was running toward them with the speed of a freight train. Splashingly, I sprang into the shallows, sending the ducks squawking and flying! They went up and away in a big cloud of feathery fear. All except one! All the better for me to pounce. The one duck that couldn¡¯t get away in time must¡¯ve been old, sick, or injured¡ªthat¡¯s the way it usually goes in the wild. They were still flapping and lurching, half-submerged in the pond, when I drilled my claws into their back. Together we fell in the water. Just the shallows, thankfully. In our flurry, the duck turned toward me, readied their bill, and, with a flare of white energy, clocked me in the head.
HP 70% (56/80)
SP 63% (41/65)
I may have been a little overconfident here. How high was this duck¡¯s Level? What right did ducks of all animals have to be so strong? And yet I didn¡¯t give up. I just grew more relentless. See, I figured that since this duck had been unable to fly with the rest, it couldn¡¯t have had much stamina, despite its clearly substantial Attack Stat. If I could just kill them really, really fast, I¡¯d reap some major rewards. Higher-Level foes meant higher Experience, after all. While dodging the duck¡¯s slinging bill, left and right, I dug into their hide even more with a Swipe.
SP 32% (21/65)
Then my mind received a minor revelation¡­a ¡°cheat code¡± that would allow me to instantly score a finishing blow. Was this the true power of Wisdom¡­?! I chomped the duck on the neck, and with a twist¡ª Crick. I won¡¯t get too grisly. Suffice it to say, that duck went into my Inventory seconds later. I checked it out.
Pink Lotus Flower
This plant can grow even in muddy water. Hence, many humans see it as a symbol of purification and rebirth.
Wood Duck Corpse
Nourishing, but won¡¯t heal HP or SP.
¡°Wood duck¡± ¡­so that was the type with all the pretty colors. Fleeting questions showed up in my mind¡ªwhat was that locked ¡°Meat Locker¡± thing my System had mentioned? and was it gross? it sounded gross¡ªbut left as soon as a new box came.
Level Up!
Lv. 4 ¡ú Lv. 5
EXP: 13% (99/750)
HP 100% (105/105)
SP 100% (80/80)
ATK 15
INT 7
DEF 11 (+1!)
WIS 8
SPD 12 (+1!)
I was surprised to see my Defense Stat get a bonus for the first time. Then again, in the incredibly brief climb from Level 4 to Level 5, my defining combat moment had been a beak in the face. Ergo, Defense boost. In hindsight I wished I¡¯d done something Wisdom-related instead, but hey, a Stat up was a Stat up. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. No matter. There were way more pressing matters to attend to. For one thing, I had to get out of this water! Ninety percent of me was dripping wet, and that was eighty-five percent more than initially intended. Though I rolled out of the shallows and shook myself out, I felt soaked down to the bone marrow. Urgh. Give it time, Taipha, give it time. For another thing, that blue girl had given me a lot to think about. Now that it¡¯d been a few minutes, my mind had caught up with it all. That witch had said the magenta-haired girl was named Reed. Which suggested that she owned that place my System called ¡°Reed¡¯s Cabin.¡± Good, because she seemed the most even-tempered out of all of the cabin people. She wouldn¡¯t cut me a raw deal, right? The witch also unloaded a ton of directions on me, and really fast, as if that would help me find her! But the funny thing was¡­my mind was catching up on those directions now. Here and now in the glimmering woods, I remembered bits and pieces. And while a few of those bits were three- and four-syllable words I didn¡¯t even have the vocabulary for yet and thus couldn¡¯t decipher, some of them were useful and distinct, like¡­ ¡°Mountain¡±? There were those here? Had she really said that? Then there were her gestures. She¡¯d definitely pointed, and multiple times at that¡­always toward the west. That settled it. I was tracking down Reed to find out who she looked like once and for all! Quest or no Quest, nothing could keep me from this adventure. A tall, sturdy spruce stood right by the coast, reaching up even higher than its neighbors. I hopped on, latched on, and climbed. On my way, I braced myself against the stubbly, surprisingly-close-to-sharp blue-green bits and took special care not to step in a woodpecker¡¯s hollow. Sunlight tingled against my drying fur. I almost felt like I was climbing into heaven. And then I reached the top. Since the tree was too lush with prickly green stuff to hold by the bark, I hugged the prickles. Up here, the breeze made the tree wave slightly. It didn¡¯t trouble me at all. I was too enchanted by the view. I was seeing everything. Well, that was what it seemed like. In reality, I was seeing a mere fraction of the Vencian Wood, and I wasn¡¯t even seeing over a lot of the trees. Still, it was more than enough to make my heart thrill. Toward the south were all the places I¡¯d seen before¡ªmostly swaddled in trees. Those had to be hiding the Rabbitfoot Hills. And I suspected those same hills continued northward, and even curved around this pond. I could tell because the expanse going north rose higher into grassier, more dramatic ridges, so far away that they looked blue. Beyond that? No idea. That was the limit of my view. But northwest of me was the place I would call Reed¡¯s Mountain. (At least until I could give it something more creative.) The silvery pond with the mirrory surface trickled out at the foot of a tree-dotted peak. The peak stood alone. It was cloaked in dappling evergreens until, toward the top, it was planes of grass on jagged gray stone. And it wasn¡¯t even all that far off. I did some extremely approximate cat-math in my head. With one full day¡¯s trip, I reckoned, I could reach it. That mountain was enormous. I wondered if I¡¯d even be able to find Reed there, with all the ledges and caverns and huts it had to had. Still, I¡¯d call it Reed¡¯s Mountain, and I hoped my System would follow suit. I brought my thoughts back down to me, and down to earth. I was no longer soaking. The earth was pretty far down, meters and meters, certainly far enough that I was scared to make the jump. That was okay. I¡¯d just climb down. ¡­Um¡­if cats could sweat much, I would¡¯ve started sweating at that point. Climbing down this spruce while keeping my body upright would require me to use my claws in an uncomfortable, unintuitive way. My claws and ankles were designed to arc downward and pull my body upward, not vice-versa. So the logical alternative would be climbing with my body upside-down and that was just plain terrifying. I heard a new cry in the distance and swiveled my head. A bird, a predator, was arcing around the mountain. Then another one swooped up from behind it. I tensed. A duck I could handle¡ªbarely. A raptor, maybe not. Gritting my teeth, I turned my body upside-down and swatted back spruce needles. Urgh, all the blood in my body was going to my head. Now the vertigo decided to kick in. I kept telling myself, Just be methodical. Nothing to it. Left front, right back¡­right front, left back¡­ You¡¯ve got it. But according to my screaming heart, no, I didn¡¯t have it. I was moving at a snail¡¯s pace down the side of a tree so tall that every little gust of wind made the whole thing wave. And I couldn¡¯t even see the bottom, thanks to all the prickling branches. Hm. Prickling branches. That gave me an idea. Spruce branches were longer, or at least fanned out further sideways, toward the bottom. And there were so many! If I got myself onto one branch, I could drop down onto the next one pretty confidently even if I couldn¡¯t see it underneath me. Alrighty, then! I flung myself onto the nearest one. It broke instantly. I squeaked. Now I was falling, my paws wrapped around nothing. And I didn¡¯t fall safely on the next branches down because they were just as flimsy. I was passing through them like curtains. Too far from the tree trunk to simply reach out and grab it and dazzled by the sight of so many prickles whizzing up past me, I twisted and turned pointlessly. With every little scrape and bop of a needle, my HP chipped off.
HP 84% (88/105)
This had to end sometime¡ªand the branches had to get sturdier at some point. I let my body obey its instinct to point my legs straight down. Then I trusted some big, strong branch to come and wallop me in the torso. It¡¯d sting, but at least it would end this nightmare. Then I hit it! The branch I¡¯d been waiting for! I bounced off like a ragdoll and went hissing down to earth.
HP 65% (68/105)
Then I hit the ground. On my back, no less.
HP 42% (44/105)
No wonder wild cats looked down on city cats. 14. A Time for Blood?
Current Location: Mirror Pond, East (S.C2)
HP 42% (44/105)
SP 100% (80/80)
No way was I sprinting toward Reed¡¯s Mountain at full trot. Not in this condition. Now it was a journey. Now things were serious. I was in this for the long haul, far from any security the cabin might offer. I¡¯d have to rely on stealth again, along with whatever defensive strategies I could cook up. There went my untamed afternoon joy. But it wasn¡¯t all bad. I prowled into the shadows. Now, instead of childish pleasure, I felt determination. It came to me like an old friend, tapping me on the shoulder, pointing out the best paths through the timber¡ªthe ones with the least light, the least life. No, I wasn¡¯t going to run. I¡¯d take my sweet time, and my victory would be all the sweeter for it.
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 10% (3/30)
Current Location: Mirror Pond, West (S.B2)
Soon I¡¯d crossed that invisible border between an old, discovered part of the Map and a new one. But there was no great change from one to the next. That body of water my System called Mirror Pond was still far to my left. And the world was still tree-clogged. Well, there was one change: the world was getting rockier. Gray, squarish stones appeared in my path. Was it just me, or did they look¡­man-made? And did I dare stop next to a particularly huge one? Yes I did. They were in the shade, and my ears hadn¡¯t picked up on anything much, besides baby birds in a nest high above. Sitting in a bit of a cluster, these could¡¯ve been blocks dropped by a titanic baby. The rock right in front of me was twice my height and length, and roughly L-shaped. It seemed to be made of several interlocking squares, which varied in size and made the result lumpy. Alright, maybe these things were actually designed by aliens (or avant-garde artists) because nothing about them seemed practical. Squinting, I made out hints of rust colors in the grayness. I pawed one of its many corners. It was blunt. The whole thing looked weathered, like rain had beaten down on it for years. I sniffed it. Hm, just an ordinary rock smell. I whacked it and it didn¡¯t move. My whack did disturb a little crowd of about a dozen ants along one edge of the stone, though. Ah, whatever. Wait. Experience! Free Experience!! I slammed both paws down on them.
EXP: 16% (121/750)
Oh yeah. That was why I hadn¡¯t killed many bugs lately: the tidal wave of rewards.
Treasure Detected!
Check your Map for the location.
Ah! A nice surprise. Could it have been something healing? Or thirst-quenching? I really didn¡¯t like the filmy taste of pond water. The Treasure was just northwest of me, basically on the path to Reed¡¯s Mountain. I was a little weak, but I couldn¡¯t resist. I walked away from the L-shaped stone and wended up a tree-shrouded hill. It wasn¡¯t long before I found something bizarre. As I reached the hilltop, my ears pricked for the strangest of reasons. Not from a sound, but from the lack of it. You know how your senses create, like, a 4D theater in your mind: ambient sound comes from all directions, all the time. Well, there was a ¡°bubble¡± right in front of this hilltop from which no sound came. Small, but noticeable. Hm¡­what could that have possibly been? I didn¡¯t have internal knowledge of nearly enough fantasy fiction to even have a clue. Maybe it was just noise-canceling devices around a traveler¡¯s campsite. I contemplated it for a moment¡ªand realized, with a hint of pride, that I was inadvertently working up my Wisdom. But something else broke my peace. Familiar sounds, and a very familiar smell, started up nearby. Rustling leaves and digging. Less than a meter away. Either I could run away, softly slink away, attack, or stay put and gather more information. Feeling defensive, I chose to stay put. Between me and the new sounds was nothing but a few scrawny, lavender-tinted pine trees. They wouldn¡¯t make for great cover if a creature looked directly at them, but as long as the animal was focused elsewhere, they¡¯d be decent. I tried them. Then I focused. Past the screen of young trees, on the ground, was a squirrel scratching through the dirt, paying me no attention. This didn¡¯t calm me down at all, of course. But if I waited long enough, maybe that squirrel would just run off and do their own¡­squirrel things. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Frozen, I watched as the rodent dug up and retrieved not an acorn, but a tiny square stone. What was with that? Huh?
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
I told you the System doesn¡¯t work that way! The tutorial stage is basically over! You can¡¯t just ¡°huh¡± anything you want in this world!
It worked with the milk, though!
Look, Taipha, now that you¡¯ve gotten your feet wet on Vencia, I am committed to letting you solve your own problems. To strengthen that commitment, I hereby give you a new Quest to fulfill:
Quest: Solve a Mystery¡ªThe Rust-Colored Stones
Progress: 0%
Darnit! The squirrel was nibbling on the stone now. In fact, they were really dedicated to eating it, no matter if it couldn¡¯t be chewed or even fit in their mouth. Apparently it was just a bit bigger than the average nut. The squirrel stood there trying to fit the stone in their mouth from every angle. Their chittering teeth clicked against it. Aww. Poor squirrel. Probably had like a tenth of my Intelligence. Or was this more like a Wisdom thing? Then the critter got a disgusted, crestfallen look on their face, like they were only now tasting the disgusting rock. They looked my way. It was a slow, deliberate look. It was strange. I didn¡¯t know squirrels were capable of moving as slowly as the rest of us. I blinked. Beyond that, I didn¡¯t move a muscle. A second later, that stone went flying toward my forehead. I¡¯d never seen a squirrel throw anything before in my two lives. I ducked, but the stone scraped the top of my head. Nothing serious, but¡ªow.
HP 36% (38/105)
SP 100% (80/80)
I hightailed it out of that scene. I went bounding down the other side of that hill, where the trees cleared and sunlight caught me in its full revealing splendor. I ran, but I could tell by the footsteps behind me that the squirrel had Speed to match or exceed mine¡ªand I didn¡¯t have the HP for it. Toward the bottom of the hill, I Leaped once for good measure. But I¡¯d forgotten just how much extra length and momentum that move gave me, so I landed with a hard jolt on a long, flat, squarey stone. I¡¯d landed on my feet, at least, but a sharp pain went through my paw pads and I feared they¡¯d just been peeled open.
HP 29% (30/105)
SP 81% (65/80)
I gave myself a moment to pause, listen out, and try and feel any little vibration in the air I could sense. Was the squirrel coming? Yes they were coming. They were running! Squirrels weren¡¯t even predators! Why did they care so much about me¡ªwas it the weirdness of the rocks, was this one friends with the squirrels from two nights ago, or were certain animals just evil here?! It was time to get a move on. But as I shifted my weight forward, the flat stone I was on tipped forward slightly¡ªand I remembered I should check the Map. Okay, now the Treasure was just east of here. Nothing above me except for a few branches and leaves. That meant¡­ I hopped off the rock and spotted a gap between it and the grass. I had a few seconds before the squirrel got here. Either I could run off, or I could try digging under this rock at the highest speed imaginable (with my aching paws!). Sticking my head under the rock and my tail in the air, I started pawing through the earth. Some would say it wasn¡¯t wise for me to choose to dig. I¡¯d tell them my slowly growing Wisdom Stat wasn¡¯t for nothing. When the squirrel was close, I felt its every step. Fear sparked adrenaline, and adrenaline made a bolt of logic hit me. Inventory. The big rock poofed away, and so did my fear that it might¡¯ve been too big or too weird to fit.
Mirror Pond Rock
A hunk of rock with apparent time-dilating properties.
That stopped the squirrel in their tracks. I turned to see them in the middle of the rock field with fur standing on end, their claws grabbing dirt in a grip of terror. At that point I could¡¯ve un-Inventory¡¯d the rock and let it bash the squirrel on the head, but¡­I felt bad for the squirrel. First the acorn that wasn¡¯t an acorn, and now this. Today just wasn¡¯t their day. ¡­Well, maybe I could knock them out for the Experience. I waggled the ache out of one of my paws, and then I flicked them in the head with the tiniest tick. They fell over with all their limbs stiff, just like those goats who faint when you scream at them. (Why do I know these things, Sierra?)
EXP: 80% (597/750)
So, so close¡­ I vowed to, for at least the next hour or so, slaughter every insect in my wake. I took a final probing look at the squirrel. They turned out to not be so corpse-stiff after all, their limbs relaxing at a gentle prod. But they were definitely out cold. At first I¡¯d figured that the boulder had magical properties that reached out and froze the squirrel. Now I revised that theory. The rock had ¡°time-dilating properties¡± but the boulder hadn¡¯t touched them, just the pebble. So I guessed they were just scared half to death. Also, what was a ¡°dilate¡±? Anyway, underneath that weird rock I¡¯d Inventoried was a little hole that I¡¯d made just a little bit bigger. Something was up with it. Not just the suspicious way that my rock had been hiding it, but the mist now rising up from it. I waved a paw over it¡ªno ill effects, not that I could tell. I leaned over it and sniffed. Didn¡¯t smell like anything. But it sure did look like the aura that wafted up from my Swipe-using claws. Except it had a tint to it. Where else had I seen tinted aura-smog? I thought back to the raccoon from this morning, who, in hindsight, had had the slightest bit of orange in their glow. But this was a different shade, closer to the rust beneath the gray of the rocks. It was very light, like watered-down paint, but somehow I knew it was¡­ The color of dried blood? I continued to paw at the mulch on the edge of the hole, gradually making it wider and wider. Once it got a little wider than me, I hit rock too hard to dig into. Down below was a dark and crimson tunnel, almost a void, that the sunlight could only barely touch. Even my enhanced eyes were having trouble seeing into it. A light-repelling, vision-eating trench? This was beginning to make me nervous. I held my breath and steeled myself. If I didn¡¯t get this Treasure now, I told myself, it¡¯d bother me almost as much as the d¨¦j¨¤ vu Reed gave me. Just hop in, hop out, and run! So I hopped in. ¡­Wait, those rocks messed with time, didn¡¯t they? Could slow a squirrel to mortal speed if they tried to eat them? What did that mean for where I was going?! 15. Trenchbound I thought I was hopping into a weird dark hole. Instead, I¡¯d plunged my front half into a narrow chasm that was tight and craggy enough that my hind legs and tail couldn¡¯t follow. The depths of the chasm went down, down¡­impossibly far down. Magic mist rose up through the gap, brushing past my face. I could barely see any detail around me, but what I made out reminded me of guts, of being a clot inside a single long artery. Or being a fellow clot. I had a neighbor. One thing stuck out (not my legs) in my vision. It was hard and steel and right in front of my face, crusted over with rock and wildgrass roots. It was directly in front of my head¡ªthe fur on my skull was touching it. Treasure! If only it wasn¡¯t so close to my face that my eyes were crossing and fisheye-lensing just to try and figure out what it was! Well, it was long and made of a weapon-like material. Possibly a sword? I¡¯d just established that the rock here was too hard for me to dig through it normally, but¡­maybe I could Swipe the Treasure out? I double-checked my Stats.
Stats
Taipha Orange Tabby
Lv. 5 EXP: 80% (597/750)
HP 29% (30/105)
SP 81% (65/80)
ATK 15
INT 7
DEF 11
WIS 6
SPD 11 (-1)
Debuffs: Time Dilation Effect: Gradually reduces Speed. Warning: while dilated Speed will never reach 0, it may reach otherwise-impossible fractions.
Ho yeah. Check that skyscraper-high Attack Stat out¡ª Oops¡­oh yeah, my Speed was going down. Was that what had happened to the squirrel from earlier? Gnawing on a rock that slowed them down¡ªimperceptibly at first, but more and more as they held the thing longer? A pretty horrible, useless item, I thought. Immediately I voided the weird magic-sucking rock from my Inventory¡ªan action I hadn¡¯t thought through in the slightest. PLUNK. The big flat chunk insta-wedged itself into the earth before me, driving insta-cracks through. I checked my Stats right as it left. Speed perked up immediately, not by a whole Stat point but by one of those impossible half-points. Even without checking, I could tell time around me had changed by the way all the magic mist around me seemed to slow a few degrees. But there was also insta-danger. My surroundings had split into rocky debris coming my way. Ack! Leap, maybe?!
SP 63% (50/80)
Magic pooled in my back legs¡ªterrifically useless. But critically, it was also pooling in my front ones. Not nearly as strongly, but it¡¯d do. Pushing off from the nearest ledge-like rock available, I took a rough, awkward spring backward and upward. I shrieked and rolled onto the grass as the rubble clattered and crashed inside the pit. Grass sunk in and heaved as if around a small sinkhole. Then things went still. A gentle white aura-mist trailed from it for a moment, and then¡­nothing. The pit was no longer hidden, but with the rubble now surrounding it, it appeared just as hard to enter as before. Just as hard for me to get into. After shaking myself off and taking a look around for potential enemies, I decided to try another one of those famous experiments which hadn¡¯t killed me yet. Inventory?
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
BEEP! Wrong! You can¡¯t just think ¡°Inventory¡± at an object you¡¯re not even next to!
What if the object¡¯s right under me?!
Okay, but it¡¯s separated from you by a bunch of rocks! Besides, you also need to have a decent conception of what the object is.
Isn¡¯t ¡°old Treasure sword¡± enough?
I don¡¯t make the rules, Taipha. ¡­I guess technically all the Arkmagi made them together, but at this point, I can¡¯t bend them.
Hmph. Maybe I could get Reed to come back here with me and bust the rocks up¡­ Maybe I could do it myself? I crouched down beside the rocks, looking back and forth from them to my own hardy claws, and considered a Swipe. But¡­no. I had bigger concerns than figuring out what was under this rockfall. Besides, with all that magical smoke, it could¡¯ve been more time-dying¡­time elation¡­slow¡­ers. And why would I want a sword? I didn¡¯t have arms ninety-nine percent of the time. Give me a set of cat gauntlets and I¡¯d try it¡­ Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. The stinging feeling currently throbbing in my front paws had started with my scratching landing from earlier, and only gotten worse with the backwards Leap up. That was my third reason not to risk it. The fourth one was the ominous howl I heard in the near distance. Woo, yay, my first Vencian sign of wolves. I moved on, setting my sights again on Reed¡¯s Mountain.
New Sub-Location Added!
Check your Map to find Treasure Rockfall.
*** For the rest of that afternoon, I moved slowly, carefully, and a little bit painfully. My front paws weren¡¯t just scuffed up. They were sending fresh currents of pain through my body with every step. And according to my System, those currents were adding up.
HP 26% (27/105)
A loss of 3 HP since I¡¯d last checked in the pit, and I was only losing more. I¡¯d never suffered this kind of gradual health loss before on Vencia, but then again, I¡¯d never gone a long time with open wounds. Or irritated ones that constantly made contact with the ground¡­and all its potential infections. My first move was to curve south and wash my front paws in the pond. For some reason, I expected to hear the creaking echoes of pondside insects¡ªcrickets, maybe¡ªbut all I heard was a chorus of unseen frogs hidden away under water and mud. Water hurt my paws more. And I knew enough about science now to know that it had its own contaminants. Augh¡­if it wasn¡¯t one thing, it was another. Did Leveling Up cure diseases? Kill mites? Anything like that? In any case, I had to get that next Level as soon as possible.
HP 25% (26/105)
There was, it seemed, one guaranteed way of stopping the chip damage of walking on wounds: using Morph. Then my front paws would just be hands. But that would wipe out my SP far faster than my HP was currently going. It would be a few minutes of relief at best. So what if it drove away birds and rodents? There was at least one wolf out here, a creature that even humans tended to fear. Plus, I would still have cat ears. Cats hated dogs. I stuck the idea of transformation in my cat back pocket¡ªadmittedly it could come in handy if I needed to flee quick. But my main mission right now was to pick off easy prey. I checked my SP against my Skills.
SP 63% (50/80)
Skills
Swipe SP Cost: 25 Leap SP Cost: 15
Okay, not bad. So I either had two Swipes, a Swipe and a Leap, or three Leaps in my arsenal. And my EXP:
EXP: 80% (597/750)
About 150 to go¡­ I hadn¡¯t been keeping good track of the EXP yield most of my victories gave me. About all I remembered was that insects gave me worse than nothing. At the hoot of an owl, I quietly retreated into the thickets. Though I¡¯d wanted to play hide-and-seek with those frogs, leaving the pondside was probably for the best anyway. One wrong move from me¡ªworse, a missed Swipe¡ªwould send those frogs jumping back into the water they knew so well. And what if it ended up dunking me in the water too? Horrible. Alert and evasive, I lingered just behind Mirror Pond for a minute before striding onward. The mysterious soundless bubble north of the pond was going to have to wait. I wasn¡¯t going to get caught in the clutches of a weirdo time void, not tonight. Along my path, I found many adversaries. All insects, naturally. Once I found a line of pill bugs crawling along my path. I got down next to it, could almost feel the little roly-polies with my whiskers. Fearless, I reached my mouth around and ate a whole bunch of them. Dauntless, I smacked the rest wildly with the knees of my front legs as if it were a big game of Whack-a-Mole. Then it was over. The pill bugs were all dead, escaped, or crunchy. I realized, too late, that I¡¯d definitely gotten overexcited. First of all, ow my aching legs. Even the leg parts of the legs were remarkably sore, probably from all the falling-through-acres-of-needles I¡¯d been doing today. And that was remarkably sad, since I was deliberately keeping my paw pads away from combat just now. Second: where was my Experience at?
EXP: 91% (681/750)
HP 16% (17/105)
SP 63% (50/80)
That HP! Th-this was so irritating! It was hard to keep my anger in check, but I had to for the sake of stealth. I held back a scream and replaced it with a yawn. As the sun began to set and the overcast clouds became a reddish-brown fire, I found an anthill. Surely that would end things¡ªthere had to be like a hundred bugs in there at least. If every one of those bugs was worth the bare minimum of EXP, I¡¯d be good. I watched the hill from the shadows. Tranquil. No ants going in or coming out. I flexed my claws and¡­ Aw, darnit, what if they were fire ants? Or what if they just had really painful jaws? Even if I coaxed them out without touching them at first, would I really be able to tell for sure without touching them? After all, even bumblebees could sting¡­ Cowardly self-doubt. Resignation. Not wanting to inflame some already painful open wounds, and not in the mood to risk it all (or risk at all), I soldiered on. A breeze blew through the forest. Every now and then, I pawed through the dirt in search of worms or other prey, and found an incredible lack of them. Or a single one and an all-too-quick kill. Two hours passed, and much too slowly. I charted my trail westward, hoping that the ecosystem around the mountain might start changing in my favor. My stomach began to rumble. And I was definitely hungry enough to wanna pull out my Inventorized wood duck corpse, but¡­ If a predator smelled it, would I be able to forgive myself? Things in these woods always felt so peaceful until a roar came along.
Current Location: Rust Point (S.B1)
When it was solidly nighttime, I had better luck. I found another tree teeming with beetles, and this time I had a bit of fun dragging my claws straight down the grooves. Then I spotted a worm writhing its way into a hole, snagged it, and chewed on it. Like stale jerky. From the corner of my eye, I glimpsed a nest full of bird¡¯s eggs and¡­decided not to hurt them. Poor babies. Poor me for having too much sympathy for poor defenseless babies.
EXP: 99% (747/750)
HP 7% (7/105)
SP 63% (50/80)
¡­You¡¯re kidding. The sunlight had faded, and I was tired in every way: tired of too-slow results, tired of my sore paw pads and aching bones. Then I took a few more steps, found myself in a clearing, and all that became a good ache. Reed¡¯s Mountain. Ahead. Imperious in the dark. I wished I could¡¯ve seen it shining in sunset, but the way that solid, dome-like shape stood proud against the empty sky struck a chord within me. What were those shadows I saw moving up and down along its meandering curves? Were they creatures? Humans? Or just tricks of the light, winds playing along the trees? Just a few more minutes of walking¡ªand fewer of Leaping¡ªand I would reach the base. My tail swayed and my back legs readied themselves for a lunge¡ªalmost without me realizing it. I can¡¯t stop moving now, can I? I told myself. Not when I¡¯m so close! But I caught myself. Dead of night. Low HP. Subpar SP. General exhaustion. Stomach forced to subsist on beetles and worms. And now, as a sudden wind passed over me, I braced myself in the chill. ¡­It¡¯s okay. Just turn around and murder three more worms, I told myself. My common sense guided me backward into the trees, back where the soil was good and moist. 16. Fire on the Trail
Level Up!
But I couldn¡¯t enjoy it. Just as I¡¯d slain the last of a line of those dependable purple beetles¡ªthe minute I¡¯d gotten that long-awaited box¡ªdestiny had slapped me in the face. Here came the wolf. I sprang into a bush. Thank goodness for my sense of smell, which picked up a hint of something odd. Since I was new to these woods, my brain called it "off-brand dog." That was all I needed. That put me on alert. But it was my whiskers that helped me choose the best direction to charge in. I honestly never relied too much on those bristly things, but they could clue me in to subtle shifts in the air if I focused on them. Tell me what direction a gentle wind was blowing, or which door in a room had opened. Hopefully this wolf had come to pick on a squirrel or something, because I was nowhere near ready to take them on. Not even at full HP and SP. Huddled in the brush, I looked out with eyes that, by the grace of Sierra, would not choose this moment to start twinkling. I couldn¡¯t see much. The animal was little more than a four-footed blur, and yet I could glean a lot of info from it. One end was the head, a three-pointed star at the end of a thin body. The way they moved, the constant hum of their growl, their canine smell, and that timberwolf-gray fur were unmistakable. The only odd thing was how thin that body was. Scrawny. Closer up, it might even have been bony. Good for me. That meant the wolf was weak, right? Yes and no. Wolves don¡¯t just hunt willy-nilly. They¡¯re smart, they¡¯re strategic, they plan. All hunters in the wilderness are. If they weren¡¯t, they¡¯d have been survival-of-the-fittest¡¯d out of existence. So the wolves who are infamous for attacking innocent humans where they live¡ªthose are the desperate ones. The ones who are starving, sick, or both. And desperation makes them brutal. Combine that with the fact that a Vencian wolf would have Skills to augment their strength¡­ Slow moments passed. My breath came and went in long, muffled hisses. The Vencian wolf was plodding and sniffing around. I could sense¡ªnot with my body, but with my instincts¡ªthat the other forest creatures around us were just as afraid to get in this wolf¡¯s way as I was. Then I heard a startling, thundercrack bark. And a searing bolt of pure magic power passed across my hiding place¡¯s leaves. Shrieks followed, then sounds of chipping wood, and then an explosion of flame. Oh. Crap. So the wolves could start fires. Lovely. I bolted. As much as I wanted to get a clearer look at the destruction the wolf had just wrought, I wanted to take advantage of this pandemonium¡ªnow, while prey was still screaming and burning. Now, while I heard the blazing tree thrash and crunch to the ground. Now, while a howl was the only thing chasing me. *** When I took shelter for the night at the very base of the mountain, it was with an unshakeable sense of paranoia. I couldn¡¯t prove that the wolf was after me. I couldn¡¯t prove that the wolf wasn¡¯t. My body wanted me to stay poised. My spirit wanted anything else. A human couldn¡¯t possibly have taken shelter below the rocky overhang I was currently sprawled out under, partly because of the uncomfortable moss around the edges and partly because it was way too small. But I did it, and my legs relished the chance to rest. They also reveled in the regained strength. How about those Stats? Maybe those would help take my mind off of things¡­or at least remind me that I could survive things, potentially? A howl sounded in the distance, and this time I knew the voice was all too familiar. Sigh¡­ Think of it like lightning: the further the howl, the more certain I¡¯ll be that the wolf is someone else¡¯s problem. Anyway. My ¡°Level Up!¡± box had long since dismissed itself, but the Stat gains remained.
Stats
Taipha Orange Tabby
Lv. 6 EXP: 0% (2/900)
HP 100% (125/125)
SP 100% (100/100)
ATK 17
INT 9
DEF 13
WIS 8
SPD 14
I remembered dimly that my Intelligence and Wisdom had gone up. I didn¡¯t know how to feel about the Intelligence part. I mean, it might¡¯ve been doing something good for my problem-solving abilities, but I didn¡¯t seem to have any Skills that relied on it. Was getting smarter supposed to limber up my Leaping leg muscles? Somehow I doubted it. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. The Help Desk said:
Intelligence is the mental counterpart of Attack; one strengthens the mind as the other strengthens the body. Also like Attack, it increases the power and effectiveness of several Skills. The higher a user¡¯s Intelligence Stat, the more effective all Skills not involving the use of their body will be. Intelligence is intimately tied to logic, deductive reasoning, and problem-solving.
Uh, I figured that verified what I¡¯d been thinking. Intelligence was no help, and it didn¡¯t even increase my SP. Just to get my money¡¯s worth, I read on.
Ways to train Intelligence include: Studying mathematics Testing hypotheses Learning by trial and error Intellectual banter Collecting knowledge of human history and culture Solving brainteasers
Hm¡­when it was all spelled out like that, raising Intelligence suddenly sounded harder and weirder than raising Wisdom. And the System just wouldn¡¯t stop nudging me toward human stuff, would it? What¡¯s next, ¡°Ways to train Attack include lifting at the gym¡±? My stomach called, and it began to feel sick. I de-Inventorized the wood duck corpse, and the smoky aftereffects brightened the overhang for one scary, intolerable moment. Then the smoke left. Nope, no way to hide this smell from prying noses. But I hoped I was far enough, and attentive enough, that it wouldn¡¯t matter. Hey, speaking of smoke, here came a fresh trail of it over the tree line. To find this overhang, I¡¯d combed the mountain¡¯s base for a while. Really, the combing was more like sniping: trees and cover were spotty right around the mountain, so scanning it for possible caves or crevices I could use had been Plan A. Plan B¡ªget up close and look for free caves or burrows that I hadn¡¯t seen through the patches of foliage¡ªI hadn¡¯t had to resort to. Now I wished for several things¡­but first and foremost, I wished for a higher view and a good, warm, duck-cooking fire. How was this forest so cold at night, even in the summer? But I did get a slightly cheerful sight. Right in front of my nose. First one, then two, then a cluster of lazy fireflies bobbing around me. They seemed to have come out of nowhere. Here I was contemplating a night spent in total darkness¡ªor interrupted by wolf-flames. But I had brilliant company. As I chewed the last of my duck, feeling equally tired and ravenous, I gazed up, feeling my eyelids grow heavy at the wonder of their pulsing lights and delicate buzz¡­ Nah, just kidding. I swatted any suckers that dared to get close with all the strength I had. I mean, they had the gall to fly near my nose. Like they didn¡¯t know what Level I was. ¡°Mraow! Meeow!¡± Fireflies sped out of reach, out of view, turned out their lights. After a minute, they went flickering off into the distance. But not all of them. A few had been smacked away, and three had even crunched to the ground. I had the evidence right in front of me¡­though with them landing in the dirty nasty moss, and tasting like bugs, I didn¡¯t dare to eat them. And I realized with a start that in my excitement, I¡¯d crawled halfway out of my little campsite. ¡­This wasn¡¯t good, was it? And the visibility wasn¡¯t even the issue. My heart was racing even from that pathetic stint of excitement. I should¡¯ve been sleeping and conserving my energy, right? No. I was tired, but not sleepy¡ªready to pull an all-nighter. My body had passed that threshold, flipped that switch, with me scarcely aware of the change as it happened. Using the full glory of my full HP and SP bars along with my enhanced Wisdom Stat, I delved into my spirit and discovered that¡­it was poised. To beat up a wolf. It was possible. A crazed lone wolf could plan, but I could plan better. I probably knew their capabilities better than they knew mine. Cats might¡¯ve been living in the Vencian Wood, but never a cat like me. No way was I sleeping tonight. At least to give the wolf another look, get a better idea of who I was messing with, and run back to safety and refreshing sleep. At least to tire myself out! First a mysterious wolf, and then onward to a mysterious Reed!
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
There we go! That¡¯s the kind of foolhardiness I can get behind!
17. Hunter Hunts Hunted Hunter Hunting Adventure with Hunt In a numerical world where Stats were what mattered, I was currently high on life: no more low HP, no more low SP, no more potential bone and paw pad damage. I wasn¡¯t even hungry! Surely all my physiological problems had been solved! Yes and no. My wounds were gone, but I was still suffering from something no known Stat could cure: mental fatigue. The kind that makes you tired or just worn-out. But whatever! I¡¯d played through the pain many times before! Now I was feeling young and reckless and pumped, and I stepped into the woods of Reed¡¯s Mountain¡¯s foot with confidence anyway. I did my thinking as I walked. I did my strategizing as I crouched in tall grass and shrubs, wary of the clearings. Was I really about to outsmart a wolf tonight? That starving creature was getting closer. I could tell: my ears swiveled toward every howl, marking the distance, the direction. I could hear them. They couldn¡¯t hear me. This was the rough sketch of my plan: Keep hugging the foot of the mountain. Get to know the lay of the land as well as I could. Look for nice strategic setpieces¡ªlike cliffs, caves, or even particularly dry trees, the ones that a fiery wolf would love to burn. Linger. But the mountain would be crawling with foes, plural. I was still sweating over how tense my first encounter with an owl was sure to be. Shortly after I stepped clear away from the overhang, making my way sideways along Reed¡¯s Mountain, I nearly made a wrong move. I came this close to stepping on a choice foe: a snake! The thin, speckled tail slithered across my path. I whipped my head to watch them duck into a hole. Hm¡­ After the initial primal fear, I reminded myself that I was at Level 6 now. I was drowning in power¡­relatively. Admittedly, it would¡¯ve been a huge relief to have some way of knowing what Level other animals were. I walked on. The idea of winding around in a spiral was tempting, but between Mapmaking, Reed, and a night-long hunt, I could only chase one goal at a time. Besides, I could always explore this territory more broadly later. About an hour in, my ears spiked. I heard new shrieks and clatter from the lower hills. And then rustles. Faint, but coming my way. So I settled on a place to call my hunting ground¡ªa ring about a hundred meters around. Kinda big. Assuming I¡¯d have enough time before the wolf closed in, I planned to tighten my scope like a lasso, deciding which parts of the combat playplace would give me the best advantage in a battle. The long, thin birches and the high boughs of the magnolias in this area, along with the lumpy rock ground, were really grabbing my attention. Too bad the wildlife was complicating things. Strange Vencian insects, not sounding like cicadas and not like crickets either, chirped from underneath brush. I walked past a particularly noisy cluster. Then I backtracked. Nope, not going to let this mystery slide, especially if I had to fight alongside it. I hovered beside the chirping bush and asked myself, did I feel cocky? The answer was, only slightly. I would strike, but not without making sure that I could hop completely out of the way. My claws cut through the night. I swatted with the full ten, slashing between leaves. Something crunched. Had I massacred them? A swarm of brown bodies exploded free, and I yowled and fell on my back. Hard carapaces and chittering wings flashed past me¡ªand when they hit me, they glowed. Twenty bright-pink cuts must¡¯ve razored across me in the span of seconds.
HP 66% (83/125)
Stronger than I¡¯d assumed¡­ And stronger than any insects I¡¯d met in my life. Ever. By the time I¡¯d whirled myself onto my feet, that swarm of brown insects had gone up through the pines and disappeared. Jerks. Not only that, but the chirping insects I¡¯d been hearing all around me rose en masse and followed, in a swarm like a whirring cloud, right behind. I couldn¡¯t see any of them¡ªnone were nearby¡ªbut I heard them and I felt them breaking holes in the earth, and I saw the swishing of the trees. Of the trees, not just their branches. The sound of so many animals moving at once, on such a vast communal instinct, was terrifying. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. With numbers like that, they could have¡­devoured me. But they didn¡¯t, and I was safe. Note to self: avoid the insects I would call the chirps. Unless maybe I found a single chirp. Then I could probably take it. *** As it turned out, seventy-five percent of my plan fell through! But the rest held. I had, indeed, tightened my lasso, and this grove on the mountainside had plenty of burnable trees, in positions I had vaguely memorized. I¡¯d spotted fallen logs and burrows, all empty at a glance and a sniff. I was prepared for a wolf to come pacing or stalking¡ªnot whipping through. Great paws stamped across the undergrowth. And I fled. Then, huddled inside of a hollow log filled with years¡¯ worth of dead leaves and moist muck, I hoped all that litter could hide my scent. Through termite-bitten holes in the side of the log, and then through the obligatory dark leaves of a summer night grove, I struggled, again, to see my enemy. It was a moonless midnight. A lone firefly glimmered, then bobbed away. The wolf was now¡­nowhere in sight. They were about three meters away, but invisible, elsewhere. I could sense them prowling. Not just the sound of their paws in the grass, but also, though dimly, the weight of them. Can humans feel that? When someone else walks in the room you¡¯re standing in, can you feel their shoes through the wood? My eyes, ears, and whiskers stayed alert, but the rest of me stayed utterly still. I couldn¡¯t let the wolf know where I was. Though I had a hunch they already did. On the flipside, maybe their Wisdom Stat was lacking. Maybe their attention had wandered to some easier prey¡­or tastier. Maybe they were¡ªafraid of cats? A branch snapped. I tensed. It was followed by a cavalcade that sounded like, and might well have been, an entire tree¡¯s worth. I heard snarling and raving. Somewhere outside of my log, the wolf was running enraged circles like an insecure king of the wilderness. I would¡¯ve thanked the goddess of luck and mercy for this distraction¡­if not for the fact that the wolf had torn right through my log. Now I was staring straight into the night, my roof and windows torn from their foundations. Leap away! I cried out to myself¡ªbut fear of the flash and noise it might cause stopped me¡ª Aw, it didn¡¯t matter anyway. The wolf had stopped in their tracks not a meter behind me. And when I looked over my shoulder, I knew just who they were glaring at. The thin wolf licked their chops. Okay, now Leap away. I Leapt, satisfied that stealth did not currently matter. But just before I did so, I hopped back¡ªso that the kickoff would sail into the wolf¡¯s lower jaw. Fortunately, this hurt enough to make the wolf whine. Unfortunately, it made my Leaping angle very awkward, so instead of jumping, I really skidded along the leaf litter. Ow!
HP 62% (78/125)
SP 82% (82/100)
The moment I shot away, making a third of the distance I¡¯d intended, the wolf was on my tail, running without stealth, without grace, just crashing through the forest. Quickly I recovered from my fall, went into a run, went hurtling downslope. Meaning that I was taking the opposite lesson from my running with rabbits and the berserk wolf behind me had the horrific momentum of a movie-ruins-style boulder. In seconds they would catch up. I knew the only way to escape this wolf was to outwit them, recover the scraps of plans I¡¯d made, but¡ªbut it¡¯s so hard with a fear-plagued mind. How could I stand to do that when the world was racing by? When stopping for an instant would lose what little advantage I had? Somehow I did it. I changed course, jumping and latching onto a flimsy tree. The wolf did too. Not with their whole body, but with front paws that stretched above and around me. The entire birch leaned with the weight. A bird¡¯s nest collapsed and rained down past the wolf¡¯s head while they barked as fiercely as any guard dog. Injecting myself with false confidence, I leapfrogged my way to another birch, one just as flimsy. Now a more coherent plan was popping into place. I knew where a fat, sturdy, time-weathered magnolia was. If the wolf chased me there and I figured out how to enrage them enough to unleash a burning Skill¡­and then found a way to get them to blunder into their own flames¡­ Yes. It had potential. Until the wolf came soaring at me with a Leap. I was¡­unaware that other animals had that. In a mortifying instant, the jaws closed around me¡ªthe latest birch was falling below me¡ªI was caged by a body at least twice my weight, with incalculable power. There was no longer any time to think, only time to panic. So I did that. Nor was there any time to act, only time to flip a switch in myself. Suddenly this was do or die. Any indecision, any time spent not doing what I most feared, and my life would be over. I activated Morph, and I became a nekomata. A flash, then a flood of magical steam. When it cleared, it left a bizarre scene. On one side was me, the cat-woman with clawed hands and feet still nailing me to the collapsed birch tree. On the other was the wolf, who would have been crushing my throat if the pain of my suddenly expanding inside-throat-size hadn¡¯t wrenched their jaws wide enough to make a loud crack. For a second, the wolf remained standing with their front paws on top of me. It dawned on me that I was now bigger than the wolf¡ªand looking ludicrous on the tree, with my hands and feet all clustered right next to each other. I still wasn¡¯t completely sure why animals didn¡¯t attack me in this form. It could¡¯ve been a fear of humans, their firearms or their magic. It could¡¯ve been simply the fear of an apex predator. Or maybe it wasn¡¯t humans, but nekomata. Maybe they found something¡­uncanny about me being almost human. The wolf was, apparently, no different from the rest. They backed off. Thumping onto all fours on the earth again, they looked up into my new face with a low growl. Wait, that last part didn¡¯t sound right. Sadly, I knew what this growl meant. It was the wolf getting cautious without giving up. It meant the wolf was feeling truly brave, or insane. It meant I wasn¡¯t free yet. Quickly I checked my Stats. They only confirmed that my vitals didn¡¯t change when I transformed¡­except for my SP, whittling away. Then I rose from the tree with all the bluster I could manage, rearing up with teeth and fingernail-claws bared. I lashed out with Swipe, but the wolf responded with a blade of fire. 18. A Saving Bolt I was on the brink. At 62% health and 0% morale, I was losing faith in my power to fight a ferocious, relentless wolf. And now I was doing it as a nekomata, in this humanoid form I was taking on for only the second or third time. It was hard not to tremble, thanks obviously to my fear, but also to the fact that I had no clothes, again. So I was freezing. In that light, it was a blessing when the wolf used that Skill I was mentally calling the ¡°Fire Blade.¡± It wasn¡¯t a physical sword one could carry around, but the shape that unfurled in the air before me, that was the blade. A tall, narrow shape cut through the air, blazing scarlet. I dove sideways, cried out, and crashed to my side as another tree died in flames that night. In my cat form, I usually had no trouble rolling from a fall to my feet. But now when I instinctively extended all four limbs¡ªas if I was expecting to stand on arms and legs¡ªthey all got tangled in one another. I couldn¡¯t fight in this form! And my confidence in my ability to get this wolf to run into their own fires was flagging¡ªthey were keeping their distance and, by the looks of their vicious, smoking mouth, clearly charging a second Fire Blade. After failing to bite through my neck and fearing my ability to transform, their strategy had taken a hard left. Meanwhile, I had zero long-range attacks¡ªunless you count throwing the pink lotus flower in my Inventory, which, from what I¡¯d seen and tried, couldn¡¯t even reach beyond a few inches. I settled on de-Morphing and running. On getting into a pit or cave where the wolf couldn¡¯t reach, or maybe running around for so long that the wolf got too exhausted to stay angry. Fine. Try it. Now¡ª But then things changed. ¡°Hey!¡± cried a voice from the west. I didn¡¯t turn. Neither did the wolf, but maybe they should have, because a new blade of magic, white-pink and radiant, slammed into their neck and nearly cleaved their head off. With a dry bark, the wolf teetered. They almost fell onto their side, but stayed strong. All while a wound blossomed on their neck and, as I could see now, all down their side with streaks of blood. The sight was grisly, even for me. Raw, screaming flesh, on a creature that had been so cocky moments before. Two thoughts kept me alert, kept my mind focused on the future: You¡¯re a hunter, you¡¯ve seen things like this before. Be happy it wasn¡¯t you. Seconds later, the pain caught up with the wolf. They collapsed onto their unhurt side, a still and whining heap. Footsteps came fast down the mountainside. Heavy boots. Before I could fully register what was happening, I looked up to see¡­ Reed. That¡¯d been her voice across the mountain, her magical shockwave. I turned and saw¡ªsword in hand, walking more tentatively down the lush slope¡ªmy protector. Maybe by chance and maybe by kindness. I felt so grateful that it didn¡¯t even matter. And when our eyes met, I knew that this wasn¡¯t the first time. It wasn¡¯t the second time, either. Either she¡¯d saved me years ago, or she had a doppelganger in another world. *** I¡¯ve always lived on my own. I¡¯d never gotten comfortable with the idea of a stable home, a constant place to fall. Precious few of Earth¡¯s feral and stray cats had that. The rest of us didn¡¯t¡ªcouldn¡¯t. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Once, in my former life, a hard winter came to the city. Food was never enough, ransacked from dumpsters as soon as it landed. There was no water, but the streets were clogged with frost and black ice. I was young and fragile. To save myself at that age from prowling dogs and older, stronger cats, I needed to stay out of their way. There were cracks under buildings and open drains where I knew I could huddle. But it was so cold I couldn¡¯t stand to. Any heat was a mercy, any spark was a fire. I would drag myself out of the shadows instead so that, when it was midday, the sunlight would bake my body and kiss away my pain. A few of the people who came across me were cruel. Most ignored me. My least favorites were the ones who tried to help. One day I¡¯d gotten scuffed up by older cats¡ªscuffed and scarred. Still I lay on a sidewalk corner and sighed in the heat of the sun. A little girl ran to me, bundled in a coat, a scarf, all those human comfort things. She was carrying something under one arm: a shoebox. I refused. On another day I might¡¯ve yowled and walked away. I was too weak, though, to really respond. I blinked slowly. This girl was persistent. She kneeled and opened the box. I wondered if she would shove me in. But there was a home¡¯s worth of supplies in there: a box of treats, a bottle full of water, and a crocheted blanket. She gave them to me. She did her best to make me drink from the bottle and to lift the treats to my mouth. Once those days were dead and gone, I could never remember where the blanket went. I couldn¡¯t even remember if I ate anything¡­ And now that pained me. Now, in the woods of what I¡¯d dubbed Reed¡¯s Mountain, I felt thankful, and sorry that I¡¯d ever been unthankful. I doubted that Reed and that girl from long ago were the same person, but even so, I wanted surprisingly badly to believe they were. That girl was taller and stronger now. Her colors were washed out by the night, but the rose gold in her eyes grew all the deeper. I felt locked in place, nervous beyond words. More than anything, I was frantically wondering about Reed¡¯s apparent lack of nerves. I would¡¯ve expected her to be as flustered as she had been on the steps of the cabin, making a flushed and hasty decision, but¡­if Reed was feeling any of that, it didn¡¯t show in her face right now. She looked like she had practiced, like she had been a hero before. But then she was just a step or two away from me. That was when she sheathed her sword in the space behind her back, extended her hand in a loose fist, and smiled, becoming normal again. She kneeled before me, a human greeting a nekomata. A stunned fight-or-flight response overwhelmed me. My gut told me to run away as fast as possible. No! No more mistakes tonight! I would put away my claws and take her firmly by the hand, like any friendly human. I would thank her¡ª ¡°Meow,¡± I said in my humanoid form. The ¡°word¡± tumbled out of my mouth. I stared at her. She stared at me. The moment stretched. I felt mortified. How long would this go on¡­ Reed laughed. An awkward chuckle to diffuse the tension. It didn¡¯t work for me. I raised my hand by a few wobbling centimeters and she took it¡ªpractically snatched it. Then she clasped it with both hands, warm and firm. We stayed like that, perfectly still, for long seconds. Instead of shaking on it, she slowly tugged me closer. She set my arm back at my side and wrapped both of hers around me. I was unsure how I felt, except that I was melting in confusion. That much I knew for sure. But she wasn¡¯t hugging me, not anymore. Now she was at my side, with one arm locked across my shoulders. Considering how light and wibbly on my feet I was, I certainly needed someone to keep me upright. She told me, ¡°Let¡¯s get you back to camp.¡± Right then, there was nothing I¡¯d rather have done. I would¡¯ve jumped off a cliff if she¡¯d said to.
Treasure Detected!
Check your Map for the location.
Oh, shut up¡­ *** So I¡¯d forgotten what I did with the gifts Young Reed gave me years ago? Fine. This time, I¡¯d do better. I¡¯d remember every single solitary moment from the wolf to her campsite! Is what I told myself moments before fainting. I woke up with dawn in my eyes. I was out in the open, no tent. Reed had cocooned me inside of a quilt. I must¡¯ve changed from human to cat while I was out cold, because I could feel the quilt stretching far, far around me. I couldn¡¯t tell what anything else was. Everything was in shadow, though light traced lines around them. My eyes wanted to squint shut, not because the dawn was so radiantly bright but because I was still half-asleep. A rough, rhythmic sound was close by. I turned as much as my tired body was able, then looked up. I thought I was seeing Reed sitting on a stone next to me, one leg crossed loose and casual over the other, as she carved an abstract four-footed something with her knife. Sleep was falling upon me again. The shadows grew blurry with my tears. Sometimes I woke up with these meaningless tears in my eyes, but I decided now they were happy tears. No one else had ever given me a home. 19. Uninvited I woke up terrified by the hiss of a condor. Surprisingly, that fear didn¡¯t fling me right out of the quilt and onto the ground. It did, however, get a pretty squeaky yelp out of me. The audience outside watching my quilt would''ve seen a sudden lump rise within¡­before settling, slinking backward in suspicion, and, finally, sticking its cat-head out. The condor¡ªhuge, black-winged, and wrinkly-faced¡ªwas sitting on the gloved fist of a totally unfamiliar human, whose dusty boots were set practically in my face. Who was this? Some kind of park ranger, by the looks of it? But more importantly, why were these two here on Reed''s Mountain, in Reed''s campsite? The scene was a lot to take in. What got my immediate attention were the three concerned figures around me. The ranger was looming, and hardly paying me any attention, as if he was leaving that job to the bird. And that bird did not like me. The ranger was sitting on a stone¡ªa semi-smoothed one, shaped up for the purposes of camping. Across from him was Reed, who was right where she had been in the luminous morning. She was leaning forward, a hand over her chin and lip, forehead creased. Dirty overalls and a faint smell of animal fur betrayed what she''d done last night, but I wondered if the way she¡¯d rolled up the cuffs on her pants and sleeves betrayed a sense of human hospitality. Then there was the weather, which felt just as melancholy as these three figures: dripping rain from an overcast sky. Of course, the fire had long since gone out. Reed gave me a look of polite acknowledgement, then told me something I couldn''t quite make out before returning to a tense discussion with the ranger. Even though they were both speaking slowly, their voices were low enough¡ªand the light rain interrupted enough¡ªthat I had trouble making out more than brief snatches of their talk. ¡°I''ll help you,¡± I clearly heard Reed say, ¡°but you have to¡­¡± Her gestures made a line between me and the condor. Yeah, I could guess what that meant¡ªand I was glad for it. I preferred not to get eaten today. The ranger nodded apologetically¡­very, incredibly slowly. In fact, as he nodded, his whole body began to lean, and so did the condor¡¯s. They were bowing together, looking horribly solemn. Afterward, the ranger stood up and took a seat closer to Reed. I saw a brief tremor in Reed¡¯s shoulders. She was trying not to be nervous, and hopefully the ranger and condor wouldn¡¯t notice that. ¡­If the ranger was even alive, and not the walking dead. Okay, so Reed was helping these unknown spooky people. Instinctively I pegged this ranger as a villain, or at least the companion of a villainous bird-pet. That, I realized with a twitch of frustration, totally destroyed my fantasy of how my meeting with Reed was supposed to go! Why wasn''t I getting unrestricted access to this campsite¡ªwhich would probably have been quite pretty if not for the boots still decidedly obscuring my view? What had Reed been whittling?! I felt ignored, and a bit sulky, until figures moved and a knuckle appeared before my nose. ¡°Are you alright?¡± a calm voice whispered. I thought about it. I was back to full health, though hungry and thirsty. Plus, I had the nice quilt. Physically speaking, I was immaculately comfortable. But mainly I wanted to watch how Reed operated. I mewed. Reed nodded as if she understood. She walked behind the campsite''s sitting-stones to a boxy object obscured by rain and mist. I heard rustling followed by a trickle like tap water. Reed said, ¡°Did you try to¡­?¡± ¡°Yes, but I was alone, so I couldn''t¡­¡± More words followed, then a choke in the ranger''s voice. The condor fluttered. ¡°I see.¡± Two bowls were set before me. One had clear, shining water that wriggled under the rain. The other was harder to identify. Some kind of mushy, wheat-smelling puddle with fruits smothered inside. Um¡­Reed didn''t seem like she''d poison me on purpose, but the emphasis there is on the ¡°on purpose.¡± Once Reed had turned to take a seat, I put a clump into my Inventory.
Food: Muesli
A combination of milk, oats, fruits, and nuts which is delicious, but only while in nekomata form. Nourishing, but won¡¯t heal HP or SP.
I ejected it just as quickly and stuck out my tongue in disgust. I wasn¡¯t about to transform just to stomach this muesli in the name of politeness. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. ¡­M-maybe I would eat it anyway. I started lapping up the mush. Sweetness was never a flavor I liked¡ªit just tasted like rotten meat to me. The sweet fruits combined with the bland connective tissue was just¡­ Reed took a seat and the discussion continued, filling with words that my Stage 1 comprehension skills couldn¡¯t hold onto. Once I hit that fabled next Evolution, this would all be easier, I hoped. Then maybe I could tell Reed ¡°thank you.¡± As I ate my muesli and listened and wondered about all this, the conversation suddenly stopped. ¡°I wonder if you would be able to help¡­?¡± said Reed. She¡¯d turned to me like I knew something vital. So had the ranger. Confused, I just boggled my eyes at them. ¡­Wait. Wait! The dots were connecting in my head! This guy was looking for something, right? And I had this automatic Mapping feature that showed me where hidden Treasures were. I remembered how it updated the night before. With any luck, it¡¯d be whatever he was looking for! Then this wet blanket and his critical bird would probably leave the mountain! Oh, and I would have done a good deed for someone, I guess. I shook myself out of the quilt, stood tall, and meowed as proudly as I could. Yes I could help! Let''s see¡­
Current Location: Reed''s Mountain (S.A1)
According to my Map of the area, the Treasure wasn¡¯t far away, but it seemed to be closer to the peak. (¡­Wow, who drew these things? Sierra had a bad hand.) Of course, the Map didn''t give me any other specifics whatsoever, not even altitude. And what if the ranger and the condor weren¡¯t looking for Treasure at all? In any case, it was a direction. I started our trip by letting them know, to the best of my ability, where we were going. I briefly got on my hind legs and raised one paw high. We¡¯re going to the mountaintop, I was trying to say. There was silence. Looking between everybody¡¯s faces, I got the impression that nobody liked this idea. Also, was it just me, or were the eyes of that ranger twin voids of swirling nothingness? As if to punctuate it all, a lightning strike boomed far in the distance. ¡°Well,¡± Reed said slowly, ¡°at least we all know where that is. ¡°But the strength could be¡­¡± the ranger began, before his words got lost in a mire of length and obscure definitions. They spent about a minute in their own conversation, rarely glancing at me. But then, with a light shooing motion, Reed had the ranger and the condor move out of the way. The motionless, ominous, ten-gallon-hat-sized specter of a condor ruffled their feathers, apparently in irritation. Too bad. Reed leaned toward me, to the spot in the quilt that I still hadn¡¯t moved from. She said, drooping, ¡°I¡¯m sorry we¡­are putting you to work like this. But we can trip¡­don¡¯t want to, you don¡¯t have to, except¡­¡± Then she shook her head. Annoyed at herself? The ranger said something about ¡°the beacon¡± and pointed up to the sky. Maybe to the rain or the thunder. Perfect Human Language couldn¡¯t come soon enough. Reed didn¡¯t look at the other two. She just stayed turned toward me, kept her face even, and told me, ¡°I trust you. I hope you¡¯ll trust me.¡± It¡¯s not that serious, I wanted to say. You scratched my back and now I¡¯m ready to scratch yours. Was she only saying that to get on my good side after forcing me into what might prove to be a horrible, life-ending fetch quest? And yet, like her reasons for saving my life, it almost didn''t matter to me. Because it was still another first for me: I had never been trusted. I knew that humans cooperated all the time. It seemed like such a hassle, but it filled me with a strange sense of wonder now. Looking her in the eye brought me back to the night before, and then to the night when she¡¯d seen me in the light of the kitchen and acknowledged me like a fellow, equal being. Reverence from the green-haired girl was one thing, and an upsetting one when I didn¡¯t know what it came from and what it was rooted in, and knew that I hadn¡¯t exactly deserved it. But this wasn¡¯t reverence. It was kindness and warmth. It wasn¡¯t mannered, and intuition told me that none of it was manufactured. And what I felt for her was gratitude. That and a guilt that felt like a challenge. I would get back at her for this. I would just kill her with kindness. Lightning rumbled again. Hopefully a bolt of it would come down speeding for Reed so that I could dive in the way and protect her. ¡°Would you like to lead the way?¡± I meowed and nodded. Wouldn''t Reed have known the way to the top better than me? Well, maybe not. Humans on Earth tended to have very selective, very poor knowledge of the landscapes they lived and camped in. Yet I had higher expectations for Vencian Reed. Were those misplaced? Was I exaggerating her prowess after she had saved my life? That idea didn¡¯t hold water considering all the slagging and dragging I put Sierra through. Anyway, this was a good spot to be in. I felt way more comfortable as a leader than as a follower. Being a housepet or a mere companion didn''t sit right with me. Neither did letting Reed do me favors without me returning the favor in kind. Plus, I got the impression that Vencian people were, at least, pleasantly okay with the idea of intelligent, magic-manipulating, language-comprehending-sometimes animals. And they had different ideas of respect¡ªwhich I was starting to like a lot more than Earth''s ¡°anything goes.¡± Little by little, the rain had intensified. It hadn''t gone beyond a drizzle, but by the look of the hay-colored clouds slowly churning above us, this was a taste of the downpour to come. Before I could wonder about the state of the quilt, Reed kneeled next to me again and said, ¡°Can you make it fast?¡± ¡°Mreaow!¡± I shouted. Yes! I''d certainly try. Predictably, I hated rain and believed that water belonged nowhere but my mouth-innards.
Quest: Solve a Mystery¡ªThe Ranger and the Condor on Reed¡¯s Mountain
Progress: 0%
Sierra decided to give me a formal mission from the shadows. Instead of screaming my mind''s ear off, for once. This I could deal with. 20. Sword on the Slope ¡°Hup!¡± Reed said as she hoisted her broadsword over one shoulder. I hoped that thing didn¡¯t bruise. With a delicate smile, she asked me, ¡°You want to lead?¡± It was hard not to stare. That was the same sword I¡¯d seen her wield twice now, and never in the light of day. It wasn¡¯t one solid color; wisps of darker gray darted through it like lightning trails. And it had nearly killed me. We were standing a couple meters away from her camp, where the anxious ranger was setting up a tarp. I could see now that the campsite was framed on one side by a magnificent reddish-purple ridge of exposed rock. The spruces around it, even with their vibrant peppermint-greens, couldn''t compete. It was bound to look even better when we came back in sunset. Reed looked at me, then the blade, then frowned. ¡°Oh¡­I¡¯m sorry if seeing this is¡­¡± It took me a few seconds to process her last word: ¡°traumatic.¡± No! I shook my head wildly. I wanted to see her use my murder weapon! Which sounds strange when I put it that way! She was still uneasy about it. Holding the sword by her side, she said, ¡°Well, okay¡­¡± We left the camp in a curving path up the mountain. With a flattened dirt route this obvious, surely Reed didn¡¯t need me to lead the way. She was probably just being polite. Darnit. The ranger wished us good luck, and the moment the last word left his mouth, the condor¡¯s wings opened like a black canopy and the creature took off, flying straight upward, leaving the glove. The fist fell to his side, and the black miasma left his eyes. We didn¡¯t make time to stop and stare, but as we turned off through the trees, I thought I heard a whine. Should I have been concerned? Reed sighed as we jogged. ¡°It¡¯s hard on him.¡± The more she thought she was explaining things and putting me at ease, the more jumbled I felt. Maybe that was what it meant to be human. Maybe it sucked. Reed was not only armed with her broadsword, but also carried a canteen and sipped at intervals. What great ideas humans had sometimes¡ªgreat crafts forged by tools held by their opposable thumbs, then operated by said opposable thumbs. I probably could¡¯ve gotten a water container of some kind (or stolen it) (from Reed¡¯s place), but staying hydrated on the go would still require some¡­forethought, to keep it from bouncing on the ground and rolling off forevermore. Meanwhile, besides being thirsty with only drops of rainwater to sate me, I was starting to look sad and wilted. It was decidedly drizzly, soaking our skin and softening the earth, making us chilly and just plain uncomfortable. And soon it would really get hard. The coming of heavy rain, I knew, was our time limit. Not because I fully comprehended what we were searching for, but because my fur was suffering and my whiskers were as ineffective as any mustache. As we rushed side by side, the trees around us rustled furiously. Those were birds racing to beat the rain¡ªI could tell even though most of them were too fast and furtive to see. I grazed a tree teeming with lines of busy ants. My hungry EXP bar called out to me¡­
EXP: 1% (10/900)
No, I couldn¡¯t stop and fight them. Even if it was an easy point grab. Not in front of this person I had decided to respect, not while we were on a time-sensitive mission! We trudged on through the waving, rattling woods. When we came to a mass of thorny bushes reaching up to Reed¡¯s chin and I watched her stop short and gasp, I panicked. Would my Swiping claws be enough to break through? Would I have to tunnel underneath? Or would I have to transform and do some extreme gymnastics? Oh yeah, Reed literally had a huge sword. ¡°Stand back,¡± she warned, and mere moments after I sprang away, she¡¯d swung her sword cleanly through the briars. I still didn''t know where she got it from, and it clearly didn''t sit in an Inventory of the same make as mine. As if she had an Inventory that was cleaner, more¡­energy-efficient. The spiny bushes were still in our path, though, just collapsed and droopy. Reed, with her tough boots, could step through them at their current height, but I¡¯d be pricked all over. Was she going to have to pick me up? Again? Aw, I¡¯d been hoping that this adventure would let me prove myself. Reed had saved me from death and I was dying to return the favor. I sat before the cut bushes. Reed looked at me with a puzzled frown. Then I reared back, waggled my butt (it helps, shut up), licked my lips (that helps too, shut up!) and launched myself with a Leap. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Aura coursed and rippled through the air as I Leaped, stuck the landing, forgot the ground was turning to mud and mush, scooted a bit too far, lost my balance, and plopped on my side.
HP 97% (121/125)
SP 82% (82/100)
We take what we can get in life. Reed chuckled for a second, but cut herself off¡ªmercifully. She was about to ask if I was alright, but I cut her off by wobbling to my feet and shaking myself off. How far along were we again? I checked the Map. Woah, we''d barely even moved! We had a lot more ground to cover, so I didn¡¯t waste any time. I scampered up the slope. Did Reed have that much Speed? Did she even have Stats? Well, she would just have to catch up. ¡°Hey!¡± she cried, but not without a laugh. *** The drizzling got a little heavier. In other words, drips had become drops. I was racing now, zigzagging between leaves and bark in a way I was now sure Reed couldn''t cope with. In my current flow state, that was hard to remember. I paused every now and then, looking over my shoulder, swiveling an ear. At the first sound of her heavy human footsteps, I¡¯d spring and charge onward. My progress was halted by a small watering hole. Five blue-headed mallards were peacefully gliding through the middle, and at the bank, drinking, was¡­a ram. A whole ram, their fleece yellow-white and their horns heavy and long. As they drank, they glared up into the evergreens with eyes like boiling lava. I froze at the opposite edge. I was careful, this time, to make sure the leaves before me didn¡¯t shake and give me away. I had no experience with rams (no surprise) but I did have some idea of them: determined, aggressive herbivores. Despite my time limit, way too many recent run-ins with surprisingly dangerous foes had taught me to stop playing every second and take my darn time, so I backed up as carefully as I could, preparing to go sideways. And then I remembered Reed was coming, and that her boots would be loud as thunder. Crap! Wait¡­she had a weapon. And evidently, a Skill! And she was, to some degree, a woman of the wilderness. If I could just signal to her quickly and accurately, we could solve this¡ªeither go around the obstacle or massacre our way through it! I tiptoed backward until I heard Reed coming up the slope. I turned around, tried to seat myself on the most conspicuous spot possible, and kept my sparkling eyes wide open. Then I held my paw pad out¡ªsort of an improvised stop sign. Reed came into view, and my weird posture grabbed her attention. She was about four meters away, looking up at me through the pines. With an inquisitive face, she pointed her sword up and over my head toward the watering hole. I shook my head, in as huge an arc as possible to make sure she could see it. She made a curve with her sword. Going around the obstacle? Good! Good. I kinda wanted the Experience from fighting those animals, but that was why they called me Low-Intelligence-and-Wisdom-Stat Jones. Without an explicit response to Reed, I curved around the watering hole and continued the trip. And this time, I slowed to a gallop so that my adventuring partner could keep up. When she reached my side, an ominous current of wind blew through and whipped heavy raindrops in our faces. I blinked them away; Reed shielded her eyes. We were about three-fourths of the way there. It wouldn¡¯t be much longer now. We got high enough that the trees began to break up. At first, the only new things we could see were dramatic patches of the grayish-brown light filtering through the fuming clouds. The color reminded me of earth tornadoes, ravaged sepia valleys. Then we came to a flat ledge of mingled mud and rock and, since Reed was breathing heavily and already slowing down a little, this was where I came to a stop. I sat on the edge, and Reed sat next to me. Well, almost¡ªshe stood there, dropped her sword with a clank, bent forward, and set her hands on her knees, breathing deeply. The rain pattered on our heads, a constant reminder. Only now did I realize how great the view was from up here¡­and how much better it would be from the peak, and on a clearer day. You know how when the rain is heavy enough, you¡¯ll see big chunks of it coming down in the sky? I expected the rain to be blocking my view like that, but it didn¡¯t. But I was sure it would. The downpour hadn¡¯t truly arrived yet. I could scan more of the Vencian Wood than I ever had before. The landscape reminded me of Reed¡¯s quilt: a forest here, a field there, in what almost looked like checkerboard squares. Hm, maybe the design of my Map made more sense than I''d anticipated. Above in the cloudy vortex was that familiar bird, the only bird in this drenched sky, ever boomeranging. Southeast of here were dramatically looming shapes, too distant to see clearly, but I knew a mountain when I saw one, and unlike Reed¡¯s, this gang of mountains was skyscraper-steep. Like the cones of wizard hats. All this I saw in a few quiet moments, while Reed got her bearings. She was the one to break that quiet. ¡°We¡¯ll talk more later, but¡­do you mind me asking if you have a name?¡± she said. Huh? ¡­Huh. I understood the question, I just didn¡¯t know how to answer it, or¡­why she was asking it that way? I definitely did have a name, and I was yearning to share it with someone who wasn¡¯t a goddess or a System that knew it by default. I was pleased as punch that she¡¯d care that much. But I could only communicate in ¡°yes¡± and ¡°no.¡± And ¡°meow,¡± if we¡¯re gonna count that (and I refuse to). Why would she ask me for a name if I had no way of sharing it? So I nodded ¡°yes,¡± but I did so with a whimper. ¡°Oh,¡± she said between deep breaths. ¡°Did someone steal it?¡± Huh? Oh yeah, this was a world of witchcraft and whimsy. I should¡¯ve realized how many weird conclusions her mind could jump to if I said something ambiguous like that. ¡°Meow!¡± I shook my head in a hard ¡°no.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Meow,¡± I said, hanging my head. A crack of lightning sprouted in the southeast. ¡°We¡¯d better get going,¡± Reed said. She snapped up her sword in one hand, with that same combo of strength and casual dexterity. With a swig from her canteen, she went on jogging. I followed, and we got back on the road. 21. Honey and Dust The final stretch of our mountain was less of a climb and more of a ligament-stretching ramp crawl. If you¡¯re a fellow city person, know that it¡¯s tougher than it sounds. Not drips, not drops, but definite rain was pattering across the mud and grass. Most sensible animals had taken cover. Reed and I were out. We were power-walking again. Going too fast on this terrain could have easily led to a slip-and-fall. Reed had put away her broadsword for the moment, seeing as the way forward looked clear. ¡°Can you launch energy really far or meow really loud?¡± she asked me. ¡°Mrah.¡± ¡°I guess that¡¯s a ¡®no,¡¯ huh.¡± ¡°Meow.¡± ¡°I¡¯m asking because I might need to send a signal up or down, for murdering Donovan.¡± ¡°Maow?!¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Maow!¡± ¡°Oh!¡± Reed covered her mouth in embarrassed surprise, then got over it and laughed. ¡°Murdering Donovan. Those are the names of the other two people. Murder is the condor, and Donovan is the ranger. Uh¡­both¡­masculine.¡± ¡°M-meow¡­¡± Reed frowned. ¡°Oh, I should¡¯ve asked you what kinds of abilities you had before we got this close¡­¡± I wasn¡¯t thinking about it that way, but she had a point. ¡°I-I guess I¡¯m not that used to talking animals, let alone transforming ones! Don¡¯t get me wrong¡ªI know it happens¡ªbut¡­yeah¡­so¡­if I say something wrong, I didn¡¯t mean to¡­uh¡­yeah¡­¡± Her words got lost in the shuffle of our marching feet. Wow was she making this more complicated than she needed to. I guessed that was humans in a nutshell. How was it that she¡¯d seemed so straightforward, almost businessy at the camp, but now was breaking down over so much logistical nothing? Eventually she asked, ¡°Do you have much combat experience?¡± ¡°Mah!¡± She flushed and blubbered instantly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry! That was rude!¡± What? I wasn¡¯t offended! I meant ¡°mah¡± as in confusion, not ¡°mah¡± as in distress! What¡¯d she mean by ¡°combat experience¡±? Did she have the same numbers I had, or just, like, life experience?! ¡°Meow meow!¡± I cried, and I shook my head super hard again, hoping she would turn to see it. Geez¡­ I didn¡¯t even know what counted as ¡°much¡± life experience. When it came to the wilderness, I only had a little. But I had to have been more handy than, say, the average city human. And in my former life, I¡¯d been alive for nearly two decades. What Level was Reed? Presumably she was higher than last night¡¯s wolf¡ªso¡­what Level was the wolf, then? Or were my basic assumptions all wrong? Was the power actually all in her sword? Or in her muscles, like with boring old Earth people? ¡°I just don¡¯t want you to get hurt!¡± Reed cried. ¡°In case we find something weird up there.¡± ¡°Meow.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t know this place well, do you?¡± I silently shook my head. ¡°There¡¯s a kind of¡­up there,¡± she told me, using another unfamiliar word. ¡°It lures monsters in. Late at night, it can lure¡­like you and me in too. Like a lighthouse, if you know what those are.¡± She paused. ¡°You¡¯re not a monster, right?¡± Wasn¡¯t it a little late to ask that one too? I meowed and shook my head. But then I remembered¡­maybe I was. A nekomata certainly wasn¡¯t an animal. But was it that other fifth-grade vocabulary word Reed had mentioned? More, morp, portal? Was it ¡°mortal¡±? Hm. I didn¡¯t even know if I was. An opportune-yet-inopportune text box appeared before my eyes.
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
I can¡¯t tell you the rules of this world, but I can say this: you¡¯re definitely mortal. You have a finite lifespan in Vencia, though it may be longer than the typical human¡¯s. You¡¯re not fully monster, but not fully animal either. You¡¯ve got a little of both the same way you have a taste for muesli and a taste for raw meat. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. For right now, you can tell Reed ¡°no¡± to make your life easier. Not all monsters are kind.
But not all animals are kind either.
At least there¡¯s kinship. Humans are animals too. A fact that you all tend to forget.
I stubbed my front paw against a stone I couldn¡¯t see. Ugh! Text boxes overstaying their welcome! Reed heard my squeal of pain and interrupted her speech to ask if I was okay¡­ Oh no, I hadn¡¯t even paid attention to the rest of her speech about the place we were going! And I knew it¡¯d been full of important stuff too! This didn¡¯t seem like the time to experiment with gestural communication. I had an idea for how to say ¡°repeat,¡± but it would take at least one free paw¡ªso, later. I told Reed I was okay with a nod. In response, she smiled and wrapped up her mostly missed lecture. ¡°¡­which should mean that we¡¯ll have enough protection. We might even be able to stay on the defensive without looking like total losers, heh¡­¡± I sighed and moved on, powering through my aching paw. It wasn¡¯t draining HP like other recent paw wounds, but it sure was distracting. At least Reed¡¯s last bit had given me some useful information for what I assumed¡ªand kinda hoped!¡ªwas a big battle to come. Reed¡¯s Mountain clearly didn¡¯t have a tall, pointy, wizard-hat peak. Even near the top, it was wide and broad and fairly lumpy. Like a sunhat, if you wanna extend the simile. Once we crested the steep, leg-workout portion, we could see the summit in the near distance. There was something strange on top, a human-made structure. That must have been what Reed was talking about: the ¡°lighthouse.¡± I pulled out my mental Map. The Treasure was in exactly the same spot as the lighthouse. Perfect. So perfect that I began to seriously wonder¡ªand kinda dread!¡ªwhether, after all of this, we¡¯d also have to dig a mile underground to get it. We began to jog. The weather was no longer messing around. It was officially out to make puddles and runny noses, and it made sure we knew it. It splashed across my fur, chilling me to the skin. But the one thing it could no longer provide on these rocky slopes was mud. So speed up we did. We panted together, aiming for nothing but that lighthouse, beacon, lure. We were coming closer and closer. It did sort of look like a lighthouse, at first¡­but then it looked more like a chapel. It was some sort of tower attached to a building, both made of stone. The closer we got, the more dingy and time-worn the walls became. There were scraps of honey-brown and pink paint, hanging on for dear life and surrounded by deserts of gray. Reed talked again, this time between heavy breaths: ¡°This used to be¡ªa holy place¡ªbut it was¡­one day long¡ªlong ago.¡± I didn¡¯t know one of the words, right after ¡°was,¡± yet I knew what she meant. I could sense that things were out of joint, up here. The closer we ran, the more haunted the air. But it wasn¡¯t quite like the time-dilating stones. I checked my Stats to make sure, and¡­no. No debuffs, no new SP drain, nothing yet unexplainably lost. It was a raw feeling of dread curling up inside of me, coiled tight and heavy in my stomach. It seemed like a magical dread, though I couldn¡¯t explain why I knew that except by process of elimination. Would my Skills or Traits even work here? Well, Reed hadn¡¯t implied that they wouldn¡¯t, but since I was incapable of asking questions to confirm, I figured it was better to be safe than sorry. We were coming up fast on the entrance to Reed¡¯s Lighthouse, which I refused to call Reed¡¯s Church because cats should bow to no one. I yearned to Leap to the door for the theatricality, but as we got closer, I discovered it was made of, like, granite. That would¡¯ve been bad. As we reached the door, Reed mainly had her eyes on the windows of the chapel. Understandably, because they were made of thick, shining, gold-flecked amber. Maybe she was checking for magical signs or whatever, but I was just intrigued by their beauty. Could those have been the Treasure? Nah, I¡¯d tracked enough Treasure to know it was going to be inside. I backed away. Up close, nothing about this place besides the windows was outstanding. The stone-and-mortar walls with their crumbling paint reminded me of a castle keep. In fact, the door looked like it was locked in place by the same mortar. It gave way at Reed¡¯s touch, swaying open on a nonexistent hinge. She paused after that, and I peeked inside, bending my head around her leg. At first glance, the place was nothing but ruin and desolation. Off-color smudges on the ground showed clearly where furniture had recently sat and fended off dust. A small percentage of that furniture lay in shreds and tatters against walls, in random spots, and in cracks where the rock floor and walls had been split by time¡­or something else. And rectangular smudges stood out on the walls, too, likely from art that¡¯d been destroyed or stolen. The door in the back was mortared into the wall, presumably leading to the tower¡ªI wondered if that was in the same state of disorder. It dawned on me, though, that the place couldn¡¯t have been abandoned. Things weren¡¯t just tossed about. They were set up in their own inhuman patterns. I recognized a splintery, moth-eaten oval as a transformed wooden table with living, sac-like lumps growing on its underside¡­ As my eyes lingered on it, I thought of how city cats used thrown-out sofas as shelters by clawing out the stuffing and coils. With each passing second, I discovered a new pattern in some alcove of the room. It began to look less like a free-for-all and more like a series of camps, as if different animals¡ªdifferent monsters¡ªlived in their own sections. As if we needed to tread lightly, for fear of inciting a turf war. But I haven¡¯t described the most intriguing part of the room: a rough chunk of brassy amber hanging from a bronze chain the way a chandelier might on Earth. Swaying slightly, and glowing. Pulsing. Reed¡¯s face had only a twinge less wonder and fright than mine. She turned to me and whispered, ¡°You don¡¯t know any places like this.¡± I shook my head. ¡°You can¡¯t shoot arrows or¡­other things.¡± I¡­uh¡­again shook my head. ¡°Stay here, please,¡± she said. ¡°Until there¡¯s a fight. I¡¯m going to try for the¡­¡± Another missed word or several. Well, at least wrangling my head around the end of that sentence would keep me occupied while Reed made her next move. But first, she revealed her blade and set it gently next to me. Then she removed a baggie that I hadn¡¯t even seen before¡ªmore stuff from her mysterious Inventory? Even though I made my best confused face at this, she didn¡¯t stop to explain why she couldn¡¯t just keep it behind her back. She just went on ahead into the room, her canteen bobbing at her hip, her shoulders tense. 22. "Cantrip" Kinda Looks Like "Catnip" I couldn¡¯t believe what Reed was doing. First she¡¯d set her weapon, along with a random bag, down beside me. Why? What¡¯d she want me to do, wield it? It was huge. I had no hands. I could shapeshift, but that was a form I had so little experience with. Plus, I¡¯d be wet, nude, and bleeding SP. Once I got over that burst of panic, I realized it¡¯d be logical for Reed to be leaving her weapon with me as a sign that she was coming to the chapel in peace. Maybe whatever monsters dwelled in here would kill an armed enemy on sight¡­even if their arms were hidden in an Inventory, or in some invisible void between their shoulder blades. Even so, I wondered what Reed was actually up to. I¡¯d assumed from my Treasure notification and from the way she and that ranger Donovan and/or possessive condor Murder talked that she was supposed to be searching, yet she didn¡¯t rifle through the chair legs and bits of tablecloth littered around the place. Instead, she walked into the exact center of the room¡ªgot underneath the pulsing, disturbing chunk of amber¡ªand raised her hands straight up into the air, palms forward. Her eyes stayed trained on a stained-glass window on the opposite wall. That window, though dimmed by the swirling ochre clouds of the sky above, showed a riot of raging, almost serpentine golden flames. Flames of magic¡­ Reed was trembling. Her words were measured, though, and steady. I knew it took a great effort to speak at all, in this place, and in this bizarre way. The sound in the chapel was sheltered, even dimly echoing, encased by the rain. Every word came loud and clear. ¡°Spirit of the beacon, we know your name. We revere your might and the wonders your kind has shown us. But you have wronged us. ¡°Five days ago you lured Donovan¡¯s neighbor away and claimed her, taking her out of our mortal plane and into your realm of the spirit. Three days ago, you returned her, but you did not return everything. ¡°We may not be wise, but we are intelligent. We know when the spirits have betrayed a bond of trust. Therefore I know you not by form, but by name, and your name is Traitor. ¡°The cantrip is wanted. Give it back.¡± A ghastly roar from another plane rocked the chapel. A supernatural darkness absorbed everything in the room but the amber beacon. The world went pupil-black, as if all the windows had suddenly been blocked, as if the door had slammed shut. Yet the door was wide open. I was still standing in the bright-brown daytime, peering into a nightmare world. Nothing had changed except for the magic in the air. That sounds corny, but it was true in the most literal, most eerie way. Reed sucked in a gasp and darted toward me and the exit. I hopped sideways to let her through. Inside, the roar was still reverberating¡­ The moment she reached the outside, Reed cupped both hands around her mouth, turned skyward, and yelled her throat out. I stood frozen, still close enough to the door to feel, even while soaked to the skin, something coming. A beast that skittered and crawled, yet was far bigger than any insect I knew. Woah. The enormity of where I was¡ªa new world with its own rules and customs¡ªonly now hit me. Seeing magical parallels of animals was one thing, but dipping a toe into an all-too-clearly real spirituality, or whatever all this was supposed to be, that was different, not just paranormal but existential. I didn¡¯t know a thing about spirits or what they¡¯d taken. I couldn¡¯t decide if Reed honored or hated them. In fact, nothing about this situation was adding up to me. Since I couldn¡¯t ask questions, maybe it never would. But I did know my savior was two steps away from panic. I knew she was struggling. Depending on me. And I figured that I knew evil, exorcism-worthy ghosts when I heard them. I decided that once I got my first look at whatever entity we were up against, I¡¯d activate Swipe, then keep activating it for as long as I had to. My front claws would erupt into a white flame to match the amber. Reed planted herself between me and the broadsword still lying on the ground. She kneeled with fingers touching the ground beside the hilt¡ªmaybe to tell the spirit that while she wouldn¡¯t strike first, she would defend herself at all costs. Darkness curled like claws around the edges of the door and drooled out from the windows. My gut told me this was a magic exactly opposite my own, opposing the raw white magic I¡¯d seen from many animals so far. My magic was new¡ªthis magic was ancient. Mine was shallow and untempered, but this held layers as deep as space. It was getting deeper and denser, and now my sharp eyes couldn¡¯t see inside at all, except for that one glowing piece of amber. Then an earthquake started from inside the building, only barely rattling the ground we stood on while it nearly shook the chapel stones apart. Reed flinched and whimpered beside me, but she didn¡¯t back down. If Reed was going to stand her ground, then so was I. Suddenly, it settled. There was a hush on the rainy mountain. The darkness of the Lighthouse¡ªor the Beacon, rather¡ªdidn¡¯t budge. Reed sighed off as much anxiety as possible and stood upright again, weapon still dropped. I watched the doorway for whatever might emerge. Now the darkness gathered in a different way. It slipped from the walls and pooled into a rising tower¡ªno, a massive, humanoid silhouette, even taller and broader than the door of the place that summoned it. Instead of an outline, the figure gave off constant traces of mist and smoke. While it reminded me of a human in a cloak, it was unspecific, indistinct, nothing but shadow. An amber flicker in its chest¡ªtheir chest? or his?¡ªcame and went. A frail, utterly monotone voice croaked directly from their chest. The trickle of sound somehow reached my ears. Magic words. ¡°You distrusted us,¡± they said. ¡°Yes,¡± Reed said, with bite. ¡°We have to. We¡¯re weak.¡± ¡°And I suppose that is yours too.¡± Though the darkness hadn¡¯t made a single gesture, some subtle shift in the smoke they gave off made Reed and I turn our heads. The shape of a condor named Murder circled the sky above our heads, not so far away. I focused harder on the shape and realized it was fuzzy¡ªand steaming. Murder was a creature of black magic too. Reed turned back¡ªso did I. She said, ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°You want the cantrip,¡± they said. There was that new word again, ¡°cantrip.¡± Reed had said it at least once in the campsite, and I hadn¡¯t parsed it right at all. While I had no clue what it meant, from the thin lips of the darkness, it sounded so distinct. Then the spirit asked a blunt question: ¡°Why.¡± ¡°It¡¯s important,¡± said Reed. ¡°Not irreplaceable, and neither is the girl.¡± Reed switched modes. She returned to the booming voice and conviction she¡¯d used when she was talking to the chunk of amber. It sounded almost rehearsed. Considering the holy or unholy nature of everything going on, I now realized much of it probably was. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡°To mortals, all life is sacred,¡± she said. ¡°All memories are treasures. It¡¯s not your place to talk about replacements. Layla¡¯s cantrip has been forged out of common Vencian material, and therefore it is replaceable. It cannot possibly be more valuable to you than it is to her, for it is rich with memories and already it lives within her soul. Layla¡¯s cantrip is her own. If she says it can never be replaced, then she is the decider. Let it be so.¡± ¡°Then it may be so,¡± the spirit said in an instant. ¡°You agree? Then will you return them?¡± Reed said. She was sliding back into her own voice and a tear-fighting tremor. ¡°W-why did you take it?¡± The darkness didn¡¯t respond. I was on pins and needles waiting for the right time to Swipe. convinced that this negotiation would end in a brawl one way or another. This pause could have been the calm before that storm. ¡°What do you feed on? Is it the memories?¡± ¡°The blood.¡± This time the reply was instant. Reed began to shiver in the stifling rain, and I felt helpless by her side. Her shoulders sagged with a heavy sigh. Then she reached for one arm and yanked up the sleeve. ¡°It can¡¯t have more blood than this.¡± Oh no, Reed. ¡°Blood magic¡± was what vampires used. My gut told me that couldn¡¯t be a good thing, not even in this universe. I knew I was an interloper here, not acclimated to the rules of this world, but¡­I was getting frightened. I¡¯d have to start a panic if this was going to be anything more than a nick on the wrist. Considering the blade at her feet, that was probably not the case here. The condor above us screeched. A bark of laughter shook the brown light in the shadow¡¯s chest. I nearly fainted. The peal went wide, reaching all the way to the bird. Then the shadow said, sedately again, ¡°No, not that kind of blood.¡± I squinted at the shadow¡¯s idea of a joke, but Reed seemed to get it, picking up her sword and backing into a fighting stance. ¡°You, you¡­jerk,¡± she sighed. ¡°You were playing coy all along.¡± ¡°A battle. Yes,¡± the spirit said. ¡°Why? Why us? We¡¯re not special, we¡¯ve never¡ª¡± The spirit interrupted her, a thin brown smile cutting across its chest. ¡°I was invited. This world is fun.¡± Agh! They said ¡°battle¡±! Here it was! And despite the Swipe I¡¯d just now activated, I was only barely ready! I would¡¯ve Leaped right away onto the silhouette¡¯s chest area if Reed hadn¡¯t already reached it¡ªand begun to stab. She took one sturdy step forward, aiming to plunge the sword into its amber chest. And the condor Murder was flying in just as fast. I didn¡¯t have to look this time to feel that he was coming, emanating that same eerie energy I felt from the chapel and its monster. Instead I did what a rock had done to me earlier: aimed for the feet. (Assuming the darkness even had feet.) Instead of focusing on what we all were doing, I put myself in momentary tunnel vision. Adding a Leap, I sprang into the base of the shadows, claws ready. I tumbled and Swiped straight through. Physically, it was like rolling through pure misty clouds¡ªpsychologically, it flooded me with a fear I could hardly even place, a lonely fear. In a burst, I was out on the other side, my deepest fear swept away. Had I even done anything, or had I just swatted through scary clouds? When I landed, the first thing I did was turn, which confirmed that I did change something. I¡¯d torn an odd hole in the shadows. Also, Reed had driven her sword through the chest. At that instant Murder landed behind her, profoundly large, his height almost Reed¡¯s, his wingspan now three meters wide, large enough to blot the sky. That didn¡¯t remove all of my concerns¡ªin fact, his sudden bigness added new ones¡ªbut he was our ally, so I guessed it was good. I was in full-on high-energy high-disorientation mode. So my one attack had evidently failed. What could I do now?! Think, Taipha! Just wait and observe a little longer! Keeping a bit of distance, I took stock of what Reed was doing. Yes, she had a sword squarely through the spirit¡¯s chest, but she was struggling to push it in further. A sound of cracking crystal was coming from the chest¡ªthat might¡¯ve been a crystal inside, struggling to hold. Murder wasn¡¯t moving, he seemed to be studying the situation as hard as I was, but wow was he huge and hard not to fearfully stare at. When I darted closer, near the side of the shadows, I saw something chilling: the dark magic was crawling up Reed¡¯s sword, trying to break her just as surely as she was trying to break it. Nnngh! There had to be something useful and impressive I could do! Swipe¡¯s time had run out earlier, so I used another¡ªthe last Swipe I had in me¡ªand, with a long involuntary whimper, started wildly swatting the base of the shadow. Maybe if I did this long enough, it¡¯d fall like a Jenga tower and splatter everywhere! A final grunt came from Reed and her sword. A decisive fracture cricked from the amber core. Murder kept staring. I kept swatting. The shadow being collapsed into rolling clouds of dustless ruin. I kept swatting. A wave of existential unease passed through my body, then dissipated, leaving me feeling¡­refreshed. Heedless of this, I kept swatting. The rain got a little heavier and that got me to pause and reconsider. I blinked as a pile of rocks hit the ground. Most of them were rough chunks of amber, ranging from pebble-sized to powder. The other one was a flat, palm-sized, polished rock. Not a gemstone, just a rock, only it was really smooth, with only the most delicate and shallow patterns carved into its face. It all seemed to have been dropped by the darkness itself. I wasn¡¯t a total foolish loser, so I figured the other one had to be the cantrip faithfully returned. Reed bent down and collected the cantrip, leaving the amber in its pile. Actually, the wind, coming in a random gust, was taking care of that part. Reed turned to Murder, bowed, and said, ¡°Thank you for your protection and your aid.¡± A beat of his wings sent the gust swirling and a good amount of the amber inside of the dark chapel. Maybe not a random gust, then. Below torn sleeves, Reed had disturbing marks on her arms from the fight, which looked like deep-gray, foggy bruises. But even as I watched them, they were fading. ¡°¡­Uh,¡± Reed said, her voice so quickly going back to normal, ¡°I noticed that you don¡¯t like each other, so I hope this has all been okay.¡± ¡°Caw,¡± Murder said. ¡°Meow?¡± Taipha said (that¡¯s me). ¡°Oh! You probably don¡¯t even know what Murder was doing here, do you? Eheh¡­sorry. He¡¯s a sort of guardian spirit. He makes sure that the incoming wicked spirits and monsters and entities of that nature can¡¯t escape to the wider world. He was suspicious of you at first, but¡­now things seem alright?¡± ¡°Caw,¡± Murder said, seemingly in the affirmative? Okay. I¡¯d accept it. ¡°Meow,¡± I said with a thankful nod to Murder. Knowing that he dealt with some of the wicked spirits flowing into Vencia cast him in a new light. And Reed, given her knowledge of some kind of anti-spirit library of chants and declarations. Should I have been scared? No, I decided. Just don¡¯t be wicked and you¡¯ll be fine. Mere moments ago, thick black magic had been bristling off of Murder¡¯s enormous wingspan. Now, though, not only was there no visible magic, but the bird himself was shrinking. Reed darted back from the chapel door as he strode forward, pecked briefly at the brown crystal dust that remained, and then gazed inward, into the scattered devastation. It seemed he was studying the larger chunk of amber, which had stopped its pulsing and spirit-summoning. Clearly Murder didn¡¯t like it. Y¡¯know¡­I could appreciate that.
Complete!
Quest: Solve a Mystery¡ªThe Ranger and the Condor on Reed¡¯s Mountain
Rewards: +Bonus EXP! +5000 Gold!
A text box burst into my face with some extremely satisfying information! Though some of it was weird¡­what did I even have gold for? Wouldn¡¯t that take up one of my three valuable rabbit-flesh-holding slots? Where was the Meat Locker?
Level Up!
Lv. 6 ¡ú Lv. 10
Oh. Oh. 23. Too Strong Too Fast
Level Up!
Lv. 6 ¡ú Lv. 10
Here it was! The huge, monumental stream of Level-Ups that I¡¯d been subconsciously chasing since the day I decided to chart the Vencian Wood! It was a little hard to concentrate on a single thing with Reed leading me back behind the chapel on a bitterly cold and rainy mountain, but I was so pumped to see my Stat advancements that I couldn¡¯t not¡ª
Error: Orange Tabby is capped at Lv. 8.
¡­oh.
Lv. 6 ¡ú Lv. 8
EXP: OVERFLOW
HP 100% (165/165)
SP 100% (130/130)
ATK 22
INT 12 (+1!)
DEF 17
WIS 10
SPD 19 (+1!)
New Skill!
Catnap: Nap on the road to regain a small amount of HP.
Ah, okay, cool, but¡­not what I¡¯d been told I was¡­getting? Also, where was the gold¡ª
In order to Level Up further, you must Evolve into a new form.
Oh, o¡­kay¡­
Would you like to Evolve now? (Yes / No)
Yes, yes, an unequivocal yes! ¡°Uh, hello my friend?¡± Reed said. ¡°Are you alright?¡± I was so entranced by my System right now that her voice, which had been rambling all along, sounded like a whisper in the ocean. I was finally at that threshold I¡¯d been dreaming of, the glorious, the spectacular¡ªthe Evolution-y¡ªLevel 8. And beyond! I could acknowledge Reed later!
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 13% (4/30)
And that! That would be for later too! Back to that tantalizing Evolution box:
You have chosen to Evolve now. This change is permanent. Once you have Evolved, you cannot go back, nor can you choose between adjacent Evolutions on your Evolution Tree. Are you sure you wish to continue?
Come on, now. Enough with the trees and the big words I barely knew. What kind of fool would I be if I didn¡¯t continue? YES!
Evolution Confirmed.
Options are available: Char Witch Strengths: INT, SPD Weaknesses: ATK, DEF Unique Trait: Flit: INT and WIS increase at night. Mystical and elusive in nature, this cat specializes in ranged offensive Skills.
Ash Heather Strengths: ATK, SPD Weaknesses: DEF, WIS Unique Trait: Stealth: SPD increases when alone and unseen. Cool and crafty, this cat is a close-combat warrior and all-out hunter.
Cream Persian Strengths: DEF, WIS Weaknesses: SPD, ATK Unique Trait: Ambient Knowledge: During a long battle, DEF and WIS increase gradually. With healing Skills and high defensive Stats, this cat makes an ideal teammate.
Tip: Those with low aptitudes in the physical Stats should not be dissuaded from Evolving into more physically oriented forms, and likewise for the magical Stats. Forms that currently have no physical or magical combat options may gain such options later.
Actually¡­that was a lot of information. Way too much. Maybe I didn¡¯t want to Evolve right here right now. Maybe I wanted to ponder this text box¡ªwhich, by the way, was so long that it had its own mini-box on the side. The back of my mind called it a ¡°scroll bar.¡± The rest called it a sub-box rectangular box. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. I swatted the text box. It stayed in place. I stood waiting a few seconds. It didn¡¯t leave. Reed kneeled in front of me. I could tell that by her smell and by the fifteen percent of the world that wasn¡¯t currently obscured. ¡°Please talk to me,¡± she said, rain battering her back. Oh, crap. It was raining hard now. We were going to get sick out here if we waited any longer. I snapped out of my Evolution-focused meandering. The text box didn¡¯t leave, though. It truly was going to stay in my vision until I picked one, wasn¡¯t it¡­ Okay, to make this easier on myself and ensure I didn¡¯t trip on any more hidden rocks, I decided to pretend-faint. Plop. Please carry me, Reed. *** The cold seeped into our very bones. Reed had me cradled in her arms for what felt like endless sprinting minutes. As sorry as I was for forcing her to do this for me, I was mentally worn out¡ªthat much was true¡ªand I got the feeling that if I kept struggling to see around my text box, I¡¯d vomit. So I mostly kept my eyes closed. At least Reed¡¯s chest was nice and warm. I still couldn¡¯t remember the name of those round¡­chest¡­objects¡­things. Could I get it this time? What were they? Ribs? When we returned to the campsite, it was pouring and we were drenched. The camp was safe, though. Back when we were leaving, the ranger Donovan set up this huge, sturdy tarp over all of it. This tarp seemed like something he couldn¡¯t possibly have taken with him by normal Earth means. I¡¯d been hoping to get a better look at Reed¡¯s water-and-muesli machine, but I didn¡¯t, thanks to the rain and my face-clogging notification. If I dared swivel my head at just the right interval in Reed¡¯s walk, though, I could kinda see it: a big heavy box with spiderlike legs, hanging out under the edge of the tarp. Was that a faucet on there, just, like, casually sticking out? Murder and Donovan were also back, one sitting and the other resting on a gloved hand, both studying a lit fire. My gut reaction was disgust, because I remembered the way Donovan had nearly tread on my face and the way Murder had stared murder into me. But in hindsight, had I been overreacting? ¡­No, not exactly. They looked even more unsettling now, Donovan staring zombifically into a flame that didn¡¯t light his eyes at all. But now I started to feel bad about my reaction. Reed had explained things¡ªnot particularly well, in the end, and yet knowing that she trusted the two of them now put me more at ease. This was a strange world. A world where magic that baffled me could be mundane. But if Murder truly was an old and revered guardian spirit, maybe this was nothing worse than an old man leaning on a young one for support. In this case, I did not want the old man to be murdering me. He was calmly studying the fire too, instead of studying me. Good. The moment we got back to camp, Reed ran to her suitcase, crammed one arm through a tight opening, and yanked out two heavenly soft towels. First, she wrapped me in one and put my bundled body on a stone. Second, she plunged her head in the other towel, shook herself out like a dog, and made a sound between a ¡°brr¡± and a raspberry. After that, my eyes were firmly shut in sublime comfort and relaxation. Reed and Donovan and/or Murder got to talking again. I couldn¡¯t understand anything they said through the low volume, the rain, and the battered tarp, and over the crackling fire, but I could tell they were happier. Relieved. A precious cantrip would be returned. I smelled sausages over the fire. I heard two new bowls, one of water and one of a new unidentified grain product, arrive in front of me. Yet I wasn¡¯t exactly hungry, so I stayed bundled up. Even though I didn¡¯t feel tired, increasingly my brain did. I had reached that point where merely existing was oddly exhausting and napping seemed like the greatest short death in the world. Good night, me¡­ *** I hated waking up when the party was over. Either I wanted to get in on the middle of the action, or the start of it. This was an exception, though. Murder and Donovan had, on one hand, technically and inadvertently taken me on an astounding adventure the likes of which I¡¯d never dreamed of. On the other, I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to have a conversation with them. They seemed surly, and they weren¡¯t who I¡¯d come for. I woke up with the sound of rain still tapping above me. The tarp was different, though, oddly translucent, and the sound was softer. Thanks, Reed. The text box was still in my face, pushing all useful outer-world info to the limits of my vision. Still, the beautiful wheat-colored glow of sunny rainclouds in the Vencian twilight illuminated the box¡¯s edges, coming through a friendly tarp. I could hear Reed whittling wood from the stone seat beside me. I could feel the quilt around me, glimpse the cream color of my used towel hanging over Reed¡¯s spider suitcase. I could smell a cold sausage coiled around the edge of my oat-mush bowl.
Food: Garnished Oatmeal
A combination of water, oats, nuts, and spices which is delicious, but only while in nekomata form. Nourishing, but won¡¯t heal HP or SP.
I meant oatmeal bowl. The chunk of conglomerated water, oats, nuts, and spices landed back in the bowl, and the tiny text box disappeared from its place on top of the big one. Having missed my opportunity to launch my muesli out of Reed¡¯s sight while I¡¯d had the chance, I dimly wondered what to do with it. Now that I was awake, comfortable, well-rested, and as un-distracted as possible¡­ Let¡¯s strategize.
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
I¡¯m not helping you with this.
I didn¡¯t mean ¡°let¡¯s¡± as in ¡°me and you¡±! It¡¯s just a figure of speech to get me pumped! Besides, ¡°let¡¯s¡± isn¡¯t even ¡°huh¡±! I knew myself. I knew what I wanted out of life and my abilities. And I knew that picking an Evolution should have been straightforward. Basically, my choices were a cleric, a mage, and a warrior. I knew these words thanks to my storehouse of human knowledge, but¡­I had no practical experience with any of them. Cats aren¡¯t playing MMOs. So the only one that rang true for me was the warrior, the Ash Heather. What was its Trait again? Stealth. Who couldn¡¯t use that? Then again¡­who couldn¡¯t use the Char Witch¡¯s magic? Who wouldn¡¯t benefit from the ability to fling a fireball in someone¡¯s face¡ªespecially long-distance? I¡¯d always liked the elusiveness of a black cat, the way humans pointed at them, danced around them, missed them when they stood in shadow. Who couldn¡¯t use that air of mystery? Wouldn¡¯t I be so much cooler if I was aloof now and then? The Cream Persian¡­nah, that was an instant no.
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
I thought you had a problem with losing too much HP too quickly.
I thought you had a problem shutting up.
Well, alright, then.
I liked to believe she felt genuinely bad after that comeback, but¡­I could never really tell with Sierra. In any case, despite me spending time with the human Reed, I was not about to leash myself to others by virtue of a supportive Skillset. Also, was I totally sure the new healing Skills would even work on me, myself? The descriptions of these forms weren¡¯t as detailed as what I¡¯d gotten when I became an Orange Tabby, so maybe I¡¯d only find out once I¡¯d already Evolved. Eugh. Who cared about more healing, anyway¡ªI¡¯d just gotten Catnap. So there were only two options that pleased me: the Char Witch and the Ash Heather. One would make me cooler. The other one would make me¡­more me. Ash Heather would enhance the talents I already possessed. Was I supposed to choose what made me comfortable, or choose what made me stretch?
Either. It¡¯s your build, honey.
G-g-get out of here! The whittling paused. Whoops. I must¡¯ve been moving unconsciously, alerting Reed. That was what I deserved for being so riled up over a bunch of floating boxes. This wasn¡¯t really the time for me to check in with her, though. All she¡¯d find would be me staring into the middle distance, and that wouldn¡¯t relieve her at all. I still hadn¡¯t made my decision. It felt like comparing apples to oranges¡ªor, in an analogy more fitting for cats, comparing fish to rabbits. These were both great tastes, and I simply wasn¡¯t going to be able to try both. Well, on the bright side, the note at the top of the Evolution box implied that I¡¯d get another chance to try elements of either build. This was not the end of my journey. This next form was not my last. Sunlight was fading from the sky, and the rain weakened by another degree. The day was over, but I was just getting started. Reed stood up from her stone. At the same time, I rose from my quilt. I had made my decision. I was ready to Evolve¡ªand she might as well watch. 24. More! ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Reed said, setting down her carving project. Nothing was wrong, but she¡¯d probably be shocked when she saw what I was about to do. ¡°Are you showing me something?¡± I looked straight at her. Meaning, of course, that I couldn¡¯t see her past the enormous text box still obscuring my vision. It wouldn¡¯t go until I Evolved, and I decided to show her the process. After all, if we were already in the same campsite and everything, and as long as I was going to change cat-types at all, she might as well see this weird thing I do now. Better for her to know than to be scared. Or try to stab me. I chose my Evolution. At the same time, I chose to Morph into a nekomata. I exploded into not just smoke, but beams of light. I couldn¡¯t feel my body as I changed, as if I was nothing but the ethereal glow. When the light was gone, when my feet were firmly back on earth, when I was done Evolving¡­I had become more like myself. My long, wavy hair had become plush gray. I stared at it, cupped it in my hands like it was water. For the first time I noticed how delicately my hair waved and curled. It caught the light of the fire, but it didn¡¯t shine, exactly. It just had an aura of soft, collected light. It was like, like¡­ Like the nice heather glow of a gray cat¡¯s fur. Only seconds later did I raise my head and look at Reed. She¡¯d been staring at me. Which part of me, I couldn¡¯t say, because as soon as I looked up, she looked down at the dirt between us. ¡°Uh,¡± she said with a serious blush, ¡°am I supposed to¡­did you want me to¡­keep looking? Even if I start to stare?¡± She made this so complicated! It was fine whether she stared or not! I just wanted to show myself and have her look at whatever she wanted, for as long as she wanted. Fine, maybe I didn¡¯t want her to keep looking for an hour, but that was getting extreme. This humanoid body didn¡¯t feel much like it belonged to me anyway. It felt half-body, half-costume. And even though I all too keenly noticed the breeze whenever I Morphed, I sure hadn¡¯t manifested the clothing-based embarrassment that humans had. ¡­Oh, right. That was why Reed was blushing so hard, wasn¡¯t it? I walked back to the quilt, gave it a good shake, and wrapped it around myself. Though it had easily swallowed up my cat body, it wasn¡¯t so big on a nekomata. When I secured it around my shoulders, it barely came down past my waist. ¡°Mah?¡± I said, tilting my head. Reed chuckled nervously and raised her head again. ¡°Better,¡± she said, ¡°in some ways¡­¡± I tilted my head the other way. ¡°Mah?¡± ¡°I meant that¡­your body looks good. N-not that you should be trying to please me with your body!¡± she cried, waving her hands in denial. ¡°You¡¯re perfect as you are! Perfect as a cat, perfect as a human! You¡¯d even be perfect if you were ugly!!¡± Unsure how to respond to this, I settled on a little smile. This calmed Reed down¡­slightly. She was currently a mess of forced giggles, and I didn¡¯t know how to interpret it. Did my smile even look right? It was gonna be tough to adapt to human norms, including making facial expressions. Since I¡¯d lived alone for all my past life, I hadn¡¯t even fully gotten used to communicating with my own kind. Yet it was a challenge I was willing to take. But only because Reed was so nice. Right after I¡¯d finished Evolving about two minutes back, a text box had appeared to tell me all my Stat gains. I¡¯d willed it away, but now it came back¡ªas if it knew just when I could spare a moment.
Evolution Complete!
Orange Tabby ¡ú Ash Heather
New and Upgraded Traits!
Morph (Stage 2/5): Can become a nekomata at will. Somewhat limited time. Human Language (Stage 2/2): Can thoroughly comprehend, and think in, the human languages used around you. Now you have everything you need to communicate on Vencia! Inventory (Stage 2/5): Can carry up to 5 item types in a personal magical vacuum. Max quantity of each item: 9. Stealth: SPD increases when alone and unseen.
Level Up!
Lv. 8 ¡ú Lv. 10
EXP: 34% (510/1500)
HP 100% (230/230)
SP 100% (185/185)
ATK 37
INT 24
DEF 26
WIS 17
SPD 33
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
New Skills!
Guard: Magically increase DEF. Meditate: Magically increase WIS.
Th-this was¡­exactly as mouth-watering as I¡¯d imagined it would be! I had new strength, new powers (okay, they were shields instead of fun new attacks, but still), and if my cat math and cat memory were correct, my Attack had shot through the roof. Hadn¡¯t it been in the 20s earlier? Well, now it was close to doubling that. Even my lower Stats had gotten a significant boost. All of it disappeared the moment I was done reading it. Good box. I turned my attention back to Reed, who was scratching her head and still struggling to get a grip on herself. ¡°So this is you,¡± she said warmly. ¡°Meow meow,¡± I replied. ¡°¡®Meow meow¡¯ back!¡± she said¡­again warmly, but kind of unintentionally insultingly. It wasn¡¯t my fault I could only say a handful of variations on the same cat word. Wait a minute. My Stage 1 Human Language Trait had gone up to Stage 2, meaning I could¡­ I could say so much now! Unless the universe was about to pull some major schadenfreude on me¡ªlike making the only words I could say ¡°meow,¡± ¡°bark¡± and ¡°moo.¡± Well, I had to try. The first word I attempted¡ªthe first official spelling-bee dictionary word¡ªwas ¡°name.¡± After the name-related mishap earlier, I so badly wanted to share my name, and I sensed that Reed badly wanted to hear it. It wasn¡¯t the name itself that mattered so much to me. It was what sharing names represented. ¡°Taipha¡± could be my way of staking a claim on my new home. And¡­yeah, it could also help me forge human alliances. Get to know them better. I wondered about Reed. I didn¡¯t want her to turn me away. What I wanted to say was ¡°name.¡± What I actually said was ¡°meh.¡± This puzzled Reed. ¡°Huh?¡± she said. Augh! ¡°Meh¡± was hardly different from ¡°mah!¡± ¡°Neh!¡± I cried, this time with feeling. This confused Reed even more. She raised a worried hand to her face. ¡°Did I do something wrong?¡± ¡°Neh!¡± I cried again, shaking my head furiously. I was actually tearing up at this! If I couldn¡¯t get this dinky little word right, then what was the point of even trying? Why was it that I could meet this girl time after time and still not give her something as simple as a name? ¡°Neh,¡± I said, my head down. I sounded like a baby. I hated it. At that moment, Reed understood. She stood up and came closer, beginning to wrap her arms around me and the quilt. ¡°Hey,¡± she said gently. ¡°Is it alright if I hug you?¡± I sniffled and nodded my head the slightest bit. She held me close. Even when I was a nekomata, she was slightly taller than me. I rested my chin on her shoulder, felt how neatly it slid into place. My ear twitched against her magenta hair. ¡°You don¡¯t have to move too fast,¡± she said. ¡°If talking is hard, then please, don¡¯t feel you have to talk.¡± But that only made tears roll down my cheeks. ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry for asking about your name,¡± Reed continued. Oh no¡­now she was crying too. I could hear it in her shaking voice. ¡°I didn¡¯t know it would¡­¡± We stood like that for a minute, the fire crackling nearby, the rain hitting the near-transparent tarp above. Our tears rolled down, and then they dried. When I¡¯d started crying, I thought there was no way I¡¯d be able to distract myself from the idea that I might never share this part of myself with anyone, no way that I¡¯d be able to get to know anyone in Vencia. But now time had passed, and now she was holding me. I found my thoughts drifting to the warmth of her embrace, then to the stars passing somewhere above the clouds. Weirdly, I¡¯d never paid attention to Vencia¡¯s night sky¡­I¡¯d always been too focused on surviving in the trees below. There were stars here, right? Would the stars look much different in Vencia? Up here? With someone else? I was the one who pulled away. Reed dropped her arms and nodded in acceptance. She whispered, ¡°Should I talk less too?¡± ¡­That was a good question. I understood what she was trying to do¡ªif talking made me uncomfortable, let¡¯s neither of us talk at all¡ªbut I did like hearing her speak, and I didn¡¯t want to stifle that no matter the intention. The pressure for me to speak seemed to come from my heart, not really from her. In the end, I shook my head ¡°no.¡± Then I bowed a little bit and tried to speak again. This time I went more slowly. I formed each word deliberately. I had to be an artisan, shaping my mouth around words the way a potter formed a bowl. And then I had to try again, with patience. ¡°Theh¡­theh¡­thank¡­you. Thank you.¡± Reed sniffled. ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± she said. Crying and struggling to speak had done something strange to me: it had closed my dry throat up. It would be hard to speak again, for a while. ¡­Especially with my SP dropping as fast as it was.
HP 100% (230/230)
SP 19% (36/185)
How was it that the first time I¡¯d Morphed, I only lost a sliver of SP despite walking for several slow minutes? Maybe it¡¯d happened that way because Sierra had been giving me an easy-mode, tutorial-style push. Maybe it had to do with the type of activity I was doing, the amount of stress. Or maybe the reason was simpler: my System was just as capricious as the goddess was. In any case, I wasn¡¯t going to let the System boot me out of nekomata form this time. I could do it myself. Poof. And then I was a cat again. Same cat size, same cat body, with maybe a bit more muscle and bulk. The only major difference was my fur. That quilt I¡¯d been wearing collapsed on the dirt around me. ¡°Was that intentional?¡± Reed asked. Um¡­it was an edge case. I shook my head, since my transformation was still limited-time-only. Reed put a finger to her chin. ¡°So that form is limited in some way¡­¡± I nodded. Then I flopped on the ground the way I would before a nap, but kept looking steadily in her eyes. ¡°Are you saying that you would need a nap to¡­to do it again?¡± I nodded vigorously. ¡°Then I won¡¯t stop you!¡± she chirped. It seemed like the more nervous she got, the louder. But I didn¡¯t want to nap¡ªnot yet, anyway. To show her I still had energy, I dashed around in circles, chasing my own tail. She got it instantly. ¡°Then we¡¯ll stay up together,¡± she said. ¡°I can¡¯t sleep either. It¡¯s not often I have guests¡­¡± Maybe our conversations were still games of charades, but tonight I decided I could deal with that. When I was in the mood, it was fun¡ªand after the rollercoaster I¡¯d just been on, I was definitely yearning for fun. 25. Night Flight
Evolution Complete!
Ash Heather Style: Stalk and Slay These cats might look like the softest pillows in the animal kingdom, but beneath that legendary fur lurks a body built tough. With brainpower just above the minimum threshold, they are somewhat capable of tactics and evasiveness as well.
I continued to be unsure why my System kept hammering in my lack of Intelligence and Wisdom, but whatever. This time I¡¯d chosen that path, so while I felt nonplussed about it, I felt non¡­minused about it too. But there were more pressing matters to attend to, like the question of how I was gonna spend the rest of tonight! Reed¡¯s footsteps buoyed me along. As night reigned, she and I made a winding way through the mountain¡¯s woodlands. The rain had calmed down significantly, but it was still drizzling. Having been out in the rain for about two hours straight quite recently, I wasn¡¯t bothered so much by the water at this point. Reed, however, was starting to sneeze. ¡°It¡¯s totally my fault,¡± she¡¯d said at the campsite, laughing it off. ¡°I could¡¯ve easily brought an umbrella or a poncho earlier.¡± Then her voice had grown distant. ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­I was just¡­not thinking.¡± When I¡¯d proposed to her that we wrestle¡ªby pointing first to her sword, then to my claws, then barking and rolling around at mach speed¡ªshe politely declined. She didn¡¯t wanna wrestle precariously close to the fire. Nor did she wanna wrestle in the rain. But I was such an Experience hog that it was the only thing I really wanted to do. And I was restless enough, fresh off of a long slumber, that I wasn¡¯t ready to just poke around camp. ¡°Oh!¡± Reed had said, pointing a modest finger in the air. ¡°If you want some physical activity, you can go exploring.¡± Yay! I jumped to my feet and made a beeline for the woods. Then I looked over my shoulder to make sure that she came alo¡ª She was still sitting there? I was used to going alone, wasn¡¯t I? So this was no big deal? But¡­I liked the extra security, and¡­and also she was nice. No, not just that! I wanted to see her in action! Not just running around or planting one blow in a shadow-beast, but some actual, sword-slinging antics! Maybe I could prod her to do some showing off. I¡¯d widened my eyes and lowered my ears, putting on my weepy look, and given her a come-along gesture with my paw. ¡°Aw, I didn¡¯t mean for this to come off like a rejection,¡± she¡¯d said. ¡°Of course I¡¯ll come along.¡± My tail had wriggled in delight. Not like a dog¡¯s tail, which is more of a wiggle. Like the shaking of a dangling noodle. You¡¯d have to see it. Now she was walking by my side through the forest, trying to hold her umbrella over the two of us and, for the most part, failing. As giddy as I had been about the idea of facing off against Reed¡¯s buster sword and seeing how much EXP she¡¯d radiate, having her as an adventuring partner was the next best thing. I wondered if walking around without light was typical for her. I wondered if she frequently went hunting. I wondered what she¡¯d been doing last night when she shot that wolf. Agh! Just a flood of random questions. All in due time, Taipha. ¡°Taipha¡±¡­ It occurred to me that in my sad struggle to share my name with Reed, I¡¯d made a huge oversight. I didn¡¯t have to say my name, I just had to share it. I could really just write it. Maybe that would turn out easier. The last time I¡¯d tried reading human words beyond my System¡¯s text alerts, it¡¯d just looked like soup. Knowing that illegible things were letters, and letters that I¡¯d seen before, had the potential to be massively frustrating. But then I looked at it this way: reading letters wasn¡¯t the same as writing them. All it took to write was to hold an image in my head and copy it. Step one was pretty much automatic for me, so¡ª A cackle came from the trees ahead. I stopped in my tracks and swiveled my head. Reed stopped with me. ¡°You wanna go after it?¡± she whispered. I looked at her with my shiny yellow eyes and nodded. ¡°¡­You wanna know what it is?¡± she said, a little worried. Um¡­yeah? Unless it was a big bad evil spirit, in which case maybe I didn¡¯t wanna know? Why would she ask that? I didn¡¯t know how to express that. Reed was confusing me too much. I turned toward the cackling and scampered. Too bad I couldn¡¯t use my new Stealth Trait to go that little bit faster, not with Reed nearby¡ªbut now that I¡¯d Evolved, I had an uptick in Speed anyway. Reed followed a few steps, but no further. I heard her replace her ¡°protective¡± umbrella with a sword. Backup. Although¡­maybe she should¡¯ve found a way to keep the umbrella out too? Maybe balanced on her head? Colds aren¡¯t fun. I tried to help her keep a good idea of where I was. After running several meters downslope, I now stopped at the base of a pine tree, directly below the source of the sound. I had a theory about what had made it, and now I twisted my head and neck slowly from side to side, squinting, smelling, trying to test that theory. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. I couldn¡¯t see anything through the pine needles, except for blurs that might have been either animals or more pine needles. But I heard a fresh cackle, and it¡¯d moved higher up into the tree. Okay, whatever kind of animal this was, they had to be baiting me. Tonight I was feeling strong and safe enough to take that bait. Yes, even with my SP still far below baseline.
SP 19% (36/185)
Skills
Swipe SP Cost: 50 Leap SP Cost: 30 Catnap SP Cost: 30 Guard SP Cost: 15 Meditate SP Cost: 15
On second thought, every single one of my usable Skills was a horrible option for close combat. I could Leap and manage a quick escape, but¡­darn, was I really limited to defensive and evasive moves? No, scratch that¡ªmy biggest frustration wasn¡¯t the selection, it was still my SP! After all that work trying to get wiser and stuff, I was still severely limited. I¡¯d known what kind of risk I was taking when I Evolved into the Ash Heather, and now I just had to hope that in a few more Levels I¡¯d get some truly incredible, offensive Skill that costed less. But I quit chiding the System and chiding myself. What¡¯s done is done. And I dismissed my sudden question of whether using Meditate might raise my SP temporarily somehow with the simplest answer of all: action. Direct and change-making action. I got out my claws and stuck them in the tree bark. No pretense of silent secrecy here, just the threatening thunk of wood punctured by nature¡¯s daggers. I scaled the tree and felt like some rogue climbing up a guard tower. With ATK this high, I might not need a Skill. I remained kind of a slow climber, not only going down but coming up. At least my Evolution did, again, give me boosts. I felt like I was having an easier time navigating my climb, judging which part of the tree to scale next. Like all those points in Intelligence weren¡¯t just for show after all. I got higher and higher, and then I saw a flash. It was a reflective green eye, winking shut. To humans, it would have read as ¡°angry.¡± But unless that creature was an ape or a bizarre magical creature, it could only have been the face of¡­ An owl! A little brown screeching owl who flapped their little wings and danced from foot to foot. I was just below their branch when they pranced over, stood just above me, and cackled in my face: ¡°Cah-hah-hah-hah!¡± I hissed loudly back¡ªnot just because the sound was annoying, but also in hopes of tipping a distant Reed off. The battle was here. Hoping to shock the owl, I jumped off the tree trunk and onto the branch, my paws coming straight for them. The bird was half my size, definitely not as threatening as the worst of the owls I¡¯d run from. But they were twice my Speed¡ªthey hopped to the side. I banged my legs against the branch, but I was prepared for the blow. Looping my paws around the branch, I swung my lower legs up, scrabbled upright¡ªand then we were both steady on the battlefield, poised. My typical strategy was to go fast and go far, but it dawned on me now that that wouldn¡¯t work so well on such a fragile, thin stage. If I gave chase, the owl could come after me¡­or ignore me. The best tactic seemed to be to let this owl strike first. The owl was more than willing. With a quick step back, they opened their beak wide. A massive, monstrous retching sound beyond anything I¡¯d imagined that owl could make came pouring out, an echo that wrecked my ears. It rattled the tree itself¡ªdown to the roots. I froze in utter shock as the sound swamped my ears and body. It felt way more devastating than it should have, adding new aches to my limbs even as I stood there doing nothing but enduring. What kind of weird attack was this?
HP 77% (177/230)
There was no physical contact, yet my Health went down¡­ Was this what offensive magic was like when it wasn¡¯t attached to claws and shells? Huh. It wasn¡¯t as cool as wolf fires and ice beams. The owl kept screaming and my Health kept sliding down. I started moving forward, but was met with a surprise: a pressure like a strong wind, seemingly far too strong to have come from the puny owl it was coming from. These magic soundwaves doubled as a gale-force wind¡­no, a gale-force force keeping me in place. I might¡¯ve Leaped forward to bridge the gap, but I was so afraid of squandering my SP on a failure of a pounce that I held bad. And yet¡­ugh! If I couldn¡¯t get close enough to Swipe, then what was the point? Wait! I saw what the universe was trying to do. This was probably the perfect time for me to use Guard! ¡ªWait, no, not Guard, the magical Guard! Meditate! Phew, that was almost a disaster. While the idea of pausing to enter a state of tranquility during pitched combat did scare me, I hadn¡¯t yet hit half Health, so I was just willing enough to try. Meditate. Time seemed to slow down. I knew it wasn¡¯t any slower. This wasn¡¯t the power of a rusty rock. This was a moment of clarity, a spark in the mind¡¯s eye. It felt like a tiny aura explosion in my brain had snapped all my senses to full attention. That was the conscious change that Meditate made within me. The unconscious change was the way my body and breathing shifted. It was the way that explosion of aura seeped into every fiber of my being. All this was a power-up, but a subtle one. I guessed that was why it raised Wisdom and not something more easily quantifiable.
WIS 26 (+50%)
The sonic blasts hadn¡¯t stopped, and they were still hurting me, but somehow they hurt a lot less. What once felt like a harsh wind had all the power of a breeze. I no longer had enough SP to even use a Leap, but what I could do was double down on my ferocity and hope that the owl would be too scared to change strategies. For a few moments, I played innocent, ¡°suffering¡± under the ¡°brutal¡± gust¡­and then I went for it. I sped forward, discovering that with the boost in Wisdom came a boost in my whole body¡¯s resistance to this magical force. Though I felt like I was running underwater, that was way better than the old feeling of an irresistible wall. With a tiny but determined feral-cat roar, I slashed the owl with all my might, and bared my fangs in rage. The owl hadn¡¯t seen it coming. My claws, slicing fast and frantic, scored their face and front, sending them spiraling off the branch. Their sonic attack was replaced by a single fading yelp, and then¡ª Plop.
EXP: 74% (1114/1500)
¡°Do you¡­want me to kill them?¡± Reed cried, hesitant, down below. No need for that, thanks. I was already feeling accomplished enough. 26. On Their Own Terms One of these days I¡¯d absolutely slaughter someone (or at least injure them enough to gain Experience) and do it where humans could watch as clueless witnesses. But after I fought that screechy owl in the tree, I felt woozy on my feet¡ªwhich was scary because, of course, I was in a tree.
HP 54% (125/230)
SP 11% (21/185)
Judging by those percentages, I was right to feel woozy. A good night¡¯s sleep would fix it, though. So would killing that owl so I could feast on their corpse, since I no longer had any palatable food in my Inventory nor did I have any faith that Reed would present any. So I bounded down to Reed¡¯s side, snapped up some dead, and we hotfooted it back to the campsite. At least, that was what we must have done¡­I apparently lost my short-term memory there. ***
HP 100% (230/230)
SP 100% (185/185)
I woke up just before the sun had risen, when the night sky had only just changed from indigo to blue. I half expected Reed to be up already, legs crossed, whittling at whatever animal statue she was whittling. At the very least, I expected the fire. I saw neither. Instead, I spotted the object lopsided on the ground. Rough-hewn, but I could see the shape of some deer, moose, or donkey taking form. Reed was wide awake and jiggling something out of the big weird suitcase. That thing definitely did have a faucet sticking out of one side. The tarp was gone, replaced by a heap of sky. I figured she must¡¯ve removed that part either magically or impeccably slowly, or else I would¡¯ve been up before now. I stayed motionless inside the quilt, eyeing her as quietly as possible. I didn¡¯t want her to see me move until I was ready to be seen¡ªcall it a habit. Whenever I feared she would turn toward me, I winked my eyes closed again. She turned and they slid open. Reed soon went back to the stone seats, a stick of charcoal and a big sketchpad in her hands. Watching her look up at the scenery, then look down at the paper and work again, sketching in wide arcs at such a leisurely pace¡­it was soothing. Rarely in my two lives had I let myself rest and simply be soothed. Inadvertently, she was giving me another gift. This upset me. It didn¡¯t feel fair. She was giving me stuff and getting nothing in return. This unbalanced state of affairs made me feel¡­competitive. I began to wonder. Reed had begun to teach me what things she liked. If these things had included ¡°eating raw baby birds,¡± I could have slipped out and delivered a bird to her feet on a dime. Somehow that didn¡¯t seem adequate. Humans liked surprise parties and laughter. Could there be a way to surprise Reed like I did last night, like by Evolving and then transforming before her eyes? Not to prank her, but just to show her, like, a nice surprise? Or would that be, in fact, an un-nice surprise? Did the appearance of nakedness transcend categories of ¡°good¡± and ¡°bad,¡± becoming a cruel, illegal prank regardless of intent, much like streaking? And, um, why was I thinking about this particular thing anyway? Why did my thoughts even drift this way, why try to present my naked human-ish body to a human in the first place? As a cat, I didn¡¯t feel embarrassment or shame about these things. But I was becoming aware that when I did assume nekomata form, something in my emotions changed in a way I couldn¡¯t quite place. It was as if whenever I was a cat by Reed¡¯s side, I wanted to coexist with her. But as a humanoid in front of her, every move was nerve-wracking. Like it could have consequences that were at once cosmic and personal. And I didn¡¯t feel it right now as a cat. It was hard to even summon it to memory, as if it had been entirely bound to the high tension, or some weird temporary charge in my brain. All these things and more tumbled into my mind as I eyed Reed. ¡­I was definitely overcomplicating things. Maybe there was something both simpler and funner I could try. Like more Inventory shenanigans? I did have some extra slots now. Or¡ªor maybe something that involved touching. A poke on the back? Or maybe a¡ª I sneezed. Reed froze. I dove into the quilt like a prairie dog running into their burrow, scratching my way through until I¡¯d squeezed into its deepest pocket farthest from the exit, my paws on my head. Smooth. I¡¯d almost had a chance to act natural, or even to spin the sneeze off into an I-meant-to-do-that kind of trick, but I had to go and be¡­ Shy? I was not used to seeing myself that way. ¡°Are you in there?¡± Reed said, outside and close. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. An inordinate amount of frustration raced through my body. Reed wasn¡¯t moving, and she was probably such a salt-of-the-earth type that she wouldn¡¯t move, to be polite. She was nice, she had only ever proven herself to be nice. Surely she didn¡¯t mind the fact that I¡¯d stuck myself in this weird position, either! And yet¡ªI wasn¡¯t thinking logically at that moment. I just felt like I was trapped, and like I needed to escape this weird social situation. I did what any instinct-driven animal would do and got myself out of there as fast as possible, only in a way that was jumbled and¡­inconvenient. I Leaped, but in the wrong direction. With an aura-ful charge of my hind legs, I launched myself straight at the wall of the quilt, half hoping I would at least burst through, but ending up tumbling and taking the whole thing with me. The world around me was slanting¡ªno, I was rolling. Ugh! Ugh!! Uuuuugh!!! After seconds spent trying and failing to jump out, I stopped moving entirely, letting the rolling quilt take me. The bumps and rocks of the ground below-above-beside me jolted me to the bone, but I let it happen. Because if this was how the universe was gonna treat me¡ªif my instincts this morning were going to be my worst enemy¡ªthen the best action to take was no action at all. Reed¡¯s confused cries and footsteps had died away several seconds ago. Now it was just earth and grass taking me down the side of an entire mountain. During the trip, I stared into the quilt wall, watching it collect little rips and tears. I knew I had nothing and no one to blame for this but myself. I¡¯d expected the quilt to drop me off at a steep slope, or maybe against an unforgiving rock wall. Instead, it rolled me out into the early dawn when there was still a stretch of mountain to go. The cozy dirty quilt fluttered off behind me, but I kept on going. A better instinct kicked in. I could right myself, act fast, and hold onto something so I didn¡¯t fall further and scrape off any more HP. If I used the Skill at the right moment, I could even Leap up the slope, or sideways along it, to slow myself down! Maybe Meditate?! Before I could act on any of that, I landed back-first in a puddle so deep that only the tips of my paws stuck out. At least the water wasn¡¯t cold. I stayed under the gross, boggy water until I needed to breathe. Then I slowly rolled myself onto my side, then my feet, and crawled out feeling like a primordial beast. I shook out all the water I could, but the smell of this puddle wasn¡¯t leaving me for hours.
HP 93% (214/230)
SP 84% (155/185)
Well¡­ The way I saw it, I had two options: go back to training and wandering the Vencian Wood, alone, or go back to Reed. Ugh. No, not that second one. I¡¯d run away from her suddenly. And inadvertently stolen her quilt. I could go back for it¡ª Ugh again! My face felt hot, and I physically turned away, as if the thought was a thing I could see in front of me. The quilt was probably gone by now. A predator had to be chewing it up. Besides, the quilt had been wrecked. I¡¯d wrecked it. Imagine a kid giving you back a vase they¡¯d broken, in pieces. ¡­And carrying a quilt around would take up one of my valuable Inventory slots. ¡­Ugh a third time. I knew I had to do it. The idea of seeing Reed again right now filled me with a mix of shame and run-away adrenaline. But the idea of her quilt just gave me guilt. I was only a cat, and she might not expect me to give back stuff I stole, but it was the absolute least I could do, right? I looked guiltily up the slope for a few minutes. Then I crept up, fighting every step of the way with the voice in my head that told me to move on. Reed¡¯s quilt was caught on a tree stump¡ªa sharp, uneven, kinda scary one. Except for a single beetle dancing on its edge, the animals of the wilderness were completely ignoring the quilt. It was damp all over, scuffed, and ripped. I put it in my Inventory. I also slapped the beetle.
EXP: 74% (1117/1500)
That one must have given me a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a percent. Then I bounded down the mountain again. Goodbye, Reed. See you again on my own terms. *** When I reached a clearing at the foot of the mountain, the morning sun had officially risen. Baking the water off my back, reminding my discombobulated self which way was east. It was a comfort. It helped me to focus on myself again. To focus on survival again. No, to focus on being my best self¡ªmy own lone best self, in isolation. Not surviving, but thriving! Not survival, but thrival? To simply focus on what made me feel fulfilled. I found a big flat rock and hissed at the line of ants walking across it. They didn¡¯t listen, so I swatted them clear (which, by the way, did bump my Experience up noticeably¡ªby a single percentage point but a full one). Then I crawled on the rock and stretched. Ah, so good. Lying on that rock was like sunbathing on a grill.
Current Location: ??? (S.A2)
I was just south of Reed¡¯s Mountain. (That was a place name I was beginning to regret.) And I was on just one undiscovered Map square out of¡­how many?
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 13% (4/30)
Twenty-six. And it used to be thirty. That ¡°thirty¡± had seemed like such a big number at first. A tyrannical, imposing, impossible number. And yet I¡¯d already explored four of those squares in the span of how many days again? About a week. Let¡¯s set a new goal, eh, Taipha? A new mini-challenge. I¡¯d go as far south as I could¡ªand try to scout out those other mountains, the ones I¡¯d seen on my way to the So-Called Beacon That Was Technically Really a Chapel, Apparently. The mountains so tall that they almost looked like the blue lady¡¯s blue hat. And I¡¯d get so strong and high-Leveled that maintaining my nekomata form whenever I chose to use it wouldn¡¯t be any trouble. And I might even get that form to talk more easily, so that I¡¯d be able to ask questions, make smarter, more worldly decisions. Then I could explore even more than these woods¡ªI could really explore¡­ My life? It was hard to believe I¡¯d reached that conclusion. Apparently being a silly exploring loner cat was no longer enough for me? When had that happened? And was the change recent, or had it started days ago? Regardless¡­I guessed I really was becoming human. 27. Uneven Playing Field Being just a little bit tougher thanks to my Evolution was great, but there was an upside I hadn¡¯t even thought of before I got it. My Stealth ability let me get around faster. It was a boost on top of the Ash Heather form¡¯s already existing Speed upgrade. Altogether, zipping through the trees along the ambling slopes south of Reed¡¯s Mountain was that much smoother¡ªalmost like skiing over bunny slopes. But that was only true when I went unseen, per Stealth¡¯s requirements. In practice, the ability made getting caught that much more frustrating. Rarely did I have more than ten seconds of total Stealth, and every time another creature glanced my way, I literally felt that edge of Speed trickling from my body. Either I¡¯d rush along, keep going with a curse under my breath, or I would stop right there¡­also with a curse under my breath. Having an innocuous stranger reach over and lower the gear of my bike mid-ride just didn¡¯t feel good. But it did make me that much more aware. And every time my Speed decreased and I couldn¡¯t see what spotted me, I had to thank my Stealth for being more aware than me. It was like having an infuriating but well-meaning guardian angel. ¡­Not Sierra. A slightly cooler, imaginary one. If you¡¯re wondering whether I stopped for any fights, though, the answer is yes of course I did. While I was more interested in covering as much ground as possible for now, that didn¡¯t stop me from getting a head-start on my next Level. I hid from those that spotted me from afar, but I tackled anything that was closer to my path. This meant a bunch of air-slaps, plus three grasshopper-jumps, to catch passing dragonflies. After crossing paths with twenty-two, I reckoned I had an 85 percent catch rate. Decent! Not that the critters were worth much Experience. Meanwhile, I also had a successful rabbit tackle! Once a rabbit was in sight and beeline-able, snagging it in this form was a lot easier. Not yet easy, mind you. It was still a race over and around hills and jags. Now, though, I really did feel like a cheetah matching muscle with an antelope. Seconds after I tackled this prey to the ground, I licked my wounds¡ªlight wounds. The rabbit had kicked me once I¡¯d pinned them down, but the impact was barely a bruise. In fact, my bruises from the rough-and-tumble run just now were worse. Neither held a candle to the bumps I¡¯d racked up from rolling in Reed¡¯s qui¡­ I wasn¡¯t gonna think about that right now. Before digging in, I checked my vitals.
EXP: 89% (1330/1500)
HP 89% (204/230)
SP 84% (155/185)
And after digging in, I pocketed what I couldn¡¯t digest yet. Hm. At first the Inventory size increase had felt like a huge step up, but I was full already! I was currently holding a lotus flower, a clump of muesli, a screech owl corpse, an unmentionable blanketlike item, and the aforementioned rabbit. What was I gonna do?! Well, the decision was so easy I almost didn¡¯t have to think. With a puff of steam, muesli, still damp and warm, compacted into the shape of a snowball, plopped onto the dirt next to me. Ew¡­I had just ejected a clump of off-white splatter-cereal. Pigeon crap. I moved on hastily. All my minor trials and gains aside, though, I knew all this would eventually have to give way to a bigger confrontation. Something less safe. That was just what I got when I hit an unusual part of the woods. Here between bright, sea-green trees was a huge, crackly chunk of stone. No¡­a road? An incredibly overgrown road, much too big and sunken-in to be just some old rock. Not something I was used to seeing. Grass and moss curled around it and seeped through its cracks. Curiosity won over Stealth. I walked up to the road and tapped my front paws against its edge. At least, I thought it was the edge. All the road¡¯s sides disappeared into greenery and stubby white mushrooms. I heard the tiny taps of claws against tree bark. My whole body jerked to attention¡ªbut I decided not to run for cover. I slowly shifted myself into a tense, observing stance. Turning my head toward the sound, I saw a couple of ever-so-delightful squirrels headed for the patch of road. Old rivals. The moment they turned to me, I sized them up. Two average brownish-gray critters, probably on their way to lunch. Maybe they were a couple. Maybe they were the exact same ones who¡¯d chased me off that cliff so many nights ago, or maybe one of them had thrown an enchanted time-sucking stone at me. In any case, they would regret coming here. Today was a new day! And not just because I would win. I was also about to train my Defense for once! I had a feeling I would need it. Guard! A very weird current washed over me. This wasn¡¯t quite what Meditate had led me to expect. It seemed to be simultaneously multiplying and contracting my muscles while reinforcing my very bones, which was exactly as uncomfortable as you¡¯re thinking. If Meditate filled me with inner peace and clarity, then Guard was filling me with¡­calcium? A near-transparent steam of aura left my body, making me wish I¡¯d been filled with the kind of burning fire that makes one want to pound faces in, instead of squirmy worms. I guessed that was what the Attack-boosting Skill would be for. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. I shook all my discomfort off. All good!
DEF 39 (+50%)
I launched forward, spring-stepping with my claws out. Part of me wanted to indulge in a Leap and a Swipe, but that trifecta would¡¯ve been costly, and even if I was probably matching Levels with these squirrels now (if not surpassing them), I still considered them unpredictable. The squirrels squeaked and jumped out of the way¡ªbut I caught one by the tail, then coiled around them, making my body a cage of relentless fury. I hissed and battered the squirrel with front and back claws both, eventually landing on my back and tossing the critter in midair. And then, mid-midair-ness, I realized the squirrel didn¡¯t seem to be taking any damage at all. They¡¯d shrunken into a ball and started glowing, like a magical fireball¡ªand there was even a hint of yellow-orange in the glow. Huh? That was weird.
Error: Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata is unavailable. Please leave a message. (Or don¡¯t. You never bother anyway.)
N-neurrrgh! Slapping the useless box away, pooling together all of my knowledge about what colorful magic might mean, I came to the conclusion that the squirrel was probably using some sort of fire, electric, or light spell. I mean, that would only make sense, right? And it seemed to match up with what the starving wolf had done. On the other hand, a certain raccoon a few days back had used a reddish-glowing Skill too. Or was that orange? Either way, that¡¯d been a different shade. Um, okay, I didn¡¯t have time to delve deep into this train of thought either. However useful it might be later. Suffice it to say that apparently my elemental color theory made too much sense to be true, since I¡¯d been clawing the rodent for the past several seconds without taking any fire- or light-related damage on my end, or any damage at all. Well, it wouldn¡¯t matter as long as I dealt enough damage to¡­ Wait. I let the squirrel simply fall into the grip of my front paws again, then squinted. ¡­No¡­I didn¡¯t see any scratches through the glow. Had they taken any damage? WAIT¡ª I dropped them and rolled to the side. Not because I had some flash of inspiration, but because I remembered that there was another squirrel mere moments away from my face, one that had clearly been waiting patiently to strike. Whipping my head around just as the second squirrel charged into view, I sidestepped again, forcing them to skid to a halt. Their tail was glowing with white magic¡ªweird, floppy choice for a body part to fight with, but okay. Actually, it wasn¡¯t so floppy anymore The way they held it up and away from their body reminded me of a rigid beaver¡¯s tail. A ticking clock in the back of my mind¡ªthe Swipe Timer, I¡¯ll call it¡ªtold me that fifteen seconds had passed. The Guard Skill¡¯s aftereffects, though, seemed to be sticking around. I recalled that my Meditate had lasted longer than expected, too¡­about twice as long as a Swipe. So Guard, as its sister Skill, should likewise last¡­thirty seconds! I could do math after all. In a move that was equally deft and janky, the tail-whipping squirrel flipped their whole body forward and struck my side. That tail was hard, even sharp, and it hit deep. Why was the pain so deep? Why sharp?!
HP 73% (168/230)
SP 76% (140/185)
Revenge: I lunged for the base of the tail right as it left my body. I didn¡¯t catch it, but I followed through with the lunge and landed in an acceptably cool fashion, acceptably close by. At least the landing had upped my confidence. Now I felt ready for a tense standoff with¡ªaugh, I forgot already, there was more than one squirrel here. And the second of them, the one who¡¯d curled into a kind of fireball, was running for me with a new kind of fury, and still covered in aura. I turned quick enough to see that the flaring magic had deepened to an orangey red, and had even entered their eyes. They came for me way faster than they should¡¯ve. Had their Skill absorbed my blows and turned them into¡ª WHAM! They latched onto my face and dug their incisors into my cheek. I went flying, then crashing onto the grass.
HP 32% (74/230)
SP 76% (140/185)
Good thing my body was still calcified from my Guard. I had a feeling that the attack I¡¯d just taken was stronger than anything I¡¯d faced before. ¡­In a weird way, I took that as a compliment, assuming the squirrel really had absorbed my own power to reflect it back at me. Then the squirrel gnawed again, hard.
HP 13% (31/230)
Guard! GUARD! TWO GUARDS! Ugh! I should¡¯ve thought about doing that earlier, and I would have if I hadn¡¯t been cringing in face-pain. Right as my first Guard wore off, I summoned up two more, simultaneously. And it worked, but with a metric ton of discomfort. My muscles shook so hard I spasmed, and my bones seemed ready to break through my skin. Now the sensation of bodily reinforcement was out-and-out agony. Of course, if agony was the only way to survive this battle, I would take it.
DEF 65 (+150%)
I recovered my reflexes in time to roll out of the way, just as the squirrel¡¯s claws tore at my neck.
HP 7% (15/230)
SP 59% (110/185)
Ow. My numerical damage wasn¡¯t bad, but a wound on the neck was a wound on the neck. I got on my feet and, with a glance, took in the battlefield. There was one flaming berserk squirrel in front of me. Another with a weird sword-tail at one o¡¯clock. Both in better shape than me. Maybe neither one could Guard and endure as long as I could. But maybe they could Guard and were saving it. And maybe they had Guarded already. Underneath them was a weird stone path that I would just have to come back to later. A stone path with letters on it. It had taken me this long to realize that the shapes on its surface weren¡¯t all mere cracks. They were letters wobbling in my vision, fading into each other, refusing to keep still. Were they moving due to magic, or just because of my human-cat brain? No time to think about that. I escaped. 28. A Theory of Fun and Fulfillment for Kittens Boughs waved in the wind high above a stone path. A cluster of deep-red berries tumbled from a branch, hit the stone, and splattered across it, thanks to my clumsy paw. I¡¯d climbed to the top of a tree just above the stone, and now that the tree was curving at a dangerous-feeling angle, I held on for my life. Literally: my HP was below 10 percent, and while the two squirrels who¡¯d just fought me on those stones had lost interest and scampered away, what if it was a feint? What if they came back? I could¡¯ve just run off, but instead¡­I really wanted to read that path. Seeing it from up high, though, revealed that it wasn¡¯t a path after all! It was just a super-big stone. The letters across its cracking surface, choked with grass and dirt, spelled out a message that felt like a challenge. The harder I looked, the less they would stand still. But I kept staring anyway, daring the letters to freeze. After a while, some of them did. ¡­ ¡­A¡­ C¡­¡­A¡­ ¡­ ¡­A¡­ ¡­ ¡­ ¡­A¡­ ¡­ ¡­ ¡­T¡­ ¡­A¡­A¡­ ¡­A¡­ . ¡­TA¡­ TA¡­ . Uh¡­some of the arcane human knowledge lodged within me said that the letters I was seeing represented building blocks of the word ¡°cat.¡± But why? Why even?! And it didn¡¯t even make any complete words! Was I supposed to guess the rest of them? Was Sierra¡ªsacred holy goddess of nekomata¡ªtoying with me? Was she the host of the worst session of Wheel of Fortune in the galaxy? ¡­Well, maybe I could take a stab at the last two words. I stared hard at them for about ten more seconds, and that helped me gauge how many letters were left to be guessed. _ T A _ _ T A _ _ . Nnnrgh¡­my stubborn streak wouldn¡¯t let me leave this alone. What words even had TA in them? Okay, let¡¯s cycle through them. Bta¡­cta¡­dta¡­ ¡ªI shook my head to shoo the thoughts away. I had a whole day of exploring ahead of me. I could use my time better by roaming. Or by healing a little bit, since I¡¯d gotten that Catnap skill just before I Evolved. I yawned, backtracked down the tree to a more stable branch, quickly scanned the area for big immediate threats, then took a much-needed nap.
Quest: Decipher the Path-Sized Stone
Progress: 0% (0/15 Words)
***
EXP: 89% (1330/1500)
HP 57% (131/230)
SP 43% (80/185)
I woke up with 50 percent more HP than I¡¯d gone to sleep with. And feeling far from perfect, but I¡¯d had decent days at lower health in my former life. I slinked down my tree. There at the roots, scurrying cluelessly past me, was a boll weevil. With one paw and a puff of dust, I smashed it.
EXP: 89% (1330/1500)
Then I squinted, sniffed it, thought of my empty stomach, and¡­ate it. Eeeugh. At least it didn¡¯t seem poisonous. I emerged from this patch of trees, pointed myself due south, and just ran. Low hills stretched before me, speckled with bushes and berries and birds, undulating like the waves of a river. The afternoon sun, shining above thin corkscrewy clouds, was crisp across my back as I ran. I felt as one with the rhythm of every movement, in a way I never had with the bustle of the city or even with the calm of the Earthbound woods. Maybe that was because I was starting to feel like a part of this ecosystem. And that was weird, wasn¡¯t it? I was some hybrid being out of touch with both sides, away from my birthplace, and recently having rolled, in utter shame and disappointment, away from the one person I could call a companion. But I was also having genuine fun. And I liked running. It was just that simple. At least in this moment it was simple. A new window winked past my vision:
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 17% (5/30)
And the next Map square glittered before me. The hills were leveling out into a vast plain dotted with clumps of trees¡ªand with ponds. At first I thought those small ponds were big chunks of slate, but the closer I came, the more I saw, in their reflections, white cloud trails and bluish-lavender sky. No wonder herds of goats were clustered around them. I thought I could see rabbits, too, poking their heads out of burrows, bounding free. A handful of birds arced through the sky, their wings like blades chopping the sun.
Treasure Detected!
Check your Map for the location.
I¡¯d finally gotten to the point where I didn¡¯t need to stop, or even pause, to check out my Map. I could do it on the fly, like an experienced driver with a GPS that also inexplicably blotted out nine-tenths of their vision. Gimme the Map. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Current Location: ??? (S.A3)
According to my data, the Treasure was almost right in front of me? Great! Better than great! According to my eyes, it was¡ªin a pond. With big startled eyes, I stopped a few nudges short of the pond¡¯s edge and hoped the goats at the other end wouldn¡¯t realize how taken-by-surprise I was. A few of them had nasty horns. Mostly, though. they just looked dull and slack-jawed. I looked at them. They looked at me. One of them mewled. Together they went on drinking. Phew. Back to the water, then¡ªcertainly one of my worst enemies. I sneezed, an aftereffect of yesterday¡¯s rain and a harbinger of troubles to come. Tentatively, with the tip of my paw, I swished the water. No, I didn¡¯t even swish it. I just poked it. The surface rippled, blue and smooth. I craned my neck. The watering hole was just clear enough for me to see them: long, gorgeous red-and-white fish among the pond grass, swimming in tangles. Koi? I looked like a goat¡ªmy mouth was hanging open. Treasure could wait. I remembered the horrific boll weevil ¡°meal¡± I¡¯d just had, the undulating hill-like waves of my tortured stomach. I flexed my claws. I snapped at the water with my jaws open wide¡ªand on the first try, I caught one! Ouch, ow! The koi thrashed wildly, slapping me with their back fin and their head uncountable times per second!
HP 41% (95/230)
Guard! My entire body got that odd wiggly feeling, fortifying itself. The fish slapped me a few more good times, but nothing I couldn¡¯t take.
HP 35% (80/230)
Considering how powerful this koi was and how close I was to Leveling Up, I felt secure in doing what I was about to do. Swipe! I forked the fish with five charged-up claws. That put a stop to it. Then I hunkered down to eat my catch, wondering if the goats were jealous of my unique feline digestive tract.
Level Up!
Righteous!
Lv. 10 ¡ú Lv. 11
EXP: 15% (241/1650)
HP 100% (258/258)
SP 100% (203/203)
ATK 41
INT 26
DEF 30 (+1!)
WIS 19
SPD 37 (+1!)
Yay, more Stats! But also: aw, more vague concerns bubbling up to the surface! I¡¯d noticed that on every Level-Up, I got precisely two bonus Stats from my training, and they were never both in the same Stat. Had that meant that when I got a lump sum of Experience from a Quest¡ªlike the one I finished over at that chapel¡ªI got zero bonus upgrades? How much would this matter? Well, possibly not at all. It all depended on whether I had a maximum Level, or whether I¡¯d ever even reach that Level. Levels sure were mysterious, huh? ¡­Help Desk Levels.
Levels are a System¡¯s primary means of augmenting the power of its Users. The higher one¡¯s Level, the higher their¡ª
Oops okay I already knew that, let¡¯s skip down to the relevant stuff.
The Level Cap for each individual is determined by sysadmin. The sysadmin of this System is Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata. (She is currently unavailable, though she appreciates cards and flowers.)
I appreciate cards and flowers too, Sierra. Too bad I never get any.
New Skill!
Slash: Attack with supercharged claws. Short activation period, but high chance for critical.
I¡­whuh? This sounded decent, especially since it seemed to let me attack with two paws instead of one, but¡­ ¡°high chance for critical¡±? I didn¡¯t know what that meant¡­ I flexed my jaws. Poor jaws. Poor teeth. They didn¡¯t have any cool moves, but a stronger bite would be so useful for catching fish. I cleaned the bones of my lunch and brushed them aside. The koi had been a good meal, but not quite filling. I¡¯d need another, and maybe another on top of that. And I might as well get one more for the road. With one front paw in the air, I scooched as close as I could to the watering hole¡¯s edge and¡­ Slashed. 29. Human Worlds I didn¡¯t have quite enough archival video game term knowledge to know what ¡°high chance for critical¡± meant. Nor did I know the term for sitting in one place and defeating the same enemies over and over again, but that¡¯s exactly what I did. And proudly.
EXP: 53% (878/1650)
HP 93% (240/258)
SP 67% (137/203)
The koi in this watering hole weren¡¯t so tough once I got a couple of strategies down. The Guard skill I¡¯d activated just before my latest Level-Up was still active, and my new power to Slash meant quicker kills with no loss of HP, albeit at a high SP price. Slash was exactly as cool as it sounded¡ªa seven out of ten on the scale of coolness. Charged-up claws with traces of firefly orange in their aura-steam. Somewhat less cool than setting things on fire, but a tiny sliver more cool than pseudomagnetically pulling things toward you. It charged my paws for such a brief window of time, but they definitely got stronger than an ordinary Swipe would¡¯ve made a single one. Plus, when I swatted my third koi with my second Slash, it actually defeated the fish on impact. No detailed slicing necessary.
EXP: 81% (1333/1650)
HP 81% (1333/1650)
SP 35% (71/203)
Causing the fish¡¯s body to fall deeper into the water, too deep for me to pull it up and save it for dinner¡­ Ah, whatever. Did I have too many things in my Inventory to hold it? (And¡­didn¡¯t I have some owl remains to get back to? How¡­how long would it take for these things to start rotting? Did they rot in real time?)
Inventory: 4/5
Pink Lotus Flower Screech Owl Corpse Nourishing, but won¡¯t heal HP or SP. Reed¡¯s Quilt A worn-out, dirty, damp, very soft family heirloom. When pushed to max capacity, can fit twenty cat Taiphas and two nekomata Taiphas. Rabbit Corpse
Good. I could fill the last space with the other koi sitting beside me. ¡ªHold on! The quilt I¡¯d basically rolled down an entire grimy mountainside was a family heirloom?! Weh¡­ Maybe it was best to just never see Reed again, at that point. Buck up, Taipha. Just focus on the road ahead and¡ªoh yeah, the Treasure at the bottom of this pond. The koi were starting to get wise to my tactics anyway. They were swimming away from my spot, too deep and far for my ordinary swatting paws to catch. I stared as deep into the water as I could, past the bits of leafy debris and the thin layer of film. Then I¡ªoh gosh here it comes¡ªI swallowed in a deep breath and stuck my face in. Instant stinging in my eyes and nose. But everything was much clearer. I could see the floor of the watering hole¡ªit wasn¡¯t too far, actually. And it wasn¡¯t rocky like a normal riverbed. It was all grass that wafted in the water. Aha! This wasn¡¯t a pond, it was just a divot in the hills that¡¯d gotten filled in by rainwater! ¡­No, that couldn¡¯t be true. Could it? Not unless the koi were in the raincloud too. Or maybe they flew in. Or they had expertly timed eggs? Distracted, I pulled my head out to survey the whole landscape again. It was all easy hills and valleys. Farther south were low mountains made mostly of stone and dirt, with the bigger, most southerly ones obscured by low clouds. But in the immediate area were those polka-dot ponds and these thirsty goats. A story built itself in my head. I wondered if there had once been a mighty stream weaving through these hills, carrying koi a long, long way. Had a big rain from a decade ago pocketed its koi in pools, before the main river dried in a drought? I paused and thought about it. Then I stopped myself and went, Well, now or never. I jumped i¡ª I stopped myself again. I Morphed into my humanoid form, the one whose arms were so long she likely wouldn¡¯t need to dive in just to grab some Treasure. The puff of smoke caused several goats to shriek and scurry off. I found myself in a now-uncomfortable crouch, with my knees in the air and my feet right next to my hands. My tail hovered at attention. Alright, let¡¯s try this again! With another deep breath, I flung my head, then one arm into the water. My fingers felt the grassy surface, squeezed. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Wow! I¡¯d never paid attention to my human hands before. They were just as sensitive as my paw pads, but comparatively huge, and¡­coherent, for lack of a better word. Paw pad parts don¡¯t connect¡ªthey¡¯re just bunches of beans. Using my hand was like palpating around with a tongue made out of five different tongues. Human hands are an embarrassment of riches. I quickly latched onto a chunk of what looked like marble stuck in the pond floor. Reaching my palm around it, gripping awkwardly with my clunky awkward thumb, I gave it a pull. Ow! My upper arm told me that was not the right angle to pull from. I winced and got out of the water. Holding my drippy hand before my drippy face, I recalibrated. My mind did heretofore-arcane mathematics. If my arm had joints like this¡­and if my body was this heavy and in such-and-such a position¡­then ideally I should have been pulling by¡­ By anchoring my feet in the grass, with at least one foot underwater. Well, no way I was putting both feet in if I had an alternative. I stamped myself down, suffered the splash, and thrust my head and arm in afresh. This time I retrieved the Treasure¡ªand with only 50 percent of my body dripping wet! Sitting on the grass with a sigh, I cradled the object and examined it. It was a tiny statue, its form somewhat like the thing I had seen Reed carving. The material, though, seemed to be marble. It had been tinted greenish-blue by water and weathering, and all its edges felt overly smooth, faded. It looked like a woman in a long robe or toga. One arm held a thin sword aloft¡­or maybe something else, like a staff or spear. I couldn¡¯t tell¡ªthe end of it had been broken off long ago. I ejected the screech owl corpse (that meat was tough anyway) and Inventorized it.
Lady Canny Statuette
An antique marble figurine depicting Lady Canny, spiritual consort of the Shadow Kings who presided over the Age of Reversal. Could have been valuable if not for the erosion.
Oh. I was halfway disappointed. The info in the statuette¡¯s description was just close enough to understandable that this felt like an important puzzle piece for the Vencian Wood¡¯s secrets, but also, this Treasure was functionally useless. Maybe the most useless Treasure I¡¯d found so far. Unless those time-reversing rocks from a few days ago had been classified as ¡°Treasure¡±¡ªa dang lie. I¡¯d done what I came to this watering hole to do, so I decided to move on. More exploring and training ahead. Also¡­
SP 19% (39/203)
¡­no need to waste all my SP on maintaining a form I didn¡¯t feel totally comfortable in. I poofed back into my cat form and shook off all the water I could. Then I heard a weird honking noise from behind me. A car horn? Here, of all places? A whole chorus of honks¡ªguttural¡ªa flock of geese?! Ugh! Crap! They were headed right this way, descending in a big V, a mere second away from touching ground. Goats hollered and fled, nearly stampeding me. I ran off along the water¡¯s edge, so hastily that I got all my legs wet. The lead goose landed, honked again, and chased after me. I¡¯m going, I¡¯m going! Luckily they gave up after a few moments. A few of the goats weren¡¯t so lucky¡ªas I scampered away from the watering hole, looking over my shoulder, I saw gangs of geese getting into vicious, pecking arguments with the cowering mammals. Ihh. I shivered. You couldn¡¯t have paid me to fight one goose. Not at this Level, anyway. I was glad to escape. *** When evening fell, I was approaching dense trees again. Locusts and night birds cooed all around me. Clinging ivy spiraled around the oaks.
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 20% (6/30)
Current Location: Drippy Flats (S.A3)
EXP: 97% (1606/1650)
HP 91% (235/258)
SP 19% (39/203)
Picking off goats on my way here had been more difficult than I¡¯d thought. Not because the goats themselves put up a great fight, but because once one goat was down, the rest knew better than to stay. Therefore, I¡¯d hopped across three goats¡­and only then did I realize that their EXP yield was nothing to write home about. So I set my sights on hunting koi again¡­until I realized the tactical advantage of where I was at now. I was right on the precipice of my next Level, meaning I could consciously tip that scale to get a recharge of all my HP and, most importantly, SP. Admittedly, that advantage didn¡¯t look as special when my typical SP-recharging bedtime was coming up in a matter of hours. But anything could happen, and life could change in an instant. My pace was slowing down. I shuffled through tall grass, knowing that nocturnal predators would be on high alert soon, but not just yet. Then I got a strange feeling. Not that I was being watched¡ªI had a very literal Speed-boosting power for that, and it was constantly being tripped by so many moths glancing my way and passing out of reach¡ªbut that there was something in my vicinity that I would do well not to miss. Something that, unlike the statuette, I wouldn¡¯t regret. I wished I could¡¯ve tweaked my Map somehow. Just to make a landmark for, you know, suspiciousness. Or coolness. Or just anything that might be worth coming back to later. And I wished I didn¡¯t have to trust in my System to fill that stuff in. Whatever¡­hopefully it wouldn¡¯t matter in the here and now. I could find it today or the next day or in my lifetime. A rhythmic pulsing made me twitch. My eyes widened and my heart rate quickened as a strange-yet-familiar, soul-deep sound suffused my whole being. I froze in the grass. Only after several seconds did I realize that the beat wasn¡¯t just in my heart and mind. I was hearing a sound I should¡¯ve been familiar with: human drumming. 30. Lots and Lots of Sheep Drumming meant soldiers and war bands; drumming meant dances and festivals; drumming meant the rock bands and buskers I¡¯d passed by so often along the sidewalked Earth. Drumming was human, and beyond that it could¡¯ve meant darn near anything, good or bad. Yet I couldn¡¯t help but like the sound of it. This was a gentle drumming, and it spoke to some elementary sense of peace within me¡­as if the instrument was asking every creature around it to calm down. It gave a new meaning to the low coos, the purring of the forest, around me. Maybe it was magic. Admittedly, it might¡¯ve been manipulation, like hypnosis. That theory wasn¡¯t even on my mind as I crept closer to the source of the beat. As I approached, new sounds entered, and smells. I sensed an overwhelming presence of sheep. They bleated and shuffled past each other, wool rubbing. Fibers from their wool even drifted through the air¡ªlong before any came into view. I came to a clearing and a close-packed scatter of watering holes. Standing at a shrub-lined ridge, I could see them all. Sheep ambled about and drank sleepily from the banks under a darkening sky. Their very wool seemed to reaffirm and reverberate with the drumbeat, the way veins in a body carry heart¡¯s blood. And their numbers, while piddly compared to a big fenced farm on Earth, were nonetheless dizzying. A hundred. As the sky darkened by another notch or two, I discovered something else about the drum-pulse: it glowed. Faint yellow currents thrummed from the wooly sheep on every beat. The scene was beautiful, in a weird dreamlike way¡ªso much so that I wondered if I¡¯d believe it was a dream as soon as the night was over. Then I thought about the incredible EXP, together with the mouth-watering mountain of meat, that this flock could give me if I went for it. I mean, they were just¡­waiting! All of them together! And no guard dog or any¡ª Oh, wait a minute. I got it now. No doubt they had a drumming human guarding them. But I couldn¡¯t help but try and find that human. Fine-tuning my ear position, happily sensing that Stealth was active, I crept along the clearing¡¯s raised shrubby edge. The human came into view¡ªjust in time. Seen in profile. Reclining against a gnarled and bent dogwood, dressed in a heap of frilled white and yellow, the shepherd could¡¯ve been a doll in a display. Shepherdess? I dunno. Maybe humans could tell from a distance, I thought, but I was just a cat, and not even one who knew about Vencian culture. The shepherd¡¯s near-white hair curled in wide ringlets underneath a bonnet, and their eyes, I noticed, were sheer white with the slightest hint of lavender. On their lap was the telltale drum, and in their hands were drumsticks. As I caught sight of them, their drumming began to trail off, the pounding becoming both gentler and faster. It quickened and quieted until the sound was softly dead. Then they laid the drum and sticks beside them, reached around to the other side that I couldn¡¯t currently see, and pulled out¡­what was that? I shifted my position for a better look, slowly and delicately so as not to get the attention of even a single sheep. The flock seemed to be winding down for sleep, but a few were still bleating and looking around¡ªbest not to risk anything. Ah, okay. First the shepherd had pulled out some glasses, the fancy shiny kind that pinch your nose just to stay on. Why did humans do this to themselves? Just get glasses that don¡¯t pinch your nose. Anyway, behind the glass, their irises changed color, filling with lemon yellow. Then they took out some kind of round clothy thing¡ªa pillow?¡ªand a needle and thread. All this came from a basket on their other side, I could see now. Then, calmly and methodically, the shepherd simply began to sew. The world felt motionless and empty. The whine of locusts spread above me like a far, untouchable canopy. I studied the shepherd as they worked, and only minutes later did I become aware that I was studying them¡ªin fascination. The restive, meditative scene almost made me want to¡ª No! Don¡¯t go to sleep here! You have no idea what that person is here for or capable of! I shook myself awake. Think of something else, I said to myself. Think while you find a better place to rest. Naturally my thoughts drifted to the most anxiety-provoking thing possible. Man, that quilt was a family heirloom. Reed¡¯s poor quilt. Had somebody sewn it by hand? Was every single solitary square imbued with the kind of soft, slow memory and care that this shepherd was clearly lavishing on their own pillow? What kind of a crime had I committed?! If I¡¯d been in nekomata form, I might¡¯ve broken out in hives. I couldn¡¯t go back to Reed after all. Even if she was my friend, she was going to have such a hard time forgiving me tha¡­ So that was the word for what she meant to me? ¡°Friend¡±? What had I even been calling her until now? Might as well peel off that bandage. Whatever vaguer words I¡¯d used before, I knew now, were just ways for me to keep my comfortable distance¡ªa distance befitting an independent outdoor cat. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Like it or not, she and her cabin did have a place in my life¡­ Okay, yes. There was no ¡°or not¡± about it. I did like it. I liked that I knew her and I especially liked that everything indicated she liked me back. I was staring at the shepherd¡¯s handiwork again. The pillow was tilted so that I couldn¡¯t get a clear, steady look, but I was curious and restless, so I began to creep forward. Maybe I could curve all the way around this ridge, get behind the shepherd. Creep, creep, creeeeep¡­ Shff. ¡°Me-e-e-eh!¡± No! Look away, sheep, it¡¯s just a gray rock! A sheep at the edge of the flock looked directly at me¡ªtheir eyes only two meters away, and boring into mine. Then more sheep turned their heads. And the shepherd turned their head. I stood stone-still, but my pupils dared to look at the shepherd. They were standing at attention, the drum hanging from their neck. The shepherd played a drum tattoo, sending calming waves through the flock. Now that I was this close, though, I thought I was sensing currents of strength passing through the wool and flesh in front of me. Made sense¡­maybe this human had the power to bestow Guards and other buffs on their charge. Soon the human and flock went back to sewing and ever-dwindling bleating, respectively. I decided not to creep much further. If that pillow wasn¡¯t destined for my eyes, I wasn¡¯t gonna force it. ¡­But Reed did deserve to get that quilt. Not only that, but I deserved to give it. I mean, I was pretty cool. I hadn¡¯t rolled down a mountain on purpose. Plus, I was a responsible citizen, as far as that went for a cat that owed allegiance only to an intangible series of boxes and, vaguely, to a goddess with an answering machine. I did what was asked of me. I begrudgingly entered the homes of humans, then followed them like some dippy dog. And I¡­ I didn¡¯t care about anything but myself. And that hurt. For the first time, that thought hurt. If I had cared, I would¡¯ve cleaned Reed¡¯s quilt by now. That thing had been ruined by the journey down ¡°her¡± mountain. I knew beyond a doubt that it was important to her, yet when I¡¯d seen the myriad watering holes of the Drippy Flats, I hadn¡¯t even considered doing her a good turn¡ªor at least a decent one, an attempt¡ªby dunking that quilt in the cleanest basins I¡¯d seen, across two worlds, to date. A human friend would¡¯ve lavished love on that quilt. Would¡¯ve been thinking. Would not have been afraid to care or put in a bare minimum of effort. It was then that I thought about sewing again. The dark of the night was deep, but those nose-pinching glasses the shepherd had on were starting to glow, lighting up their work. Glimmers played off the swinging needle. Clearly they had needles to spare, and thread, in that basket. I could steal some. ¡ªBorrow. Borrow some. I didn¡¯t wanna get on the bad side of every human I met, particularly not the ones with magic drums. Sure, the borrowing would look like stealing for a bit, but I was honest. I¡¯d give them back at¡­some point¡­ Wait, why was I acting like stealing was my only option?! Cats didn¡¯t have to steal everything, they could beg! And I didn¡¯t even have to do this as a cat! I had another form for a reason! So once I¡¯d backed into the brush a few more steps, I¡ª Poof! I was really doing this, huh? ¡­I un-Inventory¡¯d Reed¡¯s quilt and wrapped it around myself. Now I was a nekomata, and as presentable as I could ever hope to be.
SP 18% (36/203)
With my SP timer ticking down, I hurried off to the sewing shepherd. Trotting through the foliage definitely got the attention of a few sheep, but I didn¡¯t pay it any mind this time. I just headed straight for my goal, and soon I had made it. The shepherd stirred¡ªbut didn¡¯t rise like I¡¯d expected. They were staring up at me, but with curiosity, not fear or anger. In a world of tricky spirits, was human form alone a sign of trustworthiness? With a shiver, I drew the quilt closer around my shoulders, clamping it closed with one hand. My other hand stuck out and began to gesture. Hmm. I might¡¯ve grabbed a statue earlier, but these finer motor movements, with the fingers and stuff, were proving difficult. I wanted to pantomime using a needle and thread, but my pointer finger and thumb didn¡¯t wanna get close to each other¡ªthey clamped together one moment and slipped far away the next. Meanwhile, my unpracticed human face made its best attempt at a sorry, sulky, please-pity-me look. My soul cringed just imagining how off-putting it must¡¯ve looked. But¡­I was trying my best here. The shepherd seemed to pick up on that. Clear sympathy dawned on them. Reaching forward, they tugged on the hem of my quilt. Uh, I couldn¡¯t tell if we were getting somewhere or not. I didn¡¯t want to give the quilt away, just repair it. So I pointed at the basket of supplies. The shepherd paused to think. Then they pulled out a second, much larger basket¡ªfrom nowhere, of course¡ªand started rifling through it. A whole host of fabrics was lumped and bunched inside, and more than a few silk handkerchiefs went fluttering in the night breeze as the shepherd searched. Finally, they pulled out clothing. Way too much clothing! N-no! I didn¡¯t wanna replace the quilt either! But the shepherd cleared things up with another gesture. They pointed at Reed¡¯s quilt with one hand, at the clothes with the other¡ªthen swished them around in a circle together. A swap. I frowned and clutched the quilt closer. The shepherd held up their hands in surrender, apparently anxious to show me that I could have it my way. Wait, maybe they were saying that¡­that they would repair the quilt? It looked like it. Their hands were churning in another gesture, their own hands faux-stitching along the quilt¡¯s hem. Yes. They intended to do my work for me. Why? Was it just¡­a good deed? My gaze drifted to the clothes again. There was so much variety in them that I almost couldn¡¯t choose. Plus, naturally, I¡¯d rarely ever been asked to choose. It all made my head spin. I knew my SP was dying away, too. I couldn¡¯t stay a nekomata much longer. What was the point of taking, or borrowing, this kind-seeming stranger¡¯s clothes? For politeness¡¯ sake, I gathered up a dress, stepped into it, and shrugged off the quilt. I did it for the shepherd¡¯s human modesty, and I did it fast so that I could still have some time to un-Morph in private without them bugging their eyes out and murmuring, ¡°What are you?¡± And I definitely raced off a bit too hastily, but what was I supposed to do? I couldn¡¯t reliably say a coherent ¡°thank you¡± in the five seconds my remaining SP would¡¯ve allowed.
SP 0% (0/203)
I practically crashed into the bushes again, and with a ¡°meow¡± of stress and fatigue that I stifled as much as nekomata-ly possible, I hit the dirt. Now I was too ashamed to be able to sleep. Yet I was locked into this mess, so I couldn¡¯t up and leave. I had no choice but to stay up and watch that shepherd sew Reed¡¯s quilt, no matter how long it might take. No choice but to watch the swinging, singing needle go at its rhythmic work, swooping in, easing out, working with care and diligence, at the edge of a sea of sheep, soft, round, fluffy, fibers, drifting¡­ I went to sleep. 31. Mementos: 5/5 I woke up in a panic and a heap of dress. The flock of sheep and their drifting wool particles had long since disappeared, but my fears had not. Flailing to life, I swished myself out from the head of a silky, cream-colored dress and saw the light of day. A hard burst of wind slapped the branches, and shimmering sun, too bright, hit my eyes. Wiping them clear, I came back to my senses. Or tried to. Forget drifting asleep without meaning to. Why had I ever decided to leave a friend¡¯s dear dirty heirloom quilt with a stranger?! D¡¯ugh! And that stranger was probably mad at me for scuffing up their dress¡­which I didn¡¯t even have Inventory room for! But when I looked out in front of me, I calmed down. There was the quilt, immaculately folded. Its many holes had been sewn up, and while the tears were still noticeable under tan and white stitches, clearly this was the best that shepherd could have done. It had been mended with care and even love. On top of the quilt were two little baggies, tied up with string, and a folded note. Well, in case that shepherd had telepathy, I mentally offered two question-marked thank-yous and a ¡°sorry I can¡¯t read.¡± I stepped out of the dress and pawed the note open anyway. To my swimming eyes, it read: ¡­a¡­a¡­a¡­a¡­ac¡­a¡­ta¡­t¡­a¡­, t¡­ta¡­, t¡­at¡­t¡­t¡­ac¡­ ¡­a¡­t¡­a¡­a¡­a¡­a. - ¡­..c¡­ ¡­ Gee whiz. Yeah. This stunk on ice. But if I held onto the note, no doubt I could read it one of these days. Then I turned to the baggies. Deciding to go all-in with my trust, I chewed the strings apart and revealed: A bag full of gold pieces?! After I stared at them intensely, wondering what-all was engraved on them and whether they were any use, I¡­accidentally Inventorized them. As in, I involuntarily stashed them into whatever vault was holding my winnings from the Quest at the Beacon-chapel-place. Gold?
Error: Invalid request.
Sigh¡­ It was probably sitting in Sierra¡¯s heavenly vault, collecting heavenly interest. Perhaps someday I could ask my heavenly mom for my heavenly allowance. At least I wouldn¡¯t have to worry about it taking up a storage slot. The baggie full of cookies, though¡­ They looked and smelled like a spicy kind of pecan shortbread. Temporarily booting out the Lady Canny statuette, I dunked one cookie in my Inventory.
Food: Pecan Zinger
With a base of hollownut flour and flavorings of pecan, rosemary, lysom zest, and pepperdot, this cookie is sure to be a hit with humans everywhere, even those with common dietary sensitivities. Cats will hate it.
Eh, they could come in handy, particularly if I was starving out of my mind. I just wasn¡¯t ready to expend the SP necessary to eat them. I doubted whether I ever would be. The delight humans got from these floury rocks of sweetness had yet to make sense to me. M-maybe they could be repurposed as a gift to Reed, too, along with the mended quilt. It¡¯d be a regift, but she didn¡¯t have to know that! With no animals of a higher threat level than crawling, neon-green caterpillars out and about, I dealt with my Inventory. It was a long, tedious brainteaser of shuffling pieces around, mulling furiously over which things I wanted and why, and taking in-between nibbles from my old rabbit corpse. Yeah, my Inventory didn¡¯t preserve anything¡­this meat was starting to get a little rotty. With the rabbit gone, that meant I could hold everything I wanted!! Except the pink lotus flower. Wait, why did I still¡­ Poof. A flower¡ªthe perfect size to fit on my head, a decent color to resemble Reed¡¯s head if you squinted¡ªdrifted to earth. It was delightful and quaint, the way it spun as it swayed through the air, landing with a flouncing curtsey¡­ The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. I didn¡¯t have to tap too hard into my Wisdom to divine the reasons I¡¯d kept this. It wasn¡¯t just the flower I¡¯d used to get the blue witch lady to point me toward Reed. It was a nice little object, in and of itself. It was a comforting object, like a certain Vencian someone¡¯s quilt. I didn¡¯t really need it. In fact, my old self on Earth would¡¯ve ditched it by now¡­though maybe with a heavy heart. Briefly I scooped up the dress. I felt bad for it, as if it was a living being I was about to leave behind.
Peasant Costume Dress
Though Vencian peasants didn¡¯t actually wear silk, the V patterns wrapped around the sleeves and hemline of this dress combined with the sandy color make this an acceptably faithful recreation of a Resolution-Era South Vencian dress.
Wait, never mind. After receiving this history lesson devoid of any useful-sounding info, I stopped feeling guilty about it. Furthermore, as a cat who had never called that kindly shepherd my ¡°friend,¡± and without a single pencil to my name, I couldn¡¯t be relied upon to politely hand this dress back, assuming they even wanted it. I scanned it all again. The satchel of Pecan Zingers on the ground, and the five things in my official possession.
Inventory: 5/5
Koi Corpse Nourishing, but won¡¯t heal HP or SP. Reed¡¯s Quilt Lady Canny Statuette Heidschi¡¯s Letter A handwritten letter of salutation and parting signed by Heidschi Opus. Pink Lotus Flower
¡­Grrrgh! I could find more koi later! I would find more koi later! Ejecting a floppy, nearly fresh fish body from thin air, I took the Zingers. Reed was going to appreciate them so hard. Then I ate that well-earned fish and¡­ugh, too much meat too fast. Now I felt like vomiting. I stood motionless, hoping that the queasiness would pass. As I did so, I watched a few caterpillars crawl across roots, seemingly happy as caterpillars could be. Should I¡­slap them off? Even if I was saving my Experience for when I needed a big charge? Yeah¡ªyeah, no question. Boff.
EXP: 98% (1613/1650)
Cool. Okay, soon my stomach would feel more settl¡ª I heard something that made me freeze up. That fateful sound, more out-of-place than a goose honk or a car horn or even a drum. It was a conversation between two humans, just behind this thicket, just one Leap away. Proceed with caution, Taipha. Due south, between me and the next leg of the Vencian Woods, were a couple of chatty humans. Either I could do this the easy way and avoid them, or do the more interesting thing and sit in the shade of bushes, taking their conversation in. And who knew, maybe that second option would lead to strokes of kindness. I took the second option. After putting an ear close to the bush I was about to stand behind, making sure that no clumps of vicious ladybugs or anything was waiting inside to stab me, I hunkered down. Then I listened, squinting through the brambles. I could see legs and feet, one pair a lot shorter than the other. The voices confirmed they were an adult and child. ¡°¡­more minutes,¡± said the woman. ¡°But I don¡¯t wanna,¡± said the kid. The woman was frustrated, but kept her attitude soft. ¡°What part of ¡®amazing giant mansion haunted for untold centuries¡¯ don¡¯t you understand?¡± she said. ¡°Is that not cool to you?¡± ¡°Not for a whole week,¡± the kid grumbled. Their leg jerked and kicked up dirt. Ooh. Okay. That didn¡¯t necessarily sound like it¡¯d be on my Map, but it did promise adventure. It also made me wonder how this woman (guessing she was a mom) had endured the kid¡¯s complaints for the whole trip so far. That car trip must¡¯ve been¡­oh yeah, they probably didn¡¯t have cars here¡­their foot trip? Teleporting? The legs trotted away. I almost wanted to follow right behind, but I mostly wanted to remain unseen. Sure, maybe they¡¯d be nice to me¡­but did I really want a bratty kid and a put-upon parent to even notice me? It sounded like a two-star family movie waiting to happen. Plus, I had Stealth. The boost from it was so small it had never ended up mattering to date, but the reassurance of my hiddenness was good. I wobbled a paw before my eyes for a moment, testing my Speed. Yep, Stealth was active¡ªnobody was watching me right now. I tiptoed out of the bush and, carefully monitoring my pace and making sure not to rouse the plants around me, walked at around the same speed as the mother and child, always staying half a meter away. I started to walk beside them. Quick glances told me they were dressed in flowing robes edged with silver¡ªgreat clothes for wizards, but not for traveling, since they¡¯d get caught on everything. Which did happen a few times, on pointy bushes. Maybe these two were like the blue-haired witch with the really tall shoes: homebodies who preserved their fashion by never leaving long or walking far. If that was true, would they have a cabin nearby? Between Donovan the ranger, Heidschi the shepherd, and now these losers, the Vencian Wood was getting more human-populated than I¡¯d initially assumed it was. Suddenly¡ª ¡°Stop,¡± the mother whispered. And she sniffed, and I stopped in my tracks. This wasn¡¯t ordinary human sniffing either. She was really, intently smelling something. I angled my face upward, gently and quietly, to try and see how she was doing it¡­and she sniffed like a totally different animal, head back and nostrils up. It didn¡¯t matter if her foes were camouflaged or distant. She could smell them, smell me. 32. Claws That wizard woman was smelling with her head in the air¡ªan act that looked ridiculous on a human and only slightly less ridiculous on a quadruped. Seriously, she would¡¯ve looked more dignified if she¡¯d gotten on all fours and sniffed down there. But I knew this was a sign that the wizard mother and child were more than they let on. Wild? Monstrous? Or even¡ªinnocuous? Any of those could have been true. Yet my adrenaline pricked. With any luck, these two wouldn¡¯t care about small fry like me. I wasn¡¯t even their predator, after all¡­just some curious passerby. But better safe than sorry. They already knew I was here. Judging by the wind blowing across my back and directly toward them, they knew my location, too. Stealth hadn¡¯t turned off, they couldn¡¯t see me¡­but now that ceased to matter. I took off running the way I came, not caring how much noise I made. Yes, I¡¯d make a mental note of the approximate location of this weird giant mansion they were going to! I¡¯d figure it all out¡ªlater! But for now¡ª Her shout followed me: ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± Not ¡°that¡¯s it¡± as in ¡°I¡¯ve had it up to here with you,¡± but ¡°that¡¯s it¡± as in¡ª¡°I¡¯ve found it¡±? That was followed by a blast of magic so strong that I could feel its aftershock exploding to life around her and the child. I didn¡¯t look back. I activated a Leap and bounded over a fallen log, all while thinking, That¡¯s what? What¡¯s what? Uh???
Error: Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata is currently unavailable. She wants to make it clear that she doesn¡¯t feel bad for you right now. However, she¡¯s proud of you for doing your own work so much more often now. Please try again later. But try hard not to try again later.
Ack! Was this text box bigger and more sight-obscuring than normal, or was I just imagining things?! There was one upside to the box: it got me to focus on my other senses, if only for a moment. On the sounds behind me¡ªon footsteps! They were coming after me! And they were fast, not some slow strides from the wizardly tanks I¡¯d taken them for. In fact, even though I was still booking it, I knew they were close behind and even gaining. I was about to think Map as hard as I could when the text box blinked out and the woods broke open to reveal that field full of watering holes. All the same as before, only made a touch ethereal by the early morning sky. I took another Leap down a long slope. But I never landed. ¡°Got it,¡± shouted the kid, his voice a bit winded but just as bored as before. I was floating, my limbs dangling. Worse, I was just close enough to the earth that when I waved my claws in desperation, the slight breeze they made moved the grass. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Actually, I wasn¡¯t just floating: I was being held in place by green magic rings around my torso. Three of them. I could feel them pressing ever so slightly into my body. It was a gentle prison, I¡¯d give them that. But it was pretty sad to be captured this way by a child who didn¡¯t even care. Could I imagine a scenario in which this was all just a misunderstanding and the wizards loved me like a sister? No, not particularly. I looked over my shoulder with a snarl. It must not have come out too intimidating, because the kid smirked. The mom emerged from the trees, dusted herself off, and managed a prim smile at her kid. ¡°Good job,¡± she said. ¡°Proud of you.¡± ¡°Thanks,¡± he mumbled. ¡°Would you like to name them?¡± ¡°¡­Really?¡± For the first time today, his eyes sparkled with something like wonder. I was aghast. Did these two just capture me, out of nowhere, like I was some sort of catchable monster? A small, slight, Level 11, still-can¡¯t-defeat-two-squirrels gray cat? The two wizards came closer. Were they starting to examine me? ¡°What are some good names, Mom?¡± ¡°Well, Grandma¡¯s was named Lion. You could name them Lynx, or Tiger.¡± His face lit up. ¡°What about Claws?¡± I¡¯d had enough of this. First of all, those names were all bad. Hopelessly bad. Barely better than naming a persian cat Persian. And naming a cat Claws was like naming a human Feet, or Digits. Second, and by far more importantly, the spell holding me in place didn¡¯t seem to be getting any weaker¡­but not any stronger, either. All this time I¡¯d been fidgeting, shifting my body parts around as much as I could to see if I could squeeze myself out of this trap the way contortionists get out of cuffs, but that didn¡¯t seem possible. The rings calmly adapted themselves to my size, shape, and efforts¡ªand the happy wizard family didn¡¯t seem troubled at all. Inside, though, I boiled. No new owners. No new names. The mom patted her son on the shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s a fine name, Sephene! Now you get to put on the collar.¡± The boy, Sephene, didn¡¯t do anything, he just looked at her. ¡°The collar, did you bring it?¡± It occurred to me that at the necklines of the wizard cloaks were sleek black ties that almost looked like collars themselves, made of leather. Was I going to get my own? No! But my mental tone of defiance died down to a wimpy plea. Please don¡¯t have it. Please let me go. ¡°Ah, I have one you can use,¡± the mother said. She sucked in her disappointment, and so did I. Reaching into her deep cloak pocket, she fished around and pulled out a cat-sized collar with a shining silver clasp. She gave it to Sephene, but her son didn¡¯t look any more eager than before. I sensed this was my chance. He must¡¯ve been hesitating because even though he was fast, and a wizard, he was still just a wimpy human in the end. I had claws, as he knew all too well. And like all truly wild animals, I had the ability to fight, without hesitation, for my life. But no. To my horror, new rings formed around all four of my ankles. One even clamped my tail. Briefly Sephene tried casting a ring around my mouth¡ªa glowing muzzle¡ªbut it was so big that it wouldn¡¯t let him get the collar on. The muzzle puffed away. Opportunity was coming back. He¡¯d had to let me keep one weapon. No, two: my teeth and my headbutting skull. Sephene unclasped the collar, breathed, and reached it around me. I bowed my head and pretended to be docile until his hands were fully above me¡ªuntil his face was right in front of my forehead. That was when I used the third weapon he¡¯d allowed me: my handy Inventory. Some would argue that hurling a marble statuette in a child¡¯s face is overkill, but he was trying to make me his pet¡ªand who knew what else¡ªso I figured anything goes. I didn¡¯t catch how much damage it did, or what kind. I saw it start to shatter, a cloud of dust and pellets. I heard the kid scream. I heard the trumpets of victory and felt, for once, Sierra¡¯s approving smile. I felt every ring around my body slice me clean through.
HP 0% (0/258)
Shouldn¡¯t have hurt him so soon. Too hasty for my own good. I died. 33. Existential Waiting Room I¡¯d died. For the second time in my cosmic existence, I had beefed it and died. Now here I was in an empty void, feeling no body, no brain, no pain¡ªwell, besides the pain of my own horrible failures¡ªand knowing nothing about where I¡¯d ended up or where I was going. Maybe this was the end. I had a good run, though. Two good runs! I had to have been luckier than most. Unless I was unluckier than most, missing out on an afterlife that maybe most souls could get to. For all I knew, most souls ended up going to Soft Cloud Heaven while I was circulating through a purgatory of rebirth on increasingly weird planets. Or maybe my afterlife was worse. Was this going to be my whole existence now: spiraling in infinity, with nothing but the memories, comforts, and regrets I¡¯d built up in my lives? If that was the case, then¡­uh¡­I was going to have a progressively worse and worse time out here.
Error: Access to Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata has been denied. Please take a number and sit down.
Okay, so one thing besides my consciousness remained: my System. And one other thing was and would always remain true: the fact that Sierra was a jerk. How had she expected me to make it on my own in a world where I didn¡¯t know the rules?! Yes, I had street smarts, but that meant nothing in a world with no streets. Yes, I knew a thing or two about the way that wild animals operated, but not ones with, like, magic tails and other mysterious spells! I knew about cat societies, not human ones¡ªand in all my time in the Vencian Wood, I had never seen a single other cat! What had once seemed like a goddess-given opportunity, a chance for new growth and adventure, now felt like a cruel joke. A wrong move around humans had killed me. No, a wrong move around some humans had killed me. So much for banking on the kindness of strangers. In hindsight, I should have applied what I knew about Earth humans and their weaponry to these wizards too¡ªI should have assumed that any spell of theirs could kill. But clearly Reed and her cabin, despite her own intimidating weapon, had given me a first impression of humanity that was too soft. Hm¡­well, as long as I had nothing else to do here: Stats.
Stats
Taipha Ash Heather
Lv. #FALSE? EXP: ???% (???/???)
HP ???% (???/???)
SP ???% (???/???)
ATK 0 (NULL)
INT 0 (NULL)
DEF 0 (NULL)
WIS 0 (NULL)
SPD 0 (NULL)
Traits
#FALSE?
Skills
N/A (ERROR: BLOCKED)
Error: The System appears to be corrupted. Data may have been lost and several features may be unavailable. Please contact sysadmin for troubleshooting.
I trembled. It was no solace at all that I could move. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Map.
Error: Invalid request.
Inventory.
Error: Invalid request.
Help!
System Help Desk Activated.
Select a category below to learn more: St@t4 ee1vl7 craits Pkdl1_ Ev9^vni0b Achi8Dkwss M8p tKepsu8&5 Imvrint 8dmfs Elf0sok)75 (locked by sysadmin) 0()(dle Ll8$$ (locked by sysadmin) Existential Purpose
¡­So this is what it¡¯d all come to. The most blatantly important thing in my Help Desk, and it only now got activated. Existential Purpose.
Your Existential Purpose is the gestalt whole of the guiding missions and principles that give your life meaning. While an Existential Purpose is not always necessary to produce fulfillment, it is handy for Arkmagi to think of said Purposes as the programming that drives organisms to do what they do. Sometimes it is better for one not to know one¡¯s own Existential Purpose. As a System User, you may find that knowledge of your own Purpose is always just out of reach, swinging precariously among the other toys that your capricious master (your sysadmin and Arkmagus) holds. When this is the case, knowing that you might never know might well be a torment worse than death itself. All Arkmagi, even the kindest ones, know this and exploit it, for there is no deity who freely consorts among their own people.
Never in a million years would I have read and reread this message so patiently, and so without rage, unless I was floating in the vastness of starless space like now. Amazingly, I thought I understood. Eventually. And I didn¡¯t like it. The gist of it seemed to be, ¡°Sierra is this thing called an Arkmagus. All Arkmagi are mean. Therefore, Sierra is mean.¡± With a dash of, ¡°Taipha must never know why she exists, for reasons.¡± Part of me refused to take the message as soul-crushingly serious as it wanted to be taken. Part of me was terribly scared. Then the box expanded itself before my eyes, tacking on another note.
However, your sysadmin has found it appropriate to append an Encouraging Note of Existential Purpose to this message.
¡°Encouraging¡±? Great! Lay it on me! Wait. This was such an obvious trick, and I was no fool. If anything, I was smarter than ever before, now that my Attack equaled my Intelligence and Wisdom. But¡­fine. I had nothing better to do than read it.
Encouraging Note of Existential Purpose from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
You basically just exist to help and love people. By running around Vencia like a chicken with her head cut off, you inevitably bump into more and more people with their own problems¡ªusually small, but your influence ripples. There¡¯s an idea called ¡°the butterfly effect.¡± If so much as a single wingbeat had never occurred, the whole course of reality may have changed.
Well, thank you for telling me that, Sierra. Thank you for laying your truth and intentions bare, thank you for only doing this at a time when I could literally do nothing with the information but go around in thought-circles chasing my own thought-tail for eternity. Yeah. Thanks. The box closed itself after a while. How long of a while? I couldn¡¯t even track the minutes out here. It was all featureless and¡­ Oh. I could see stars now. When had they blinked into existence? Had the firefly-like blips above and below me only just materialized, or had they been there, dimly? Ugh. I wished more than ever that I¡¯d paid more attention to Vencia¡¯s starscape. It did have stars, but the last time I¡¯d been able to watch them, I¡¯d been preoccupied by sheep and a quilt. And before then, I¡¯d been preoccupied by¡­Reed and a quilt. Life was a racket of missed opportunities. At least now I was beginning to see a pretty nebula out ahead of me. Sweet. That almost took my mind off of the encroaching depression. It looked like a hollow cocoon of an egg, with stars of webbing stretched along its casing. The luminous fibers glowed with every color of the rainbow, growing brighter and brighter the closer I came. ¡­Getting closer¡­ But I felt totally stationary. I had no bodily motion, no momentum, and couldn¡¯t feel a single current of air to let me know that movement was happening in the first place. And yet I was not stationary. I was moving toward that nebula, whether I wanted to or not. To be fair, I did want to. It looked so pretty. But the universe hadn¡¯t asked me first. Kind of rude. Either I was speeding up, or the closeness and sheer size of the nebula were getting overwhelming now. Soon it was all I could see before me¡ªthen it was all around me. Then I was blazing forward. Stars and comets and gaseous space matter zoomed past me. The fabric of the universe tore across my vision fast enough to whip me in the face, but I felt nothing, only saw the majesty of things parade past, each bit for a fraction of a second. My impression was nothing but kaleidoscope, pure color and speed¡ª And then a planet, just a single planet replaced the nebula¡ª Familiar clouds and atmosphere¡ªwas I coming home?! Down below, a castle¡ª I filled with fear. Either I was going to phase through like a ghost, or crash through, and my mortal instincts hadn¡¯t left me yet. I shut my eyes tight. I didn¡¯t open them for several seconds. Not until I heard a sound, the first sound to greet my ears since my afterlife began. ¡°I don¡¯t think this Vencia project is going well.¡± 34. Arkmagi, Young and Infinite I heard it from around the corner of an unfamiliar castle hall: ¡°I don¡¯t think this Vencia project is going well.¡± This castle was a glittering mass of copper-colored tile and stone on the outside¡ªat least, that¡¯s what I¡¯d gathered while hurtling straight through the stratosphere and the ceiling. Now I was levitating inside a maze of white walls and wood whose color resembled burnished gold. The hallway was long and had many forks. Far ahead of me, humans with bowed heads and ornate shawls crossed from path to path. The same voice continued, playful and leisurely. ¡°What were your guiding principles this time again?¡± Another voice sighed¡ªand the sigh shook the passageway. ¡°They don¡¯t change,¡± it insisted. Hm¡­ Technically I had infinite options. Since I was dead¡ªor at least dreaming, or something¡ªI wasn¡¯t tangible. My Stats were all zeroes, but they were also through the roof, literally. Meaning I could jet my way around the universe! Right? But obviously I wouldn¡¯t leave after hearing a stranger mention that Vencia ¡°wasn¡¯t going well.¡± I started creeping around the corner toward that voice¡­and was startled to see my paws pass through the floor like it was air. Snap out of it. It¡¯s not permanent, I thought, without conviction. Look, just distract yourself with the conversation, okay? I started floating instead of creeping. With a steady application of will, I coaxed my body to coast. How did it work? I wasn¡¯t prepared to answer that. ¡­Wait, what happens if people see me? Is that even possible? ¡°Ah, but you added a little more of the System this time,¡± the leisurely voice said. ¡°It¡¯s not the System that¡¯s the problem, strictly speaking, it¡¯s just¡ªthey get rowdy.¡± ¡°No, they want the fullness of the power they believe is rightfully theirs¡­¡± Uh, they couldn¡¯t have been talking about me, right? I didn¡¯t have any clear notion of what was ¡°rightfully mine,¡± besides, like, the obvious¡ªmy body. Any Skills I got, I would take, but I didn¡¯t need their ¡°fullness.¡± Maybe I should¡¯ve just listened, but it was hard to clear my racing mind after all the recent weirdness. I rounded the corner and made my way behind a freestanding paper wall. It was dark fuchsia on one side, yet see-through on the other, decorated with wafting ferns and dandelions. This was a room of riches. A thousand precious stones I couldn¡¯t name had been fashioned into chandeliers, enormous rose-filled vases, and swirling decorative patterns on the wooden walls. These walls showed a forest scene in wild, lush technicolor, with wolves, boars, and¡­dragons. Lots and lots of dragons. That part made sense, because at one end of a rather large marble table sat a dragon that barely fit in the room at all. So this was the source of the booming voice. His body was long, snakelike, and opulently gold, constantly bristling with golden-bronze clouds of sheer energy. With every breath, powerful nostrils heaved. Fangs poked out from the lip. This was¡­the king of Vencia? If so, then maybe the person at the other end of the huge marble table was his advisor? Swaddled in so many black scarves and cloaks, that advisor was harder for me to get a read on. Underneath their hood and baggy sleeves, I saw hints of pallid gray skin. Their hands constantly fidgeted, fiddling with their teacup, their chin, or just the other hand. ¡°It¡¯s time you gave up,¡± the advisor said. ¡°If it weren¡¯t for this overdramatic cloud palace, the ¡®Lord¡¯s Own¡¯ paladins would have all this for firewood. And your body.¡± The dragon shut his eyes and sighed again. ¡°All the same, I want to finish what I¡¯ve started.¡± ¡°Have you ever considered that there¡¯s more than one way to make a clean slate? You don¡¯t have to kill them,¡± the advisor said with a jarring laugh. ¡°Just take their Skills!¡± ¡°That would¡­that would mess up their historical record.¡± ¡°Yes. They¡¯d just have an Age of Myth.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to plunge them into a Dark Age.¡± ¡°Then let someone else do that. You have them on the line already.¡± ¡°I am not consorting with the Beyond!¡± the dragon stormed. A flurry of magic stormclouds swept through the room, nearly knocking down the wall I stood behind¡ªand getting me to shiver despite my utter numbness. The discussion stayed hushed for several seconds. Then a new voice interrupted before the smoke could fully clear. ¡°Gib¡¯s right, though!¡± she said, the tones full and bright. ¡°You¡¯re a total flip-flopper. The sooner you admit it, the better!¡± ¡°You tell ¡®im,¡± a deeper one added. I heard shuffling and clanking teacups. By the time the puffs had cleared, two new faces were sitting at the table, claiming the long sides of the rectangle. One of them I could only see from the back. She had short, untamed brown hair, a long silver gown, and a tie like black leather around her neck. Wait¡­was that the same tie I¡¯d seen on that wizard boy Sephene, minutes before his spell slashed me apart? Across from that person was a¡­a catgirl! A woman with long hair that tufted in places like a fluffy cat¡¯s luxurious mane, white around her face and inside of her ears but deep brown and black elsewhere. She had come dressed like some kind of businesswoman, wearing a tweed blazer. Was it just me, or did her gaze seem to disapprove of everything and everybody? Okay, it had to be just me, because the next thing out of her mouth sounded deathly familiar. ¡°I noticed you didn¡¯t even bother inviting me, Norton,¡± she said to the dragon. ¡°I do appreciate cards and condolences, you know.¡± The advisor¡ªGib¡ªleaned forward on an elbow. ¡°Likewise, we appreciate your friendship, and the reliability of it.¡± Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. The dragon Norton was more straightforward. ¡°There¡¯s hardly any point when you¡¯re in a different palace every week.¡± ¡°So Teague is my glorified pager?¡± ¡°Guess so.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t mind,¡± the brown-haired woman said. She was still chipper, and she shifted and bobbed as she spoke and followed the conversation. ¡°You don¡¯t even need to pay me. All I ask is that you¡¯re happy!¡± ¡°Aw,¡± Gib fawned¡ªwhile Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata, looked away and narrowed her eyes. That had to be her. The way she acted reminded me of¡­okay, it was starting to remind me of myself too. How I didn¡¯t want to acknowledge Sierra even when she was being helpful, yet admitting that helpfulness would feel like giving in. I couldn¡¯t imagine being friends with someone as standoffish as her, let alone having her as a kingdom consort¡­but immediately after thinking that, I remembered how standoffish I was and I just got sad. Teague reached across the table for her hand. Sierra sheepishly accepted. ¡°We are gathered here for¡ª¡± ¡°Stop that,¡± Sierra said to Norton. ¡°¡­Okay, but just to make you happy.¡± Poof. The massive dragon became a white-haired young man dressed in brocaded finery that equaled the splendor of his old scales. Actually, traces of scales remained on his neck and hands, and so did the piercing gold of his eyes. Wooden diddlies like antlers stuck out from his head. Sierra smirked at Gib. ¡°You two are so insecure.¡± ¡°If I looked like all my constituents, I would have a new form every five seconds,¡± Gib said. ¡°Yeah, and I would step on you.¡± ¡°Thank you for the offer. A light breeze has the same effect, though.¡± Norton restarted. ¡°I call this meeting to¡ª¡± ¡°Why do you keep treating your creations like notes instead of, y¡¯know, finished drafts?¡± Teague asked Gib. ¡°It¡¯s gotta stop being fun sometime.¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s still fun. I have too many ideas, and I do not think werewolves are cool.¡± Even from directly behind her, I could tell Teague frowned seriously at that. A fist banged on the table. ¡°I call this meeting to order!¡± Everyone stopped talking¡­then broke into giggles. Uh, at first I¡¯d assumed this was a royal hotshot meeting with the fate of the world in its hands, but now it looked like a random party that just happened to feature all-powerful deities. Or was ¡°Arkmagi¡± the word? Either way, I was seriously debating my next move¡ªwhether to even make a move. How did all this work? If I got Sierra¡¯s attention somehow, would she bring me back to life? Wait¡­would I even want to return to life if I¡¯d be lobbed back into a coming Vencian Dark Age? Now Norton was up, pacing, with scaly hands behind his back. ¡°The situation in Vencia has gone sour. I was very excited about my most direct mortal interventions to date, particularly the part where I made a magically enhanced warrior class to patrol the republic. Sadly, my interventions actually brought about a dystopian society earlier than usual.¡± Alright. ¡°Dystopian¡± sounded distinctly unlike the Vencia that I knew, and so did roaming paladins. I had to be in a weird mirror dream world, or a different timeline, or¡­ Sierra raised her hand. ¡°Give up,¡± she said. ¡°I¡­didn¡¯t call on you. Also, no.¡± Teague raised her hand. ¡°Yes?¡± Teague took a deep breath. ¡°Like I was saying when I came in, you¡¯ve already made friends with some Things from Beyond. And you bragged about it! Saying you didn¡¯t would just be dishonest.¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t bragging! I was taking a clear stand so the other Arkmagi would know which side I was on¡­and it only backfired later when I wanted to change my side back. A-and we¡¯re not even friends anymore!¡± ¡°Convincing,¡± Sierra said dryly to Gib. Norton said, ¡°Yes, I am insecure, and I¡¯ll own that.¡± Teague said, ¡°Maybe you can hand this whole planet to the Beyond. You¡¯ve basically prepped it for them.¡± ¡°That sounds evil. I mean, more so than what I¡¯ve put this planet through already.¡± ¡°Well, what if¡­what if you just hand over five humans, or some amount like that?¡± Norton squinted in irritation. ¡°Oh geez, no.¡± ¡°He won¡¯t hear about any ¡®greater good¡¯ that¡¯s not his own,¡± Gib hummed. Then they raised their hand. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°I think you should simply hand the place to me.¡± Teague turned to them with sparkling eyes. ¡°Oh my gosh! With the magic and the myths and legends already set up? That¡¯d be so cool! As long as you don¡¯t just fill it up with random sludge monsters!¡± ¡°There can be sludge dragons.¡± ¡°You¡¯re such a creative mind, Gib!¡± Turning to Norton, she added, ¡°Trying to attain the perfect society is cool too, but you¡¯ve just got to make the best of a slightly crappy thing, and Gib¡­Gib can do that.¡± Sierra raised her hand again. ¡°Can you let me examine the minds of some of your corrupt warrior class, actually? I need to research the problem of evil so my next catgirl doesn¡¯t go rogue.¡± Norton didn¡¯t answer. Now his mind was heavy, and the longer he stood staring pensively at the floor, the more that silence became like a weight. At last, he announced, ¡°Cool!¡± He didn¡¯t exactly sound satisfied, but the outburst did give the other three some relief. ¡°Cool, yeah, I¡¯ll write it out,¡± he said, extending a hand and¡ªpoof¡ªgetting to work with quill and parchment. ¡°Sierra, you can temporarily extend your System to several Vencians, in a limited capacity, just to scan their brains.¡± ¡°And can I ask them questions?¡± Sierra added, demonstrating a deep and abiding interest in the thoughts of others which, perhaps, she would never show again. ¡°Sure! As many as you want within the span of four weeks. Then we¡¯ll mindwipe it.¡± ¡°I¡¯m alright with that.¡± ¡°Gib, you¡¯ll get possession of Vencia, you get to decide when and how I withdraw my System, and you can pick and choose which citizens you want to give your System to.¡± ¡°That should work,¡± Gib said, leaning back. ¡°But I¡¯m thinking I¡¯d rather invite in some leftover spirits from an old planet¡­¡± ¡°Not the ghosts and ghouls?¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s totally the ghosts and ghouls.¡± ¡°Aw, no¡­¡± Norton rolled his eyes, though he was still writing at a breakwrist pace. ¡°Not the Shadow Kings.¡± ¡°The Shadow Kings.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine. I cede control. Lastly, Teague, you can¡­you want to do any werewolf experiments?¡± ¡°Do you really think I¡¯m still doing werewolves?¡± Teague said. ¡°Because I am.¡± ¡°¡­Sierra, you¡¯re not teaching her sarcasm very well.¡± ¡°I try,¡± Sierra said. ¡°Just not hard.¡± With a final splashy signature across the bottom of the makeshift contract, a brief golden glow beamed from the page. So the business was done¡ªand I had no clue what was up next. I figured I knew what this was now. I had gone back in time, before the Age of¡­the Era of¡­whatever time period the Lady Canny statuette¡¯s description had mentioned. This Norton guy had goofed, ruling Vencia but changing it into a horror show in the process. Now he was handing it over to his friend Gib¡ªalso goofy¡ªto usher in the reign of the scary-sounding Shadow Kings. And Sierra was there too! Now that the conversation was turning, I kept my eyes firmly on Sierra. It made sense that she would be the key. By Leaping into her arms¡ªsorry, I meant by slowly scooting my ghostly form so that it almost phased through her arms¡ªmaybe I could jog her memory of me! But wait, my own birth hadn¡¯t happened yet. Maybe it was safer to bide my time and¡ª ¡°Okay, break out the snacks,¡± Sierra announced, standing boldly. ¡°Whose turn for Movie Night?¡± Rrrgh! One hour and thirty minutes of continued chicanery?! I wasn¡¯t gonna stand for it, nor float for it. Zero Speed, activate! I passed through the paper wall possibly faster than paint dries. The foursome at the table were shifting, de-Inventorizing and re-Inventorizing goods, debating the merits of movies in corny boxes that even I could tell were uniformly bad¡­ Nobody noticed me. I positioned myself in the air. A floating cat, directly in Sierra¡¯s face, occasionally overlapping it as she argued laughingly with Gib. I activated Skills, just to marvel at the nothing that would do. I didn¡¯t cry, but only because I was a cat and cats can¡¯t do that. Then the lights started to dim. Norton was turning a dial at the edge of the gem-encrusted room, and the movie was about to begin. Oh no¡ªit was all over, wasn¡¯t it? My faint hopes of getting Sierra¡¯s attention, lost¡­and my own soul lost either in these halls or in those vast nebulae of space. It¡¯d been a good life, a good two lives, but not nearly good enough to make my afterlife feel full. Now everything was getting so dim. Too dim. Or was it my eyes that were changing? My senses of touch, taste, and smell had already been gone, so it made sense that now my vision would leave. My ears seemed to stuff up with tissue and fog. Colors, all dark, were bleeding into each other, blotting with the tears I hadn¡¯t shed. It all bled together. And then I was back in dark numb space. I spent seven seconds in despair. Then I saw Sierra wake up with a gasp, rattled awake by a rough dream. Or maybe she only looked so frightened because I was currently standing on her collarbone and staring into her unsettlingly close face. O-okay, great! I felt her skin and bone under me¡ªI could feel things again! I must¡¯ve been back to¡ª Lightning struck, seemingly right outside a cabin window. I yowled and fell to the floor. 35. Cruise Control Thunder spooked me off of Sierra¡¯s torso and back-first onto a rickety floor. It was too short a distance for me to land at all gracefully¡ªat least, that was my excuse when she shoved herself upright, leaning back on her palms. Was this where she lived? Where she worked? Both? It could¡¯ve been both. My reactivated senses told me that this had to be the cabin of a great rocking ship, everything creaking in the middle of a torrential storm. I saw Sierra¡¯s bed, obviously, a short and sloppy heap of brown blankets on brown basket-weaving. But around it were mixed messages: a bedside table, but also a library¡¯s worth of books on crowded shelves, and then also a principal-worthy desk with a desk lamp, with visitor-worthy couch chairs near a closed exit door. There was also a telescope beside the tiny window, just to confuse me further. I had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Just standing under Sierra¡¯s glare as a long, strange moment of recognition passed. She fluffed her hair back into place (more or less), then looked at me with a huff. ¡°Knew something like this would happen,¡± she grumbled, seemingly to herself. She got up, revealing sloppy, slouchy clothes, and I realized that instead of having a single tail, she had five. Wait, had that been true in the flashback-world too, or was that a new thing? I couldn¡¯t even remember¡­I wasn¡¯t good at paying attention to details like that when I had bigger, death-related things to worry about. Nonetheless, she strode over to the bookshelf and, with a single confident movement, slipped out five books at once. Then she squatted and handed them over to me. ¡°A death¡¯s gotta hurt, but it should also be worth something,¡± she muttered, not even looking me in the eye. ¡°Here, have this.¡± Thoomp. Five books, one of enormous size, plopped onto the floor and threatened to tear a hole in it. ¡°Mraow,¡± I said. Translation: I don¡¯t have access to my arms, you jerk. Also, I can¡¯t read! She got behind the desk, took a seat, and flipped her hair back. ¡°I know,¡± she said. ¡ªShe could read my thoughts. Or, rather, she could still read them, even while she was in non-box communication with me. Should it really have surprised me? I looked away bitterly. This is going to be¡­annoying. ¡°Come on,¡± Sierra said with a lazy smile. ¡°You have to have gathered by now that I never make you feel mad for mad¡¯s own sake. I love you like my own child!¡± That just made me cringe. ¡°¡­Okay, I do it for my own personal gain.¡± She started picking at her ear with her finger. Her pointer finger. Eugh¡­I didn¡¯t like that at all. Her cat ears were so big in proportion to her cranium that it almost seemed like she could plunge a hand in wrist-deep. That hand was a spelunker. Keep in mind that this was the backdrop for her next statements: ¡°I¡¯m out to make the smartest beings in the universe. Across every universe, really. People with the craftiness of humans and the savvy of felines. So I hope you consider it an honor. And¡±¡ªshe coughed¡ª¡°the truly intelligent would look past the, uh, dingy surroundings.¡± Outside, a wave walloped the side of the room. ¡°The least you could do is accept my gift!¡± she said, gesturing at the books. ¡­I nosed the pile apart. An enormous book whose cover design and weight made it resemble a huge hunk of marble. The two paperback books I¡¯d already seen¡ªthe green-haired girl¡¯s mystery novel and the blue-haired girl¡¯s cheap illegible magic book. Then some kind of illustrated children¡¯s book, and a book whose cover was just grey stitching. ¡°Maow,¡± I said. Translation: Horrible. It means something I¡¯m not supposed to know yet, doesn¡¯t it. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. But then an unexpected feeling rose into my throat. Until now, I¡¯d had disparate, piecemeal frustrations. Why wouldn¡¯t she speak to me when I wanted her to, and why had she given me such confusing powers? Why had she let me die, come back, and die again? But now those were all building up into a single black ball. It made me want to tear up. It was bile. My frustration at Sierra was building up, and now, volcanic, it was trying to blow. I didn¡¯t even care about the problem of evil, or any of the issues she¡¯d been discussing with her fellow Arkmagus friends in the vision I¡¯d seen. I cared about the issues that affected me, my puny little mortal soul, on the ground. I cared about my people, and about what Sierra had tacitly promised me I could have with my people. Sierra wasn¡¯t the only smart one here, was she? I could reason. And I could see all the books taunting me with whatever sort of high galactic reputation she had. I remembered a message that had bothered me since the first time I saw it, though I¡¯d tried not to probe too deep at the time. It was the message that had come with my latest language Human Language advancement:
Now you have everything you need to communicate on Vencia!
It just wasn¡¯t true. She had the gall to mash me together with human beings and expect us to be friends, despite the fact that I could never reach a high enough threshold to even talk to them. My attempts to nudge myself there, by speaking slowly and studying words until my eyeballs shriveled up, had been fruitless. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re reading it right,¡± Sierra said lackadaisically. ¡°Stage 2 is the highest that thing goes.¡± I stared at her in utter disbelief. She couldn¡¯t even give me a ¡°sorry.¡± All the times I¡¯d been angry at her in the past, they paled in comparison to this. Yanking my chain with bonds that couldn¡¯t exist, that could never be deep. Playing with my Traits like it was a practical joke! Surrounding me with books I could never read. ¡°You¡¯ll read them,¡± she said with the utmost calm. I jumped onto the desk with a wild hiss. I had no Skills, but I did have guts¡ªso I clawed at her with both front paws. She caught both in a single hand, lightly clasped. I struggled against it, growling all the while. But as the minutes passed, the fire within me petered out, and Sierra shot me a look of deep disapproval. Beyond that careless smile, was the goddess angry? ¡­Darn, I hoped not. ¡°I told you, you¡¯ll read them. You¡¯ll read all of them,¡± she continued, speaking deliberately. ¡°Every book in this room, every classic ever written, you¡¯ll be able to read them all.¡± Suddenly she dropped my claws and ducked under the desk. I let my claws fall, stepped back. Sierra came back up with a slim clamshell case in her hand. ¡°Don¡¯t you ever pick up on context clues?¡± she groaned. Popping open the case, she revealed a pair of glasses. Then she slid them over her eyes. Her irises went clear-white for an instant before resolving again into the silver color of moonlight. ¡°Of course there¡¯s crap like magic glasses!¡± she snapped. ¡°Werewolves exist! Magic exists! You¡¯ve figured that much out, now use your brain and go!¡± With that word came a lightning strike, so much closer and louder than the first¡ªI feared the window would shatter. I screeched and clutched my ears as the echoes themselves seemed to take me away. The whole room was receding! I was whizzing backward, but this time I wasn¡¯t weightless. The door smashed apart against my back, and a whole wooden boat yawned around me. Was I going to smash through its whole interior? For that matter, how long until my body just gave out and I splattered apart?! Just as that thought grazed my mind, the hurtling stopped. And the melting began. Was I going to float in a void again? That lying two-timing goddess, I hoped she died in that weird lightning blast¡ªserved her right for killing me, putting me in a new world without¡­ I woke up with the whistling of the forest wind in my ears.
Checkpoint Selected!
Location: Reed¡¯s Cabin
You have died and Respawned. A Respawn varies from a Rebirth in that while your current body (including Evolution) has not been affected, your Stats and Inventory may be depleted or otherwise altered.
Wait. Who selected what now? Ah, whatever. I was mentally exhausted and woozy on my feet. Home sweet home, I figured. 36. We Honor Our Spirits Oh boy. More time had passed between now and my last eviction from the void beyond death than I¡¯d realized at first. At some point in there, I¡¯d just gone totally hazy. Now that my short-term memory was coming back, I realized that I really had chosen a ¡°checkpoint¡± to come back from between the storm that rocked Sierra¡¯s cabin and now¡­
Respawn Initiated by sysadmin!
Select a Checkpoint:
Thanks to some more handy Systemic floating boxes, I¡¯d known I essentially had three choices: Taipha¡¯s Tree, Reed¡¯s Cabin, and Chapel Mountain. The mountain was out. Even without the embarrassment of how I¡¯d left, it just wasn¡¯t a convenient spot. It was in the far-northwest corner of the woods, after all. And it was home to wolves (and squirrels) that I didn¡¯t feel confident facing or even avoiding. With that out of the way, the choice should¡¯ve been easy. My tree was my home. The cabin wasn¡¯t. But on reflection, the main thing that¡¯d made Taipha¡¯s Tree like a home to me was the fact that I¡¯d rubbed my scent on it. I did make fond memories there. I did love the sturdy boughs of that tree and the way dragonflies would rest on its trunk. But it had also gotten overrun by, yes, the Raccoon Gang. It was going to get overrun by whatever animal could take control of it¡ªend of story. So that tree was not my home. Reed¡¯s Cabin was my checkpoint. So when I came back to life, it was at the front doorsteps on a bright and cloudy morning. That, at least, was a big relief. It would be a hassle to get back to where I¡¯d been exploring before my death, but that was a small price to pay for not becoming a werewolf kid¡¯s pet. ¡­Wait, so¡­if that dog girl from my after-death adventures made the same people who¡¯d just killed me, or at least their ancestors, was that goddess culpable? Were she and Sierra ¡°an item¡±? If so, was Sierra gonna break up with her, going to bat for her cat-child? Her dead cat-child, need I remind you? So many intricate questions, and none of them mattered more than the bowl of milk in front of the door. Huh. When¡¯d that get there? Don¡¯t mind if I do. Maybe some raccoons would come after me for lapping this up. Don¡¯t mind if I prepare for such a battle. But no one challenged me. When I was done, I reached a paw up and knocked on the door. Which was, of course, not nearly as loud as a fist. I¡¯d have to change into a¡ªcould I change into a¡­? I checked my Stats. All of them.
Stats
Taipha Ash Heather
Lv. 10 EXP: 0% (0/1500)
HP 100% (230/230)
SP 100% (185/185)
ATK 37
INT 24
DEF 26
WIS 17
SPD 33
Traits
Morph (Stage 2/5): Can become a nekomata at will. Somewhat limited time. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Human Language (Stage 2/2): Can thoroughly comprehend, and think in, the human languages used around you. Now you have everything you need to communicate on Vencia! Perfect Human Vision: Can see a spectrum of color equivalent to the visual range of most humans. Inventory (Stage 2/5): Can carry up to 5 item types in a personal magical vacuum. Max quantity of each item: 9. Stealth: SPD increases when alone and unseen.
Skills
Swipe SP Cost: 50 Effect: Attack with powered-up claws. Leap SP Cost: 30 Effect: Jump farther and faster than normal. Catnap SP Cost: 30 Effect: Nap on the road to regain a small amount of HP. Guard SP Cost: 15 Effect: Magically increase DEF. Meditate SP Cost: 15 Effect: Magically increase WIS.
Inventory: 3/5
Pink Lotus Flower Reed¡¯s Quilt Heidschi¡¯s Letter
On the one hand: yay! I had most of the important stuff back. Dying had knocked my Level and Stats down a peg, and I would miss Slash a little, but contrary to what Sierra had implied, dying didn¡¯t actually hurt too bad. I mean, okay, the pain was horrible, but¡­not the numbers so much. You get me. On the other hand: ugh! Why¡¯d I have to lose anything in the first place? Had these cuts been made automatically by my System, or had my Inventory and Stats been plucked out capriciously by a ¡°helpful¡± goddess? Would I ever truly know? Such matters and confusions were too great for my weak cat mind. It baffled me how Sierra could claim I was part of some ultra-brained galactic science experiment. Nonetheless, I had my Morph back. I transformed, shook off the poof of smoke, and knocked gently. ¡°Meow,¡± I said. (I didn¡¯t even bother trying ¡°hi.¡±) Light footsteps hurried to the door. Ah, I knew what was coming¡­ The door opened in a flash. There was the girl with the short light-green hair and the stupefyingly stern look. She took one look at me and¡ªgasped. Like suddenly she knew how impolite she¡¯d been. Then she slammed the door on me. Uh, okay, that was a change. Not a change that I knew what to do with, though. The door opened again, but this time it was with a fair bit of¡­ceremony. When the young lady had first opened the door, she¡¯d been wearing tight, midriff-baring, neon workout gear. Now she¡¯d covered it up with a baggy robe that reminded me of the werewolf wizards. In one hand, she held a candelabrum with a single lit candle, the pedestal hewn from rough, chunky gemstone, interwoven orange, brass, and blue. Her stoic look, which just looked mean and accusatory most of the time, now looked holy. ¡°Spirit of the woods, we welcome you,¡± she said, rattling the words off as if from an invisible script. Of course, for all I knew, there was one. ¡°I greet you in all meekness and charity. Inhale the smoke of my candle, for it is made of milk and incense. Drink the milk of my doorstep so that you may grant me your favor. This house is yours. Finis.¡± Right after her prayer, I shifted into my grey cat form again. Mainly because I didn¡¯t want her to catch my baffled expression. ¡°Ah,¡± she said. ¡°So the two of you are soulbound?¡± Did she mean my cat form and the nekomata form? Er, yeah, ¡°soulbound¡± was one word for it if you squinted¡­ I meowed noncommittally. Then I looked through the tempting space between her legs. Since the cloak was a little too short to touch the ground, the inside of the cabin showed through the gap. Hence the temptingness. She stepped to the side, and for the first time I saw Reed¡¯s Cabin in the full light of day. On my left was a bright and spacious living room made cozy by its lumpy sofas, heaping blankets, glass-doored cabinet of books, and dormant fireplace. Family photos and knickknacks sat on a stone hearth. What really drew my eye was a massive framed picture right above that hearth. I walked in, treading lightly. After being treated so disrespectfully by Sierra, and so weirdly worshipfully by the green girl, I was just in the mood for moving as if I truly were a hallowed being in a hallowed place. With my front paws on the hearth, I stared up at the photo¡ªno, the painting. It was incredibly textured, rich with raised swirls of paint¡­and yet realistic, a fully convincing portrait of a family on a hill overlooking the mountains. Who was up there? I thought I recognized a father, a mother, two grandparents, and three children. My eyes flew to their hair: grey-haired grandparents, a sandy-haired mother, but other than that, magenta. ¡°This isn¡¯t my house,¡± said the girl in the huge hood. She and her milk-and-incense candle had come up behind me. ¡°I¡¯m just a guest here. The pink-haired man up there, his name is Bastian Gnaeomi. I think he¡¯s still the owner of the house. They all used to live here every summer, and Mr. Bastian and his own father, that one over there, they built this cabin together with sweat and magic. ¡°But the cabin¡¯s probably going to Reed soon. There she is,¡± the girl added, pointing to the child on the right. There were three of them in the painting, all dressed like brawny little farmers, looking like they could be triplets. I wondered if Reed had been a tomboy as a kid, but I was pretty incapable of asking, and it wasn¡¯t the biggest question on my mind right now. I turned to the woman and said, ¡°Meow.¡± She gulped and bowed her head. ¡°Me?¡± she asked. ¡°Meow.¡± ¡°My name is Chora, Chora Chressen. I¡¯m just a visitor.¡± I pointed, first to the picture, then to her. ¡°Reed and I were friends, a long time ago¡­ She was kind enough to take me back.¡± The words came out in a grumble, and I had a feeling she wouldn¡¯t have said them at all if she hadn¡¯t suddenly started revering me. My biggest question wasn¡¯t about her or the blue-haired witch or even about Reed, but this: what was I to Chora? I mean, why was she worshipping me at all?! Yeah, she knew I had an Inventory, and when she saw it she went all dramatic and whispered ¡°what are you,¡± but was it really a big deal? Was it because animals like me weren¡¯t supposed to have Inventories, have magic, have multiple forms? But wild animals used Skills all the time. Plus, the condor Murder on that mountain not only seemed to have profound magical power, but also a place of some importance among humans. Yet they weren¡¯t kneeling and praying to him. What was even the difference? And why start worshipping me now when she used to be a total jerk?!?! ¡°Can I interest you in any more offerings, spirit?¡± Chora said. That¡¯s when I realized that everything she was doing was mere ritual. She was still a total jerk deep down. What changed were the rules she decided to follow. I used to be a weird stray animal to her, someone only worth tolerating. Now suddenly I was a bizarre spirit who could, I dunno, rain down bad luck on the house if mistreated. Funnily enough, that thought made me feel a whole lot more regal than before. I got the fantasy in my head that this was the way Earth cats had been treated when farmers had no choice but to make things comfortable for them¡ªor else the mice would decimate their crops. And if by ¡°offerings¡± she meant ¡°food¡± then I was game. 37. Through an Eye of Glass Everything was black, save for the candle in Chora¡¯s holder and four others on the floor around us. Curtains had come down. Chairs, a wooden wolf figurine, and a torn ottoman had been pushed to the side. Enough space had been cleared on the floor of Chora¡¯s bedroom for me, her, a big bowl of water, a big bowl of rabbit stew, and a big board with¡­ I still wasn¡¯t sure what was on it. ¡°Normally this board is for talking to spirits,¡± Chora said, her voice low as if who-knew-what spirits were listening at that very moment, ¡°but you can also use it to make any requests you might ask of me, your humble servant.¡± While I was grateful for the opportunity, I also wished that cats could roll their eyes. She passed me a wedge-shaped piece of wood with a glass window in its center. Ah¡ªglass! I grabbed it with both paws and eagerly smashed it against my face. Glass, glasses, enchanted glasses, maybe this would help me read the board! But the board was blurrier than ever before. ¡°¡­I meant for you to keep that on the board,¡± Chora groaned. I put it down. Chora laid one finger on the board, moving it now and then. It took me several moments to realize that she was pointing to different parts¡ªand that the parts were individual letters. Still so hard to read. ¡°If you can read these letters,¡± she said, ¡°then I want you to move this glass over each letter in sequence to spell out whatever you want to say. When you¡¯re done, let go. Or point to the exclamation mark in the corner. I dunno, it¡¯s your prerogative.¡± She coughed away that slip of the tongue. ¡°But if you cannot read the letters, then we¡¯ll do it together. We¡¯ll set our hands on the glass and move it together, all while you think of anything you might be burning to say. The board carries a mild enchantment. It should respond to your will¡ªand to make sure that I don¡¯t interfere, I will empty myself of mine.¡± Good, because this board looked very cheatable. It wasn¡¯t hard to guess why Chora had decided to pull out this board. No matter what she really thought of me¡ªwhether she liked me or not¡ªshe was determined, for whatever combination of reasons, to be a good host. I¡¯d take it. Besides, if this board did what I hoped it did, I could ask some really handy questions. To start, though, I decided to try it on my own. Shutting my eyes, I set my paws on the glass. At first I didn¡¯t move it, just to see if it would do anything on its own. It didn¡¯t¡­so maybe two or more people were required for that part. Then I opened my eyes and spelled the only thing I knew: C A T ! Chora squinted down at the board with a disgusted look on her face. ¡°Why would you even bother saying that¡­¡± she grumbled. ¡°Ahem. Okay, I get it now. Stop me if I¡¯m wrong, but these four things are probably the only four characters you know, correct?¡± I nodded because cats can¡¯t effectively roundhouse kick. ¡°You¡¯re not trying to spell ¡®cantrip,¡¯ are you?¡± I started shaking my head, but stopped myself. Eye-to-eye communication is horribly limited, but I tried to quirk my eyes and face in such a way that they¡¯d convey, ¡°Nnno, but I wouldn¡¯t not try to spell ¡®cantrip¡¯¡­¡± ¡°Well,¡± said Chora, looking a bit uncomfortable, ¡°I can try and get you a cantrip, but¡ª¡± She stopped when she noticed I was pointing to my eye. ¡°¡­That¡¯s a great idea,¡± she said intensely. ¡°Cantrip glasses for spirits and animals? That¡¯s like a billion-dollar idea. Except that most spirits can already read, and they generally have no money, so, maybe not. Anyway,¡± she said, back to normal in a flash, ¡°a cantrip that can help you read? That¡¯ll take a while. I promise you can have it in a week.¡± Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Huh, really? I couldn¡¯t tell whether ¡°a week¡± was fast or slow for cantrip-making in this world, but I had a feeling that Chora had given herself a time frame that was way too short. I tilted my head curiously. ¡°Three days,¡± she snapped. Ack! No, wrong interpretation! I shook my head wildly. ¡°One day.¡± I waved one paw through the air to cut her train of thought off. Then I paused, waited a moment, and used both of my paws to draw a line in the air¡ªdrawing a longer timeline. ¡°Okay,¡± Chora said with evident relief. ¡°Instead of focusing on speed, I will focus on quality. You have my word.¡± So was this Chora the Chantrip Chrafter? Interesting. I started to wonder if there was more to this cabin than meets the eye, like a place for her to do that work. Was there an extensive basement, a toolshed I¡¯d missed? Or were cantrips just made by mind magic and long meditation? ¡­Now her face was getting un-relieved again. I guessed it was out of my hands now. If she insisted on putting a lot of effort into the cantrip, of course I was gonna accept¡ªand if she happened to be making things needlessly hard on herself, then that was kind of her business. I took a drink, set my paws back on the glass, and looked imploringly up at her. ¡°Understood,¡± Chora said, and she set her fingers on the other side. ¡°Now we watch the board and relax ourselves.¡± It was easy for me to loosen up in this room of soft edges and cloudy incense. I couldn¡¯t say the same for Chora, though, just based on her stiff posture. Nonetheless, we let go together as best as we could and, after about a minute¡ªjust long enough for me to suspect that this would never work¡ªthe glass started to move. Was the sensation instinctive or supernatural? No, neither¡­the sensation was both of these things, mixed together and made inseparable. As astounding as it was, it also made me feel uncomfortable. I felt exposed, somehow, maybe because the threads of fate or the universe or Sierra¡¯s secretary were running through me all too palpably. I couldn¡¯t see what we were spelling, but I knew when we were done. The current of cosmic instinct stopped its flow, making us stop too. I let go and looked at Chora. She snapped up a pencil and paper off the floor and scratched out what we¡¯d spelled. Then she looked it over, her thoughts clearly moving fast. She recited, ¡°Werewolves wanted me. Who are they?¡± Then she set the paper aside and took a deep, preparatory breath. Meanwhile, I wondered why this, of all questions, was the one that the universe and/or my subconsciousness found most prudent for me to ask. ¡°The lycanborn¡ªalso known as lycanborns, lycanborn people, werewolves, it all works¡ªare people who transform into rabid, powerful wolves in the light of moonrock and meteors. They went from persecutors to persecuted in the span of about a thousand years, but today they¡¯re just people with this specific hereditary power that they almost never use. Hm¡­ I guess it makes sense that you¡¯d find some of them in the Vencian Wood. There used to be a lycanborn estate around here, but it was virtually destroyed in the South Vencian War, along with countless other things¡­¡± ¡°Meow!¡± I interjected. ¡°The war? You want to hear more about it?¡± ¡°Meow.¡± ¡°Sorry, I would give you the whole encyclopedia¡¯s worth if I knew,¡± Chora sighed. ¡°I think that started in the year 3894, something about the cost of grain¡­lasted about ten years. Some lycanborn farmers versus the Anti-Heraldic Wizards who came down from outposts in the more southerly Kaug Mountains. They taught me about it in school, but¡­forgive me, spirit, I never thought it would end up being useful.¡± ¡°Meow,¡± I said consolingly. Chora bit her lip. ¡°What gets me,¡± she said, ¡°is how you say they ¡®wanted you.¡¯ You mean as a servant, a pet?¡± I nodded. This part really didn¡¯t seem that complicated to me. ¡°How did it happen? Were you just walking along in the woods when they spotted you, came after you, maybe even trapped you?¡± Wow, she hit the nail on the head! I nodded vigorously. ¡°So you mean they just saw you and thought, ¡®Hey, I want that.¡¯¡± Um¡­yeah, they did, what¡¯s your point. I nodded again. ¡°Just a wandering animal¡ªwandering spirit, excuse me¡ªlike you, huh?¡± Chora said. Yeah. ¡°But why would a wolf person even want a¡­¡± She glared at me¡ªwith fear? Aw, no, this was a weird repeat of that time she found out I had an Inventory! I wasn¡¯t that amazing, I swear! ¡°The gall, man! The absolute gall!¡± she cried. ¡°You can¡¯t just tame a cat. I mean, what would they even do with you? Keep you in the garden, let you be their walking lawn ornament?!¡± I meowed with my head high. This was still bizarre, and I wasn¡¯t a man, but as a lifelong stray, I couldn¡¯t have agreed more! ¡°Did those people hurt you?¡± I was hesitant to reply, since Chora was starting to sound like a pro-cat anti-dog fanatic. Eventually, though, I did nod. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, cat spirit,¡± she said, her irritation leaving like smoke. ¡°I¡¯m sorry they did that to you. You want to be free, so you should be free. I¡¯m not doing much of anything in this cabin anyway¡ªI speak from the bottom of my heart when I say that I would be honored to serve such a noble cat spirit as yourself. Those people deserve a beating¡­or at least a long lecture, something to make them feel guilty. "Since these lycanborn people have wronged you, if need be¡ªif you ever say the word¡ªI will hunt them down to the ends of the earth, for your sake." She blinked. ¡°Or the ends of the forest.¡± Whatever Chora thought of me, whatever her motives, the one thing she¡¯d always respected was my cat-ness. In honor of the respect she gave me, I let her be my liege. She kneeled and raised her hood. I set one paw on the back of her head. Didn¡¯t know if I was doing this right, but I sensed that she didn¡¯t quite know either. 38. Gems and Flowers When Chora and I tried spelling another message on the board, it didn¡¯t move. Did that mean it was time for me to go? Huh? Well, did it, punk?
Error: Connection to Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata has been disconnected.
Wh-whuh? You mean permanently?
Error: Referent of ¡°you¡± unknown.
I tried again with some more delicate, refined wordage.
sysadmin Connection Status: Disconnected
Attempting to reconnect in 20 seconds¡­
Uh, well¡­¡°disconnected¡± didn¡¯t mean ¡°broken beyond repair.¡± Might as well try and get used to my thoughts being more or less on my own. That¡¯d been the usual anyway. I went over my options. Couldn¡¯t I rest here in the cabin awhile? The doors seemed to be open to me anytime, after all, and Chora said she¡¯d fight for me (with a devotion which was still kind of terrifying). Plus, they had food that was already made, ripe for the eating! They had warmth and toys! Or figurines, they might call them. Collectors¡¯ items? Hopefully not including the ottoman I¡¯d destroyed (whoops)? And while I was here, I could quietly dump Reed¡¯s quilt back in her room! Then I could avoid the awkward confrontation¡­ ¡­but by the time that possibility occurred to me, I¡¯d already gone from the doorstep to the dirt. I was on my way to another adventure. So much was on my revved-up mind that when it came to remembering this inherited thing of deep sentimental value, I just skipped the track, going straight to my Experience-gaining exploration goals. When I wheeled around to turn back, my vision was filled with Chora¡¯s shoes. ¡°Safe travels,¡± Chora said with a small, reverent nod. ¡°I hope to see you again soon, and I¡¯ll be ready with your cantrip. O-oh, and please don¡¯t leave without this¡­¡± The way she squinted with those last words, I could tell she was kicking herself for not doing this part sooner. Chora reached down to her foot, pulled the cloak up a bit, and revealed an anklet of sorts. Several tiny bands of metal pearls held it in place. With almost a minute of delicate and surprisingly complicated effort, Chora unwound these chains, revealing a clasp that seemed to materialize before my eyes¡ªand almost certainly had done just that. Once it was in her palm, I could get a good look at it: a needle-thin metal ring, its rim studded with dozens of tiny crystals. The crystals were subtly milky, green and yellow and orange and luminous. Shaking off the chains of pearls like they were useless after all, pushing them backward with a heel, she kneeled and presented the ring to me. ¡°Would you like this looped through one of the chains so you can wear it?¡± she asked. ¡­I couldn¡¯t really answer that without knowing what it even did, or was. So I said nothing, just staring at the gems. I realized now that they were marbled, thunderstruck by trails of white. Chora began to explain. ¡°This is a very valuable cantrip. A single-use personal teleportation cantrip. If you activate it, it¡¯ll call on another one embedded in my flesh, bringing me to you. And I will drop everything and help you.¡± My stomach dropped. The moment she said ¡°embedded in my flesh,¡± her seriousness climbed to a new height. I wasn¡¯t prepared to bear this kind of responsibility, was I? Surely in her eyes, she was the one carrying the burden by passing on this rare or pricey artifact. Heck, she no doubt saw this sacrifice as her duty and, in a twisted devotional way, a ¡°pleasure.¡± But¡­I was just a cat, and I didn¡¯t know her. If she died because I asked her to come over and dig me out of a pit, but instead she fell in the pit and died¡­then I¡¯d have innocent, kindly blood on my hands. I had killed before, but I¡¯d never killed someone who actually liked me. Still, I gingerly touched the ring with my nose, touched it with my paw. It felt cool against my skin. I looked up at Chora, a little imploringly. I wanted to ask her, Are you sure you need to do this? But she made as little reply now as I¡¯d made to her earlier question. Alright, have it your way. I¡¯d take the ring, I just would expect to never, ever use it. I might actually prefer dying a third time to subjecting her to that kind of suffering and loss. It seemed the silence was beginning to get awkward for her. ¡°If you¡¯re thinking of wearing this ring around your leg or ankle, that might be a tough fit, but there¡¯s nothing butter and baby oil can¡¯t do¡ª¡± I just poofed it into my Inventory. ¡°Oh¡­I forgot you could do that.¡± ¡°Mrrah,¡± I said triumphantly. ¡°If it works for you, spirit, it works for me,¡± Chora said, managing a smile as she rose again. ¡°So long, then.¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. The door closed, and gently this time. For a moment I stood gazing at the cabin, feeling a wave of warmth. Suddenly I wanted to know when Reed and that other girl were coming back¡ªbecause I wanted to know this place when it was full and alive with chatter, with big meals and a raging fire. Or was it a quieter home, with separate dinners in separate rooms, everyone silent like Chora was when she was reading? Well, no chance of finding out today. The sun was shining brilliant-white, and the world awaited. Prematurely ending my run to the south had left a bitter frustration in my mouth; I didn¡¯t wanna start it again, or even look in that cardinal direction, anytime soon. Instead, I double-checked my Stats¡­
HP 100% (230/230)
SP 92% (170/185)
¡­my Inventory¡­
Inventory: 4/5
Pink Lotus Flower Reed¡¯s Quit Heidschi¡¯s Letter Chora¡¯s Crystal Ring A single-use cantrip. Calls Chora with a request to summon.
(Chora really could literally teleport to my side if I used that ring? Amazing.) ¡­and headed out. Not the same way I¡¯d come, and not with any great speed. I was just going to take it nice and easy for a while. How long of a while? Didn¡¯t know. Just long enough to calm down and get my bearings again. And there was no chance I was going right back to the lair of those who¡¯d once killed me, so, yeah, I was going eastward. *** The Rabbitfoot Plains were just like I remembered them, except that traces of the recent rain were here in puddles and dripping boughs, and a bolt of lightning had knocked a big pine tree dead. A V of geese crossed the sky, flying overhead and away. Slow breezes lapped against the hills. The fields themselves suggested a certain pace of life. A certain way of going about things. A visitor might amble around, chase rabbits and dragonflies in a restful kind of¡­ Nah, I actually felt more restless than ever. My mind wasn¡¯t letting me enter some zen state of wandering. I couldn¡¯t even convince myself to jump into the zen of hunting. I sought the clarity of a simpler, more well-defined goal. So I was going to run. Run and find more of the Map. The Kaug Mountains Chora had mentioned, those must¡¯ve been the absurdly pointy things I¡¯d glimpsed. Those things due south. You know what the opposite of south is? North. I checked the sun against the shadows, just to make doubly quadruply sure that I was headed in the right direction. Then I sped on, running full tilt, feeling like a ship in mighty currents. The bark of a gallant creature, a wild dog or bear, crossed my path. I didn¡¯t stop. I stayed fearless and focused. The farther I ran, the more the land transformed. Gradually. Splashes of new color started appearing in the grass¡ªgolden poppies, each bunch standing alone like a dropped jack. Then more, strange jumbles going whizzing past my marathon run. Orange, deep blue, magenta, black, sunflowers, daisies, floppy propellery things. Very tall, sea-green dandelions that turned out to be trees. Eventually, when I was already knee-deep in a clump of blooms, I had to slow down and look. That was because the scent was overpowering: floral with notes of honey and musk. And at some point the breezes had stopped. The world was hot, and the heat made the flower scents radiate. There was something else good in the air too¡­and somewhere I couldn¡¯t yet see. But I could stick my nose up and take a good long sniff. Berries? Wow. I must¡¯ve eaten only two hours ago, yet now my stomach was growling. Was this the power of dessert? I could nearly imagine how it tasted already. And I knew already that it was sweeter than anything I¡¯d ever liked, y-yet¡­I wanted it! The tart edge of a fine wine! The refined delicacy of petals in tea! My sense of smell was good enough to make my mouth water, but not to tell me where the food was. Now to rely on my eyes. Explosions of clashing colors¡ªof floral hues that could only be found together in a fantasy world, I guessed¡ªoverwhelmed the plains. Bare grass was outnumbered. Trees and lumps were about as frequent as before, with the occasional huge green dandelion. And maybe those trees¡ªthe new ones, the ones I hadn¡¯t even recognized as trees¡ªhad the fruit. I swiveled my head to target one in particular about thirty meters away. I wasn¡¯t sure whether that tree was the sole source of the fruit smell or not, since the smell was just that strong, and that omnipresent. But that one tree was without a doubt the heart of it. Then I scanned the land and air around it, watching for moving shapes, vermin. Was anyone else after what I wanted? Well, how could they not be? Those berries smelled so good. The smell made me imagine a rich, full, bittersweet flavor, perfectly ripe in the fruit. On second thought, watching other animals eat it was exactly what I should have wanted to see. I didn¡¯t wanna be eating poison fruit, after all. I saw a couple of little grey birds flitting toward the sea-green tree, through that perfectly spherical wall of leaves. Once inside, they disappeared behind their leafy curtain. My cue to get closer. I got low in the bluish-brown flower petals, just in case I needed the element of surprise, and stalked closer. My Speed was the slightest notch slower than I expected¡ªthe tip-off that despite hiding, I was being watched. (It hit me that my Stealth ability worked almost like an automatic, extrasensory impulse¡ªthe way your muscles tense when you know you¡¯ve been caught. Except with one hundred percent accuracy.) Someone was watching me. But who? The answer was buzzing directly into my left ear. I flinched away, and would¡¯ve yelped too if I hadn¡¯t stopped my throat just in time. It wasn¡¯t some friendly bulbous stingerless bee; it was a spindly wasp almost twice the size of the flower it was pollinating. And its carapace was black with yellow and red streaks¡ªnot rings around the body, but head-to-stinger racing stripes. I prided myself on my Intelligence Stat, just as Sierra intended, so I didn¡¯t lurch forward and eat the wasp. Instead, I heeded its warning when it buzzed again and waved its butt threateningly. I stalked on. Closer to the trunk of the dandelion tree, I saw a few burrows, as well as bunches of flowers torn out by the roots. What was going on there? Were some clever rabbits trying to hoard food for the winter? Was that even a viable strategy? Well, finding out wasn¡¯t my main goal. I paid more attention to all the deep-fuchsia splatters of berries and juice that were also clustered around this trunk. The scent was so thick now that it filled my head. Now I could say for sure that the fruit was alcoholic. That or narcotic, or sleep-inducing, or something else that struck me right now as unusually pleasant. Or maybe it was magic! I supposed that could explain why it simply didn¡¯t exist on Earth. ¡®Cept there didn¡¯t seem to be anything outwardly magical about the weird black-and-orange birch trees that also grew on Vencia, so maybe that theory was flawed. Okay, if I wanted to test that theory, it¡¯d be wise not to try eating, licking, or even touching the fruits until I got a better handle on them. If I could get a bit closer to the dandelion tree, I¡¯d have the perfect vantage point from which to either study the birds or get defecated on by the birds. Luckily, there seemed to be enough space between the dropped berries for me to tiptoe through. ¡­A suspicion prodded my mind. I lifted a paw and turned it over. The mark of the juice was dull and dry, but a mark nonetheless. I¡¯d already stepped in it¡­and if the slight throb in the back of my head was any indication, its effects were seeping through my skin. I was¡­drunk? Oh no. Please, universe, don¡¯t follow up one horrible death with a second, even less smart one. 39. Golden Hoppy Taste Drunkenness! I¡¯d only ever experienced it secondhand. Humans swaying on the streets, collapsing into cars and alleys. Sometimes hotheaded, sometimes seductive, and sometimes just excessively jokey. I never envied them! Probably because I was a semi-wild animal and I still had to defend my life at a moment¡¯s notice.
WARNING: Blood alcohol level rising. System may not function properly.
Oh geez. I really didn¡¯t need my System to tell me I was getting tipsy. Even though I¡¯d never felt it before, I had long since gotten my fill of it from pure observation. My mind was fogging up, and my senses were getting wobblier. I had to work to keep myself upright, and my brain worked double-time scanning all the magenta blotches along the ground and roots, seeing which ones were dry, which ones I could actually step on. Ugh...this was gonna su¡ª
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
WHAT? You¡¯ve never been drunk before? Come on, the animals around here aren¡¯t that strong. You can live a little.
¡­Well, now I was determined to think it sucked. I snorted and sneezed the box away. Then, with a third and more powerful snuffle, I shook my head around and pawed my face a good dozen times. If I¡¯d had water, I would¡¯ve reveled in it for once, slamming my face into the bowl of it and glugging as much as I could. Calm down, I said to myself¡ªall I had to revel in were my words. I tiptoed onto a big bare root. At least I thought it was bare, until I landed on it, but what was a bit more fruit wine on the paws at this point? Then I edged aside from the testy rabbit I found crouching there a moment too late, and¡­ Then it hit me. The second part of the one-two punch: a dazzling warmth in my core. ¡­Mmmmm. Did I say that out loud? Darnit. Actually, I couldn¡¯t get myself to care who heard that. Suddenly I felt as comfortable and snug as if I were back home. I felt so lethargic and peaceful that I could¡¯ve slipped off my feet, rolled a few meters and pretended that the everycolor flowers were my bed. So this was part of it all along, huh¡­
WARNING: Blood alcohol level rising. System has activated Safe Mode to remain partially accessible. Some features are currently unavailable.
Aw, who cared about that? It probably wasn¡¯t hiding anything I wanted anyway. Still, in my head I cried, Stats! Okay, that sounded more like ¡°stazz.¡± Didn¡¯t even know it was possible to slur words in my own mind, but moving on¡­ No, no moving on. No moving. Just sleep. After all, Sierra said this place, this fruity little nook under the dandelion tree, wasn¡¯t so dangerous. I repositioned myself on some crinkly leaves. With a big yawn and an overwhelming urge to curl up and let my warming core envelop every part of myself, I mentally said, Good night, which sounded more like, Guh-aah. ¡­Ow! Ow ow ow! ¡°MEOWWW!¡± Most sensations were hazy, but pain was not! When had this enormous cloud of vibrating, buzzing, tiny winged things gathered around me?! I desperately (and this time more lucidly) called up a few of my Stats.
HP 18% (504/0-19)
SP 09% (2/7376)
The system had to be kidding¡ªhow could ¡°safe mode¡± obscure the very info most needed to keep me safe? I was gonna have to learn a whole new kind of mathematics to figure out how close I was to death! I jumped to my feet with what had to be a hundred stings covering my body. I was now facing a swarm of¡­bees¡­yellowjackets¡­honeysuckles?¡­man, I just had this word three minutes ago. It¡¯s not a bee, it¡¯s not a hornet, it¡¯s a¡ª Ouch, the nest was right under my dirty purple feet! It wasn¡¯t leaves! It really, really wasn¡¯t! I ran out from under the great tree, crashing against roots and no doubt a few wild animals on my way, feeling all the damage I couldn¡¯t read. Then I Leaped, as soon as I remembered Leap existed. And I Leaped again, and a third time, flying, crashing, face-first into a hill and down, and then I was rolling, head over heels, covered in dirt and loud, mewling shame, and a blade of dust got in my eyes and my throat was super-dry even though I hadn¡¯t even gotten a single one of those fruits in my mouth yet. And two things were very funny about the situation. One: despite all that had just happened, and was still happening, I felt more determined than ever to see and eat that killer fruit. Except¡­y¡¯know, maybe I would take it home instead of eating it here. Two: no matter how fast and far I traveled, those hornets stuck to me. Like glue. They were not only matching my speed, but humming in my ears, loud as if coming from my drunk core itself. Stazz! Not like seeing the garbled numbers would help, but it was oddly reassuring! I meant STATS!
HP 55% (0324/1/11)
SP 85% (^5/22)
The kinda nice thing about this was, I could pretend I was a supercathuman with a four-digit HP value far above my three-digit limits who hadn¡¯t taken any damage at all. Too bad that took a lot of patience and imagination. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Okay but seriously, Guard! Things were so bad I pulled out another one. Guard! And don¡¯t glitch on me! My body flashed, and incredibly, the effects of the fruit paled in comparison to the fortitude I now felt brimming inside me. The pain of stacking the move, the way it seized a stomach that I now realized was a little too empty, made me want to vomit. (Come to think of it, there was no part of this situation that did not make me want to vomit.) A bee stinger jabbed into my neck¡ªdidn¡¯t make it. The needle didn¡¯t pierce at all. It was followed by a hundred more, all over me. Even if I couldn¡¯t see my HP right, I knew this had to be doing damage in the single digits, if that. I wanted to laugh, to gloat in sudden victory. Instead, I stood firm. This wasn¡¯t the time to laugh like a fool¡ªthat time was thirty seconds from now! Instead, I found my wits.
T7exxu03 3e*8c0ed!
9dk20 >hgw 924 ::; [ao ldwe8c0s.
I summoned my calm, ignoring the box in my eyes that I couldn¡¯t read anyway. And I brainstormed a quick plan. First, I pretended that these latest stings hurt worse than ever. Flopping solidly onto the hillside we were all having so much fun on, I yipped and groaned, writhing around like a bird in a dusty, grassy bath. A scant few hornets were killed this way, mashed down by my back, and I saw the Experience trickle in. By that, I mean I saw random symbols randomly changing. Even randomer than my HP and SP numbers.
EXP: )s5 (u&/P$)
Was my act convincing? The yellowjackets had to know that their stingers hadn¡¯t gone in this time, but they hesitated, confused, for a moment. ¡°Moment¡±: my favorite word ahead of ¡°opportunity.¡± Both perfect things to exploit. Here came the hard part: killing hornets with a one-handed Swipe. Along with the fact that I didn¡¯t know my SP¡ªI thought I had used three Leaps, but maybe it was four or even five, so what if I¡¯d severely depleted the tank? Well, I had to try my¡ª Squelch.
L^ve>/ -5!
8dumoUIOu7dmulfdsfnOLNU
POUOFUofo8fmdiofoimd;
OFmudmfdsopm;f*Fmd*f
My perception was flooded with the epitome of word vomit, a garbled box of garbo that decimated my field of vision. And almost my concentration. But I was lucid enough to know what this meant. I¡¯d just gotten my SP refueled¡ªalong with a ¡°new¡± move. Back in the saddle with Slash. With two front paws charged by the deadliest attack in my arsenal, I used the back paws to stabilize me as I attacked up and out¡ªswinging my Slash in twin arcs. The fragile insects were ripped apart. Some of the insect cloud finally scattered as their comrades fell to the ground in the form of mere scraps drizzled in weird gooey insect blood. But several actually stayed, like they wanted vengeance. Well, it wasn¡¯t like they were going to combine robot-style into a super-hornet that could all of a sudden take me out. Oop, wait¡ªwait, I forgot this world had magic¡ªyes, the five remaining wasps were grouping together in front of me and they were glowing suspiciously! Five stingers stretched into inch-long sabers and were pointed directly at my forehead. The hovering yellowjackets brought them together with a soft clank (I swear this all happened, I wasn¡¯t in a total drunken haze) and then their needles all glowed the red of termites. A super-move! Bad! But it was a super-move from some insects that, individually, couldn¡¯t even hurt me anymore. Doable! The previous Slash had petered out. I used it again, and then I went for it. We lunged at each other, but I knew I had both the reach and the Speed to win this. Augh, I spoke too soon. The split second was passing so fast. G-Guar¡ª I didn¡¯t get the move out fast enough. I took five needles to the chest, and they stuck, driven in with all their might.
HP 16% (41/258)
SP 68% (142/208)
It did so much damage¡ªso much now-legible damage¡ªthat I almost keeled over on the spot. I buckled, expecting the hornets to keep driving into me. Instead, they fell to the ground, their stingers remaining motionless in the wound. A-are they¡­
EXP: 74% (1229/1650)
Phew¡­but¡­ It still hurt. In fact, it hurt way more when I tried to delicately paw one stinger out.
HP 12% (31/258)
This didn¡¯t bode well. What if these were poisoned? I¡­was just going to assume that wasn¡¯t an option. I didn¡¯t seem to have any status conditions, according to my newly comprehensible System. Beside, the stings hadn¡¯t hurt me much so far. And what did an attack with red light mean? The red light that didn¡¯t just come from fire, that is. It meant an Attack boost, right? Poison would¡¯ve been, what, purple? Which reminded me of a certain color I had stepped in. I looked around. This hillside was facing the west of a setting sun. I¡¯d run so far away that the fruit-bearing dandelion tree was nowhere in sight. Only gaudy flowers and normal, un-fruity trees dotted this angle. In a few short steps, I reached the top of the hill. A little eastward was that tree. Though somehow it seemed to smell a bit less strongly, all that color was still distinct. And in the sunlight turned golden, it looked almost majestic. Which felt cruel, considering the trouble that very tree had just put me through. Was the tree on my Map? If not, I was determined to get it on there, by hook or by crook. Maybe I could, if it came down to it, ask Sierra to do it for me¡­
Current Location: ??? (S.D2) Note: Treasure detected and marked.
Perfect! Wait¡ªa Treasure?! No¡­no no no. Not again. Not today. Not with this Health. You see, I still had this unhealthy desire to eat that fruit. Not smell it, not barely lick its juice, but get a big hunk of it. Whatever it was. But who doesn¡¯t hate leaving one errand undone when you came to do two¡­ I glared at the tree for a quiet minute. Squinted. And then I turned away, knowing I¡¯d be back when I could come in full confidence. Until something caught my eye. Something new, and not a fruit. A rabbit was dragging something out of either a big hole at the tree¡¯s base or the tree trunk itself. I stood to watch. It was a whole sword, gleaming as golden as the sun. And it was fresh. I could tell that from here. As pristine as if a strolling knight had casually forgotten it. Let me just¡­ Just run over here for a quick minute¡­ It¡¯d be fine. I could call Chora, she could carry it. (¡­Yes, I¡¯m kidding.) 40. Stone in the Water The tipsiness was wearing off. So was the pleasant warmth in my gut. I was feeling mean as I walked down to meet the sword-wielding rabbit, mean and determined. And with wasp stingers still sticking out here and there along my body, hopefully I was looking extra-mean. (Also, ouch.) Most importantly, I was very serious about pathing. The world underneath the dandelion tree was a minefield for the sober. Even an apparently dry fuchsia mark couldn''t be trusted. All I could do was take my time and activate all my senses, paying utmost attention to my sense of smell. My ears were just as great a help. I remembered all too well the humming of that wasp''s nest I''d stepped in. This slowness made the anticipation just infuriating. I mean, a sword, a really well-made opulent sword, was dangling in front of me like a carrot on a, um, rabbit. It wasn''t that I was greedy or expecting a power surge. I was just, y''know, curious. And I wasn''t about to let the thought of a lost sword haunt me all night. The rabbits weren''t even that smart in this world. What were they gonna do with a sword? Right now, the bunny I had my eyes locked on had set the blade down and was apparently nibbling it. Now, that crossed the line. You can''t just nibble precious, intriguing artifacts. Heck, given that this was a fantasy realm with actual spirits manifesting in chapels, doing so was probably spitting in the face of multiple gods! Suddenly righteous, I found myself mere inches away from the rabbit in question. While I had been stalking my way here, I had known all along that there was no chance of me doing this with any stealth. Eyes had been on me from the start, the eyes of watchful birds and insects standing on low branches, their heads turned by every subtle shift of the ever-present flowers and shed patches of crunchy, fallen green bark. All this to say I was crouching in front of the rabbit, and they looked at me and I looked at them. I snapped a paw out and snatched the sword toward me. It didn''t move far. Bah, of course it was too heavy to take in a single move. I''d seen this coming, but with no Guard equivalent to boost my Attack¡ªwhich had to be synonymous with body strength, right?¡ªI''d had no way of doing that. Before the rabbit could turn and hiss (rabbits hiss?), I leaned forward, grabbed whatever part of the sword was closest in my mouth, and darted off.
Treasure Acquired!
Milliseconds later, I slid the blade into my Inventory, winced at the cut marks gently bleeding in the corners of my mouth, and¡ªwas tackled. Why wouldn''t this rabbit get off me?! They had no way of getting that thing back, now that it was safe in my extradimensional pocket! Nonetheless, here the rabbit was, and having toppled me and put me on my back, they were hissing full-force. Front paws pinned me against a jagged root. Their incisors even began to glow! I used Slash and punched five claws straight into their forehead. The rabbit was knocked right off. Yeah. Served them right.
EXP: 78% (1282/1650)
No time to dust myself off. And not even any Inventory space to hold the rabbit in. I really had to run now. When small fry several Levels below you still sends your HP into the red, that''s when you know you can''t stick around anymore. I would''ve gone for one of the fruits, but with all those birds and insects watching? No! I''d seen enough of those animals now to sense that they might be highly protective of them. It wasn''t worth tempting another, even larger, multispecies swarm. For today, then, I''d call it sour grapes.
HP 8% (20/258)
SP 36% (76/208)
*** Time was sinking into evening when I came back to the western edge of Rabbitfoot Plains, making my way towards the familiar cabin. Briefly, the whole field had become golden. Light reflected off poppy petals, shining on their tips like light on the edges of bowls. Then the world was deep blue and the air became thick with cricketing sounds. A trace of fog rose off the ground and was ambling through. So was I. Without even realizing it until it happened, I''d wandered my way into the zen state previously barred from me. I could relax. I had my lost Level back! It didn''t even faze me that I evidently hadn''t explored enough of the new Map space to qualify as having ¡°explored¡± it. Obviously I''d come back when I was higher-Leveled to eat some of that superweird fruit. All in due time. Meanwhile, I suddenly had this amazing weapon. Once I came to a neat patch of grass and a lull in the wind, I settled down for a moment and examined the possibly-mystical possibly-magical blade I had stumbled upon:
Debug Blade
Sword crafted by a heavenly smith and gifted to the Arkmagi themselves. When equipped, gives ATK, WIS, and base SP a random multiplier from 7 to -7; INT, however, is multiplied by 0. Gives additional bonuses when held by an Arkmagus and/or sysadmin.
Woah. This kinda ruled but it also kinda sucked. 0 Intelligence? Could I even imagine that? Would that just make certain Skills do less damage, or would it outright give me brain damage for as long as I had it equipped? How did Stats even work?! Even worse: I could get multipliers going into the negatives?! I was very quickly done being awed by the ¡°heavenly¡± part. Was I supposed to stay awed? Suddenly honoring this blade just because of its origins and pretty texture made as much sense as respecting a gross ugly rock just because it lived longer than me. Then again, at least a rock had a consistent level of usefulness. Whereas this blade¡­if I was reading this right, it only gave good bonuses to Arkmagi. Considering the fact that Sierra was not right next to me, and never had been, that seemed situationally useful at best. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. To top it all off, the sword''s name was pretty bad. Oh yeah, and I didn''t currently have arms. Arms, you know, the things you use to move a blade around when you don''t want to cut your mouth open. The things you use, because I''m assuming you''re an average human. But I was a cat. Cats don''t have arms. The only way I could have arms was if I used SP, which could just as easily be pumped into a more useful move like Slash¡­and it hadn''t escaped my notice that Slash was an absolute SP hog of a move. Well, maybe the young ladies at the cabin could use it! A sudden pang of guilt hit me. This thing was only beneficial fifty percent of the time, and even on the good fifty percent, it likely caused brain damage. I couldn''t give them such a useless piece of crap. ¡­But that mean I couldn''t test-drive the useless piece of crap myself! Man, I am an utter hypocrite sometimes. Don''t think I don''t know that. But curiosity was just assassinating me right now. I had to try this thing! Not right now. Probably with a buddy. Probably one named Reed. Or Chora. If I had a supervisor, they could just take the sword out of my hands the moment I started drooling. And maybe Chora''s spirit board could communicate my needs. Maybe. Um¡­this was getting complicated. I wished the blade were safe enough that I could just whip it out for a second and call it done. Now my head hurt! Ugh. Sierra, you want to take this off my hands? Huh?
Error: User has no hands.
Well, it didn¡¯t have to tell me twice. I packed away the blade and continued my loping path back to the cabin. And accidentally went north instead of south. Great. Time to detour around Mirror Pond. But I calmed myself. There was nothing to worry about right now. I was still on my way back to peace and safety. Anything resembling a dangerous beast was either far away, prowling and being someone else''s problem, or resting snugly, as I soon would be. But just as I passed out of foliage and into view of Mirror Pond''s glossy surface, water lit ever so delicately by distant stars, I heard a new sound rising with the mist. The chirps. After squirrels and raccoons, yet before fruit, they were old nemesis number three. The air wasn''t thick with just any old bug sounds. These were the specific, hulking, full-on monster bugs that''d knocked me over on my way to meet Reed on Eternal Embarrassment Mountain. The same bugs that''d flown all together in a cloud toward¡­something. Their migration must have been very short, because now they were here and their chatter was all around me. I crouched, paid attention to my Stealth Trait. I knew I''d have to take extra care around every mound of leaves, every hollowed-out stump. I wasn''t scared, I was just acting intelligently. Yeah¡­ What a lie. Look, by the sound of it, there were hundreds of them. Really, for all I knew, there were millions. Only gods wouldn¡¯t have been scared. I started to back up, retreating into the foliage. Way more cover than the shoreline. But I stopped partway. There was something else odd about this scene. Why was the water this bright? There was no moon and the stars were dim, yet the water was twinkling. And no, the chirps weren''t coming from some twinkly magic bugs on the water; they were coming from the air edging the pond, from high up in branches. The water''s light was gentle, not a glare but a shine, quaintly beautiful. Each droplet looked transformed in the oddest way. Like the panes of a disco ball, they looked squarish, as if the sphere had been flattened into a blanket and flipped over so the side that showed was only as bright as the moon. ¡­I shook my head, literally shaking off enchantment. Clearly some magic stuff was going on here, some spellcraft that had just tried to keep me staring. Now I knew this wasn''t just a dangerous place to be. It was just as deadly as the werewolves who''d tried to capture me, only this place ensnared with a stranger magic. I wanted to shut my eyes and immediately head back into the trees. What I actually did was close my eyes and¡­feel my body freeze up. A horrible sinking feeling. The chirping rose an octave, and with my ears alone I could sense an entire wall of insects no longer chirping but screaming. Their wings were out, adding to the din, and the buzzing hammered through my skull. Those ears, hurt as they were, were still sensitive. At the same time, I heard something land in the pond far ahead of me, around the center. Like a rock had skipped and fallen in. My eyes opened. I had no choice but to open them. The wall of chirps at the other end of the pond was hovering, shouting, and now, glowing. Their whole bodies were pulsing a deep purplish-sapphire. The same color as their¡­ Queen? That''s what she looked like. Far off on the other side of the pond, a queen in a dress of pure light stood with a kind of pride and grace that suggested she''d always been there. The train of her dress was carried well above the water by chirps. Her hand, extended as if accepting a ring or a kiss, hovered before an eager cloud of them. My eyesight wasn¡¯t keen enough to make out the look on her face, but I wished it was. All I could see on her pale head, and just barely, were eyes. Empty, devoid of light and substance. She¡¯d noticed me before I¡¯d noticed her, and I cursed myself for it. Who knew whether this woman was good or evil? Heck, I knew already that she didn¡¯t like me¡ªbecause she was friends with the chirps and I wasn¡¯t. And much like the Arkmagi, she looked like some super-rare, Level 100 bonus boss. All the more reason to either beg for mercy or get out, and I literally did not have the vocabulary to beg. I strained against my frozen body, wishing desperately that I could Leap my way back to the cabin. The sapphire queen turned to face me completely. She held up her hand, the one that wasn''t being offered to the chirps. She was¡­waving at me? What was this? ¡°Stop¡±? ¡°Hello?¡± ¡°Goodbye¡±? ¡°I have arrived at a formal event and am obligated to now greet you¡±? Maybe a¡­a warning? At least her face was clear now, and perfectly expressionless. It struck me as the coldness of a killer. Well, my body might have been frozen, but my mind wasn''t, not yet. Sierra, please tell me you know something about what''s going on.
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
I wish. I only know she''s a spirit.
I couldn''t find it in my heart to give a mocking reply. I¡¯d never read a message from her that was so¡­frank. You only know as much as I know?
Yes. For now. I''m sorry.
That did it. All I had in my heart now was fear. I began to shiver. Two edge-of-death scenarios in the span of under two days. Beyond horrible. When I landed in this world, I didn''t even have sagas to follow, old lore to consult¡ªI had to wade and puzzle my way through like a buffoon. It hit me that I wasn''t destined for bigger and better things, only destined to keep stumbling into worse.
You''re shivering.
Yes. And then she had the gall to bring out the snark in me. Yes, of course I was shivering. The apparent queen of death had immobilized me so she could prepare me for her dark ends, and now she was walking toward me along the water, ruby shoes rippling, bringing the amplifying sound of those godforsaken chirps along with her. ¡°Immobilized¡±¡­ Sigh. Thank you for the hint, Sierra. The queen had almost reached me, was lowering one hand and turning the palm toward my face. I, however, was shivering. And sheer force of will was turning that shiver into a convulsion. Within seconds, convulsion turned to real movement. I Leaped. The queen blurred. Since the Leap took me backward and turned my head away, I only caught her for less than a second. The queen had done her own leap, charging forward with both hands suddenly outstretched, with angry chirps speeding alongside her. In that moment she became a wraith, eager for my life. But I escaped¡ª Crashing right into a boulder that I swore hadn''t been there before. After that moment, all the sound was gone. The chirps were gone, the queen was gone, and all the glowing and twinkling of a ¡°magical¡± night had faded too. In fact, if not for what Sierra had told me just now, I would''ve assumed all that was just a bad dream. Nose squashed, I could only collapse on my back, thinking, Even when I win, I lose¡­ But when I opened my eyes, I revised that statement. Never mind. This is like a ninety-five percent win. I hadn''t hit a rock. I''d just hit Reed''s leg. 41. Smile of Home Wait, why was Reed out here? Sure, she wasn¡¯t scary, but I wasn¡¯t exactly ready for this! I screamed, then fainted. Fainting made me roll into the water and lily pads. I un-fainted and screamed again, flailing for my life. Hands reached in and scooped me out. My fight-or-flight brain convinced me I was back in the earlier scene of horror, confronting the fairy woman and her train of chirps. My dripping ears instinctively listened for the insect howl, but heard no chirps at all. When my eyes managed to open and turn toward the opposite bank, the queen was gone too. There was practically nothing¡ªeven the couple of frogs resting on the lily pads, thanks to my desperate flailing, had hopped away. There was just me and Reed, and the stinging cold against my wet fur. Reed set me on the ground. I didn¡¯t even bother shaking myself out¡ªI knew it wouldn¡¯t help. ¡°Sorry about that,¡± she said, chuckling nervously. She was crouching, wearing weathered jeans, brown boots dulled by travel, and a dusty tan shirt. ¡°I thought I heard something over here, and, well¡­I didn¡¯t expect to bump into you. Surprising you¡­" Her mouth twitched. Did she just stifle a smile? "It was an honest mistake. I promise I¡¯ll be more cautious around here next time!¡± It¡¯s fine, I wanted to say. ¡°Meow,¡± I told her, which amounted to the same thing. Wait, what did you think you heard? I wanted to add¡­but couldn¡¯t. ¡°Would you like to come back to the cabin with me?¡± I would¡¯ve loved to! (For that matter, since a strange spirit had just visited me and all, it was in my best interest to get away from this pond ASAP!) But there was something I officially couldn¡¯t procrastinate on any longer. My mind was already in panic mode for one reason. It was time for it to be in it for another! That¡¯s right, Taipha, I told my still-hesitant self. You can¡¯t keep putting it off! Fate has brought you together! It¡¯s now or never!! Poof! Two objects were flung dazzlingly out of my Inventory! The first was a twirling, gentle flower, wafting down to earth like a sky dancer. That was the pink lotus flower that held so much emotional weight for me. While I kind of wanted to keep it as my own memento, I was also thinking that Reed might appreciate it. Plus, more practically, she was the one with the house¡¯s worth of room, and my Inventory had like zero space. Second came the quilt that had given me so many headaches. This was the showpiece. Reed might not have noticed the gashes re-stitched to perfection by a certain Heidschi, but I certainly did. This was as close to erasing my old shame as I¡¯d come¡­is what I thought until I realized the thing had been ejected directly over Reed¡¯s head, consuming her. Also, the edges fell on the moist ground. Briefly I wondered what my subconscious was thinking when it made me do this. I mean, it would have gotten slightly wet in every possible scenario. For a few seconds, Reed just stayed there, crouched underneath the blanket. Like she had no idea what was going on. Which was probably right. Then she wrestled her way out of it with surprising franticness. While I did feel deeply sorry for the way I¡¯d de-Inventorized all of this, and it certainly wasn¡¯t making for a tender moment, watching Reed struggle her way out and eventually mash the poor quilt into a rough bundle made me wish I had a camcorder. And then her eyes welled up with tears. I was so scared. I berated myself: of course her heart is too sensitive for crap like this! You need to develop social skills already! But, rubbing her eyes with a fist, she managed, ¡°Thank you. I knew you didn¡¯t mean it that way, didn¡¯t mean to¡­steal anything. And I was correct, right? I never doubted you.¡± She sniffed. ¡°Anyway, we¡¯ve only just met, and you¡­¡± For the first time, she looked over at the designs on the quilt. My limbs seized up, in fear that she was finding the flaws. She began to rub one patch between her fingers. At first, I read the look on her face as disgust, even horror. When she spoke, I knew it was awe. Quietly, she said, ¡°That part was ragged for years.¡± Though I had no idea what she meant by that, how the quilt had looked one day compared to the next, I did feel massive relief. So she wasn¡¯t sad. She was just raw and sincere. And she was looking the quilt over with that same expression of heartbreaking appreciation. Meanwhile, I was sitting here unable to get out of my own head and stop analyzing my own reactions and thoughts. I felt extremely awkward just sitting here and taking praise. You¡¯d think that would be my pompous prideful dream, but¡­I guess I relished the idea of praise more than the getting of it. More than that, though, my instincts wanted me to run and hide. But I stayed. There. Unofficial side-quest done. Reed had her still-kinda-nasty, likely-sentimental quilt back.
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
Oh wow, good point! You should really get something for that.
What huh really?! You can¡¯t make up quests after the quest¡¯s already done!
Don¡¯t complain or you¡¯ll get nothing~
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Complete!
Quest: Give Reed Back Her Nasty Quilt
Rewards: +Bonus EXP! +1500 Gold!
IT¡¯S NOT NASTY! I thought, right after I¡¯d accidentally considered the quilt ¡°still kinda nasty.¡± Seriously, where was the gold on my Stats screens?! Where was this gold even going?!?!
Level Up!
Lv. 11 ¡ú Lv. 13
EXP: 43% (832/1950)
HP 100% (303/303)
SP 100% (248/248)
ATK 49 (+1!)
INT 33 (+2!)
DEF 35
WIS 24 (+1!)
SPD 42
Aw¡­Levelling Up felt good, but having all these Stats screens pile up between me and Reed like classroom test dividers made me feel twitchy and awkward, especially after I¡¯d just indirectly slapped her face with this quilt¡­ She didn¡¯t sound angry or even disappointed, though, oddly. ¡°You look anxious,¡± she said. ¡°And tired. Do you want me to take you back?¡± And she held out her hand, breaking through the divide. *** I didn¡¯t want Reed to carry me back. I wanted to do at least some walking under my own power¡ªI didn¡¯t want to be carried, didn¡¯t want to ever be so much of a burden again. A supernatural being like me should do better. When we got to the cabin¡¯s kitchen doorway, I was in my humanoid form. Fortunately for us and our backs, the gifts to Reed were temporarily in my Inventory. Reed herself had an arm around my shoulder, practically hoisting me upright. You have no idea how physically draining emotional turmoil can be until you¡¯ve actually passed out mid-walk. Still, there was something incredibly nice about this. It definitely felt like the world was messing with me, like one moment I was doomed and the next I was horribly lucky. Then again, things were markedly looking up. I wasn¡¯t alone anymore. In fact, I kind of had a squadron. Beyond Sierra, my eye in the sky, I had determined Chora and that wacky witch girl whose name I still didn¡¯t know. But best of all, I had Reed. Somehow, even though she wasn¡¯t anyone¡¯s god or Arkmagus, she was the figure looming largest in my mind. Perhaps only because of the way I knew her: not through a veil of religiosity, not through the veil of the System. I decided I was doing pretty well so far. Because even when I lost, I won. The green-haired girl and the blue-haired girl were in such a heated argument that they didn¡¯t even notice when Reed opened the door and walked us into the kitchen. ¡°¡­but I knew it wouldn¡¯t be a problem for you,¡± Chora said. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you just ask me first? You¡¯re always doing this, acting like your way is the right way without even¡ªconsulting anyone!¡± The witch¡¯s head, hair, and hands were shaking in wild frustration. (Not her hat, though, She wasn¡¯t wearing that right now¡ªmaybe her exaggerated motions had thrown it off.) ¡°I can¡¯t just make a cantrip in a week!¡± ¡°Yes you can. And you have.¡± ¡°Not while I¡¯m studying? Not for some random reason? Did you ever think about that part? Did you ever think?¡± It, uh, occurred to me that I was the one they were indirectly talking about, because I¡¯d requested a cantrip from Chora¡­but I supposed now that Chora had never been the cantrip maker after all. This was awkward, even more so than I¡¯d predicted. Reed rapped her knuckle on the opened door. Chora jumped with surprise, revealing how keyed-up she¡¯d really been during the argument despite her stoic face. The witch¡¯s head turned. Then my presence dawned on them. Chora¡¯s eyes darted back and forth from my head to Reed¡¯s, struggling to make the connection. The witch¡¯s face brightened with a too-huge smile. Reed walked us a few paces further in and said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry to interrupt. Well, not really, but¡­I¡¯d like to introduce you to my friend!¡­¡± Oh joy. That pause where a name would¡¯ve gone. ¡°¡­my friend who¡­who likes fighting in the woods. She¡¯d like to¡­¡± I had to save her from this stilted introduction to people who had actually already met me. But how? With a huge throat-clearing cough, I smiled, waved my clawed hand, and proudly said, ¡°Meow!¡± End of Book 1 (next chapter coming this Friday as usual : ) ) 42: Sapphire to Cyan The sapphire queen sat upon a stump, summoned up her pen, and began to write. With each scratch of the tip, the krigries rose in a chirping flutter. The more she wrote of her adventures, her victories, and her crimes, the more excited her insect servants became. The more the wind itself switched eagerly about her wrist, stirring the pages. Into these pages she poured her past, her future, and her very soul. The wind and the krigries exulted, their curiosity turned to a dance, their dance a spiral, their spiral nearly a tornado, and thunder crackled in the sky. With a lightning crash, the book¡ª
Treasure Detected!
Check your Map for the location.
Gee, thanks, System. Popping in at another opportune moment to tell me where the nearest old book is. I was currently standing in the kitchen of Reed¡¯s Cabin, getting ogled by three different girls while in nekomata form. Belatedly I realized that maybe me being naked had something to do with that ogling part. One of those girls was Reed Lastname, who still had one supportive arm around my shoulders. Another was Chora Chressen. If we hadn¡¯t met more formally earlier, I would¡¯ve assumed her glare right now was accusatory instead of just¡­her normal state of being. And the third, the witch called Firstname Lastname, was the only one who¡¯d never seen me as a catgirl before! She was smiling really, abnormally wide. Her eyes kept wandering back to my chest things. Level 13 and I still couldn¡¯t get a name for those. Big thanks, System. ¡°Another visitor!¡± said the blue witch. ¡°Can we keep this one?¡± ¡°Actually, she¡ªuh, they, she¡­¡± Reed turned to me and whispered, ¡°Do you mind me saying you¡¯re the same one who¡ª¡± ¡°They¡¯re not just any creature,¡± Chora said, arms crossing. ¡°They¡¯re a cat.¡± The witch¡¯s face fell. Uh, why were cats bad? Maybe she was allergic? I ducked my head and let my ears fall to try and express my apologies. ¡°Prove it,¡± she whispered. (Bad eyesight?) ¡°Would you mind changing forms again?¡± Chora said. Guess not¡­ I¡¯d happily do it. It would save me some SP anyway. I poofed back into my cat form and found myself sitting on the kitchen tile, flashing back to the first night I dined here. Weirdly, after hearing the word ¡°cat,¡± Reed was seeing me with new eyes too. Now she introduced me as if reciting poetry, her voice quiet and awestruck. ¡°I can see that now. The ears of a wolf, the tail of a lemur, and the eyes of an owl¡­¡± The witch said, ¡°But the colors¡ª¡± ¡°They come in every color,¡± Chora insisted. ¡°No, I mean they changed.¡± ¡°Because they¡¯re a soulbound spirit cat.¡± Nnno, I just changed colors because I¡¯d Evolved into a new form with different fur. Also, why were they treating me like some out-of-this-world chimera? And why had it taken Reed, and Chora for that matter, so long to start?! Oh. It hit me. Cats didn¡¯t exist in this world. We were just mythical creatures here, the same way chimeras would be on Earth. So it probably wouldn¡¯t be surprising to see some house chimeras running around at some point. But housecats would be impossible¡­except here in this one cabin. ¡°That¡¯s why I couldn¡¯t tell you more about the cantrip,¡± Chora said to the witch. ¡°Because it was for them. I couldn¡¯t just deny their request. You know how much bad luck we¡¯d be in for if¡ª¡± ¡°Yeah? So? Duh, I¡¯m a witch, I study bad luck.¡± Reed stepped between them and waved her arms around. ¡°People, people!¡± she said with a wobbly smile. She looked less like a referee and more like a caught criminal. I appreciated the effort, and it seemed to quell things for now. I wished I could¡¯ve done the same, but I didn¡¯t even have a piece of paper saying ¡°nice to meet you.¡± I had to watch as people introduced me, and introduced over me. Well, at least things were a bit calmer after that. The witch squatted to my level and said, ¡°I haven¡¯t properly introduced myself, Cat-Who-Might-Be-A-Spirit. Sorry about that. I¡¯m Bayce! Anatomagus in training.¡± Did she think I knew what that was? Regardless, I meowed politely. She held her fist out to me again and I gave it a respectful sniff. Then she used it to boop my nose. I bull-snorted. That was a perversion of trust. When Bayce backed away, Chora said, ¡°You know me. I¡¯ll go get the incense.¡± Like a ghost, she drifted out. ¡°Chora has some rough edges, but she doesn¡¯t mean anything by it,¡± Reed reassured. Rocking on her heels, she said, ¡°We¡¯re all one big happy family here. You can stay as long as you like!¡± Over the course of Reed¡¯s three sentences, Bayce¡¯s face went through some alarming changes. ¡°Chora¡± made it leery. ¡°One big happy family¡± made it downright angry. At the end, her cheeks reddened. I didn¡¯t know what that part meant¡ªI¡¯d seen some hairless cats in my life, but never any whose skin changed red. Reed continued, ¡°As a matter of fact, what would you like to do next, cat friend? I¡¯ll give you a few options and all you have to do is say ¡®meow¡¯ to show which you¡¯d like. Is that okay?¡± I nodded, knowing that the thing I should do was sleep while the thing I most wanted to do was check on my Map. It seemed rude to pull up my Map screen while people were talking to me, though. The System windows were bad enough when they popped up against my will. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°One meow: you can take a grand tour of this whole cabin. Again, just¡­treat it as your second home! Two: you can take a less grand tour of the available bedding and sofas and such, to see where you¡¯d like to sleep. Three: you can just¡­aah¡­¡± Reed yawned dramatically, though I could tell she¡¯d been fighting to contain it. ¡°Or you can just faceplant on that sofa in the den. We¡¯ll get blankets.¡± Blankets? Fun! Wait, how many blankets did we even need? Yeah, it was night and the skin under my fur was on the verge of goosebumping, but it was summer, indoors! ¡°Sounds like you¡¯re the one who needs to sleep,¡± Bayce said. She then looked straight at me with a glare I couldn¡¯t figure out and added, ¡°What about option four: you come with me and we have a slumber party?¡± I was still wondering about the red-cheeks thing. Initial results of poring through my databanks were inconclusive, telling me that sometimes blood rushed to people¡¯s faces when it was hot. But there was no fire in the den. It may have been warm, but it really wasn¡¯t hot in here. Unless I was only saying that because humans, unlike me, had a need to wear warming clothes. And slept in plush mountains of bed material when a cushion the texture of dirt seemed fine. Anyway, I didn¡¯t like Bayce nearly as much as Reed, but nervousness made me¡­curious. Besides, if Bayce turned out to have some ulterior motive, like if she was some secret murderer trying to kill me, I¡¯d better find out sooner rather than later. I meowed four times. Reed was a bit crestfallen. ¡°I¡¯m assuming you two are just gonna hang out?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Bayce said, unflapped, ¡°but you can come too! Oh, wait, you¡¯re falling over yourself with exhaustion.¡± ¡°Yes, but¡ª........yeah. Yeah, you¡¯re right¡­¡± She looked like she needed some reassurance. I had very low confidence in my talents in this area, but I¡¯d try. Strolling over, I noodled around her legs, walking around and through. What cats called ¡°marking humans as territory,¡± humans fortunately called ¡°affection.¡± That helped her brighten up. With a small smile, she looked down at me and said, ¡°Thank you. You have fun with Bayce! I¡¯ll have ample time to see you tomorrow. Good night, everyone.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll keep it consensual!¡± Bayce added with a hearty wave. I didn¡¯t know what she was getting at, since, if my definition of ¡°slumber party¡± was correct here, I¡¯d already consented to spending the night fairly close to her. But whatever, she seemed silly. Reed frowned at Bayce. ¡°You¡¯re making it weird. Why are you making it weird?¡± ¡°Because it¡¯s funny?¡± ¡°To someone¡­¡± Reed bent toward me for a hug. It was going to be awkward, considering the size and species difference, but I was ready for it¡­until Reed stopped, backed up a bit, and gently rubbed my head instead. Wha? ¡°Y-y-you made it too weird, Bayce,¡± she mumbled nervously as she walked away. As she went off, her footsteps echoing through the den and up a stairway, I puzzled over why she would do that when she¡¯d hugged me so freely before. Was it just because Bayce was watching? You overly self-conscious humans. Meanwhile, Bayce chuckled into her hand. *** So much stuff to think about! Strange things had been happening one after the other today, and I had a hunch it¡¯d take a good night¡¯s rest and a few slow days to truly digest it all. There was Treasure (apparently nearby, probably underneath the cabin¡¯s foundations? Yeah, I could just dig that up whenever), and I wanted to believe that it wasn¡¯t just an old used dirt book this time. There was a suspiciously fancy golden sword in my Inventory just waiting to be¡ªthrown out, probably. Or sold for more gold (¡­that I would never use). And I was a cat in a world with no cats. No wonder I¡¯d never seen bobcats or mountain lions or anything in the Vencian Wood. We were mythical spirit-beasts here, and that was what I meditated on the most. I was beyond royalty. Trophy pet of all lycanborn and devil to all wolves, I was a hybrid creature whose presence called for caution, special gems, trails of smelling-salts, and, most recently, the clouds of incense now pouring into the kitchen by way of the den and making Bayce snort. That was on top of already being a chimera-like being who could also go humanlike sometimes. I wasn¡¯t just some boredom-fueled project by a certain goddess of nekomata named after a geographical feature. Well, yeah, I was exactly that, but also, and maybe by accident, I was in the same haughty ranks as gryphons and centaurs. Bayce served me some water and a plate of rabbit meat (not as bad as a mug, not as good as a bowl), then went upstairs, apparently to tell Chora off about the incense smoke. That gave me a little bit of recovery time before she came back for me. I went through the den and up the stairs behind Bayce, and then a gray cat stood in the middle of a library where every cabinet was in mid-landslide. It was hard to believe that Bayce called this a bedroom. If a pile of rubble still has a car on it, you can¡¯t call it a street. Underneath one pile of books there was, indeed, a sad twin mattress. Along the walls were overburdened cabinets, desks, and shelves. Sloppy bulletin boards almost obscured the one window. The floor was clean-ish, in that a human could safely weave their way from door to bed to the closed closet without outright knocking over any non-floor objects. But puddles of fallen books and stacked papers spread out from the bottom of each cabinet. After a few seconds, I finally noticed the one section by the bed that was cleared of all ready-writey-stuff. Power-tool-like objects on the wall? Potter¡¯s wheel and a shiny desk? That little pocket had to be some magical artisan station. Maybe that was where Bayce made her cantrips. Then again, I also noticed, clipped to wires strung up above that area, little hazy photographs. They displayed frogs, mostly, plus a couple of turtles and a cluster of grapes. Were there grapes here? ¡°It¡¯s not my mess,¡± Bayce said as soon as we came in. The line was so fast it was automatic. ¡°Well, it is my mess. It¡¯s kinda not, because most of the papers and books are from Reed¡¯s mom, and she lived here on and off for forty years. But it kinda is, because¡±¡ªshe laughed¡ª¡°not like I¡¯m making it any better. Half of the stuff¡¯s all mine.¡± My mind wandered to the subject of Reed¡¯s mom. What happened to her? Had she abandoned her work, or just¡­ The question faded from my mind. My closed mouth and calmly waving tail gave nothing away. I looked to the window between cramped bookshelves, seeing the dark of midnight. Then I looked to Bayce, watched her body language. She was so proud to be showing me this room, yet also¡­not proud. Even though the place was messy, I could respect how much knowledge and history it held¡ªapparently, forty years of it. ¡°So, the cantrip,¡± she said, her face becoming stern and inscrutable again. ¡°Chora said you wanted one. Is that true?¡± I could not tell a lie. I nodded and meowed. ¡°Good,¡± she said. ¡°Because I¡¯m pumped to start making you some.¡± Please don¡¯t hurt me, we don¡¯t have to battle over thi¡ª Oh! Oh? She was okay with it?! She must¡¯ve sensed my surprise. ¡°Oh, yeah, I¡¯m pumped, actually. I¡¯d much rather be making something for a person or animal I kinda know than for some ¡®mysterious benefactor,¡¯¡± she said, punctuating the phrase by turning her palms in spooky circles. ¡°So! Stop me if any of what I¡¯m about to say sounds like something you don¡¯t want. Reading. Speech. Hand-eye coordination. Extended¡­human transformation¡­spell¡­ness.¡± I didn¡¯t stop her. Bayce threw her arms out and roared, ¡°If you can dream it, I can make it!! (Actually wait I dunno how to do that last one because I think nobody¡¯s made it yet!!)¡± ¡°Meow!¡± I cheered. Just hearing that I could read more and write more and do anything with the sausages at the ends of my fists made my whole body tingle with excitement! Bayce snatched a folder out from a towering folder sandwich. She swiped through until she found the right spell. Or recipe? Uh, guidelines? Whatever the term was for cantrip directions. Reading it took a pair of secretarial glasses and a lot of concentration. ¡°Hm¡­hm. Don¡¯t have that. Oh, we just ran out of that. Wait, really?¡± She snapped the folder closed and turned to me. ¡°Virtuous cat spirit from the other realms, I have some requests to make. Just to confirm, you would like to try the cantrips I¡¯ve mentioned, right?¡± Definitely. I nodded and mewed. ¡°And you like capering around the woods, it seems like?¡± Chora¡¯d been telling her stuff about me, hadn¡¯t she? So maybe they did get along, now and then. I nodded. ¡°Then do the two of us a big favor. Hunt down some ingredients.¡± 43. What If the Real Treasure is the Friend You Made Along the Way?
Reading Cantrip Ingredients:
6g gray poledust
4g silver fish scales
7g sturdy black feathers, at least one palm¡¯s length
Quest: Collect Ingredients for the Reading Cantrip
Progress: 0% (0/3)
I was now officially Bayce¡¯s errand girl. Bayce was over the moon. So was I. And apparently out there in the cosmos, Sierra was too, masterminding my Quests in that great beyond. I wasn¡¯t just Bayce¡¯s guest or weird fainting neighbor anymore. Instead, I was¡­ Earning my keep? Gainfully employed? In any case, it made me feel a new sensation of swirling warmth in my chest. Readiness, and pride. Bayce was so excited she couldn¡¯t keep still. Her hands fluttered about, churning the air, shifting papers only to put them right back again. Her voice went back and forth from serious mode to squealing with delight. ¡°Great! Yes! Okay, but are you truly ready for this? What am I saying, of course you are! You¡¯re a great spirit from, from¡ª¡± ¡°Meow,¡± I said. ¡°Yes, that. Oh, this is going to work out just fine! Stellar! (Does anyone say that anymore?) Right!¡± Finally she sat herself down in her office chair. Slapping her knees and bending forward¡ªas if convincing her whole body to stay still and stay serious now, for realsies¡ªshe intoned, ¡°So! Here¡¯s the gist of the thing: we have two easy ingredients and one hard one.¡± ¡°Meow,¡± I accepted. ¡°The first one is poledust. Do you know what that is?¡± I shook my head. ¡°It comes from the Kaugs¡ªthose are the mountains down south. You have to grind it off the rock. I don¡¯t mean anything dirty, I mean like¡±¡ªshe stuck one palm up vertically while the other hand scratched it¡ª¡°eek, eek, eek. Grate the Kaugs and it comes off. It¡¯s a whole process and if I explain it I¡¯m gonna get tired. And it¡¯s eleven at night! Too late for that.¡± I, uh, didn¡¯t understand all the social nuances of that (namely the dirtiness or non-dirtiness of grinding) but, sure! I nodded energetically both to show I got it and to show enthusiasm. ¡°That¡¯s the hard part. We¡¯ll save it for later.¡± I quirked my head. We? ¡°Can¡¯t get poledust by slapping the grate on willy-nilly. You need me to come with, and I need to mentally prepare myself if I¡¯m gonna be climbing some absurdly vertical mountains. In the meantime,¡± she said, jabbing her list of ingredients with her finger, ¡°we can do the two others. There¡¯s got to be thousands of black-winged birds around here, for starters.¡± I thought back to Murder, that condor with that ranger looking for the lost cantrip. Did he live around here? Either way, that one could practically be crossed off right now. The thing to focus on now was¡­ ¡°Fish!¡± Bayce said. ¡°Why don¡¯t you tackle that one tomorrow?¡± I brightened, and my tail wagged like a dog¡¯s. Already I was eyeing the door. ¡°Not so fast, my little friend. For one thing, I said tomorrow. You need some rest. For another, I won¡¯t let you catch just a few fish. You¡¯ll have to catch¡­a whole dinner¡¯s worth! Earn your keep, pet!¡± Yipe! The way she said that made my hair stand on end¡ªlong before I realized that the recipe said I only needed enough fish for four grams of scales. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. ¡°¡­I¡¯m just kidding,¡± Bayce said, leaning back in her chair. ¡°You¡¯re not a pet, you¡¯re a¡ªa valued visitor!¡± Huh. You know, I¡¯d assumed Bayce would be more graceful in conversation than Chora, but maybe they were both way too blunt. ¡°But I¡¯m not kidding about the ¡®dinner¡¯ part. We¡¯re running out of rabbits over here! Plus, it¡¯s not like I can buy more food. My first semester hasn¡¯t even started, but my student debts are through the roof.¡± As long as it would make the place happy¡ªand keep everyone fed, me included¡ªI¡¯d do it. Besides, there was a big glittering pot of Experience at the end of the rainbow. It was no trouble, really. I gave Bayce a big, headbanging nod. ¡°Man, I still feel guilty,¡± Bayce admitted. ¡°How about this? You¡¯ll compete against me. We¡¯ll see who can catch the most fish by two o¡¯clock tomorrow. See? I pull my weight.¡± I shot a look at her studies. Which were all over the place¡ªso I just turned to a random pile. ¡°Bah! That¡¯s for later. Summer vacation is forever!¡± Oh, Bayce. You know how much of a lie that is¡­ *** From the living room window turned toward the east, red morning light blazed in my face. So lethargic¡­just a few more minutes, please¡­ But the light was too much to bear. Even through my eyelids, even after I¡¯d nudged the covers further up my face, it still seared crimson. Fine, fine. I said it to myself as if I could tell when Sierra was listening. As my brain started to rev up again, I discovered, with a little inward groan, that my hind legs were oddly cold. Of course they would be. They were sticking out of the covers at odd angles. And those covers weren¡¯t even on top of the sofa serving as my makeshift bed. Nor was I. One leg, running up the back of the sofa, was about to cramp. Clearly it¡¯d be a while before I got used to the refined human art of sleeping neatly. Which was weird, since cats sleep in neat little meatballs. Come to think of it, I shouldn¡¯t have had limbs sticking out anywhere. My limbs were too short. And I swore I wasn¡¯t that sloppy. It happened because I was human. I gasped at the revelation¡ªgasped with my human gaspy vocal cords, with my fleshy human hand around my lippy mouth. Then, as if the whole world was pointing and laughing, I whirled upright, tossing the covers onto the living room floor. How had I transformed in the middle of the night?! The first thought that rushed into my head was, Oh no oh gosh that was so embarrassing I wonder if anyone came down here in the night, did they see? Did they see it?! The second was, I can¡¯t believe I did something so¡­blegh! And by accident! But the third made me scowl. It was simply, Sierra¡­ Who else would have the power to transform me at will? No, it wasn¡¯t my subconscious suddenly acting up in the middle of the night¡ªI¡¯d never been a sleepwalker or even a vivid dreamer, so that justification didn¡¯t hold water. Sierra, meanwhile, had forced me into nekomata form on the day I first visited the cabin. Mystery solved! And infuriating! If my Intelligence wasn¡¯t going up an extra point next Level-Up just from that revelation, I was gonna have to file a complaint. (¡­With Sierra. Darnit! Hate it when things don¡¯t work out.) Well, I poofed into a cat and that was that, or so I tried to convince myself. The attempt to soothe my psyche didn¡¯t entirely work, but I soon got distracted by how pretty and pristine the room around me looked. The familiar painting of Reed¡¯s family looked almost regal in the beams of the rising sun, and on the floor just in front of my sleeping sofa, the circular patterns of a rug practically came alive. The stillness was an illusion, I knew. Outside, birds were starting to sing, and I heard their trilling crisp and clear. Not only that, but the house itself was moving. As weird as that sentence sounded, I wasn¡¯t even entirely convinced it was some magic phenomenon unique to Vencia¡ªmaybe it was just a consequence of the house being made of so much wood. It creaked. Places even creaked when nobody was touching them, like the windowsill not far from my head. Oh yeah, and there was definite activity upstairs. I could hear it, if faintly. ¡ªOh yeah, and I had a Treasure to check up on! Now might¡¯ve been the best time, too¡ªwho knew if I would have any good opportunities to sniff it out while the entire ¡°family,¡± as Reed called it and Bayce and Chora plainly didn¡¯t agree with, was up and active. Map! Aw, that was such a tease. The Treasure I¡¯d gotten a notification for last night was sitting in space A5. In other words, it was in the absolute southwesternmost corner of the Map. Why oh why did my System feel the need to update me on a Treasure I had no chance of getting to in the span of one day? Or three, even? Plus, it was right around the location of my¡­m-my¡­I didn¡¯t even wanna think of it. My southbound journey that got interrupted by lycanborns killing me. Ugh, ugh, ugh. That very nearly spoiled the moment I heard someone call down the stairs, ¡°Good morning. Did you sleep well?¡± It was Reed, her face poking out above the banister in that tiny triangular sliver where the rail met the ceiling. A tendril of bedhead hair dropped over the rail. ¡°Meow!¡± I said, and I jumped fully upright. ¡°Oh, and don¡¯t worry about making the sofa-bed again. I¡¯ll do it! You¡¯re my guest of honor, after all.¡± O-oh, oops. Humans had house rules and stuff they wanted to keep neat. I hadn¡¯t even thought about that part¡ªI was just about to leave it like a bird¡¯s nest. And now that she¡¯d pointed out, I felt guilty! Just like Bayce would! Hm¡­on that note, Bayce and I were going out today, weren¡¯t we? It seemed like a shame to go with just the two of us. As Reed stepped onto the living room floor in her pastel pajamas and wooly pink slippers, I bounded up to her, stopped abruptly at her toes, and pointed my head toward the window. ¡°What¡¯s outside today?¡± she said. I pointed to her, then myself, then¡­I didn¡¯t bother trying to point at Bayce when she wasn¡¯t here, since that would just be Ambiguity Central, but I gave her the main gist of it. I wished I could convey to her ¡°adventure¡±! Or ¡°fun¡±! Or even just ¡°fish¡±! But if all went well, she¡¯d find that part out soon enough, eh? A smile warmed her face. ¡°Of course I¡¯ll come outside with you! But can it wait until after breakfast?¡± As soon as she said that, my empty stomach vibrated against my spine. 44. Behind Every Good Day is a Powerful Breakfast There was no separate dining room in Reed¡¯s Cabin¡ªjust a fold-out table at the exact right height for the den¡¯s two sofas. Plus lots of extra den space, in case the folded chairs hiding in the corner were ever needed. I swear to you I did everything in my power to try and get my sofa blankets folded up before the den was converted into a dining space, but¡­my human hands were a lot less coordinated than they¡¯d seemed the last time I used them. Granted, all I¡¯d really ever done with my fingers, dexterity-wise, was grab a statue out of the water one time. But now that I was trying some finer motor functions¡ªgrabbing two different corners in two different hands, then keeping my grip as I brought them together¡ªI got downright shaky. Reed saw what was happening and ordered Bayce to take over. Bayce: glamorous even in the morning. Wrapped in a body-hugging gown of spring green and sky blue, with fingernails colored to match. Had she gone to bed that way¡ªface radiant and unsmeared with saliva, a bounce in her hair, a slight sparkle in her cheeks? ¡°¡­I see you staring,¡± she told me flatly, taking blankets from my hands. ¡°It¡¯s fine, it¡¯s fair. I did it too, as you probably know.¡± Uh? Oh yeah. After the first several seconds in naked humanoid form, I¡¯d hardly noticed that¡­ I¡¯m pretty sure cats don¡¯t interpret stares the way most humans do. ¡°And now you should both stop,¡± Reed cried from the kitchen a short hall away. Bayce smirked and, uh, wriggled playfully¡ªthat¡¯s the only way I can describe it. She seemed to be thrusting her shoulders and chest balls at me. ¡°What if she wants to?¡± she fired back. ¡°I-I-I-I don¡¯t have a proper response to that, I¡¯m cooking!¡± And so she was! Sound really carried far on this first floor, because I could hear her frying away, and she could hear Bayce doing whatever chicanery I was currently witnessing. Breakfast was ready about twenty minutes later, and Reed (with Bayce as lackey) brought in a heaping platter of pancakes, aromatic bottles of syrup and spice, and bowls of fruit sprigged with herbs. With great care, she laid forks and knives and empty plates before me on one couch, Bayce on the other, and her own spot with a folding chair. She wasn¡¯t sitting next to me? Aw. I guessed that was human decorum at work. I would miss her encouraging presence next to me. But I told myself to toughen up. She could still encourage me even over the grand, unbridgeable distance of about five inches. Something else seemed missing here. Square table¡­four sides¡­three plates¡­ Pointing a paw at the empty table space filled poorly by the fireplace, then at the stairs, I said, ¡°Mah?¡± A dull second passed before Reed went ¡°oh!¡± and Bayce went ¡°nnrgh.¡± ¡°Chora doesn¡¯t have breakfast,¡± Reed explained. ¡°At least, not with us. She has her own routine.¡± ¡°Up on the roof,¡± Bayce added. ¡°She meditates and works out and stuff like that, for two hours.¡± Where¡¯d this snark even come from? Bayce¡¯s room and her status as an ¡°anatomagus in training¡± gave me the impression that she studied way more than two hours on a typical day, so what gives? (I mean, what gave?) ¡°And that¡¯s why,¡± Reed added in a singsong voice, ¡°we always save our biggest news¡ªevery event that we think everyone should know, including all the stressful things¡ªfor dinner. Breakfast is for small talk. It¡¯s also a buffet! Eat up.¡± Wow! Now it hit me that this was the first time I¡¯d ever been invited to simply eat whatever I wanted. I felt like royalty! Could cats even digest this? ¡­It would also cost me SP to have hands. Trembling hands. ¡°Oh no,¡± said Reed, watching my wide, frozen eyes. Her voice was already sulky, and heavy with that horrible human sensation called guilt. ¡°I should have remembered¡­you like rabbit stew, and I didn¡¯t serve any meat¡­¡± Before I even got my thoughts in order, Bayce did her part to cheer her up. ¡°Forgive yourself. None of us really knew. And now we do! It¡¯s not like the day is ruined, right, cat? Cat-friend?¡± The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. I meowed back with gusto. More because I wanted Reed to feel happy and proud than because I agreed, because I was still pretty hungry. But Bayce did tell me last night that the household had run out of rabbits¡­ ¡°What about eggs?¡± Bayce said. ¡°Do cats know what eggs are?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be rude, now,¡± Reed said. But a chuckle escaped her, she couldn¡¯t hide that. I¡¯d already snatched a pancake straight off the top of the cake-heap, using my paws and mouth.
Food: Plimpberry Pancake
A griddle favorite dotted with tart plimpberries. Heals a small amount of SP. May cause nausea in cats.
Nausea? That was a risk I was prepared to ta¡ªhey! A food that didn¡¯t have the standard no-healing disclaimer! One that actually had what my System considered a practical use!! Why did these, of all things, heal me? Ah, whatever, not like I was going to have any answers for the next thousand years. I¡¯d just take as many as I could. Right away I Inventory¡¯d several more, not realizing how much momentary bafflement that could cause. I had to stop myself from Inventorizing the rest of it right then and there. Bayce¡¯s eyes were already wide enough. She recovered with a giggle, while Reed stared on in what looked very much like horror. ¡­Why weren¡¯t any of us eating? De-Inventorizing one of the pancakes, letting it fall halfway on the tablecloth and halfway on a plate, and gnawing noisily on the pancake bits I¡¯d captured in my mouth, I gestured to my tablemates and to the food. It was my way of saying, ¡°Well? Isn¡¯t what I¡¯m doing okay?¡± Reed, shaking herself out of her funk, said, ¡°S-sorry. Please disappear as much food as you want¡­¡± That was a relief. I piled a few more pancakes on the Inventory stack, making sure to leave the humans two. (Wow, human politeness really was infecting me! I almost felt proud of myself for that one.) Only then did I hone in on what I was chewing. Ew. The plimpberries weren¡¯t exactly a delicacy, at least not to my cat-tongue, but at least that other one over there looked like an apple. I wasn¡¯t in the mood for anything exotic, as it turned out. The plimpberry pancakes were abruptly ejected¡ªthe way I saw it, either I would miss out on an SP boost later, or I¡¯d suffer potentially extreme stomach cramps, which, when you think about it, would probably balance out the gains by draining HP instead. Just sad. I guessed I could train myself to stifle my vomit reflexes later. Anyway, we started to eat, then to relax. No human touched the pancakes, for some reason. And Reed and Bayce started talking about what I assumed they normally talk about: plants, weather, animals. The fact that the raccoons hadn¡¯t come back in a few days. The thick maple tree just west of us that fell in a sudden storm last night and must¡¯ve been three hundred years old. It surprised me just how well I could follow the conversation. The subjects were relatable. Almost suspiciously so. Bayce spooned apple slices and herbs into her mouth, and then¡ªwith her mouth just full enough that even I found it uncouth¡ªshe spoke. ¡°It¡¯s a wonderful day for fishing~¡± she said, subtly-not-so-subtly alluding to a certain something. My ears fluttered. ¡°And I didn¡¯t even realize it until I checked my star charts!¡± Now Bayce was so excited that a bit of apple skin flew out of her mouth. ¡°Lylert is right above us¡ªI mean, obviously¡ªbut Nimio is aligned with Zobiliuss, which also happened during the crowning of King Venix back in 2484. Two, four, eight, four¡­you remember the Fisherman¡¯s Parable.¡± ¡°Right, right,¡± said Reed, nodding slowly as if in a trance. Strangely, she was invested in what Bayce was saying. ¡°Apparently I just have luck on my side, eh, cat-friend?¡± She tilted her head at me. I gulped down a pancake lump and nodded, confusedly. Reed said, ¡°Oh, that¡¯s right. They told me about an outing today.¡± ¡°Yeah! We¡¯re going fishing, wanna come?¡± ¡°Definitely! B-but if you¡¯re only fishing to replenish our food supply, you don¡¯t have to. I said I¡¯d handle it, and I still fully intend to¡ª¡± Bayce laughed her off, reached across the table, and gave her shoulder a whack of camaraderie. ¡°I¡¯m your friend, Reed, not your child! I can do stuff! And, heck, so can they, if they want.¡± And I was eager to. I meowed heartily. ¡°Then I¡¯ll fish with you,¡± said Reed, stern. ¡°It¡¯s the least I could do.¡± ¡°Come on. Rest today.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Her face got sulky. ¡°I already rest sometimes!¡± ¡°That¡¯s the problem: ¡®sometimes.¡¯ You need to be resting at least seventy-five percent of the time. It¡¯s summer vacation.¡± ¡°Only for you!¡± ¡°Meow?¡± I asked. ¡°Oh, Bayce is going to college this fall.¡± ¡°Meow meow?¡± I pointed a paw at Reed. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m just living here.¡± ¡°Meow meow?¡± I pointed a paw at the ceiling. ¡°Chora¡¯s, ehm¡­she¡¯s figuring that out.¡± ¡°Hey, cat,¡± Bayce said, ¡°you think Reed should spend the day chilling, don¡¯t you? You agree that the stars in the sky suggest that Reed¡¯s about to share some not-so-great news with us at dinner, and that if she doesn¡¯t relax now, she¡¯ll probably worry so much she¡¯ll make herself sick?¡± Woah that was a lot of words she just crammed in my mouth. Plus a lot of star stuff I didn¡¯t even pretend to understand. But I saw no reason why Reed shouldn¡¯t relax. I mean, hadn¡¯t her camping trip on Revived-Reputation Mountain been interrupted by a lost girl and a duel with an evil spirit? I meowed and nodded. Reed sighed. ¡°Fine, fine,¡± she grumbled. ¡°I¡¯ll just be your cheerleader¡­¡± Bayce squeaked. 45. Fishing Trip How did I not realize that our fishing trip would take us to Mirror Pond, where I¡¯d just been terrorized by a blue fairy and her swarm of chirping insects? As soon as she realized it, Reed¡¯s feet scuffed to a half in the grass and she said, ¡°Uh, last night I found our¡ªour friend our valued guest¡ªat the pond, and they didn¡¯t look too happy to be there. Bayce, are you sure we can¡¯t change locations?¡± ¡°Hey, cat,¡± Bayce said, swinging her head right past Reed to look at me, ¡°should we stay or go?¡± My gaze lingered on them both for a second. Along with her usual armies of bracelets and rings, Bayce had put on flip-flops and a short, light dress checkered green and white. Over her head she held a parasol casting cool blue shade. Reed dressed as if she wasn¡¯t going anywhere near the water: non-watertight boots, corduroy overalls, and a red plaid shirt. While Reed had a mud-brown tote bag over one shoulder, Bayce wasn¡¯t burdened with any of the fish-catching gear that I would¡¯ve expected her to have¡ªprobably because she had magic-y ways around that. And then there was me. Dinky little gray cat standing between them. I knew Reed had a point. Last night that pond had filled me with mortal fear. All the same, continuing on with Bayce had a point too, since last night that pond had filled me with mortal fear, meaning that confronting it again might make me stronger, meaning Experience Points, meaning Levels, meaning¡­betterness overall! ¡°Meow,¡± I said, pivoting toward Bayce. She beamed and fist-pumped. Reed smiled hesitantly. ¡°I¡¯m glad it was your decision,¡± she told me, and I knew she meant it. As we walked on, I turned toward the cabin shrinking in the distance behind the trees and noticed a figure moving on the roof. It had to be Chora wrapping up her morning exercises. What would she say when she discovered the house empty¡ªno Reed no Bayce no Taipha no nothing¡ªwithout a single word to her about it? Well, she¡¯d probably conclude that we all went on some wacky adventure, which would be right. And she might be happy to have the place so quiet and all to herself. Yeah. She seemed like that type. Catlike, one could say? It was a bit of a chilly day. The wind made it bracing even as the sun tried its best to shine hard on everyone. Clouds were patchy, not like regular cloud patches but like discrete, almost square shapes you might actually find on mended fabric. As a strand of sparrows passed by on our left, I marveled at the way that humans could walk through the woods without getting interrupted so much. Animals that would¡¯ve jumped at the chance to annoy me (namely squirrels and raccoons) saw humans and, evidently, turned the other way. Like they did when they saw my nekomata form¡­ It just confirmed what I¡¯d already figured on Earth: humans had power, but they were also kind of ridiculous. I dunno who said that lions rule the animal kingdom. Sure, an individual housecat could rule an individual human family, but¡­clearly it was humans who got to strut around and do as they pleased, humans whose mere suggestion of weapons scared off everything but bears and wolves¡ªhumans who got to eat, and live, and entertain like kings. Humans who had no idea how hard it was for us commoners to make it out here, and were, it seemed, never meant to. Those words sure make it seem like I held a grudge, but getting to know a few humans was thawing my icy attitude. Yes, I admitted it to myself at last: humans were not necessarily that bad and they could even be funny in the good way. And they made good bodyguards! Not that I needed any.
Stats
Taipha Ash Heather
Lv. 13 EXP: 43% (832/1950)
HP 100% (303/303)
SP 100% (248/248)
ATK 49
INT 33
DEF 35
WIS 24
SPD 42
I may not have gotten any spicy new moves on my last Level-Up, but as usual, the gain in Stats gave me a boost in self-confidence. At least I knew for sure that I could¡¯ve outrun these girls in my sleep. Was there any way to see their Stats, I wondered? Another aimless, answerless question for as long as I couldn¡¯t speak or write, huh? If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. As we walked, the air occasionally filled with Bayce¡¯s observations about the course of the clouds and stars above our heads. The legitimately cool thing about it was, she could point out all the stars and constellations without even having to see them! She pointed up to Lylert and traced her hand along its lines, then to Oron low in the east. I knew she wasn¡¯t faking it because she pointed with both arms, one hand gripping the other wrist, and held her arm rigorously steady, as if aligning it with the magnetism of the very planet. I was sure she could¡¯ve pointed through the earth too. We got to Mirror Pond at half the speed it would¡¯ve taken me on my own, naturally. Leisurely walks were fairly new to me¡ªif I was gonna relax, personally I¡¯d do it at a run or a trot. I wondered if Chora was a jogger¡­ Then, with a sweeping-back of oak leaves, we could see the dazzling waters, the lazy ducks bobbing at the far end, and the slowly turning lily pads. Much more serene and, uh, normal than last night. Go ahead, Bayce, make my day. ¡°Any preparations in order?¡± Bayce asked me as she snapped her parasol shut. I shook my head. ¡°Mah.¡± Reed took two rose-colored pompoms from her tote. She was really serious about this, huh? Excitement spread across her face as she said, ¡°What are the rules, exactly?¡± ¡°None,¡± said Bayce. She was striding up to the shoreline already, and I followed suit¡ªdidn¡¯t want to miss any advantage. ¡°We just catch as much as we can.¡± ¡°I figured, but¡­shouldn¡¯t you have a time limit?¡± ¡°Right, right!¡± Bayce chuckled it off. ¡°Yeah, we settled on two hours. We shouldn¡¯t try to catch fish forever with no breaks. Can¡¯t have anyone fainting.¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± Reed agreed. ¡°It is pretty hot out here, and it¡¯ll only get hotter when we get started.¡± ¡°Yep!¡± ¡°Um¡­hey, Bayce?¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°I just wanted to check that none of that last sentence was innuendo you planted on purpose. You know, just to catch me in a web of my own making.¡± Bayce, in a rare moment of apparent thoughtfulness, hummed. ¡°No, it was all you. And, if your mind also happens to be on fish jokes, I hate to inform you that those are just too crude. Even for me!¡± Before my mind could say ¡°I don¡¯t know what just happened,¡± a pompom went flying and hit Bayce in the side. ¡°Ack! Hey!¡± ¡°Somebody¡¯ll smite you for that,¡± Reed said. Even her lowered head and furrowed brows couldn¡¯t hide the smile of suppressed laughter. Well, I could certify that part, no question. I was going to smite Bayce¡­in the grand game of fishing. Maybe fish lent themselves to ¡°crude jokes¡± because humans who fished for a living were often poor. Did poverty exist in this world? Sad! Anyway, it was about noon, so Bayce decided that we¡¯d start at the top of the hour, when the sun was directly overhead. We trusted that she¡¯d be the master of sun-tracking, of course, so we allowed for a long, meditative pause of total silence as she stared straight up into the sky and somehow didn¡¯t blaze her eyes out, with me on the bank sitting about twenty meters away and Bayce at the tip of a little natural jetty of dirt and tall grass. Reed stood behind and between us, armed not only with pompoms but with an hourglass to tip once we started. Hopefully she wouldn¡¯t knock it over with the force of her cheerleading seconds later. Hm. I gave Bayce a long, unashamed look all over. Not at her body necessarily (when she¡¯d held me way-too-close, I saw all I was prepared to see of that), but with an eye toward her strategies. Was she going to catch fish with her bare hands? Most likely not, but¡­she could, couldn¡¯t she? Besides her anatomy magic (if my guess there was correct), I¡¯d experienced her gravity-pull stuff firsthand. Ugh, if she tried to use that to claim my fish¡­ Well, I trusted Reed as a referee. She seemed like a fair, unbiased judge. Wait, no, she was the opposite of that. But even if she wasn¡¯t unbiased, she was at least a friend to us both, so she was doubly biased toward both of us and it canceled itself out. Like a firecracker in a desert sea, Bayce¡¯s voice rang out all of a sudden: ¡°Go!¡± Not even waiting to see what she would do, I Leaped straight into the water! Augh! Blegh¡ªgah! Water went straight into all my head cavities. Worse, so did a couple of tiny fish. I coughed and sputtered as I paddled and tried to get upright. I couldn¡¯t see anything. Murk, all murk. Muddy greenish-yellows and dark teals swirled around me. I knew I¡¯d just crashed into the sand at the bottom of the pond and stirred up everything. Not an amazing start. But the clouds of sediment eventually fell, and my vision cleared up. Yes, there were definitely fish all around me, and while most had scattered far out of my Swiping range, they (or their more gullible neighbors) would be back. ¡­I was not a crocodile. In my excitement to get a running start over Bayce, I had totally forgotten cat hunting fundamentals. Paw the surface like a bear, don¡¯t dive in like an otter! And don¡¯t think you can just hang out underwater with the lungs of a patient crocodile! As a consolation for myself, I did snag one of the tiny fish that swam up into my nostril just as it was coming out. Score one. Nice.
EXP: 43% (840/1950)
And like 5 Experience Points. 46. A Battle of Wills (and Wits and Wets) Before I surfaced from my ill-fated jump into Mirror Pond, I took a quick turnaround to the rocks just under the bank. There were lots of jagged crannies here, some filled with moss and trailing algae, others hiding shells. I shoved my paw into the only one it could fit inside and managed to scrape out some sort of clam. Or was it just a rock? My Inventory would hold the answer.
Nasty Rock
An ordinary riverbed rock. Slightly resembles a clam, but most people readily know the difference.
Thanks. Yeah. I appreciate it. With a gasp, I flung both the rock and my head out of the water. Then I swiveled my head around, submarine-wise. Mostly I saw animals, but there to my left, fresh and several times the height of the average animal, was Bayce. I guessed her parasol had turned into that fishing pole she was currently kneeling next to. Bet she thought she was so cool with that transforming pole-umbrella thing¡­ Not far behind her, I saw something bizarre. Reed was dancing quietly and energetically. Her arms pumped, sending pompom blurs everywhere. Only I was watching her. Thirty seconds ago she was being watched by no one. I paddled to the shore, relieved that Bayce evidently hadn¡¯t caught me in the act of immediate failure. She was still staring into the water¡¯s surface, and I wondered how much she could actually see. I mean, she didn¡¯t even have on her glasses. Then I decided I¡¯d swing around and get further out. That way, not only could I hide in the trees¡ªto preserve my secrets and not to hide my shame, you understand¡ªI could also surprise a fresher batch of fish, one that I hadn¡¯t totally failed on. So I walked into the shade, waggled myself a little drier, and prepared my paws. Then¡ªa shadow, darting through the water! Go for it! I shouted to myself. Splish! I caught the fish. Were its scales silver? I had no idea for the first few seconds, since it was wriggling with all its might. It was thick, even muscular, flinging not only water but also stringy algae with every twist of its head and backfin. Saltwater stung my eyes, so I squeezed them shut as I grabbed hard, roar-meowed, and jabbed through the scales with my claws. Then the fish slowed down. It was just another koi. I say ¡°just,¡± but the creature was beautiful, with a pattern of orange and gold that reminded me of autumn leaves.
EXP: 62% (1207/1950)
Hey! That Experience yield wasn¡¯t bad for a creature I could defeat without having to use Skills. It had been worth the struggle and the resulting fatigue. Poof. Into Inventory the fish¡¯s body went, but not without a decent fight. Watching and pouncing! That was the way to go. Pretty soon I had a rhythm going. Wait, watch, strike. Usually I used my paws alone, but sometimes the fish was bigger and I knew I¡¯d have to add a Swipe to reinforce my attack. Slash remained in my arsenal, pristine and unused. I started feeling superstitious about it. What if that ¡°high chance for critical¡± mangled the meat? I didn¡¯t wanna risk that, especially when I knew I didn¡¯t have to¡ªthe fish here were pretty easy pickings. Not all the fish were koi. I got plenty of those coveted silver-scaled fish, too. Catfish streaked gray and purple, and tiny sardiney-looking things that must¡¯ve been the same species that¡¯d flown into my mouth earlier¡­ It was thrilling! Even if the fish weren¡¯t individually strong, it was a workout all the same. And it took more dexterity and movement than you might imagine. Grab the fish wrong and it effortlessly swims free¡­grab it just right and it can still slip past or jump. And when it somersaults so hard it backslaps you in the jaw, that¡¯s a pretty sad place to be in. Quite a while passed before I finally took a deep breath and backed away from my perch. My mind and body told me wordlessly that it was time for a break. (Was that part of Wisdom?) If anyone had asked how I was doing, and if I could¡¯ve said much more than ¡°meow,¡± I would¡¯ve said ¡°fine.¡± Yet my chest was heaving, my blood felt hot, and a lingering salt-sting pulsed at the corners of my eyes. I examined myself physically and Stat-ally:
EXP: 42% (877/2100)
SP 74% (200/270)
Inventory: 5/5
Chora¡¯s Crystal Ring Debug Blade Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Koi Corpse x5 Nourishing, but won¡¯t heal HP or SP. Metefry Corpse x9 Nourishing, but won¡¯t heal HP or SP. Catfish Corpse x8 Nourishing, but won¡¯t heal HP or SP.
Meanwhile, I also had four tiny metefry on the ground by my feet. Still, at least I had just a bit more Inventory space because I¡¯d stashed Heidschi¡¯s letter underneath the rug back at the cabin. Not that that was the best place for it, but, y¡¯know, it was a place. So that was thirteen metefry, plus five, plus eight. Was that a lot? I had no clue. It felt like a lot. Especially because I¡¯d just fished right through a Level-Up.
ATK 52
INT 35
DEF 37
WIS 26
SPD 46
Though I kicked myself for not knowing exactly which Stats had gone up in the transition, somehow I thought Wisdom had inched up just a bit extra. If so, good¡ªthat was always the one I was most eager to train. Even a Swipe took a lot out of me, and the more my SP could inch just ahead of my Skill needs, the better. Anyway, yeah. The number of fish was big too. It had to be more than a human could get by fishing with a pole. A net, that¡¯s one thing, but a single line with a single hook and bait? That¡¯s pitiful! A single line with a single magic spell at the end of it, though¡­ Oh¡­ohhh¡­if Bayce was doing that, suddenly I wasn¡¯t sure if I¡¯d forgive her for it. I mean, you know me. You know I didn¡¯t even use Skills today¡­well, not too often. But imagine if that witch lady had charmed her bait, or something, and was enjoying a huge advantage already! Unfair, right?! Whatever. I¡¯d do my thing and she¡¯d do hers. Then Reed would be the supremely partial-to-both-of-us judge. The best thing I could do was tend to my own business and keep on keeping on. Aw, no. Now the thought was in my mind and it couldn¡¯t get it out. I had to see what Bayce was doing. But this problem (that I¡¯d made up entirely on my own) naturally led to another: How the heck was I supposed to do that? Uhhhh. First I got a little closer on land. I slinked along the coast, keeping close to the trees. Reed stopped dancing and watched my every step, shadowed though I was. Bayce kept her eyes to the water, seemingly meditative. As I walked up to the coastline again, I was almost at Reed¡¯s feet. It couldn¡¯t really be avoided, since I wanted to get as close as I could without tipping Bayce off, and Bayce¡¯s attention was probably the only attention that really mattered, contest-wise. Reed squinted her eyes and quirked her mouth at me, as if to say, ¡°Are you sure about this?¡± And I gave her a half nod and some lowered eyelids. Then I spat up the four metefry I couldn¡¯t hold in my Inventory. Those could wait by her feet for now. I could only imagine the confusion on Reed¡¯s face as I walked on without even pausing. Then I¡ªdeep breath¡ªwas facing the water. It was never easy to cannonball in, yet that was what I did every single time. Walking in, though¡­that sounded nicer in theory, but it meant a whole different kind of unpleasantness. Fast torture versus slow torture. Putting one foot in front of the other¡­one leg, one soggy soggy leg, followed by the rest of my poor cold body¡­I entered. Walking into the pond made it so much harder to work up the courage to open my eyes. Now I felt the salt in full, and the temperature change on my face was even making me nauseous. (Or maybe that was just breakfast catching up with me.) Brr¡­urgh¡­okay. I was in. It curdled my insides, but I had made it. And there was no time to waste! Cats could only hold so much breath, after all. While I couldn¡¯t see anything in the immediate area besides normal, sandy water-fog, I knew that Bayce¡¯s strategy was probably at work several meters away. Technically, it could be at work anywhere from a meter to a mile further out. So I set my feet firmly on the underwater surface, to start. Then I backed my back legs up against the most wall-like part of it. Like a pro swimmer, I folded my legs, folded my whole body up against that wall, and¡­ Leap! White light, furious bubbles and an explosive, conspicuous splash Mach-boomed behind me as I streamed through the water. Amazing! I¡¯d never dreamed of going this fast in a pond¡ªand rather than running at top speed, it felt more like flying, and this was as much like a meteor as I was likely to be in my life. The white magical flares sparking off of me weren¡¯t dulled at all by the water, and that only increased my wanderlust. My body wasn¡¯t complaining about the damp anymore, but my lungs were, and my throat contracted as tightly as a fist. Didn¡¯t need Wisdom to know that I needed more air. You¡¯ll live for a few moments longer, Taipha, I told myself. Harder things had been done in the name of survival for millennia! (It¡¯s not like saying that ever helps, yet animals do it subconsciously anyway.) When the Leap wore off and I touched pond bottom again in a sandy cloud, I saw a dim, ropey, very suspicious shape half a Leap ahead of me. It curved like a fishing line might. Hmm, wonder what that could imply¡­ In order to get close enough to make out what that silhouette really was, though, I¡¯d either need to sprint my heart out or use another half a Leap. Nobody is running underwater, not even magically, and I had no clue if a half Leap was even possible. Circumstances left me no choice!! Half Leap! Uh, nothing happened that time so Leap! (With-a-great-effort-to-do-it-only-halfway!) My powers weren¡¯t a faucet¡ªI couldn¡¯t just let a decimal point¡¯s worth trickle out. Nor could I figure out how to diffuse the extra energy. The answer wasn¡¯t ¡°underwater on a second¡¯s worth of breath,¡± anyway. After the big spring and burst of pure power, I let my hind legs go slack, hoping that would be enough to slow me down. It wasn¡¯t. Next idea was to aim myself downward. Nope. Too little too late. I barreled into Bayce¡¯s line, bouncing off with a hard impact. Actually, I¡¯d hit a fish. No, a cluster of them. Fish after fish was on Bayce¡¯s line¡ªno wonder it¡¯d looked like a string heavy with weirdly shaped banners at a distance. Other than shifting upon impact after a resounding watery thud, the fish had no reaction to me at all. Just like Bayce up above, they seemed to be in a trance. Bayce, you little stinker. 47. Something Catty These fish clearly weren¡¯t all clamping down on the same line. Fortunately, they weren¡¯t cannibalizing each other¡¯s tails, either. They appeared to be simply¡­tapping each other¡¯s backfins lightly with their fish lips, in several huge conga lines. Weird, but not unpardonable. Except in the context of fair play. I was learning this all in the span of a second. When the dots had all connected for me, I knew I couldn¡¯t let the witch¡¯s plan go un-ruined. I let loose my wrath. Slash. My front paws grew flaming hot. Literally¡ªa fire trailed through them, undiminished by the pond. I could feel the flames trailing into my very wrists, my shoulders, even weakly into my bloodstream. It was as uncomfortable as it was empowering. But I knew that the strongest part was my claws. They glowed red with a furious charge, and couldn¡¯t have been hotter if they¡¯d been taken out of a blacksmith¡¯s kiln. And yet, I wasn¡¯t advanced enough to have thought all of these things coherently in the brief moment I had to use Slash. If anything, I just thought, ¡°Orangish-red, maybe hotter than usual¡ªcool.¡± Then I bore down on the koi in front of me. The claws tore through, obliterating the fish as easily as an eraser destroys pencil. ¡°Eraser¡± is the word. Solid, thick chunks of the fish seemed to be torn out from reality. I almost wouldn¡¯t have believed the sight¡ªbut the bloody fog billowing from the body afterward told the truth. That claw, unlike my crash earlier, had sent a huge shockwave through the line, both ways. It rattled before my Level 14 might¡­all while I hovered in the water and coughed and stared wide-eyed and had no clue what I was doing. Clearly I had just scored a critical. Get out of here, Taipha, said a tiny voice in the back of my skull. I kept hovering there. Taipha¡­ I coughed and took in water. SURFACE SURFACE SURFACE! Next thing I knew, I was gasping for air above choppy waves in the middle of a bigger commotion than I¡¯d ever expected. Ducks honked and flew away in clumps, and Reed was screaming things I couldn¡¯t make out, all while Bayce¡­ She was standing, huffing, no doubt baffled by the confusion I¡¯d sent up her line. She was directly in front of me, along with the remains of her trail of cheater-fish, which were scattering in the water and, as they came back to their senses, darting away. Her fishing pole was gone, and all I saw on her expression was¡ªnot anger, not shame, but worry. Oh geez. I-I didn¡¯t¡­ All I¡¯d wanted to do was hurt Bayce¡¯s little feelings! In my distress, and my craving for big gulps of life-giving air, it took a while for me to notice that Bayce wasn¡¯t looking anywhere near the fishes, but at a point beyond them and beyond me, around the center of the pond. Was she in a daze of distress? Okay, this could all be solved in like a minute¡ªI¡¯d just swim up to the shore and convince her, with a series of charades, that it was all a mistake and a misunderstanding and nothing would come out and harm us¡ª Something roared, and the roar shook the water into a near-tsunami. Grgh! How could I have known that landing a crit would send yet another superdeadly legendary creature jumping in and ruining things?! I seemed to have forgotten this was the wacky fantastical Vencian Wood and the exact same pond where I¡¯d just seen a mystery spirit lady who¡¯d ambiguously threatened me. I must¡¯ve had some incredibly unlucky stars today. Whatever was in the water behind me, it had to have been the third¡­possibly sixth legendary beast I¡¯d encountered within approximately seventy-two hours.
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
Taking into account your birthdate, birth location, and the birthplace of your father, yes, your ruling constellation is in a particularly dicey spot and will stay there until sundown.
¡­I couldn¡¯t even bring myself to comment.
Thinking about how deeply you wish not to comment is, in itself, a comment! Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Anyway, I feel I should end your confusion here and say that¡¯s not a legend over there, it¡¯s just a really terrifyingly huge and powerful carp.
Thanks. Give me back my eyes I need them! Predictably, that last line just made Sierra pop up even more text boxes all around the main one, obscuring my entire vision.
Moving around without eyesight is a valuable skill, Taipha!
So is becoming human when you least expect to.
Don¡¯t test me!
Go big or go home!
WAAAAH¡ª I got myself back to shore as fast as I could. Honestly, that was easy enough, since I¡¯d been looking toward it just before Sierra capriciously called, and I was fueled with enough terror to not take all day. I pulled myself onto the jetty where Bayce was standing and sifting through her bracelets the way Earth humans would fumble through scores of keys. She was relieved to see me, despite my expectations. ¡°Get back,¡± she told me. ¡°I can take this.¡± ¡°And me,¡± Reed cried, not far behind us. I heard her snatching something either out of thin air or from her tote. I hoped it was something huge and dangerous. I did back up, but only a couple of steps. They didn¡¯t have to be my actual bodyguards, and I would prove myself if it came to that. What rose from the center of Mirror Pond at first looked so flat and massive that it could¡¯ve been an island, its back brown and red and warty and cracked with old, damaged scales. Sand, grime, and small waterfalls dripped from its rising sides, which sent torrents of water sloshing over two edges of the pond, drenching half the trees but sparing us. Finally, the face of the carp revealed itself, eyes fierce red, mouth seeming to snarl. It was so big and close that it filled my field of view. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have tried anything big here,¡± Bayce said, her words rapid-fire. ¡°Maow!¡± I cried. ¡°What are you wailing for?¡± Her face twitched with realization. ¡°Oh, now, don¡¯t beat yourself up for anything, you¡¯re new here! Besides, you didn¡¯t do anything, it was my Spell that¡ª¡± ¡°RRRUUOOOOOAH!¡± Either milliseconds were passing like centuries, or Reed and Bayce were fumbling about while I seemed to be the only one staring down our foe. I considered activating another Slash, remembering how powerful it¡¯d been the first time¡­but if I did that, I wouldn¡¯t have enough SP to Leap and quickly bridge the watery gap. All this ran through my mind as I stepped closer to the brink of the jetty. ¡°No! Stay back!¡± Reed cried. At the same time, Bayce flicked off one of her bracelets¡ªI could tell by the jingle and the burst of wind. Along with the siren-loud, strangely car-like ¡°HONK!¡± The carp¡¯s eyes squeezed shut. Instead of charging us for this annoying sound splurted right in its face, though, the carp shivered and made a heaving sound like a sigh. Then it began to sink. The monumental creature was dipping back into the pond with a huge but tranquil sloosh. Soon the pond was perfectly empty, sparkling and ready to welcome its animals again. Glad I didn¡¯t jump and try for a kill, I turned to Bayce with a look of not worry, not shame, but disappointment mixed with gratitude. Which is an odd mix. Bayce kneeled to my level and said, ¡°You alright?¡± ¡°Meow.¡± ¡°Do you mind if I give you rubbies?¡± ¡­ ¡°Rub-rubs?¡± ..... ¡°That¡¯s what I call it when I rub animals affectionately?¡± Reed interrupted, squatting right behind us. Her sword was at her hip, unused (aw¡­) right next to dangling pompoms. ¡°Bayce, I think she¡¯ll answer you when she¡¯s less frazzled.¡± ¡°Right¡­ I¡¯m frazzled too. I think the Geographic Carp sensed that I was catching too many of its brethren. Which is fair!¡± Bayce cried in a burst of sudden self-conscious nerves. ¡°It¡¯s true, I was using magic to catch a whole chain of catfish.¡± Reed gasped soundlessly. ¡°But you know¡ª¡± ¡°Hey, I thought that since no humans had come this way in a while, it¡¯d work out.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have any way of knowing that.¡± ¡°Except¡­¡± Bayce pointed to the invisible stars. ¡°But yeah. If the carp could speak my language, I¡¯d¡¯ve said I was sorry.¡± I started to feel sorry too. The huge fish seemed to have come straight out of the dirt, as if it¡¯d been a rising continent. Without my Slash startling the Geographic Carp, it might never have left whatever deep slumber it¡¯d been submerged in. Bayce knew the mood had gone sour, so she dispelled it with a laugh. ¡°Guess that means I caught nothing! I¡¯ll try again later this week¡ªat a totally different body of water¡ªwithout going overboard.¡± I replied with a low meow-purr that I hoped passed for a grumble. ¡°Don¡¯t be so bitter or whatever!¡± Bayce added. Her spirits were still high¡ªclearly there were no hard feelings on her end¡ªbut I felt like the day had been broken in half. ¡°Aww,¡± she said, clearly picking up on my body language enough to tell. ¡°Please don¡¯t worry about it. This is my fault. I have nothing, and that means I caught nothing. You¡¯re the winner, fair and square, emphasis on the ¡®fair.¡¯ And you don¡¯t even have to cook.¡± ¡°Yep! That¡¯s up to me,¡± Reed said. ¡°And me,¡± said Bayce. ¡°Um¡­you¡¯re my guest too, and you have to study.¡± Bayce furrowed her brows. ¡°Yeah, but you¡¯re, like, resting?¡± Those two could settle that on their own.
Quest: Collect Ingredients for the Reading Cantrip
Progress: 33% (1/3)
48. An Exercise in Incense The sun was inching toward the west, but for now the sky remained blue. A robin, perhaps searching for food for their young, preened their feathers a moment and then took off. Winging through the trees, swerving around a sharp briar, they eventually broke free from the woods and made it into a sort of clearing, a place of open air that was still short and humble compared to the oak trees all around. Sadly, it was the worst decision of their life, because I was on that roof, and I was ready to spring for my prey. With a Leap, I caught them mid-flight. They had just been arcing upward to try and escape me, but it was no use¡ªwe tumbled together onto Chora¡¯s foamy exercise mat. But the battle wasn¡¯t over yet. We fought like a whirlwind or a cartoon Tasmanian devil, even plucking at each others¡¯ hair and feathers. I clonked my head against the wooden roof-slash-floor. The bird shrieked as I revenge-clonked them against a dumbbell. It was all so reminiscent of Earth that I hadn¡¯t even remembered the existence of my other Skills¡­and maybe that would be the worst decision of my life, because the robin used one first. A burst of orange-pink light cut across my vision, and before I knew what¡¯d happened, a searing wound bit into my shoulder and side. My brain put it together for me: triangular energy shape + triangular-ish wound = probably a beak attack. I would call it¡­¡°Peck.¡±
HP 82% (266/325)
SP 27% (74/270)
Okay, time to get serious. Without another thought, I knew I had to activate Slash and feel that bright, almost bloodthirsty surge of power. That was what I¡¯d been missing during my outing with Reed and Bayce today: bloodthirstiness. Most humans didn¡¯t consider themselves murderous even in Vencia, I guessed. And my current companions were downright peacemakers. It was actually shocking, in hindsight. I mean, the streets of my old home were dotted with roadkill. Things on Earth might¡¯ve been different, obviously, if the roadkill in question weren¡¯t tiny opossums and rabbits but more like elephant-sized monster carp, though¡­but you get my point, I think. Yes, I¡¯d gone hunting today. No, I wasn¡¯t satisfied. In the end, I slayed the robin with a dramatic Slash. Actually, all I had to do was activate the Skill¡ªmy paw was positioned so that simply switching it on sent a bolt of energy through. If that wasn¡¯t cool, I didn¡¯t know what was.
EXP: 61% (1286/2100)
HP 55% (178/325)
SP 46% (124/270)
In the wake of the tussle, a few brownish-black feathers wafted in the air and settled across the wood, calling to mind Step Two of Bayce¡¯s cantrip instructions. First the scales, third the dust from the southern mountains¡­and in between, the black feathers. Did these count? Even a little? I gathered them anyway. The mini-journey to do that took me all around the roof platform, which was a rectangular platform next to the actual, sloping, roof-shaped roof (but calling it the roof is more convenient). It connected directly to Chora¡¯s room via a hatch in her bedroom¡¯s ceiling. To one side were her exercise mat, her weightlifting gear stacked neatly on a metal shelf, and even a little table with a tea kettle and set of simple porcelain cups. On the other side was a lot of empty space, but also a couple of rocking chairs. They¡¯d fallen over, for some reason, a reason that had nothing to do with the fight I¡¯d just had¡­nope, it sure didn¡¯t¡­and if Chora saw that, she certainly would not think back with rage to the time I ripped up her ottoman. My reputation was so secure. Without getting too grisly, I tore a fair amount of robin feathers off from the corpse before getting too tired and bored. I also ate one. I wasn¡¯t sure why¡ªit was nourishing, but it didn¡¯t heal HP or SP.
Inventory: 5/5
Chora¡¯s Crystal Ring Debug Blade Robin¡¯s Feather x9 A normal, dark-brown feather. Certifiably not black. Robin¡¯s Feather x3 A normal, dark-brown feather. Certifiably not black. Robin Corpse Nourishing, but won¡¯t heal HP or SP.
Rrgh. Rubbing up against the upper limit of my Inventory again, both in terms of item capacity and individual slot capacity. I¡¯d only be keeping these feathers around until Bayce let me know whether any of them worked, judging with her human eyes, rather than these no doubt error-prone System eyes. Until then, they¡¯d just be eating space. Hm, wait¡­I could easily get someone to store my items. I did trust them that much. Plus, their den rug was already my bank vault, holding Heidschi¡¯s letter perhaps in perpetuity. Even though my items were cramped and my HP and SP were perhaps not the most beautiful, this battle had plucked up my spirits. In fact, nabbing that robin had made me determined to have a more actiony outing tomorrow. And if Reed and Bayce were kind of, well, babies about murder and death, then maybe the only person I could turn to was¡­ Opening the hatch right now! Chora¡¯s head poked out from her bright bedroom. I practically wagged my tail at the sight of her. When she saw me, her stoic face fell the slightest bit. Ah, I was standing in front of the still-knocked-over rocking chairs. Why couldn¡¯t she believe that the wind had done that? She swallowed her frustration by saying, ¡°If you do not see fit to follow human norms of neatness and order, then who are we to judge¡­but, and I¡¯m just putting it out there, the fact that you do turn into a humanoid sometimes gives us a different impression.¡± Darn, the guilt¡­it got to me. I transformed in the blink of an eye and took hold of a chair. Fully aware that I was handling the thing like a not-so-professional wrestler botching a suplex, I did, nonetheless, get it upright again. Then I did the same to the other one, even clumsilier. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Then I spun on my heel and put on my winningest smile. Chora didn¡¯t look impressed¡­or unimpressed, either. May have been a good sign. ¡°Not bad,¡± she said. ¡°I can put them back in position later.¡± Passive-aggression! I felt my face go pale. Now I could see that the chairs were sitting at angles that any human would find totally unacceptable. One was an inch away from falling off the roof, one was on the edge and facing outward¡ªand one was so far from its starting position that it flattened the corner of Chora¡¯s mat. With a cat-bark, I ran, grabbed that chair, and marched it over to¡­to approximately kind of where it was at first, I hoped. ¡°It¡¯s alright, cat spirit. Would you like anything from me? Tea? Votive candles?¡± Since her hatch had been open for a little while now, the smells I recalled from that earlier visit with her, when she¡¯d first donned that overdramatic monk¡¯s hood, wafted back to me now. I did have a request, and I was determined to make it a good one. That is, if the laws of the universe (AKA Sierra) would let me enact it.
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
Oh, please. You¡¯re so overdramatic sometimes. Have you even tried speaking since the first time you Evolved?
What? No! Why would I risk that kind of failure again? Especially with a speaking cantrip in my future?
Because some risks are worth it.
Well¡­in fairness, I did happen to be in my catgirl form right now, and Chora would be¡­not kind, exactly, but forgiving of any weird mistakes. So I decided to struggle out a word or two. ¡°Uh¡­ah.....I-I¡­h-h-hi.¡± In response, Chora blinked. I waved a little. Oh geez, wait. It was kind of late in the meeting to be saying a greeting, right, I got it. ¡°Su¡­sssaaaaaurgh.¡± ¡°I accept your apology.¡± She looked away for a moment. ¡°You¡­have a beautiful voice, cat spirit. I enjoy basking in it.¡± Aw, she didn¡¯t really mean that. I refused to accept it. I bet she¡¯d searched her archives for a pre-prepared compliment as a means of drawing me out, of getting me to speak my needs more. Kinda like Sierra¡­
It¡¯s as if we have your best interests at heart.
Blegh! Blegh!! So corny!!! (And from her, of all people!) Plainly ¡°hi¡± and ¡°sorry¡± had never been the long questions or requests I wanted to make, but the stress of having to speak had made everything coherent slip out of my mind, along with the effort. At least Chora got the message okay enough. Enough human stuff for now. I poofed back into cat form, then got into serious pantomime mode. With my paws, I drew a rectangle on the floor. Then I put both paws together and moved them herkily-jerkily around the rectangle. ¡°You want to talk with the spirit board,¡± she confirmed. I nodded. It was good to be surrounded by people who no doubt had higher Intelligence Stats than me. (Well¡­I wasn¡¯t sure about Bayce sometimes, but hey, school had to be good for something.) She ducked back into her room, and I followed. Seeing the ladder stretching down gave me a brief shock. I stepped down rung by rung with care. The ladder was only at a slight angle, with wide enough gaps between rungs that it probably wasn¡¯t work-safe, and I felt as stretched as a sausage with every step. Then the hatch was closed, with late-day sunlight still beaming in. Chora¡¯s room seemed to combine both of the times I¡¯d been here before: the scorchingly bright white walls and decorations, and the aromas of the holy and the dead. Opening her closet, Chora shifted and soon brought out the familiar board and glass triangle. Then we were sitting face-to-face, just like old times¡­I mean, old time, singular. We both knew the routine. Chora asked me what I wanted as a prelude, but it was a mere exalted formality. I slowed down my breathing, set my paws on the glass, and it began. Please, Sierra, give us a question that applies to what I actually want¡­ Shift, shift, shift. Then a pause. The first question was over, and Chora¡¯s hand hurried across her notebook. Chora read aloud: ¡°Where is the deadliest black-winged bird in the Vencian Wood?¡± A perplexed finger went up to her chin. Weird question, and at the same time it was just what I most wanted right now. If I could get Bayce¡¯s second ingredient while also scoring an astounding kill, I¡¯d be, yep, killing two birds with one stone. I only wished I¡¯d added, ¡°And make sure the bird isn¡¯t a revered great spirit or anything.¡± At first I worried that Chora might be confused or just clueless about this subject, but eventually she replied. ¡°There are some magpies in the area, yeah. And they can be pests. They live right on the border between the Vencian Wood and a village, west of us. They¡¯ll steal locals¡¯ things. Some of their crimes are blamed on spirits, but if you ask me, I would suspect that they¡¯re in league with spirits, and possibly evil ones at that. People say they have a stockpile of all their stolen goods, somewhere around here. All rumor.¡± Hm¡­this was the kind of story that made me feel like a questing ranger. Evil magpies that nobody had even bothered to stop by now? With a huge cache of treasure? Was Chora kidding me right now? These Vencians must¡¯ve been weaklings beyond my comprehension, because I had to be strong enough to pound those magpies flat. Even if I were still Level 1, I¡¯d have a special Treasure-hunting ability that made me perfectly suited to case the place and find the missing goods. Awesome. Amazingly good response, Chora. The only thing that would¡¯ve made it better would be a big magpie boss or spirit-puppetmaster to target, but I could find that puzzle piece on my own, I figured. It sure sounded worthy of a Quest to me.
Quest: Find the Magpies¡¯ Treasure Cache
Rewards: +Bonus EXP! +250 Gold! +An Exotic Vase!
Nice! Except the vase? I-I mean, I wasn¡¯t complaining, but¡­ That settled that. My mind was already working hard on plans for the next day. Now I settled my body down as much as I could, given all that excitement, and set my paws on the glass again. Question two¡­ Ah, the smell from downstairs reached me as the triangle moved. The smoke! Somebody, or maybe somebodies, were frying the fish I¡¯d caught down there. My mouth watered. So would my eyes, soon, despite the closed door. Chora was already taking out a handkerchief and dabbing at her face. ¡ªQuestion two! Look alive, Chora! She blinked the tears back and scratched out my next sentence: ¡°Would anyone like to see my golden sword of prophecy?¡± She paused. Even after writing this one down, she didn¡¯t seem to believe she¡¯d written it out correctly. Did it sound too weird? Was it the concept, or just the rhyme? Even after writing this one down, she didn¡¯t seem to believe it. Or was it more that it sounded too weird? ¡°Could you¡­would you mind repeating that?¡± she said. But the glass beneath my paws didn¡¯t budge. She wouldn¡¯t say a thing, so I showed her the sword to let her know it was real. It blustered onto the spirit board, and I was glad I¡¯d at least shunted the glass piece away. With a clang and a rattle, the Debug Blade made landfall. It was just as glorious here as it had been in the late afternoon sun. Chora had scrambled out of the way, knees up, stare intense, and she¡¯d crabwalked about halfway across the room in fright and suspicion. Then the fright in her eyes died out. All that remained in her face was a profound and obvious ¡°YES.¡± 49. The Strongest Sword User Doesn鈥檛 Have [Arms]! ¡°Um¡­¡± Reed, standing at her end of the dinner table, coughed. She actually trembled a little. ¡°I do have news.¡± Once again, the table was lush with food carefully and delectably arranged. On top of a delicate handmade checkered cloth, a bowl of steaming, crispy fried fish next to gravy boats and sauce bowls stole the show. There was also a vial of¡­cream? Melted butter? Cottage cheese? And a basket of crunchy, uncooked greens that resembled leeks or celery. Along with a few biscuits, for good measure. Each of us¡ªReed, Bayce, Chora and I¡ªgot a cup of water and a cup of a weird, heady, bitter-smelling drink that I was afraid to touch after my last alcoholic debacle. Actually, the only thing I¡¯d touched yet was a bit of fish. Eager for meat, I had grabbed it in both paws and torn a stringy bite off before Reed had even begun speaking¡­ And it took a full second for the rudeness to dawn on me. Helped along by a tactful look from Chora. I regretted eating so early and at such a dramatic moment, but I couldn¡¯t take it back now. Inwardly I kicked myself for having beefed it again. As Reed cleared her throat a second time, the rest of us waited patiently. ¡°Well, here¡¯s something good first,¡± Reed began. ¡°My mother sent a letter home, a long and mostly happy one.¡± She turned to me and said, ¡°Mom¡¯s a professional advance mage, one of the best in the country. She¡¯s teaching at Omnedrick Academy. On occasion she gets called on to do missions out of state.¡± ¡°It¡¯s an exciting life,¡± Bayce said with a hint of a smile. Reed chuckled. ¡°I-it¡¯s a bit much for me¡­ But anyway, my mom said everything¡¯s going well, with the family and such.¡± With a little bow, she added, ¡°She says hi to you two, Bayce and Chora!¡± Bayce nodded in place of a bow. Chora smiled vaguely, seemingly uncomfortable with this attention. Reed clasped her hands together and, with great determination, declared, ¡°Tomorrow, I¡¯m going to write her back!!¡± Bayce leaned over to me and muttered, ¡°It¡¯s a big ordeal. Those letters are frickin¡¯ huge.¡± ¡°Why don¡¯t you write shorter ones?¡± Chora said, and for once she and Bayce were unequivocally on the same wavelength. Reed said, ¡°Because I like to write them long! And it¡¯s what¡¯s expected by now.¡± At the end her voice trailed off into resignation. How sad¡­a trap of her own design. Moving on, she said, ¡°That brings me to the bad news. Mom told me that a Rare Hunter is coming to the woods. For ¡®research,¡¯ whatever that means. She may already be here by now.¡± An odd silence came over the table. Bayce and Chora seemed disturbed, shaken. ¡°Which one?¡± Chora said. ¡°Famous?¡± ¡°Yes, very.¡± Bayce sighed and put her head in one hand. Chora tentatively took a plate and filled it with fish and biscuits, likely as a coping mechanism. From behind her back¡ªthe same place-non-place where she grabbed her sword, obviously¡ªReed grabbed a newspapery bunch of papers that her mom Lily must¡¯ve sent. ¡°It¡¯s DeGalle dmAge! And she probably has an army of camerapeople, too!¡± My first thought was, Annoying! My second was, Wait¡­normal! A hunter going out into the woods with a camera? Wha, woah, how scary, what a big deal. Reed explained it to me. ¡°Rare Hunters are like heroes, but the problem is¡­virtually every hero in existence is self-styled, and Rare Hunters in particular do more glory-seeking than¡­philosophical introspection about what they¡¯re doing. Many of them just won¡¯t talk to local guardians because they assume those guardians have made a mistake by ¡®allowing evil to fester,¡¯ or however they phrase it now. There are times when a hero is exactly what the world needs, and there are others when all they do is bumble around, interfere in things that aren¡¯t any mortal¡¯s business, and act like any good result was all their doing.¡± By this time Bayce was forking food into her mouth. ¡°DeGalle is like the worst one, too,¡± she said, teeth churning. ¡°You ever read any of her books? Funniest garbage I¡¯ve ever seen.¡± ¡°She once tried to fight a Doom Reaper, thinking they would offer her the keys to heaven,¡± Chora said, ¡°or some weirdness like that. The Reaper Codex doesn¡¯t even mention Doom Reapers as heavenly emissaries. She wanted Dread Cherubs, if anything.¡± She shook her head. ¡°I really don¡¯t know who she¡¯s trying to impress.¡± ¡°Also,¡± Reed noted, ¡°the Doom Reaper killed fifteen of her employees.¡± ¡°And she¡¯s still in business!¡± Bayce cried, hands flying outward. Now my thought was, Sad! This DeGalle person sounded like a reality TV show mogul to me. Only instead of making sadistic comments about the quality of people¡¯s food, singing voices, or celebrity marriages, she, um, found the real, actual equivalents of Bigfoot and watched as they slaughtered her employees, it sounded like. I didn¡¯t have a single coherent reaction to this, but I felt I couldn¡¯t just go without showing my sympathies somehow, so I gave them a sad, ambiguous ¡°maowww¡­¡± ¡°But the worst part is how much it¡¯ll disrupt things around the woods,¡± said Reed, who had finally sat down to eat with the rest of us. (I myself was trying a crispy vegetable¡ªhorrible idea.) ¡°She and a whole cavalcade of assistants, just marching through the woods, calling anything they see that might be a little off in their minds a sign of the end, or the next big clue to another horrible monster.¡± ¡°And she¡¯ll interview us!¡± ¡°¡­Bayce, you almost sound excited.¡± ¡°I am, kind of!¡± ¡°But she¡­she sucks, Bayce, you know that.¡± ¡°Yeah, but I get a cameo in my favorite bad book series. If I ever have nieces and nephews,¡± she said wistfully, ¡°they¡¯ll hand my story down for generations.¡± ¡°Or give your story to me,¡± Chora said, ¡°and I¡¯ll burn it.¡± Bayce¡¯s expression flatlined. ¡°You two are no fun sometimes. I¡¯m sure our cat friend here has a different opinion, seeing as they¡¯re from a spiritual plane, probably have some transcendental ideas about what really makes life worth living.¡± Err¡­apart from my recurring urge to catch live prey, no, I didn¡¯t have much of an idea about that. Even learning my own existential purpose in life hadn¡¯t made me any wiser on that front (and you¡¯d really think that it would). Hopefully my innocent stare into Bayce¡¯s eyes could tell her that much? ¡°Aw, they¡¯re an innocent,¡± Bayce said, indeed getting the right idea. ¡°See? Those eyes are glittering with faith in the good that DeGalle might do. Or blunder into. I told you, I study luck¡ªand I know just how easily a bad turn can flip to a good.¡± She snapped her fingers. I was inclined to agree. DeGalle coming around didn¡¯t sound like the end of the world. And then I remembered the mass ecological destruction that heroes fighting with magic might bring along. Oh. Reed told Bayce very carefully, ¡°I promise you I like fun as much as the next person, but if she or anyone she might be associated with knocks on that door, please don¡¯t open it.¡± Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. ¡°Can I¡­exit the cabin and accept her interview elsewhere?¡± Bayce said cheekily. Reed¡¯s eyebrows creased with worry. ¡°Yyyyes, but in such a way that I won¡¯t be held legally liable?¡± ¡°¡¯Course.¡± Bayce winked and made a clicky mouth-sound. We ate for a while, all deep in thought, but I noticed that Chora was halting and hesitant. She kept scanning the room, the faces at the table. Wondering when she could drop the news about¡­ ¡°I have a sword,¡± she said, ¡°that I¡¯d like to show you.¡± Reed and Bayce looked up, not comprehending. ¡°It¡¯s actually from the cat spirit.¡± I nodded to confirm. Bayce turned to me. ¡°Do you know what it¡­why you¡­¡± I shook my head and gave a cat-shrug. ¡°And here it is,¡± she said, pulling it out from under the table. A grandiose swishing sound followed it (and implied that there were now wood shavings on the carpet). Reed shouted incoherently. ¡°Aah! Aah!¡± ¡°What the heck is that?!¡± Bayce screamed. ¡°It¡¯s just a sword, I think. She didn¡¯t add a name to¡ª¡± Bayce hollered, ¡°That sword could pay off my student debts!¡± ¡°All of our debts for everything!¡± Reed add-corrected. Chora remained stoic. ¡°Let¡¯s not lose our heads over it,¡± she said, still looking like a calm and reluctant Arthurian hero. Reed stammered, ¡°W-we could also use it to¡ª¡± ¡°Hit DeGalle in the face!¡± Bayce said, almost tearful with joy. ¡°Y¡­yeah, but that¡¯d be assault.¡± ¡°Not in a duel!¡± ¡°We could also kill those thieving magpies,¡± Chora said¡ªpretty sensibly, I thought, but that suggestion got lost in the commotion. ¡°What blade is that? It has to be something big or famous. Either that or it¡¯s a cruddy recreation of something big and famous,¡± went Bayce. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me,¡± Chora said, brows furrowed. ¡°I already told you¡ª¡± Poof! That wasn¡¯t me transforming by accident¡ªthough the sound and smoke gave my heart a pang of fear. It was Bayce summoning a big encyclopedic book into her hands a second before she leafed through at extraordinary speed. Just as quickly, she poofed it away. ¡°It looks to be the Drunken Dragon¡¯s Blade,¡± she said. ¡°According to one legend, the dragon makes things after drowning himself in regret for his crimes against humanity. Wow, that¡¯s dark, but also, if the thing¡¯s authentic, it should¡¯ve come from a patch of open field just northeast of here. A dragon is said to touch down there every thousand years.¡± Now Chora¡¯s eyes widened like they had in her bedroom when she first saw the sword. Reed said wide-eyed, almost whispered, ¡°That strongly implies that the sword is part of a prophecy.¡± Bayce crossed her arms, clearly deep in thought again. ¡°Mm-hm¡­¡± ¡°So we can¡¯t sell it?¡± Chora said. ¡°That¡¯s what I was afraid of,¡± Bayce said. ¡°We have to be heroes?!¡± Reed cried. ¡°Yeah,¡± Chora said, with a slight dip in her spirits. Reed sighed. ¡°At least we¡¯d be actual ones, not bumbling ones.¡± With a nervous laugh, she added, ¡°Well, I do have a bit of experience turning evil away under pressure.¡± I knew she was talking about that spooky chapel we¡¯d been to together. Maybe several other incidents throughout her young life too. Bayce said, ¡°Honestly, a summer adventure with my friends wouldn¡¯t be bad at all, if that¡¯s what hurtling toward us¡­except I have to ensure my survival for the upcoming semester. And I¡¯m really much more interested in honing my craft for a very specific career path, which, in the vast majority of cases, doesn¡¯t have crap to do with whacking monsters in the face. Plus: my debt.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve heard about your debt,¡± Chora threw in. ¡°No way we can sell this sword, though. If it went wrong, we would definitely be legally liable for that.¡± Bayce said uncertainly, ¡°We could bury it¡­¡± Reed shook her head. ¡°Nobody in this room is powerless. But whoever finds it years from now might be.¡± Bayce opened her mouth again. Reed blurted, ¡°And we won¡¯t break it!¡± ¡°I guess that would truly get someone to smite us.¡± ¡°We just have to keep it and¡­use it in whatever saga has just landed at our doorstep.¡± She was now running her hand up and down the flat side of the blade, feeling its quality. ¡°Sure, we might be getting roped into a destiny none of us wanted to accept, but it¡¯s better than getting cursed by an entity as mighty and prestigious as a dragon.¡± Bayce started to protest, but Chora snapped back, ¡°Don¡¯t you say anything else until you¡¯ve given it more than two seconds of thought.¡± Bayce looked enraged. ¡°I think! I was just going to bring up the obvious! That we¡¯re not alone, we can use the person who brought this sword into our lives, our friend¡ª¡± ¡°How dare you,¡± Chora growled. ¡°The cat spirit isn¡¯t someone to burden, they¡¯re not our pack mule or servant. They are our quest-giver.¡± Woah. Her fury was shocking, but I had trouble figuring out precisely why. There were palpable differences in the fury of every person here. Reed had trouble revving the motor. Bayce¡¯s rage was obvious, too obvious. But while Chora wasn¡¯t devoid of emotion, and her bitter sarcasm and passive-aggression could be plain as day, when she lowered her voice and anchored herself in the supposed power of a spirit like me, it hit me in the gut. Yet I couldn¡¯t help but feel a surge of something strange, as if I was a god defended by my overzealous zealot. But¡­I pushed away my semi-religious pride. It didn¡¯t feel like now was the time for it. Maybe this was a strange thing to admit,¡­but if Bayce was ultimately about to ask me to do her bidding vis-¨¤-vis the sword, I didn¡¯t mind that. Being an errand girl appealed to me, as long as it came with some actual advantage on my end. I didn¡¯t know if I¡¯d appreciate that relationship in an alternate reality where I was reincarnated as a Systemless average cat, but¡­ If I got to beat stuff up and gain Levels, it was cool! And so was taking on a Quest, honestly. Having a Quest tamp down my freedom was okay as long as it came with, at least, some sort of cool vase. I also began to wonder if DeGalle wandering around this place had something to do with the sword. Maybe I¡¯d get to meet her and figure out what she¡¯s after? Or maybe she¡¯d give me intuitive Quest Vibes and I¡¯d somehow know she¡¯s fated to join our adventure too? Not that I could say any of that easily. But I did my best impression of a doggy wagging tail and turned toward Bayce. ¡°They might be our pack mule, if we ask,¡± Bayce said, and not very smoothly. ¡°Wh-why don¡¯t we go on eating for now,¡± Reed said. And so we all did. The tension at the table had been palpable. It hadn¡¯t escaped my notice¡ªnot even my asocial, clueless notice¡ªthat something was up with this band of ¡°friends.¡± Two were dancing around each other¡¯s throats while the third spent a lot of time struggling not to step on any toes. Had they even known each other that long? Or did things just get really bad once they started having to be roommates? Hmm¡­ I pondered this as I kept eating, but I just wasn¡¯t sure what I could do about it. On a brighter note, I just realized that this odd boat of cream cheese tasted like a very sharp, non-cream cheese, yet thick and substantial, like hummus. It was great! I couldn¡¯t use it well as a sauce, seeing as I didn¡¯t have the dexterity to politely dip fish into the pile of it now on my plate, but the main course was expertly fried, and the fish themselves were so tender and¡­slimeless. There really was something to the human art of cooking after all. After the meal, and after the human women had put the table and tableware away, Reed came to see me personally, sitting by my side on the couch-bed. Immediately I glowed and sat up straighter. I hadn¡¯t noticed just how deeply I¡¯d been waiting for a one-on-one moment with her¡ªit was like a little bolt of happy electricity ran through me, head to tail. ¡°Hey, friend,¡± she said. ¡°Uh¡­I¡¯m sorry if I¡¯ve been awkward around you this whole time. When we¡¯re alone outside, it feels different, it feels easier. And my friendships with Chora and Bayce are¡±¡ªshe laughed¡ª¡°falling apart¡­¡± Yeah. I could feel that. Reed must¡¯ve sensed the look in my eyes and the tilt of my head. ¡°Yes¡­we¡¯re friends going way back. Bayce, Chora and I met in primary school. At first we had ups and downs, but soon we were the best of friends. And we stayed that way.¡± She was rubbing the back of her neck uncertainly. ¡°Then Chora moved, and it took years before she would even get back in contact with us. I think she was ashamed because¡­ Oh, that¡¯s not my story to tell. I¡¯ve said too much!¡± She did a panicky laugh. Her way of apologizing to a friend who had already retreated upstairs. I meowed a long, sympathetic meow. Reed was clearly tense, and probably had been all this summer. I stretched my back out and held the pose, keeping my eyes on her. ¡°What are you doing? Stretching?¡± I kept staring. ¡°Is this rubbies?¡± ¡°Hey!¡± cried a witch¡¯s voice from the kitchen. Her selective hearing had zeroed in on her failing: not having collected rubbies. ¡°You petting the cat in there?¡± I hissed. Not for you! Reed ran a hand down my back, and I arched my body along with it. But her hand was a knuckle, not a relaxed palm. It was just as Bayce had said: she wouldn¡¯t, couldn¡¯t let herself relax. ¡°Murrr,¡± I said. Reed lowered her voice, even as Bayce went deeper into the kitchen again. ¡°You know,¡± she told me, ¡°if I¡¯m coming on too strong or anything, you don¡¯t have to hang out with me. You have other housemates here. I¡¯m not that great, but Bayce is going to university and Chora is, well, she¡¯s so talented¡­¡± Whuh? Where did this come from? Reed, self-defeating? No. No no no. I guessed I should¡¯ve seen this coming, since she¡¯d been so self-sacrificing, apologetic, chore-happy, compliant¡ªpliant. But it hurt to watch. Feral cats have no time for that kind of overthinking. Reed was such a chronic overthinker! I began to crawl into her lap, but Reed bolted upright and made for the door, saying loudly (and probably for Bayce¡¯s benefit as much as mine), ¡°Well, it¡¯s about time for bed! I¡¯m going to get ready and¡­stuff. Our guest can have the sofa again¡ªit¡¯s already made¡ªand there are some leftovers that everyone can have as snacks in the pantry and fridge. Good night!¡± ¡°WWWAAAAAIT!¡± Bayce cried out, scrambling across the den and onto the staircase after Reed. ¡°I need to talk to you about the trash! I can¡¯t believe I almost forgot!¡± ¡°It¡¯s understandable, we had a big day!¡± ¡°No, but the trash! It reeks! Aren¡¯t the raccoons coming back for it?!¡± ¡°I-I¡¯m afraid not¡­ I¡¯ll explain upstairs.¡± I would¡¯ve followed them to try and help with the endless raccoon struggle if not for the way Reed left me in the cold. So I hung back, not wanting to fray Reed¡¯s nerves any more than I may have already. The two of them strolled upstairs, leaving me to sit on the sofa and ponder. 50. Tiptoe Through the Morning As a cat, I maintained the right to do sneaky things without telling anybody. I¡¯d already started to use it (and possibly abuse it) earlier, between my spirit board hangout with Chora and the fried fish dinner. Wandering around the second floor, I did all the exploring I could without opening a single closed door. (Doorknobs and handles are hard when your human hands aren¡¯t great with tensile strength.) This cabin wasn¡¯t as big as I¡¯d envisioned seeing it from the outside. The upstairs hallways were narrow, the rooms apparently limited to bedrooms, bathrooms, a hall closet, and a closed place that could technically have been anything. There was another ceiling hatch leading to some attic¡­or maybe to a fancy telescope room? I dunno, it¡¯s fun to dream. In fairness, the first floor also had a tiny guest room that, minus the fact that it was dustless, looked like it hadn¡¯t been used in half a century. An ornate ornamental vase filled with perfumed flowers (also replaced recently) stood beside a tiny marble table and high-backed regal chairs. And right outside, I¡¯d always noticed a locked hatch in the dirt, one no doubt leading to some cool basement¡­or food storage. Now I woke up in the still-dark cabin, asking myself if the place was worth another exploration. But what would that lead to? More unreadable books? More strange, cow-tool-esque objects I couldn¡¯t ask about without feeling nervous and inadvertently letting people know that yes I snuck around? After which it ceases to be sneaking around? No! Early morning was not my favorite wake-up time, but it was perfect for leaving home unseen¡­and starting the hunt for the magpies¡¯ treasure. Nudging the covers off myself with my nose, I crawled free of the sofa bed, did a pretty careless job of making the bed again with more nudging, and then set my sights on the snacks in the kitchen. ¡­Snf snf. My ears flicked and swiveled. Aw, come on. Chora was up already? Yes, it was true. I heard her moving around in her room. The vibrations through the floorboards were faint, but definitely not an illusion. It shamed me, somehow, to not be the earliest riser of the bunch. With any luck, I could get out my snacks and get out the door before¡ª ¡°You can¡¯t eat that without reheating it!¡± She¡¯d caught me. The refrigerator door hung open, and so did a crate full of fish that I¡¯d nearly turned on its side. Chora, looking oddly enraged, had stopped me just a moment too late¡ªa fried koi was already in my mouth. I didn¡¯t spit it out, just kept chewing. She didn¡¯t have a response prepared for that. ¡°Fine¡­but you know about germs, I hope,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re taking a risk with your health.¡± Sure, but¡­most animals didn¡¯t cook anything in the first place¡­ Now that she knew I was awake and setting off, Chora insisted on seeing me off. At least she was tactful enough to stay quiet about it. Carrying an unlit candlestick¡ªtotally ineffective for whatever ritual she was up to, but at least it wouldn¡¯t tip off Bayce or Reed¡ªshe opened the door for me. She also left me with some parting tips. Admittedly, I probably needed those. ¡°They¡¯re fierce animals, playful and fierce,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯ll know them by their black-and-white feathers and their deep, gurgly cries. Sometimes they attack one by one. Sometimes in swarms. And when it¡¯s mating season, it¡¯s worse.¡± ¡°Meow?¡± ¡°No, it comes in the fall, lucky for you.¡± ¡°Meow.¡± I bowed my head to thank her. ¡°Safe travels.¡± With a perfunctory wave, Chora shut the door. And then, as I heard through the door, she tromped up the stairs with alarming speed to start her exercise routine. Morning was dawning. The rim of the sky was turning teal, sign of a new day. Though the air was still chilly, my blood was pumping and I felt more than ready to race ahead. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. To the west! I pulled up my Map¡­ ¡­and found absolutely nothing unusual, though I wondered if I could add a marker for approximately where I was going. Chora said it was basically a straight line away, though. That made it easy. But why hadn¡¯t I gotten a thorough tutorial for such a basic function, huuuuuh? (You exaggerate things to get people¡¯s attention.)
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
It worked. Good point. But thorough tutorials bore me to tears, so I try not to inflict them on others.
That¡¯s not even worth an eyeroll! You¡¯ve inflicted so much bullcrap on me already. Too many times to count! Let me put a nice, pretty, presentable marker on square A3 of my Map!!
Aren¡¯t you overlooking something? Something Treasure-shaped that¡¯s floating way down in square A5, rather than close to the cabin as expected?
You¡¯re dodging the question!
Why even have a new marker? You don¡¯t need it.
Sure, b-but it¡¯s not always about need!
Well, they do say one thing that separates humans from the rest is their tireless search for truth and beauty. I commend you, Taipha. But not enough to help.
Um, thanks but no thanks.
Anytime.
D¡¯urr¡­looking at the Map again, I did notice a tiny Treasure thingy floating in some uncharted southern land. Was that the thing I¡¯d gotten notified about a few nights ago? Apparently yes. But my thoughts on it now were the same as my thoughts on it then: ¡°whatever, I can get it whenever.¡± Now instead of being too close to feel pressing, it was too far to be pressing. Maybe I would go further south to find it. Maybe not. Not like Treasures had time limits. Sometimes the real Treasure¡¯s the goal you make yourself! (In service of a Quest somebody else gave you.) Putting my full attention back on today¡¯s goal instead, I walked on. It was a nice morning with a touch of mist in the air, and I felt suddenly that I wanted to make the most of it by taking an easy stroll until it got brighter. Yeah! Nice. Tranquil, the way a human garden was supposed to be. I almost felt impervious walking here, as if the human-ness of my tall friends had rubbed off on me. Birds and squirrels chittered but kept their distance. And their fur sparkled in the newborn sun as it began to rise. ¡­Was it just me, or was there an animal not far behind me, matching my footsteps? Uh, yep. It was true. With every step I took, a similar footfall happened just a split second later, sort of diagonal from me¡ªand when I looked back to see who, without breaking my pace, I only saw shady trees. I sped up. Not much, just to test this foe. Get a better sense of their speed and size and wits. Within seconds I was¡ªand I was sure about this¡ªbeing followed by a gang of five. Now I started to trot¡ªrun¡ªgallop. The five began to multiply, and then they gave up all pretense of sneaking up on me, exploding into a run to match mine. No, they were gaining! And I didn¡¯t dare look back anymore. I just kept galloping, my legs hoping to Sierra that my brain would use this time to think of something other than OH NO, WHY ARE VENCIAN MAGPIES SO BIG. No no¡ªcalm down¡ª Okay, that¡¯s no longer possible, but think, Taipha, put the facts together. As the creatures got closer, I stole half a glance back at them by turning my head to the side. From the corner of my eye, I got it: a gray mass of¡ªmammals! Biggish mammals. Big in comparison to me, not you. Which wasn¡¯t a relief at all. OH CRAP OH NO! I thought, even more desperate. Now they were starting to snarl! And no doubt foaming at their toothy little mouths, since they were running so hard. What Level were they, even?! It might¡¯ve been a mercy that I didn¡¯t know. Oh no, they were literally right on my tail¡­ Just kill me now. Coming to my senses a tiny tiny bit, I Leaped forth, then Leaped forward again. The raccoons must have matched that with their own, mightier Leaps, because the moment I did that, they pounced all over me as if I¡¯d stopped instead of accelerated. Amazing. Simply amazing. The one time I didn¡¯t wanna get randomly ambushed by raccoons, I got randomly ambushed by raccoons. At the same time, a no-holds-barred brawl was pretty much what I¡¯d wished for. Just desserts¡­ I would¡¯ve sighed heavily if it weren¡¯t for the twenty-plus bodies piling onto me and digging into my flesh. 51. The Gray Hairy Flood Flares of bright, colorful energy scattered and played upon my aching face as the raccoons activated every Skill in their arsenals. I rolled with them, snarling and snapping my fangs everywhere I could, even if on nothing but air¡ªwhile they sent drills of fire-hot energy into my body. And yes, this all happened at the incomprehensible speed of a ferret chasing a ball across the playroom.
HP 84% (273/325)
SP 69% (186/270)
Leaping twice earlier had done nothing to get these creatures off my back. And while my HP looks kind of alright in this snapshot, it was rapidly and erratically decreasing with every new tooth in my side. Slash! With flailing claws, I scored¡ªhalf a hit, clipping a raccoon¡¯s shoulder as they darted away. Cccooooowaaaaard! At least I was surviving.
HP 48% (157/325)
SP 38% (102/270)
Bbbut not for much longer. HP was going down rapidly.
HP 37% (121/325)
Ggguuuuurgh! No, you can¡¯t put me on my fourth life already! My thoughts hurried to my Inventory. Surely there was a good strategy there! I¡¯d actually swapped out my robin feathers for some cold cuts, bodies at the ready to drop on the raccoons (or distract them away). Sure, this would be a sad way to win¡ªI expected the plucky animals to lose all respect for me, assuming any had ever existed¡ªbut, hey! I could live! Poof, poof, poof poof poof! A hailstorm of meat, the biggest koi I could unleash, poured down on them all. Golden fish, tumbling in clouds of transcendent silver-orange and mild rot, bounced off their hides, leaving traces of rank juice. It mostly just plopped onto the ground. Any hope I had of that fish being a tasty distraction was lost now. The raccoons did not go for it. Why would they ever go for it? I was on the brink of death, and if they stopped killing me now they¡¯d leave Experience Points on the table! They did get those, right? For a moment I tried throwing my paws up in surrender. Good game! I told them in my head. If we both agreed to treat this as a duel, they would no longer have to break my spine to get out the egg yolk that was my tasty, protein-rich Experience. So I needed another plan. I¡¯d never intended to use the Debug Blade for anything but shallow experimentation, but¡­until Chora and the rest figured out definitively what they wanted to do with it, it was mine, taking up a precious slot. Until I remembered how useful it was. Poof. And bonk. The Drunken Dragon¡¯s Blade bopped a raccoon on the head with its blunt edge. That¡¯s right. Things made of metal hurt more. With a squeak of pain, the raccoon fell backward¡ªand crumpled up into a bloody-faced heap. The sword, meanwhile, went back into my Inventory. That made the raccoon gang stop and freeze. Before chewing me apart again. I was right back to flailing around, barely able to put two words together in my head. Finally I had sense enough to activate Guard, but feeling my muscles stiffen around the teeth that were currently in my flesh, ooogh, that was a terrible thing.
HP 24% (78/325)
SP 30% (81/270)
I tried the same strategy two more times, and throughout I continued to work with the dregs of my Slash, but by now the rodents had learned that their best strategy was always to just go on attacking with their remaining troops through the small losses. What was one body compared to about thirty? And they soaked up those Slashes like sponges, I swear.
HP 12% (40/325)
SP 30% (81/270)
Since none of these raccoons had fallen yet, and since their rabies-like behavior didn¡¯t give me obvious tells that any of them were about to perish, I had no reliable combat strategy going forward. 81 SP meant I couldn¡¯t afford a new Slash once this one ran out. Frankly, though, Slash wasn¡¯t doing me any good. Sure, I¡¯d have the 70 SP I needed for Swipe, but Swipe was just Slash But Worse, and barely worth the cost savings. So my only viable way to a win was the Infinite Harden Strategy. I could spend 63 SP on three Guards, curl up, and occasionally swat the vicious beasts swarming all over me. Either it¡¯d work eventually, or¡­it would fail eventually. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. So was this it? Was I officially out of¡­ No, there was hope. But¡­to use it so soon? And when Chora still had so much respect for me? Well, we were far enough from the cabin that yowling wouldn¡¯t bring her out of her exercise routine, not even my highest-pitch or deepest-throat death shouts. So why not summon her with the cantrip she¡¯d given me? Agh, I wished I wasn¡¯t having those thoughts. Chora didn¡¯t need me to obliterate her extremely powerful family heirloom, she needed me to eat this loss and die (not that I was totally convinced yet I would die) so I at least had a shot of Sierra rolling the dice on me again. Still. Help would be a good thing. And the cabin must¡¯ve been too far away for Chora to hear any of these deadly shenanigans. Wait a second. I didn¡¯t need human help, I had my own! Breaking free from a dazzling white cloud, whipping off the shocked raccoons with my gloriously long limbs, I stood up and allowed myself a millisecond¡¯s worth of smile. Then I booked it back to the cabin. Maybe it was the polka-dot holes trailing blood from my arms and legs and making me dizzy, but I felt ecstatic, like a marathon runner on the vital last stretch. And what made it so much better was the fact that I was in the clear. Those raccoons were now as scared of me as I was scared of them. This beautiful mutuality was the bedrock of a new era for us. Then I heard a snarl rip through the forest, followed by a rolling flood of bodies. A look over my shoulder told me that the raccoons were literally falling over themselves to get me. ¡­At this point, their rage was just unhealthy. I pumped my arms and legs like there was no tomorrow. My infinite hair caught on branches, tore, sparked pinpricks of pain on my scalp. So much for that. I phased into the form that made me faster. And as I did, I made up my mind to Leap as soon as I spotted a cliff, a body of water, an anything. Instead I spotted a Chora, and that made me really glad I hadn¡¯t chosen to Leap after all. A glimpse of the cabin clearing showed behind her as she sprinted our way. Determination locked her eyes on me, then on the raccoons who once again had been catching up. I yowled and sidestepped like I expected her to tackle them. For all I knew¡­mmmaybe she would? I mean, she had slightly brawny arms. Whether she was sweating from current exertion, sweating from earlier exercise, or understandably sweating in aggravation because her exercise had probably been interrupted, I could not guess. Still, as I dodged, Chora boldly pressed forward. The raccoons barely had time to react, to change course even if they¡¯d wanted to. One of her feet stamped more deeply into the ground. A pivot. She roundhouse-kicked, hitting two raccoons and knocking them a short distance away. But that wasn¡¯t the important part. The kick brought a gale-force wind, one edged with tints of green magic. Like living bowling pins, approximately thirty raccoons were blasted apart and sent rolling onto their backs. Chora had stepped in, and she now looked like some archetypal ideal of a wrestler: gaze steady, fists clenched, muscles taut, and elbows held at her sides while her forearms jutted out like the swords they may as well have been. She was wearing a few rings, and I could see her anklets clearly over her exercise leggings, but wow, her weapons¡­she didn¡¯t have any. She didn¡¯t need any? Her weapons were magic¡ªmagic and muscles. With a windmill kick, she swirled another gale into existence, pushing away more raccoon stragglers. And then she was standing before and above me, her legs a protective arch. I could feel her aura of power, and at this distance I could see clearly a heat-devil effect making the air around her pulsate. It was palpable, exerting a constant dull pressure on me even as I did nothing but lie there and yelp my incoherent, bleeding thanks. Chora was a flurry of kicks, chops, straight jabs, palm slaps, and composure. After every attack, she brought her feet back to the exact same spot in the grass where she¡¯d first made the arch. And the impressions they left were deepening, as if her magic itself was heavy. It wasn¡¯t that her blows were strong, so much as that they kept raccoons away. This had become a war of attrition. For every raccoon I¡¯d softened up for her to knock out, there were four that gave up. I considered reaching out to grab a slice of Experience, but I didn¡¯t want to knock Chora out of her rhythm. Or get caught in her blasts. Several minutes passed, but I wasn¡¯t even aware of it¡ªwatching her fight was so hypnotizing. But eventually a time came when there was nothing more coming after us. Most raccoons were driven off. A few lay twitching in the dirt, slaughtered. Either way, they were gone now. They¡¯d been defeated. At last, Chora stepped away from her post, and I saw that her footprints were a full fifteen centimeters deep. With a wristband, she wiped her forehead reasonably clean. One sigh and shoulder-stretch later, she said, ¡°I assume those weren¡¯t the lycanborns.¡± Woozily, I shook my head. ¡­Her joke was so funny my brain didn¡¯t even notice. In an attempt to thank her for saving my life, I followed my own little stretch with a bow. For long seconds, the silence was broken only by a leaf-carrying breeze. When I looked up, she was likewise bowing. ¡°It¡¯s any intelligent being¡¯s duty to help others,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s what I believe, anyway.¡± That struck me as an interesting idea, and while it wouldn¡¯t have resonated with me a mere week ago, it did so now. Helping others. Making them happy. Was I really¡­obligated to do that? Or was it more that I wanted to, that I shackled myself this way willingly? That I knew perfectly well I could sit like a pompous freeloader in that log cabin and Reed would adore me, and Chora would pamper me, and Bayce would hate me but she¡¯d have no way to do anything about it? Was it just that now that I knew helping others was possible, I wanted to pull my own weight? ¡°¡­If I have belittled your own philosophy,¡± Chora said, ¡°I sincerely apologize. I¡­didn¡¯t mean to.¡± I looked in her eyes, and she did seem sincere. If she trembled, that was her honest guilt. People on Vencia could be very serious. But she had nothing to apologize for. I¡¯d started out existence with no coherent philosophy. Then I¡¯d had Sierra¡¯s philosophy grafted and glued onto me. Maybe it wasn¡¯t so bad. Maybe I did want to make Chora happy. But¡­my mind drifted to practical matters. Now that I had just a sprinkling of HP left, today as I had conceived it looked pretty much ruined. I¡¯d have to go back home, wouldn¡¯t I? And with Chora walking solemnly alongside, making me feel all weird. Unless¡­ I didn¡¯t have this brain for nothing, and I was about to use it for a decent plan, one that would take some decent communication. Relaxing myself, I let my tail bob the way it did when I was content. I put on my sorrowful pleading eyes, but only dialed them up to about twenty percent. I meowed apologetically, as if to say, ¡°No need to be sorry, my dear devoted servant.¡± Chora responded by clapping her hands together¡ªnot like Reed did with folded fingers, but with hands and palms straight-vertical¡ªand declaring boldly, ¡°If there is any concession I can make¡­¡± Poof! To make my requests clearer, I turned into my nekomata form. I held up three fingers, to start. Chora nodded her understanding. One finger: request number one. I drew a bowl of cat food on the ground, bent down, and mimed eating. Chora squinted a bit at this, likely because I was supposed to pantomime eating a sandwich and not just show her a naked woman eating dirt mush, but she was following along. Request number two. I curled up on the ground and closed my eyes. ¡°¡­Fetus,¡± Chora guessed. That was totally wrong, so I temporarily changed form into a cat again. Also, I yawned for good measure. ¡°Oh. Okay, sleep.¡± Request number three. I pointed to her, then me, then did my best to say the word ¡°come.¡± It came out mangled and slow as a mudslide, as usual, but hey, she¡¯d understood my ¡°sorry¡± yesterday. No way this word could be misunderstood. ¡°¡­Oh, you mean come along,¡± she said after about a million years. Though she remained composed, there was a shred of a blush on her face. Darnit. Could humans stop reading too far between the lines and injecting their own innuendo into things?! ¡°Meow!¡± I cried in the affirmative. Chora took a long pause. I wasn¡¯t amazing at reading behind the veil of eyes to see the gears turning in humans¡¯ heads, but I had to guess that she¡¯d made her own plans for the day. Plans that would have to be rewritten. I, however, hadn¡¯t planned this far ahead, and at this stage in the game, I did not know how to devise a gesture for ¡°only do this if you want.¡± Then again, Chora dug this hole for herself the moment she asked me to make requests. She sighed for another million years. ¡°Alright¡­¡± 52. Wind Will Strike Just when I expected Chora to take a soul-deep breath and sprint back to the cabin to get food for our journey, sweat flying in her wake, I remembered that yeah duh people have Inventories. She¡¯d most likely done that already. Hers was hovering around both her ankles. Or maybe within them. She simply bent down the way you might to tie your shoe, then pulled out a bottle of water with seamless, disturbing ease. No smoke or anything, much like Reed. She offered me a drink. Luckily, I was still in catgirl form, so I could just take the bottle with my human-y hands and glug. I did handle the bottle as if I was wearing mittens, but I was getting better and better with my hands, even if by a trickle every time I tried. ¡°You look like you might be confused by this¡ªthis Inventory,¡± she said. I handed her back the bottle¡ªhalf-empty¡ªand half nodded. ¡°Yours is natural, right? Bound to you?¡± That sounded rightish. I nodded. ¡°Humans don¡¯t have that. I don¡¯t think anyone else has that besides the soulbound, and maybe legendary creatures. But for us humans, Inventory comes from cantrips. There are many different kinds, so people generally personalize them to their tastes and styles. Reed has a piercing in her back, for instance. Bayce has lots of little attachments all over her, and they¡¯re all for different things, which I think is ridiculous, but I suppose we¡¯re all different.¡± Eugh. She was really making a career out of feuding with Bayce. ¡°I keep my Inventory on my ankles as a challenge to myself. Like if I really need it, I should be willing to stop for it. If I¡¯m running long-distance, for example, do I actually need water, or am I just saying that because I¡¯m giving up early? Am I reaching my full potential? That sort of thing.¡± You¡¯re a very intense girl, Chora, and I think there¡¯s a lot to appreciate about that. I poofed into a cat again, trying my best to show her a solemn appreciation by simply sitting calm and still. Chora whistled out another sigh, took a look around the seemingly empty woods. ¡°What shall we do now?¡± I curled up, yawned, and embarked on a nice, restful nap. Not a Catnap, technically. Chora would guard me. She would need to guard me for hours. ¡°Am I¡­guarding you?¡± ¡°Mmmeow.¡± ***
HP 46% (151/325)
SP 60% (161/270)
I must¡¯ve awakened about four hours later. The world still felt fresh, but now the sky had definitively turned its normal blue. Thin, slithery clouds trailed and looped across. The tweets of benevolent birds filled the air. So did Chora¡¯s somewhat aggravated breath. Good thing she was good at bottling up her aggravation. Or at least decent¡­ Look, some people didn¡¯t even try, so it¡¯s the comparison that counts. She was sitting cross-legged not far from me, so that as I woke up and straightened upright, I saw her slight but muscular frame in dramatic shade in front of the risen sun, casting a shadow over me. ¡°Welcome back,¡± she said, barely turning. In response, I barely nodded. Then I took a look at my stuff:
Inventory: 5/5
Chora¡¯s Crystal Ring Robin Corpse Debug Blade Koi Corpse x2 Plimpberry Pancake
I took out the robin corpse and feasted upon it. It was nourishing! It healed no HP or SP. After that, I forced down the pancake. It¡­didn¡¯t actually heal that much SP after all, and it wasn¡¯t worth the taste.
SP 78% (211/270)
Hm, so that gave me back¡­about 50 SP, didn¡¯t it? Math truly was the way. I wasn¡¯t totally refreshed, but I had enough, at least I hoped so. Things would be easier with a battle partner by my side. Then we were off. The woods were hilly, uneven, and even a little dry and bare here. Dusty clumps of rock punched through the tall grasses, giving me lots of tiny valleys to dart through and Chora something like an obstacle course. For a human, she was doing an admirable job. The way she moved was unlike Reed and definitely nothing like Bayce: she was neither an artisan of the woods nor an urbanite who occasionally took wilderness photos, but self-consciously athletic. When she stumbled¡ªwhich was rare¡ªshe cinched her eyebrows for a moment, as if cursing herself for the failure. When she succeeded, she looked effortlessly cool. She wasn¡¯t a natural hunter, no. She was well-practiced, which I guessed was the closest to untamed instinct a typical human could get. Chora was also curious about the forest in a way the other humans hadn¡¯t seemed to be. Her head swung erratically to catch sounds and sights. She felt tree trunks and branches and hanging vines as we passed them, as if those things were never known to have thorns. Eventually the path became almost zigzaggy, almost mountainous. Patchy grass turned into patchy dirt, then roadlike dirt paths that started nowhere and ended up in dead-end thickets. Sharp rocks were common, rearing up like baby mountains. Dragonflies, regular flies, and even a few glittering butterflies kept passing through. I loved springing up with a spontaneous jump and just¡ªbarely missing them. Missing nine butterflies makes the one catch sweeter. On the tenth, successful time, I hit the ground on my side with a dusty thud. I still had enough HP to absorb the blow.
HP 45% (145/325)
EXP: 63% (1313/2100)
Plus, apparently the butterflies were substantially more powerful than other insects, because they were giving me a bit more Experience. Maybe there was a pecking order: flies, beetles, dragonflies, butterflies, those horrifying crickety chirps¡­and then the monstrous insect-behemoths that I had no proof of but was positive had to exist in a fantasy world such as this one. Anyway, the butterfly twitched and died under my paw. Its beautiful yellow wings, spotted with luminous orange, calmly settled onto the dirt. ¡°Nice,¡± said Chora. It must¡¯ve been the first word she¡¯d said in two hours. Now she looked back and forth between me and my catch, expecting something. ¡­Deep down I did wanna eat it, but if it killed me and sent me on my fourth life, Sierra would never let it go, so¡­ I decided to put the butterfly¡¯s body into my Inventory. The way Chora¡¯s eyes dwelled on it told me that humans found butterfly corpses as attractive as I did, even if they were corpses and therefore gross and morbid. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. With that, we forged ahead¡ªand stopped within seconds. From the top of a modest, stony hill, I saw a battle that I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to interrupt. Turning to Chora, I did a cat impression of a human raising a finger to their lips and shushing. Did it look ridiculous? I won¡¯t say that it didn¡¯t. But it made Chora hesitate, so whatever works. She hid behind the rock I was standing on and peeked around it at the clearing. The attacker: a magpie. Twice the size of the sparrows from my old home, lithe and nimble on their feet like a crow, the bird hopped in half circles around their foe: a raccoon. Under the raccoon¡¯s front paws was what appeared to be an orange peel speckled with age and grime. A streak of other human trash stretched behind the raccoon, and clearly most of its valuable leavings had been eaten already. Or stolen, maybe, by the magpie? Though my memories of the battle from earlier were kind of hazy, on account of the absolute mayhem it was, I knew that raccoons got a Skill that made their teeth red-hot and almost drill-like. (Did their teeth literally spin in their skulls? Hopefully not, because that¡¯d be disgusting.) If that raccoon hooked their claws into the magpie and got a decent bite in, the match could end then and there. But clearly the magpie had, in addition to distance, more agility. The magpie hopped forward, stabbed their beak into the raccoon¡¯s side, and fluttered away almost in a single brisk moment¡ªand all the raccoon could do was snap at the air with useless teeth. Chora looked at me, and I locked eyes with her. There was a question in her eyes, the simplest of all questions: not ¡°what should we do?¡± but ¡°¡­should we do?¡± While I didn¡¯t want to get hurt at all right now, at least not by anything more nefarious than passing dragonflies or my own fool self, I did have some pretty insatiable curiosity. Was there anything rascally we could do to these two? Any trap, any means of finding out the true powers of a magpie? Hm, maybe if I looped around and took advantage of their blind spots¡­assuming they had blind spots¡ª Eh? Oh. As I was thinking through that idea, I idly swirled my paw in the air a little. Chora had been watching me, and she took that as a signal¡ªshe was already rubbing her hands together in preparation. Y-you do you, I guess! Then she flicked her right arm to the side, away from me. A ripple of air magic arced away from her hand, flying in a great curve like a boomerang toward the two opponents. It hit the ground with the impact of a small pebble, and less damage. Both the magpie and the raccoon looked its way. They found nothing. Better yet, they were looking a full ninety degrees away from us. Both were cautious, and more importantly, both were still ours to potentially toy with. Y¡¯know, there was a chance¡ªeven if a slim chance¡ªthat I could take them on some way. I was calculating it now. One Leap from me couldn¡¯t clear the distance from here to there, and it couldn¡¯t even get me close enough for a strike right after. Too risky. But! I could make it in a single bound if I was a little larger, like, say, human-sized. As long as my Leap got a little longer to match, that is. But if I failed, I had Chora here as my personal janitor. Sierra¡ªdethroned! I had a new life manager now!! The magpie lunged, pecking the raccoon¡¯s face, and that was when I went for it. Transforming and Leaping at almost the same moment, I hurtled through the air. Yyyeeeeeahrgh! I latched onto the raccoon with ease. And then it became less easy because this raccoon was so much smaller than my humanoid form¡ªit was more like tackling a football. When I say I ¡°latched on,¡± I really mean that I sort of cradled the raccoon from above, caging them with my body. Then I tore into their hide with a Slash! I had kinda missed using all the limbs at my disposal. I growled and scratched with all my might. The raccoon under me tried to defend by curling up and glowing white, but it was no use, and they soon flopped over, tongue lolling, giving up.
Level Up!
Lv. 14 ¡ú Lv. 15
EXP: 0% (5/2250)
HP 100% (353/353)
SP 100% (293/293)
ATK 56
INT 37
DEF 41 (+1!)
WIS 29 (+1!)
SPD 49
New Skill!
Air Cutter: Sends a current of air toward your opponent. SP Cost: 45
Sierra¡¯s Tip: This move relies on INT, not ATK. It¡¯s not going to be that strong for you, to be honest, but it¡¯s good to have a ranged option or two, isn¡¯t it?
That was a lot of info to process when I had a set of magpie talons headed straight for my face. Quickly I swung my head to the side and countered with a near-instinctive Slash. Hoping to cut their midsection, I instead got the legs. A caw of pain filled the air, and the bird swerved away. They landed farther away from me, shaky on their injured feet. The claw marks looked like stripes across both legs, filling me with a rush of animal pride. Not too far behind was Chora, peeking from behind the rock, my own audience. I would¡¯ve turned and given a signal somehow that I was doing okay, but I bet she could tell. Not that her face showed it. I couldn¡¯t resist trying the new Skill. I flicked an air current at the magpie¡ªalmost like Chora would¡ªand nicked their wing. Sierra was right, it really didn¡¯t do much or even get much of a rise out of the magpie. It was so weak, in fact, that it raised the magpie¡¯s spirits. They hopped a bit closer. Here I was with a sample of my next enemy: one magpie out of what could¡¯ve easily been a whole flock. I leaned back on my haunches (which I¡¯m guessing is not the appropriate term when you¡¯re a human, but¡­). And I gave the magpie a death stare. Honestly, it was more like an aggrieved pouty face¡ªI wasn¡¯t used to human faces at all, and unemotive cat skulls made this kind of thing so much simpler. The magpie, in exchange, tilted their head. And flew away¡­ But not before giving me a jackhammer-force peck behind the head. ¡°Raowr!¡± Turning and flailing my claws around did not secure the bird. They escaped, possibly to alert their family and friends. Dang. We really should have stuck to watching from afar.
HP 84% (297/353)
SP 54% (158/293)
I changed into cat form and, with a slow sigh, walked back over to Chora. She stood up, dusted off her shins, and said, ¡°Good work.¡± I was nonplussed. ¡°Meow.¡± ¡°I know. We¡¯ll get back at them soon.¡± At least getting a new Skill felt like a victory. Not only that¡­
Current Location: Maggie Rocks (S.B3)
¡­but it just occurred to me that we were one square away from where two lycanborns got me killed. Werewolves, magpies, and the raccoons from earlier. Three birds with one stone? 53. Puck and the Mansion ¡°I think this is where we need to go.¡± Chora was pointing to a mansion, one stark in the evening¡¯s fading light. Well, only parts of a mansion, but so much remained. Wooden walls had been weathered and streaked, and underneath the arched and broken windows, the planks now looked dark and sagging, perpetually waterlogged. Roof tiles had skated off the parapets. What must have been a weathervane on the central roof was nothing but a stubby iron pole. I could still see that this place had once been joyful and alive, from the eclectic way its architecture slammed together: from an elegant base jutted towers, and from those towers jutted compartments. But whatever had been lost to time left gaping holes filled with dust rubble. It goes without saying that everything was also rife with ivy, creepers, and nests nestled in windows, seemingly in mid-collapse. In front of us now was a small pavilion, the cobblestones overgrown. The decorative pillars to either side of the short road were cracked and crumbling but still tough enough to stand. At the far end of it, just in front of a porch split down the middle and toothy with splinters, was a little stone statue. A gnome? A cherub? Hard to make out, from this distance and with this weathering¡­ It had a cheeky little smile. One that suggested a wink even if it didn¡¯t literally do it. Like it wanted me to dart in. I was ready to set off exploring, but I had to remember that Chora likely didn¡¯t have the same comfort with nighttime and darkness that I had. Also¡­
HP 84% (297/353)
SP 54% (158/293)
I could use a recharge, it was true. Though Air Cutter used less SP than any of my other offensive Skills, using it at all¡ªand then following it up with the Slash that chewed through energy¡ªhad not been ideal, as it turned out. But since I had no more of those horrifying plimpberry pancakes to increase my SP, and nothing but the power of naps to bring up my HP, clearly the best thing I could do was take a good night¡¯s sleep. Aw¡­ Chora could see my disappointment. Or, rather, she could hear it, since I went ¡°mah¡­¡± to express it. ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± she said. ¡°Come on. I¡¯ll tell you about the mansion and we¡¯ll find a good place to sleep.¡± She turned and led us out, and we went leisurely off, closer and closer to the western edge of my Map.
New Sub-Location Added!
¡°That¡¯s the lycanborn mansion,¡± Chora said. ¡°Now it might as well be the magpie mansion. You¡¯d think there would¡¯ve been a movement to preserve the place or rebuild it¡­ Maybe the lycanborn really have been petitioning for that, but they have incredibly bad luck. They don¡¯t deserve that.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Then again, maybe if it was rebuilt, it¡¯d devolve into a tourist attraction.¡± She squinted. ¡°No, it¡¯d be worse.¡± I curved around a boulder. ¡°Meow?¡± ¡°Yeah, there¡¯s places in the mansion that people from the village would use all the time for secret hangouts. Go into the old cellar, clear out the old potatoes or whatever, and have a rave. Or do money laundering.¡± This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. What village? ¡°And I used to think this place was the coolest too,¡± Chora continued. ¡°The summer I turned thirteen. Bayce, Reed and I were all ready to do our first adult things.¡± She snorted. It was the first thing like a laugh I¡¯d ever seen from her. ¡°Really they were all dinky kiddie teenage things. We snuck out and we had plans to do about a million things. We¡¯d be doing scooter tricks, we¡¯d be detectives exploring, we¡¯d find some old treasures the magpies were hoarding, we¡¯d all do shrooms.¡± She paused. ¡°Do you¡­have the cultural context to know what any of those are?¡± Surprisingly, yes. I meowed. ¡°That¡¯s a relief. Well, when we got there, we got cold feet. We¡¯d never seen the mansion in the dead of night before. I¡¯m sure it was just that we were scared, but we swore it was glowing like the moon.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Must be why everyone knows it¡¯s a lycanborn mansion. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised at all if the ones that got you were curious about it. Writing up a petition or something¡­¡± Her words, and thoughts, drifted off. I tried to imagine the three cabinmates as teenagers, as friends, as tight-knit. And I wondered about ¡°the village.¡± And I wondered why in the world we were going west instead of east. Then I put those two lines of thought together. Ah, I thought, looking up at Chora again. So we¡¯re going on more of a journey than I thought. Gotcha. I only hoped that Reed wouldn¡¯t be worried. (Bayce could wait, she had homework.) I also noticed that the chirps weren¡¯t chirping, and didn¡¯t seem to be lurking here at all. If they had, surely I¡¯d have tripped over a den of them hidden among dirt and leaves. Had they all migrated to the south¡ªall of them, like a single unit? Wait! I was being a dingus again. They had gone south, once upon a time, but then they changed tack and went north to Mirror Pond, with the pond fairy¡ªuh, pond woman¡ªthat scary person. Ugh¡­why did I let that mystery linger for so long? Probably because so many mysteries had been floating around me lately when I all I really wanted was to eat well and kill better. Hnnnrgh! I felt like there was another mystery just on the brink of being solved, right there at the probably-lycanborn mansion of centuries past. If I could only talk to Chora and pick her brain more about it. But we had more pressing problems to get to. More pressing and potentially more fun. It was officially night. Cresting a band of rough, high rock, I stood excitedly on the rim. Chora followed after scuffing her knee. I hadn¡¯t realized how heavy her breath had become, but it was true: just walking on uneven terrain was a chore. Hopefully she¡¯d see it as exercise and a means of discipline.
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 23% (7/30)
Our travels were about to get lighter, though. Before us was the open plain where I¡¯d suffered my second death. It looked just as striking as it had when I¡¯d first arrived: an open savannah whose quivering ponds might have been the droplets spread from a flicked paintbrush. With my night vision, everything was gray and ghostly. I turned to Chora. She reached down, pulled out a compass she¡¯d been checking now and then, held it very close to her eyes so she could see anything at all. ¡°We¡¯re only about halfway there,¡± she said in between long breaths. ¡°Will that be alright with you?¡± ¡­I was starting to get concerned about her. She hadn¡¯t eaten, she hadn¡¯t slept, and in the thrill of the moments before now, I hadn¡¯t even paid attention to that! Apparently she sensed the concern in my silence. ¡°Occasional fasting, occasional struggle¡ªit¡¯s good for you. Or, well, that¡¯s not advice for you specifically, cat spirit. I meant the general ¡®you.¡¯ Humans, we cease to struggle and we stop growing.¡± That didn¡¯t make me feel better at all. In fact, it made me more guilty! She hadn¡¯t swigged her waterbottle in quite a while, and I was beginning to realize she must¡¯ve been out of human-safe drinking water. Surely if I¡¯d paid more attention to the sound around me, I¡¯d have heard her stomach tossing and turning like a ship in a storm. Fine. If Chora liked suffering so much, we could suffer hardcore. But we would suffer fast. One moment I was there and the next moment I wasn¡¯t. ¡°Wait,¡± she said, too surprised even to scream it. But I wasn¡¯t slowing down, and now that I was out of Chora¡¯s sight, racing downhill and into the scoop of the valley, I was only getting faster. I began to hear footsteps far behind and above me. First shuffling and tentative, then energetic. Then a whipping of wind. Good. She accepted the challenge. Whatever village lay to the west, she¡¯d have to race me there. 54. Silver Speed I sped through shallows and hardly even noticed it. I liked to imagine that the water flung from my heels was flying directly into Chora¡¯s face, feeding her rage. She wouldn¡¯t be able to beat me in this race. Not unless she pulled out all the magical stops. I was having the time of my life out here. The savannah that was the Drippy Flats wasn¡¯t quite barren at night, but just gray and empty enough to be ghostly. Even now there were animals drinking at the watering holes, a few ducks and geese making lazy circles on the water. Naturally, I circled around a bank and dashed past them far from lazily, and a couple of honks trailed behind me. In my heart, I cackled. Next I wove around a couple of old grazing insomniac goats, rounding the turn with ease. But then my heart lurched. A truly terrifying sound clipped my ear. Chora was using her wind techniques to boost herself along¡ªbut that wasn¡¯t the problem. The problem was how close she was. How¡¯d that even happen?! Looking over my shoulder, I spotted her a mere three meters away, dashing along the flats with bounds far longer than any Earth humans could achieve. Miraculously, she hadn¡¯t twisted her ankles either! Soon I would discover the answer. I zigzagged around an upcoming goat. Right afterward, behind me came a sound like a fist against a drum. When I looked over my shoulder again, that goat had been sent flying. I was going around physical obstacles and Chora was going through them. There was no soft heart for the animal kingdom there. Chora was in it to win it, just like I¡¯d wanted her to be. And evidently it¡¯d require some strategic thinking on my part. My attention blinked back to the path ahead of me. A goat casually walked into my path. With a tiny yelp, I made a split-second change, got low¡ª Baseball-skidded underneath the goat¡¯s legs, then got right back up and kept dashing. Another drumbeat sounded behind me. ¡°Me-e-eh!¡± cried the poor goat. They thudded onto the ground. Darnit. I had gained no ground, only held my position. In case you¡¯re wondering, yes, I was holding back on my Leaps for the final stretch. It didn¡¯t seem fair to pull them out now¡­well, it hadn¡¯t seemed fair until Chora convinced me she could actually win this. But now I recalculated, consulting my Map and my Stats. We had about a third of this journey left to go.
SP 54% (158/293)
Skills
Leap SP Cost: 45
Each Leap carried me several meters forward. I had enough SP in me to use it three times. But¡­if I took off from a run on flat land, that would only give me an advantage for so long. My ear twitched¡ªthe chopping swish of Chora¡¯s pumping arms was getting a little closer. I had not held my position after all. She was gaining. And we still had a third of this sprint to clear! Good thing we didn¡¯t bet anything on this. But instead of giving up, or having mere fun, I decided to work at it¡ªhave fun with real plotting and determination. Because victory was sweet. My first thought: why make a run for it in a straight line? No flat plain was completely level. Most of the trees, boulders, and other obstacles that I otherwise might¡¯ve stumbled across hadn¡¯t been in my path, but instead to the sides. In fact, a stubby bush passed in my peripheral vision just as that realization hit me. Without hesitation, I veered off toward the nearest tree. It was far enough off my path that once I reached it, Chora would be just a hair away from a tie with me. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Once I reached the base of it, I almost turned right back. A spark of primal fear¡ªthere was an anthill at the base. ¡­Nah, whatever, those ants weren¡¯t red and we were like a half-hour away from the hotel. I stomped through the anthill, then skittered onto the tree bark, where several lines of ants were squashed mid-march.
EXP: 6% (134/2250)
Aw, darnit, now I had another thing to feel guilty about! I kept forgetting that most insects didn¡¯t provide enough Experience to be worth it! Now I was the murderer of a whole civilization, and for what?! ¡ªOh yeah, here I was at the top of the tree. Not far off to my right, Chora continued dashing, not missing a beat. So neither would I. I jumped to the highest branch that was sturdy enough to support my Leap-off. This was a young tree, and I couldn¡¯t have been more than four meters off the ground, but the difference was noticeable, and it was about to get exponential. Feeling like the whole tree was wavering below me, I took a brief moment to get my legs in position, and¡ªLeap! I flew. For an incredibly long moment, I was a flying streak in the dim starlight. I was airborne for long enough that part of me wanted to paddle my limbs¡ªmy brain halfway convinced I had to be underwater. Then my senses began to return to me. Quickly my mind alighted on the next part of the strategy. After all, I hadn¡¯t won yet, not even close. We had a quarter¡¯s worth of distance left. The tree-lined western edge of the flats had only just appeared on the horizon. I wasn¡¯t about to focus on Chora. All I needed was my own speed and distance, and to secure that, I needed to decide where I was going to land next. Any trees down there? Okay, I had to stop looking straight down because everything there would obviously just whiz past me. My eyes roved across the sights ahead, had trouble figuring out which ones would actually be underfoot. Sadly (or happily) no trees were upcoming to break my fall (or have me crashing into them). Maybe that rock? No, it was too far¡ª (At this point, I was less than a second away from landing.) Ah! Another goat! Not as cool or stable as a tree or a rock! But maybe workable! I landed feet-first on the goat¡¯s back. My claws briefly, indulgently dug in as I prepared another Leap. But it was alright. The goat would have neat battle scars to show to their friends. ¡°M-m-e-e-e-e-eh!¡± followed me out. I Leaped and felt the body of the beast stagger behind me. Now, that was how you harassed animals.
EXP: 11% (244/2250)
The Experience yield wasn¡¯t amazing. The distance increase the goat-boost gave me wasn¡¯t amazing either. But as I completed the second Leap and landed full-gallop, I realized that no trees or rocks were incoming. But a bull at a watering hole was. With a brief splash into the shallows, I jumped onto the hind leg of the massive bovine. Immediately he roused, stamped. I didn¡¯t slow down, and as the bull began to back up and shake me off, I was already up on his back, racing toward the pair of horns pointing coincidentally and symbolically toward my goal¡­ Leap!
HP 81% (287/353)
OW! I shouldn¡¯t have done that on the pointy parts. The bull harrumphed behind me, but no EXP gain meant I¡¯d served him nothing like a defeat. Still, I took off, so I was happy. And in midflight, I spared a look behind me. Hoho. I knew Chora was still back there marathon-running, wasn¡¯t she? Gunning it like that was gonna¡ª Where the heck was Chora? My head swiveled sideways in a moment of panic, and then I caught sight of her. She was still keeping up with me! But her technique had changed, and she was sweating bullets. Her arms had gone slack, and instead of surrounding herself with gusts of air, she seemed to be jetting it from her heels, leaving dust and torn grass hovering in the air behind her. ¡­Well, I guessed this was what I¡¯d wanted. Evidently Chora had totally exhausted herself and pushed her body and skills to the limit, just to win this thing. She deserved a gold star! But also probably a hospital visit. I landed, and my legs rolled right back into my stride. With only enough SP remaining to shoot off a Guard or Meditate, I had no more tricks up my sleeve. All I could do now was keep darting towards the exit in a straight line. Actually, in my moment of surprise, I¡¯d slightly miscalculated where Chora was in relation to me. She was slightly ahead, and her speed was ticking up faster. I made a mild diversion to the left, raced up a boulder, and jumped off. It did not help me at all. Now I knew for sure that Chora had locked in the win, and my frustration at losing was starting to be overshadowed by¡­pride? Pride in my liege, was that what this was? Chora disappeared into the trees. I was two seconds behind her, but two seconds was too long. We were on the home stretch: a dirt path well maintained by whoever lived in this upcoming village. And we were only speeding down the path for mere seconds until¡ª We broke through the trees, and I stopped myself right on the edge of a stone stair. A very very long staircase, next to a very very long ramp, stretched and waved down and down into a village dotted with lights the color of the fireflies. Chora stood next to me, panting the heaviest pants I had ever heard. I turned to her, and she collapsed onto her back. Thankfully, her back hit some fairly soft grass and mulch. Half a minute later, as I was wondering whether she¡¯d just fallen asleep, she ever-so-slowly pulled her arms up, anchored the hands underneath her, and pushed her body, shaking with exhaustion, into an upright sitting position. Her legs, like slugs, slithered until she was cross-legged. The sweat was sliding off of her. She still looked as tired as anything, but now she was returning to a state of calm. And she gazed down into the village with what I assumed was a kind of pride of her own. We didn¡¯t say anything, just sat in silence like comrades. 55. Lack of a Moon As Chora and I sat together on the highest stone stair of what seemed to me like an absurdly long pathway to the village, I looked around at the night in silence, and I wondered¡­ Wait, if I had won that race back there, wouldn¡¯t I have gained Experience? And how much? Chora seemed good at this, at least when she really pushed herself, so¡­a lot? That¡¯d make sense, right? Huh? ¡­System huh?
Error: ¡°Huh¡± is an Invalid Request.
Something didn¡¯t seem right about that. I didn¡¯t push it, though. Eventually, Chora exhaled long and loud enough that I knew she was about to speak. I turned to her. ¡°That was a good run,¡± she said. ¡°Now I¡¯m about ready to get some food and rest. Was¡­that your plan?¡± ¡°Meow!¡± I said. I had no confidence that she could see me nodding. Nights were deep with no moon in the sky, and¡­I couldn¡¯t even remember a night rich with moonlight. Maybe their moon was dim. Maybe I needed to watch the sky and its signs more. ¡°I thank you for your wisdom, spirit.¡± My nekomata form might have blushed in bashfulness at that. Actually, I physically shrank back a little. I very much wanted to find a way to tell her that all that excess formality did nothing for me! In fact, the more she used it, the more uncomfortable I became with it. Weirdly, I had enjoyed it at first, but now¡­since I was becoming a little less cat and steadily more human, it just felt like dishonesty, like we needed to be equals. ¡°Well,¡± she said, standing up, ¡°let¡¯s be on our¡ª¡± ¡­Why was she stopping mid-word, mid-movement? ¡°Crap, I just thought of something,¡± she said in an abashed whisper. ¡°You have another soulbound form. One that looks more human¡ªa cat-human.¡± I meowed. ¡°Maybe it would be best if you assumed that form and¡­wore a hat. You know, over the ears. And if you kept your tail low and unobtrusive¡­or maybe you have a coat to hide it under¡­¡± Suddenly she broke off and hissed to herself. ¡°Crap again. I¡¯m making this too convoluted. Okay,¡± she said with more determination and volume, ¡°you can come with me to the village as you are. But you may want to stick to the shadows. A-assuming that you are a less sociable spirit. People will want to get to know you, ask a lot of questions that¡­frankly you can¡¯t answer.¡± Uh, I couldn¡¯t argue with any of that. Staying away from the light sounded like a good idea to me¡ªthat and averting my shiny, shiny eyes whenever someone came close. And if I was caught, hopefully I could just kind of skitter away and they¡¯d¡­uhh¡­forget about me? ¡°It¡¯s not a huge deal,¡± Chora added. ¡°It¡¯s just that we¡¯re here to stop and rest. Not much more than that. And we¡¯ll just eat in our room at the inn, after you sneak in. Does that sound good to you, spirit?¡± More stuff I couldn¡¯t argue with! I was starting to feel excited again, and my tail wobbled with anticipation. Not far from us was the mysterious village, and far beyond that village was, I had to assume, the rest of Vencia. It was too dark and distant to be anything but indistinct wavy hills on a black horizon, even to my eyes. What mattered was the small town below, a place that must¡¯ve had less than five hundred people. I focused my senses, and soft cries of farm animals¡ªcattle, ducks, the now-familiar sheep¡ªreached us even up here. So did chatter from humans, but not as much as I was used to by a long shot. ¡°Okay,¡± she said. ¡°Let¡¯s get started. Welcome to the village of Outlast. It¡¯s mostly farmers and artisans. I always like stopping by.¡± And we made our way down the incredible stairs. I felt bad for the humans who lived here and had to climb these things. I mean, I felt bad for myself too, given that I¡¯d run a little marathon just earlier, but¡­not enough to take the less taxing ramp. These stairs were so old and well-worn that the middle of each one sagged, and I could see distinct impressions of footsteps piled on top of each other¡ªfeet upon feet upon feet. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. When we left the stairs and hit the winding road, smells started coming to me. The windows of houses were wide open. People must¡¯ve been settling down to dinner: smoked chicken and fish, roasted fruits I couldn¡¯t name, nuts, steaming vegetables, and a strong hint of beer. Huh, and here I¡¯d thought it had to be midnight by now. The road was as wide as one and a half car lanes, close-packed between wooden buildings of different heights. There were no towers except a couple I saw a little distance away. They reminded me of farmyards. Silos? Beside every door was a welcoming paper lantern, lit with a lightning-bug fire. But hardly anyone was walking the streets except us. Still, I dutifully kept to the shadows, stayed close to Chora¡¯s feet. We rounded a bend, and I could see that eventually this road would hit a huge center plaza. That plaza would, like the center of a wheel, split into a dozen other meandering paths, some upslope, some downslope, all lined with buildings crammed together. Unlike every Earth plaza I¡¯d ever heard of, this one was full of life¡­domestic animal life. Was that a sheep pen, a row of stabled horses? But instead of heading in, Chora stopped us short. We had to be next to some kind of potion shop or pharmacy, since I could see glass bottles glittering from behind a darkened window. But her attention was on a bulletin board. ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­might as well check here briefly¡­¡± It was just lousy with things I couldn¡¯t read, white and dull tan papers competing with each other with all the advertising brashness of toothpaste. Chora knew I couldn¡¯t read it, though, and explained that it was a general news board, one of many. ¡°People might report missing objects¡ªwhich is what we¡¯re most interested in¡ªbut they also mention special events, holidays, guild meetings, council assemblies. They might even be announcing¡­¡± She got lost in thought as she searched for some specific item and, after several seconds, didn¡¯t find it. ¡°Ah, maybe in a few weeks.¡± ¡°Maow?¡± ¡°They have a huge festival at the end of basically every summer to mark the Coming of the Moon. Do you know what the moon is?¡± W-wh¡­ Yes, Chora, I knew what the moon was, but it kind of made sense that she would assume I might not¡­because never had I ever seen one in Vencia¡¯s sky. This whole time! And now its absence was suddenly disturbing! I mean, the sun and the moon are such an important pair of opposites on Earth. What did Vencians have to replace it? More stars? Well, Chora had just given me both the question and the answer. Vencia did have a moon, it just didn¡¯t appear that often. ¡°The moon is a rock that orbits our planet,¡± explained First-Grade Teacher Chora. ¡°I assume you don¡¯t have one orbiting the spirit world, do you¡­¡± I shook my head, but my ¡°no¡± was deeper than Chora could imagine. ¡°Well, it¡¯s like a glorified comet, and around the time when summer transitions to fall, it decides to start reflecting light.¡± She narrowed her eyes as she added, ¡°It¡¯s also the one night when lycanborns who go outside involuntarily transform. If you want, I can set aside time to serve as your bodyguard that night¡­¡± I, uh, genuinely appreciated that, but the threat was so abstract and so far in the future that I didn¡¯t feel any gratitude about it. I meowed as if I did, though. Chora seemed lost in thought again for a few moments. Then she laughed. At first I thought it was a sneeze. ¡°That was so bad,¡± she said, half to herself. ¡°Sorry, spirit, I¡¯m remembering the first Coming of the Moon festival I went to. It was that same summer when everyone in the cabin went to the mansion thinking we¡¯d do all these cool things. Reed, Bayce and I, we all got together and decided we¡¯d play instruments and form a band. Mind you, this was two weeks before the festival.¡± I blinked up at Chora, already imagining all the ways that could¡¯ve gone wrong. Maybe this was presumptuous of me, but¡­most of them involved a young Bayce falling over. ¡°We played the¡ª¡± Chora snort-laughed again, this time hiding it poorly behind one hand. ¡°Sorry, it¡¯s not even that funny. We played the¡ª¡± She chuckled and shook her head. ¡°Okay¡­we thought it was amazingly clever at the time. You have to keep that in mind, or else it¡¯s not funny. Please don¡¯t look down on me for laughing, okay?¡± I meowed in the affirmative, but I could make her no promises. She took a deep breath and relaxed her shoulders. ¡°Okay¡­so Reed played a reed, Bayce played the bass, and I did vocals.¡± ¡­That was it?! I didn¡¯t know what Chora wanted me to do here. She took a dramatic pause¡ªas in one to be filled with laughter¡ªbut my cat vocal cords didn¡¯t even have a cackling, hyena-laugh-type thing inside of them. And I was not going to Morph for one instant just to give her canned laughter! Anyway, I did like seeing her laugh. At first, it¡¯d seemed so unlike her, but¡­now that I saw it in action, so to speak, it felt right. Like she should¡¯ve been doing this more. Like there were two sides to her, and the disciplined, stiff one had dominated in way too much of her life. Or maybe I just thought that way because I had no discipline whatsoever and, when left to my own devices, made even worse jokes. Still, I had to respond. Now, before Chora interpreted my silence as awkward disapproval. Instead, I would turn this into well-choreographed disapproval. I shook my head, put one paw over my face, and went, ¡°Murrr¡­¡± ¡°Yes,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m with you. We were disappointments to our families that night. All three of us.¡± For once, I knew she was being tongue-in-cheek. ¡°We only knew one ¡®real song,¡¯ so in between renditions of ¡®Toothpicks¡¯ (a song for babies), we played that ¡®real song¡¯ over and over again and pretended like we were ¡®improvving¡¯ and ¡®jamming.¡¯ It was really sad, and it should never be repeated.¡± You didn¡¯t film this? I¡¯d ask someday. Or loot Reed¡¯s basement and find a secret cache marked ¡°NEVER TO BE VIEWED.¡± 56. Good Old Feathered Hospitality As Chora went leafing and pawing through the fliers on the Outlast bulletin board, I caught sight of my first villager. She was an older woman in a bright-red shawl and a red-and-black dress, coming up from the plaza. It had begun to drizzle the slightest bit, but like us, she had no umbrella. Her eyes lingered on Chora, in a way I couldn¡¯t read. Was she suspicious? Or did she recognize her? Possibly both¡ªbut I really hoped not. The only reason she didn¡¯t stare at me, I figured, was because I had hopped out of her view, to the other side of Chora¡¯s shin. ¡°Let¡¯s see if there¡¯s anything that went missing¡­¡± Chora was still looking through. ¡°A missing umbrella¡­magpies aren¡¯t likely to steal that. They typically want bright and shiny. Ah, a missing parakeet, that¡¯s too bad. Well, I¡¯ll ask people we come across too. Like that one.¡± Suddenly she pointed at the woman who¡¯d appeared in the corner of her eye. Even I, an impolite cat, saw how grossly impolite that was, especially by the way the woman wrinkled her face afterward. ¡°Wait¡ªsorry, I meant like that fine person.¡± Chora abruptly slammed her arm down and turned to face her. ¡°Good evening to you, ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°¡­Well, good evening,¡± the woman replied, sounding¡­bemused? She slowly approached us, and I shrank back further, closing my glimmering eyes so she¡¯d have no reason to look my way. ¡°Talking to the spirits.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± said Chora. ¡°I mean, yes.¡± Her body tensed, and I could tell she was kicking herself inside for correcting mistakes that weren¡¯t actually mistakes. But the older woman was matter-of-fact. ¡°You¡¯re Reed¡¯s friend.¡± ¡°¡­You still remember me?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± She sounded both bemused and offended. ¡°You used to run around everywhere, nobody could forget you!¡± Chora manufactured a laugh. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t remember you at all.¡± The woman hummed. ¡°Brat.¡± There was a pause. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, ma¡¯am.¡± I heard a hit and flinched¡ªbut then I realized it was just a hand patting Chora on the shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m kidding,¡± said the other woman. Any tension in her voice was gone now, or so it seemed to me. ¡°You were very well-behaved those summers. A lot of energy, though. And with all that running, I¡¯m surprised you paused long enough to remember Outlast at all.¡± ¡°Actually, I do martial arts now. Put all that energy to good use.¡± ¡°Really! Are you a grand master?¡± ¡°Uh¡­lyen-chunst doesn¡¯t have grand masters. There are ranks.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll get there, whatever the highest rank is.¡± I chanced a look at the other woman. She was smiling, her teeth glittering. Meanwhile, Chora still seemed stiff. ¡°I don¡¯t even know if I¡¯ll go for it yet¡­¡± Chora said, her voice falling to a mumble. Then she spoke up again. ¡°Wait, actually, ma¡¯am, may I ask you a question?¡± ¡°Call me Arlene.¡± ¡°Arlene,¡± she said. I peeked up and saw a slight nod. ¡°So¡­have you heard about the magpies recently?¡± ¡°What about ¡®em?¡± ¡°Them¡­stealing anything.¡± ¡°Leave ¡®em alone. It¡¯s never valuable.¡± ¡°Wait, but¡ªdidn¡¯t they steal someone¡¯s fancy wagon, way back?¡± ¡°Yeah, and he deserved it. I think if it were anything serious, Murder would¡¯ve torn their guts out by now. They¡¯d all be intestines hanging from the rafters of¡­of whatever kinda bungalow they like to live in. Oh, look!¡± Her last sentence caught me off guard. I decided not to fight the instinct to obey, so I looked around, then straight up. And there it was: a cluster of magpies. They were standing on a wire holding several smaller lanterns, one right above the window full of potion bottles. Speak of the devil, I figured. ¡°Hi!¡± said Arlene, waving. ¡°See, isn¡¯t that funny?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a little scary,¡± Chora said. ¡°Maybe I shouldn¡¯t be talking like that.¡± ¡°Oh, hush.¡± Arlene waved her off. ¡°If they spoke our tongue, we¡¯d know, because they wouldn¡¯t shut up.¡± You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. I was getting a little scared, wondering if the birds, like the raccoons, were preparing to retaliate and pluck my very own guts out. But the more I watched them, the more they seemed to go about their own business. Some turned to one another and made soft caws while others hopped off and flew elsewhere in Outlast. ¡°They live here like anyone else,¡± said Arlene, ¡°and they have as much a right to our spare change as anyone else.¡± I heard a clatter¡ªturned to see a magpie on the road clutching a dropped coin in their beak. They twitched their head around, then flew to the stars. ¡­If they collected every single coin that ever fell to the ground around here, then Chora would be right. They really would have a dazzling hoard of it. One that I could fight them for. ¡°See? They¡¯re funny little birds.¡± Chora sighed. ¡°Man, this puts me in a bad spot. I told a friend that the magpies at the lycanborn mansion were no doubt guarding some sort of amazing treasure.¡± Arlene sounded offended again. ¡°Who told you that crap?¡± ¡°No one!¡± Chora cried. ¡°I-I just made it up based on several things I heard in the air when I was on vacation here! And now I¡¯ve wasted everyone¡¯s time.¡± ¡°Oh, honey, it¡¯s not worth flying off the handle for.¡± Arlene paused. ¡°I think you¡¯re just tired. You could use some hot soup.¡± ¡°Oh, uh¡ªyeah¡ªwe were just heading out for that. To an inn.¡± Arlene laughed. ¡°An inn? No, no, no. That¡¯s not the way to do it at all. Save your money. You know full well there¡¯s tons of us happy to take you in.¡± I saw Chora shaking her head. ¡°Really, ma¡¯am¡ªArlene¡ªI hate to be in anyone¡¯s debt.¡± ¡°Debt?! That¡¯s not how this works, honey!¡± Now I had another reason to tense up. Some kind of human cultural mess was happening before me (and above me), and I didn¡¯t know what to make of it. Arlene wanted Chora to eat her soup, but Chora didn¡¯t want to eat her soup because she might be expected to¡­feed her soup later? To pay off the soup debt. I did some cultural calculations in my mind. Using context clues including Bayce¡¯s need to save up for wizard college and Reed¡¯s college professor mother, and extending that to Chora, I surmised that all three cabinmates had to be¡­middle-class! So Chora could probably avoid soup. But if she incurred a soup debt that started to multiply, that could quickly overwhelm her family. Wait, did she even have a family? Never mind all that. Anyway, even if ¡°soup debt¡± wasn¡¯t a real thing, I wouldn¡¯t want her to get on the bad side of gossipy villagers either. Because that was a human-culture data point in my mind too: that small towns breed gossip. What would be most well-behaved of Chora to do? Should she accept the invitation, or book it out of here? And what could I possibly do to influence that and end this situation before it devolved into some kind of argument?! I must¡¯ve been muddling through brainstorming for way longer than I thought, because soon a door had clattered shut, and Chora and I were standing alone. ¡­Ugh. I missed the end of the conversation again. And this time I could understand every word too, so I had no excuse. Looking up, I saw Chora shaking her head, staring toward what I assumed was Arlene¡¯s door. ¡°Autism,¡± she said. ¡°Every time I think I¡¯m out, it pulls me back in.¡± I blinked, uncomprehending, for several moments. Then I thought, Autism exists in fantasy worlds?! Wait, I thought-added, correcting myself. Of course it exists wherever human brains exist. It¡¯s just weird that they have the same word for it. Not a minute later, Arlene returned with a piping hot ceramic bowl of soup in her arms. Yes, ¡°in her arms¡±¡ªit was that big. ¡°If you won¡¯t come in, I bring the party to you,¡± she said, gracing Chora with another smile. Chora said, ¡°I will pay you¡ª¡± ¡°No you won¡¯t¡ª¡± ¡°¡ªwith a full stomach.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a good girl.¡± Chora hefted the bowl. Just as I began to worry that it¡¯d all go sloshing down the road, she slowly crouched, lowering the bowl to her ankles, and smoothly, smokelessly Inventorized it. ¡°Oh! Forgot to give you spoons and such.¡± ¡°No need. The inn will have them. You¡¯ve done far more than enough. Thank you for all your help, and I wish you a wonderful night.¡± Arlene tut-tutted again. ¡°You are just painfully well-behaved, child. Somebody raised you right. You take care.¡± I could not for the life of me puzzle out the rightness or wrongness of Chora¡¯s behavior in accepting the meal but refusing to enter Arlene¡¯s home. Not until I looked up at her shoulders and saw them relax again. The door closed. With a deep sigh, she said, ¡°Alright, let¡¯s head to the inn. I don¡¯t like having long social interactions sprung on me like that¡­¡± *** I flitted through the door and into the darkest corner of a kind of hotel lobby-slash-family room. Finding a dark corner wasn¡¯t that hard. This place was lit by candlelight. ¡°One room and one bed for one night, please. No, no dinner necessary.¡± The man behind the desk handed her keys and pointed past the empty couches and a felt-topped table, down a hall. It was hardly wider than Chora, its walls lined with candles. Doors were so packed together that the rooms inside had to be absurdly thin¡­ Or magic. Our door opened up into an impossibly large suite. It was still not much bigger than a typical dining room, but that suited me just fine. Muted colors, a bookshelf, and a portrait of a stately man hanging over the ready-lit fireplace made the room feel grander, self-satisfied. There was even a kitchenette area, though that was nightmarishly small¡ªa single pillar-like counter with a single stovetop eye on it, below an I-shaped cabinet. The single bed sat at the other end on a rusty-looking but nonetheless regal bed frame. I was so glad Chora would have a big plush mattress like that to sleep on. She wandered over to the deep-red rug in the middle of the room and plopped down there. I smacked my paw against the bed frame and wailed. ¡°I am not sleeping down here,¡± she said between steady breaths. ¡°I just hadn¡¯t realized until now how tired I was.¡± After another three sighs, she turned to me. I was sitting between the frame and her head, feeling calm and patient. ¡°Why don¡¯t you sleep at the foot of the bed? It¡¯s too big and soft to waste on just me.¡± I immediately thought back to the huge bed back at Reed¡¯s that Chora¡¯s small body was ¡°wasting,¡± but whatever. ¡°¡­Ah, right, the soup. I¡¯ll get that ready.¡± She rose with a grunt, took the soup out of her Inventory, and¡­fell back down with another grunt. I waited. She was asleep. I waited a little longer. Maybe she was just resting her eyes. But they¡¯re never just resting their eyes. 57. Chicken Soup for the System A white pane of sunlight shone through the window. Proof that it was well past morning and Chora still hadn¡¯t woken up. She looked so peaceful snoring on that rug. Such a complete and total counterpoint to me. I was sitting on the other side of the room, ¡°enjoying¡± my own little puzzle. In front of me were three things: a chair, a ceramic bowl full of soup, and a pathetically tiny stovetop. I looked back and forth: chair, soup, stove, chair, soup, stove¡­ Somewhere in here was a way for me, in SP-conserving cat form, to use the chair as a stepladder, set the soup on the stovetop, and twist the knob to power that burner. Did I have to do any of this? No, but this chickeny-smelling soup would no doubt be more appetizing than the two koi corpses I still had on me, and Chora would appreciate the smell more.
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
Getting a little bit too hasty.
Augh! Just when I had the bowl on the burner and was on the cusp of putting the heat on high! I almost flew backward off the chair.
Doesn¡¯t your junkyard of human knowledge tell you that heating ceramics too fast is going to crack them?
I narrowed my eyes. You mean you don¡¯t know what¡¯s in there?
It¡¯s a grab bag. Anyway, lower that heat.
Begrudgingly, I did as she suggested, and a little orange flame began wavering below the soup. Hm¡­what brought Sierra here anyway? Why did she choose to intervene now when I was cooking, and not earlier, when I was fighting random wilderness monsters?
You can figure this out. Use context clues!
Or you can just tell me the answer! You know, like you just did. Finish the streak!
There¡¯s a Wisdom point in it for ya!
¡­Okay, I guess I can try it. Sierra seemed to do a lot of things just because they amused her. She messed with me, gave me incomplete information, and gave every impression of chuckling behind the scenes. And yet she also wanted me to succeed, to make other people happy or something. She was also an Arkmagus, and while I didn¡¯t really understand what that was, I did know that one thing they did was sit in cloud palaces lording it over the living. Also, once an artisan gave them a golden sword.
But we didn¡¯t exactly use it to fight raccoons.
She was saying that¡­um¡­I dunno¡­that the Arkmagi had never done what I was doing?
Exactly!
Wait, that¡¯s actually it? As I chatted with Sierra, I kept my eyes trained on the soup as closely as I could, given the boxes in the way. It was beginning to bubble now. I asked her, If you¡¯re my mentor but you have no experience doing mortal stuff, then why didn¡¯t you ever go get some?
We¡¯re not as boundlessly powerful as you seem to think we are. Hence, we¡¯re gods and goddesses with an asterisk. Really we should be called Arkmagi full-stop, but we add the ¡°god¡± label to feel more high and mighty.
¡­This doesn¡¯t seem like something you should be admitting to your creation.
You never revered me anyway. That¡¯s what I like about you! Also, stir that.
Oh no. First of all, to access the cup full of big spoons, I¡¯d have to reach over the stovetop and hope my cat paws could grab it and not just drop it in the soup. Alternatively, to access the drawer full of small spoons, I¡¯d need to open a cabinet above the stove. A cabinet with no handle: paw-proof. Second, why would I need to stir something like this? I knew baseline science, I knew this heat would eventually get to every part of the soup!
Culinary science is a different beast, lying in its own realm beyond conventional laws of physics.
Maybe Sierra and I had reached an understanding today: I actually knew when she was prodding me and when she was simply being genuine. Probably.
You¡¯d be surprised, though, soup will build up on the edges and burn.
Several seconds later, I gave in with a sigh. I changed into a catgirl, reached effortlessly above the soup, grabbed a big wooden spoon, and changed back.
SP 98% (288/293)
Even a negligible dip in SP meant less to use against the magpies today! But I gritted my teeth. This would be worth it. Holding the spoon fiercely between two paws, standing on the chair, I rose, wobbling atop my hind legs. I held the spoon over my head, like a dagger. Then, slowly, carefully, I reached into the brew and stirred. This was the toughest workout I¡¯d suffered through in a while. But it was actually working. I was stirring at an awkward angle¡ªheck, everything about this was awkward¡ªbut the soup was indeed moving around. And if not for the pain currently shooting up my hind legs, watching all the meat and vegetables swirl would¡¯ve been downright soothi¡ª ¡°Maow!¡± I slipped, the chair slipped with me, and the spoon went flying out of my grip.
HP 97% (341/353)
Down on the ground, the edge of the chair¡¯s seat got my tail! I crawled forward and yanked it out. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. A second later, I heard the spoon clack against the wall. Turning just in time, I saw it nosedive behind the bookshelf. Hotel management was gonna have to get that one. I sighed through my nose. Probably I¡¯d need to turn off the stove soon. Good, because I was hungry, and surely Chora would be. Now, set the chair back up and¡­ The bookcase. Something about it was giving me a sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu. I squinted at it. Had I seen it before? Was Reed¡¯s bookshelf at the end of that upstairs cabin hallway the same kind? Had I seen it on Earth? But no, it just looked ordinary, if old and prestigious. I hastily hopped onto the back of the chair¡ªthe whole thing was sideways, and it jolted under my weight¡ªand turned the stove off. Then I raced toward the bookcase and got a closer look. Somehow the feeling of d¨¦j¨¤ vu faded almost to nothing when I came this close. Wait, wait¡­there it was. It was just one book. I pawed it out. Oh, I should¡¯ve known. It looked exactly like one of the books Sierra had shown me in my death throes, the one with the cover of gray stitching. Sigh. She certainly worked in mysterious ways. And some of them not so mysterious, like straight-up giving out cooking advice. I was beginning to hear Chora shift on the carpet, and beginning to not hear snoring. Good! I didn¡¯t want her to be in a coma. And I would definitely need some help reading this book. Unless the lavish illustrations were enough? It opened to a gorgeous spread of grasses and cattails that looked like cascades, all enveloping fairies who peeked out with smiles and glimmering eyes. They reminded me a little of that cheeky stone statue I saw outside of the mansion. ¡­No, that d¨¦j¨¤ vu feeling wasn¡¯t in this book. It was in one specific page. Behind me, Chora was standing up. I had the book open to the right page just as she came close enough to stand over me. ¡°Good morning, spirit,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about¡­wait, should I be looming over you right now?¡± I didn¡¯t mind. My ¡°personal space¡± is less a sphere of space around me and more a concept: if you¡¯re more than half an inch away from me and you don¡¯t pick me up, you¡¯re fine. ¡°I smell some¡­¡± But I immediately distracted her by bashing my paw on the page I¡¯d opened to. ¡°Oh, you must want me to read this. Sure,¡± she said, crouching beside me. ¡°It¡¯s a poem called ¡®Princesses of the Pond.¡¯¡± And beside it was another amazing illustration. This one showed four dancing fairies colored with pencil and pastel, descending in some sort of four-color tornado. Chora read aloud:
A woman in white appeared at waters bleak, Loved in the west among the fawns and sheep. When she was born, the world let down its leaves And made them jewels to rest at royal feet. A woman in green was born in sable flood Where northern hawks and lizards she adored, So when the winter tried to freeze their blood, They frolicked all, and she became their lord. A woman in gold walked out from eastern clime While trees were screaming spring, their blossoms bright, And where she trod, the petals changed to wine As she bid every squirrel sing in rhyme. The final woman clad in blue you¡¯ll meet Stirring summer krigries from the south, Her spirit raging with a lightning heat, Her book unwritten and her future doubt.
Gently she set the book down. I yelped. ¡°What?¡± she asked. I yelped. ¡°You know this poem?¡± ¡°Maow.¡± ¡°You like this poem.¡± ¡°Maow¡­¡± ¡°You like the people in this poem.¡± ¡°Mya-a-ow¡­¡± Chora pointed at the first line. ¡°Which line? Um¡­you mean this one?¡± My eye twitched. What were we even talking about here?! Okay, so my gut was telling me that this poem had to be about me and everyone else in Reed¡¯s cabin. But that would mean there were lots of details that didn¡¯t make sense. Just going down the list, none of us had so far worn white, none of us were royal, and Bayce was certainly no ¡°lord of hawks and lizards.¡± Or was that supposed to be Chora? Her wind stuff could probably warm up some animals. And the last one¡­that was scary. Either that had to be me, or that couldn¡¯t be me. ¡°Clad in blue¡± sounded like the Sapphire Queen I¡¯d seen before. Maybe the ¡°krigries¡± were the insects that she had summoned and I had foolishly stepped on. But unless Sierra literally had my life written out for me (¡­and okay, maybe she did), wasn¡¯t my own future doubt too? Ugh, it was making my head hurt for no good reason. This seemed like a sign from Sierra, and yet nothing was practical about this! Why didn¡¯t she at least send me some nonfiction, huh?
Error: Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata is unavailable. Please try again later when you¡¯re making food again. She misses the smell of home cooking.
Well, okay, forget you too, then. Wait, does Sierra even eat? D-does she¡­wish she could eat, and fight rodents, and live the dream vicariously through me?! I snapped myself out of these pointless thoughts. Chora had been writing in a scratchpad for the last I-didn¡¯t-know-how-long. She mumbled, ¡°I think this is a book of local legends¡­DeGalle might wanna hear about this¡­¡± ¡°Meow?¡± ¡°No,¡± she said, ¡°I don¡¯t have any idea if we¡¯ll actually meet her, but if we do, it couldn¡¯t hurt to point her toward people and books that actually have any idea what they¡¯re doing. Just be prepared, I would say.¡± I nodded. Then I pointed toward the stove. Lucky for us, the soup was still steaming even after I¡¯d abandoned it for this long. Maybe the bowl held the heat. That¡¯s the power of ceramics. At that, Chora gave me a deep nod, almost a bow, of thanks. ¡°Thank you for looking out for me. Now, let¡¯s eat.¡± *** Seeing so many humans all at once wasn¡¯t quite scary, but it was bizarre, after all this time. Crowds of humans trekked through the winding roads of Outlast, and on the wider road passing behind the inn, I spotted some pushing carts, others letting magic do the pushing for them, some leading sheep or ducks or chickens or even huge, boulevard-blocking cows down the way Non-farmyard birds darted underfoot, and the sight of sparrows sent my mind running back to that poem from the hour before. All of that and we hadn¡¯t even left the inn yet. Chora and I were down in the lobby, but the trip to the mansion was getting delayed again. Not that I minded. With the inn nearly empty and drenched in moody shadows aside from the lights of a few windows, it was easy for me to find a dark pocket to slink into, dip my head out of, and observe the world outside. This was better than any aquarium. As I was marveling at the sheer variety of clothing these Outlasters had on¡ªa literal millennium-span of casual fashion, from rustic to chic¡ªChora was talking to the innkeeper at the desk. They¡¯d gotten into a conversation that I only found intermittently interesting. I tuned in and out whenever they got back to talking about myths. Because when Chora had asked this man about ¡°Princesses of the Pond,¡± the stories had spilled out. Most of them blatantly unrelated, but still. Tales of humans and animals spirited away, of demons and wraiths who stomped through the forest one awful night and had disappeared to another realm the next. Stories of vast immortal beasts who literally sucked the lives out of their victims. A Shadow King who, in a completely unsubstantiated rumor, had run off with a woman from Outlast long, long ago, and converted her into a seafaring tyrant. This was all mixed up with other riveting topics such as: the weather. The innkeeper sighed in relaxed thought. ¡°You know, about that poem,¡± he said, ¡°that woman in gold, with the petals changin¡¯ to wine¡­ Used to be a bubble tree about east of Clantisere Pond, that they say made wine. But all the times people gone to see it since, ain¡¯t a one could find it.¡± ¡°That could be related,¡± said Chora. ¡°But it could also be an excuse people use when they come home drunk.¡± The innkeeper burst with a sudden laugh. ¡°Ha! I knew you were funny.¡± They continued talking about that ¡°bubble tree¡± and the golden woman for a few minutes, spilling out a sea of related-or-unrelated legends. Chora said that before the Shadow Kings, there was a ¡°primordial dragon queen,¡± but the innkeeper was thoroughly convinced that was actually the ¡°primordial god of light.¡± And this Saianort¡ªor Seyenort¡ªwas either strict or merry. Toppling by his or her own debauchery, or overthrown by the heroics of the people and their new, wiser kings. This was simultaneously impenetrable, fascinating, and¡ªto no end¡ªfrustrating. Why are historical records so crappy? My old self would have questioned why they needed a historical record in the first place. But my new self had the Human Language Trait¡­my new self was well aware that human culture was interwoven with human language. And it seemed that humans didn¡¯t just have the power to pass down old knowledge and share old stories. They had a drive, a need to. And on the whole it was fun to listen to, anyway. Eventually, Chora capped it off. ¡°Thank you for the info, sir¡ªa-and one last thing. Magpies. How do you feel about them?¡± ¡°Magpies? Hm¡­perfectly fine little birds.¡± ¡°But they steal things?¡± He paused. ¡°We steal things.¡± I imagined that in the pause, he¡¯d gestured to the whole room and the natural materials it was made of. ¡°Okay, but, with all due respect, that¡¯s not the same. We¡¯re exploiting natural resources, not stealing things that animals constructed. Plus, theft kind of throws a wrench into the smooth operation of human society, and you just know the magpies don¡¯t give a crap.¡± ¡°Alright, young lady,¡± the innkeeper said. ¡°Go up to the magpies with that if you want. Tell ¡®em all about how the, uh, the net happiness of the human world will be enhanced if they give you back a fiver. But I can tell you this, the magpies are fierce.¡± ¡°Oh, I know that.¡± ¡°Throwin¡¯ hands?¡± I heard Chora pound a fist into her palm. ¡°I didn¡¯t study martial arts for nothing.¡± He laughed. ¡°Send me photos!¡± ¡°I can¡¯t promise you that, sir, but if you¡¯ve lost anything, I¡¯ll do my best to send it back.¡± ¡°If you don¡¯t bring back my fancy wagon, you ain¡¯t welcome here no more.¡± I guessed he must not have meant that, because Chora lightly replied, ¡°Absolutely. You take care, sir.¡± And he gave her a ¡°you as well.¡± Time to greet the world again. I trotted past the desk, running right next to it to avoid the innkeeper¡¯s eye, and was on Chora¡¯s heels when she opened the door, itching for the day to begin. 58. Run...Way Last night. Now that I looked back on it, I could¡¯ve groaned out loud. If I¡¯d beaten Chora in that race, I would have defeated her, like in a battle, and probably gotten another Level out of it! But this next competition I had in mind? Maybe it would make up for it. I was going to find a way to duel her in a less dangerous, lower-stakes way. I would challenge her to¡­a clothes-off. And I mean like a competitive fashion show, not strip poker. But before I could get to all that, I had to navigate Outlast¡¯s tricky streets. I darted from one corner to the next, following Chora¡¯s slow progress along a crowded street. Few spoke to her¡ªfew even focused on her¡ªso busy in their livestock, their lives. The occasional goat that turned toward me and brayed was beckoned back to the road, either with a word or the pull of a leash. Outlast in daylight was in some ways a terrible place to hide, because even the alleyways were flush with sun. But the crowding made up for it! It sure did make following Chora a hassle, though. Which had given me the thought that this would be so much easier if I were in humanoid form, and if I had clothes, to avoid, like, scarring the public. I meowed a bit, looking past a cart wheel. Gleaming of a metal undercarriage caught my eye¡ªI turned away and just hoped Chora was keeping an ear out. She wasn¡¯t. So be it! I charged, not quite Leaping, not quite caring whether I bumped into any ankles by accident. Such is the risk you take when you hide in broad daylight. Scraping past a donkey¡¯s hoof, I bumped my head into Chora¡¯s ankle. She stopped cold, whirled around. ¡°What was¡ª¡± But she looked down and found me, and she saw I was pointing, and she looked all the way over to a boutique. Her eyes narrowed at the sight. But ultimately she shrugged her shoulders. Incidentally, the lady driving that wagon with a carrot lure hanging from a stick was crying out for her to move. Chora rushed away, and I followed suit. My heart was sinking, because her hesitation could only mean one thing: she was not fashionable. Meaning I was probably going to make as much Experience off of her as off a duck. But we¡¯d come this far. Plus, either way, I could get clothes! And clothes that I could make sure fit, clothes that wouldn¡¯t make me feel guilty for borrowing someone else¡¯s! Besides, maybe Reed was about my size, but Bayce¡¯s fitted dresses would look like curtains on me. Chora¡¯s pants would be shorts and her bra would be a prison. We opened the door to St@rs. Having gulped in the smell of barnyard creatures for the past few minutes, I¡¯d forgotten what I¡¯d learned just an hour ago: that Outlasters could actually be chic, if they wanted to. St@rs was a whole ¡®nother world. It was like a costume shop and a rave in one. Ambient thumping music and walls that either seemed to pulsate or literally did wobble like gentle jelly ushered us in, and the natural lighting was broken up by flying silver beams. ¡­I hadn¡¯t thought this through. In a hyperilluminated mall, there were no shadows to hide in. Quickly I spotted what could have been a fortress of half-price pants all folded in stacks and mounds on the floor, and jumped in. Peeking out, I saw Chora bend down to her ankle, then rise, put on shades, and insert earplugs. It would take me a solid three minutes to figure out she was probably blocking out light and noise. In the moment, though, I panicked. I might not win this: shades made her look cooler. Then she hovered in the doorway for a few seconds more, and I hovered behind the pants. Fortunately, Chora came up with a plan to get me further inside so that I didn¡¯t have to. She picked up a bunch of pairs of pants with me inside. It was clunky as heck, but it got mildly better when she dumped me in a shopping cart. Wait, I thought, clothing stores have carts in Vencia? It truly is a perfect world. As she strolled past reams and rows of outfits¡ªclothes for pirates, adventurers, slackers and harlequins¡ªI began to gather ideas¡­and when she stopped after a full, twenty-minute tour, squatted by the cart, and quietly asked me if I wanted to grab anything, I snuck my paw out and started to point. Not at any clothes, but at her. She was taken aback. ¡°I don¡¯t want anything.¡± ¡°Meow,¡± I said insistently, thinking, Well, you¡¯re gonna want something if you want to win! ¡°You¡­want me to have something in particular, spirit?¡± Close, but not quite¡­ ¡°Meow-w,¡± I said, with less conviction. ¡°You¡¯re saying you want to pay for it?¡± Crap! No! I did want to pay for it, but I forgot about that part too! I vigorously shook my head and pointed harder. Every piece of clothing I got today, I¡¯d just have to get on loan, and pay her back later. Of course Chora would do it, she had some kind of weird religious adoration thing going on. ¡°Understood. I brought my wallet. Don¡¯t worry, spirit, I¡¯ll pay for everything.¡± And to try and tell her she could have anything, I jutted both my paws out and gestured to the whole sweep of the store. She could have aaanything¡­ Then, pushing my face way up to the holes in the shopping cart, I looked around the store as well as I could. A few customers were ambling about, maybe a clerk. Taking a pair of cart-pants in my mouth, I jammed my head out the top of the clothing mound¡ªthen spat the pants on Chora. And then I streaked out of the cart, aiming directly for the most piratey-looking outfit on the upper row. I cleared significant air and snatched a whole vest and tunic! I could complete the outfit on my way to the dressing room using my extendable arms. Poof! ¡°Hey!¡± someone not named Chora cried out. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Hopefully they didn¡¯t have super film-recording-vision powers (unlike everyone on Earth), because otherwise, I would just be a mystery blur of a humanoid who suddenly appeared before everyone¡¯s eyes. I ignored them, sticking out one hand and scooping many pairs of pants and tights off the rack before slamming the door of a fitting room. Then I leaned against the door, pulse high, skin cold, breathing heavily. I am a genius. Wary of my time, I changed fast enough to warrant a world record, nearly busting a vest one size too small, rolling up the waist of pants that were just vaguely too big. There¡¯s nothing to build dexterity like time-sensitive challenges! Ow, my wrists were cramping. A quick glance in the changing room mirror told me I was a fashion plate. ¡­Well, maybe not. In fact, certainly not. But whether this would pass for avant-garde or just mismatched trash was beyond my feeble understanding. My little scarf-kerchief thingy was wonderfully askew, and halfway in my mouth. The striped green-and-orange tights had no shoes to go with them, resulting in a basketball-shorts-and-footie-pajamas look. But the red coat with its brass buttons did make me feel a surprising verve of something¡­was it power? Did I really feel¡ªjust a little¡ªlike a seafaring soldier? Hold on¡­were my ears a problem? I tried changing up my hair, maybe that would hide them. I balled positively all of my hair up and lumped it on top of my head. But it just slid off in every direction. Hold on again¡­my tail was the more obvious problem. I had just jammed it awkwardly down one pant leg, where it dangled right next to my footie-pajama shin. Not even ¡°dangled.¡± Stiff and beyond unnatural, it moved and felt like a terrified wallflower. But all this¡­it would have to do. Since I was bleeding SP.
SP 61% (178/293)
Flattening my ears as well as I could, mussing my hair kinda-sorta back into place, I opened the door just a crack¡­ Chora was nowhere to be seen. Agh, this sucked, she was probably changing! I shut the door again and my heart started pounding. How could I possibly keep this transformation up for long enough? I didn¡¯t wanna have to undress and redress all over again, and I probably didn¡¯t have that kind of time!! Um, wait, maybe¡­ With a poof, both my other form and my outfit disappeared. I poofed again, and the clothes came back, same way they were before. ¡­Oh, ohoho. You know what I really should¡¯ve been doing? Shoplifting. And reselling the proceeds so I could buy everyone in Reed¡¯s Cabin a college education and a backyard pool. As I returned to cat form, I pondered other nagging questions. Like how shoplifting could be prevented at all if normal people could have Inventories. Was there, maybe, another sort of magical protection that could see others¡¯ items? Like spyware, but works on back piercings and ankles? And then anti-spyware cantrips? Was there a magical-thief magical-store arms race going on? I had gotten absolutely zero epiphanies by the time I heard a door unlatch to my right. I Morphed, sped out, and stood face to face with¡ªsome random dude in a leather jumpsuit?! Aw, darnit. He took a glug from a dark glass bottle, then cracked an awkward smile. Bless his heart. I backpedaled and closed my door again. This would take a while. *** Chora came out looking restrained, yet appropriately fashionable. An orange turtleneck over slim black pants that seemed to actively absorb all the light in the room paired well with her shades. Just looking at her seemed to be imbuing my brain with a new fashion consciousness, a theory of simplicity in aesthetics. It¡¯s a good, simple look for you, I caught myself thinking. And with the shades, you really look like you could beat us all up. When she touched her hand to her shades, I actually gasped a little¡ªas if I was seeing some movie star deign to glance at the plebeians like me. But as she lowered those shades just enough to take in my look, she¡­actually had the same reaction as I did. Whuh? Why? I looked down at myself. Suddenly my body looked and felt gangly, and I could sense every jitter along the whole. The colors looked gaudy, the shapes looked gaudy, they clashed. I knew they looked exactly like the random grab-bag they were. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to put this,¡± she said. ¡°I-I think that¡­what I¡¯m seeing is¡­that red, brown, and gold look really good on you.¡± She paused. ¡°Also, you¡¯re beautiful in general.¡± It hit me that I¡¯d never spared a moment to look at my nekomata face. Suddenly I dashed into the changing room again¡ªslammed the door, pulled off all the clothes, not because I was overcome with emotion but because I didn¡¯t want to shoplift without planning to. And I un-Morphed just as my SP timer ran out, surrounded by the puddles of clothes. And just before I could kick myself for having no way to open this accursed door, I heard Chora knock and ask if I was alright. After some more back-and-forth, and me pawing, she unlatched the door for me. I came out crawling underneath the brass-buttoned blazer, as if that was going to make my cat form any hiddener. There was no point, because the secret had to be out. That dude in the jumpsuit and a couple of other folks were looking our way¡ªdoing that looking-but-I-swear-I¡¯m-not-really-looking thing. The dude sipped his drink. Chora sighed, purposefully making it loud. ¡°Yes, I brought a peaceful spirit here,¡± she boomed. ¡°We¡¯re just here shopping and having fun. Sue me!¡± ¡°Man, I love dogs,¡± said the dude with the drink. ¡°That a real magic dog, or just an anatomagus having fun?¡± ¡°Man, I love humans,¡± she said with venom. ¡°Are you real? Is your hair real?¡± He raised his hands. ¡°Point taken,¡± he said. For the record, he did have lush reddish-brown locks. I was so sure that Chora would tell me we¡¯d be on our way¡ªand if she¡¯d decided to storm out without buying anything, after all this chicanery, I wasn¡¯t sure I could blame her. But there were a couple more surprises to be had. ¡°Come on,¡± she told me, ¡°I put together an outfit that¡­I hope maybe you¡¯ll like. But if you don¡¯t, that¡¯s fine. It¡¯s the least I could do, at any rate.¡± She tilted her head, cast a glance at the blazer atop my back. ¡°But you may want to keep that piece. I mean¡­it¡¯s a good color on you.¡± Hm¡­ Shaking off the blazer, not caring where it fell, I decided I¡¯d give it a few more minutes of thought. I trotted behind her, excited¡ªfor now¡ªfor nothing but whatever she had in store for me.
Victory!
EXP: 29% (645/2250)
¡­Alright, if the numerical reward was this small, I probably wouldn¡¯t challenge her to a look-off again. At least not like this. *** Fittingly, the outfit Chora had chosen for me struck me as simple yet effective. It consisted of: A plain white T-shirt. Brown short shorts. Athletic black shoes. Ankle-cut white socks. A brown over-the-shoulder dual chest lump protector. A simple black headband. And just when I was wondering how the pants would work with my tail, she picked them back up, held both sides with taut knuckles, roared, and tugged. Er¡­I guessed that as long as she paid for damaged merchandise, the store was fine with it. Anyway, I had some quibbles with this ensemble, but I felt Chora had gotten the spirit of what I wanted out of clothes down¡ªand that was, namely, that I kinda didn¡¯t want to wear clothes at all. I mean, playing dress-up had been surprisingly fun, but that was just it for me: playing dress-up. The most exciting thing about wearing stuff regularly was the idea that my nekomata form could actually be seen in public. The second most exciting was getting fewer goosebumps. So I ditched the headband (that form likely wouldn¡¯t be running for her life for more than twenty seconds anyway, at this stage) and swapped out the socks and constrictive shoes for these huge chunky sandals that made a clacky sound when I grabbed one by the strap and puppeted it against the floor. I also opted for a way larger T-shirt. Sure, maybe it would be like a curtain on me, but¡ªagain thinking of goosebumps¡ªI preferred to think of it as a blanket. Long sleeves were for nerds, though. After all was said and done, when everything I wanted was stacked in the cart above Chora¡¯s own new outfit, I thanked her to the best of my ability. And then, in the store, I curled up as if I was going to sleep¡­ And then I actually went to sleep. I needed the SP, and she needed to feel how I felt when she conked out on that rug. 59. Out of Outlast By the mysterious means of Chora¡¯s carrying arms, I found myself back in the inn, nestled in the plush security of a bed. Moments later, the two of us were gone. Just when the village of Outlast began to feel like a neat place to be in, to accumulate mystery, we were leaving¡ªbut it didn¡¯t feel right to stay, after all. That wasn¡¯t our home. It was just a cool place to visit. Plus, I¡¯d definitely start to get tired of weaving through and around so many farmers going about their everyday business. Seriously, how were these streets so full? The tide of people guiding animals in both directions just wasn¡¯t stopping, and it¡¯d been an hour or two since I first started watching them! If I was on the edge of annoyance, Chora was solidly there. She increasingly muscled her way through the crowd and I gratefully joined her. Then the really long staircase and ramp were again before us¡­but this time, everyone and their mother was using it. Of course they were. But¡­I squinted at the sight. Where could they possibly be going? I never saw entire wagon trains in the Vencian Wood. Then my head went higher, to the very top. People weren¡¯t actually going through the tree line, they were¡­going through it. As in phasing through it, disappearing before they logically should go in. Magical shenanigans. Chora was standing with me, here in the most tiny and pathetic ¡°alley¡± I¡¯d ever seen. ¡°People who live here can use these stairs as a gateway to a few other places. Some of them are farms, some are businesses that work with the farms. I think one is just a big grocery store.¡± ¡°Mraow?¡± When she looked my way, I sat upright and stretched out my front limbs like a tape measure. ¡°¡­Oh, why¡¯s it so long? Well, I think it was made millennia ago for¡­some kind of religious-devotional reason. While you go up the five hundred steps, you¡¯re supposed to enter a thankful, meditative state. It¡¯s a beautiful idea¡­don¡¯t know how many people do it.¡± We sidestepped that entirely, hiking up the hillside instead. As we made our way up, I looked sidelong at the ramp-and-stair procession. Rising up from, coming down to, the spaghetti-tangle village and its humble plots of farmland, squares of light brown and grain yellow that I could see far better in daylight. Still, the world on the horizon and beyond was hardly any clearer. If those were city towers, they all blended together: their shapes, their tones, the dark-blue cast that distance gave all skyscrapers and mountains. Briefly I wondered where that shepherd was. Just another day¡¯s work ahead, no doubt. Goodbye, Outlast. *** Chora didn¡¯t really like it when I stopped to harass goats and mallards, but she just had to accept that she wouldn¡¯t understand. A bleating quack and a yowling bleat were all they left as they charged away. I had no luck with that pounce, just a faceful of water. But I was getting there, and if I succeeded, I¡¯d get a full energy refund by the time we crossed from Drippy Flats over to the mansion.
EXP: 61% (1372/2250)
HP 98% (346/353)
SP 100% (293/293)
As if I needed a refund. ¡°¡­Like I was saying¡­¡± Chora said. Her teeth may not have been gritted, but the flatness of her delivery somehow said it all. ¡°It¡¯s either that or sneaking in. And I¡¯m not sure I have the skillset for that.¡± Naturally, she was sharing her ideas for how to infiltrate the lycanborn mansion. I wasn¡¯t disinterested, I just knew I wouldn¡¯t be able to think straight about it until we arrived. I wished Chora would be quiet about it, but it seemed rude to command her to shush. I let her talk as I inwardly drifted off. Ponds like paintwork gleamed in my vision. By the time the east end came in sight, Chora started changing subjects. (She still hadn¡¯t solidified a plan.) ¡°Not much like time away to make you miss where you are,¡± she said. ¡°For me, anyway. Just when I was starting to feel boxed in, lose motivation to stay on track, here you are going for a change of pace¡­looking like you might want help. I guess people call it a happy coincidence.¡± That renewed my attention. As we strolled and my fur dried, I looked curiously up at her. And she looked at me. ¡°You may have gathered already. I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m doing in life. My family is¡­they¡¯re not evil. They¡¯re just disappointed in me. And I gave them this idea in their heads that I¡¯m going to be some great philosopher-master of martial arts.¡± She pushed her flatlined mouth to the side. ¡°Then I don¡¯t do anything but read crap and sit alone.¡± ¡°Meow-w,¡± I said, with a sympathetic tone. My immediate reaction was where was this even coming from? Surely there was no reason for her to beat herself up like this! She was great! Reed was great! Bayce was great! No amount of studying or not studying, meeting or not meeting new people, would change that. ¡­I wished I could tell Chora what I knew about hermits and lonely sages from Earth, who, from a certain point of view, did nothing but read scrolls and sit alone. So probably if she just read scrolls, she¡¯d be primo martial artist material. But that would have to wait for another day, when I could really speak. Until then, I could only look sadly her way. She continued. ¡°When you don¡¯t talk to anyone, you¡¯re not getting the word out about you. You¡¯re not self-marketing. And if you don¡¯t know a master or a fifth-rank already, then you basically don¡¯t exist. Nobody is interested in me.¡± I didn¡¯t like hearing her say ¡°nobody is interested in me¡± like it was a fact of the universe. Didn¡¯t like it at all. And I didn¡¯t know how to express that well, but I hoped a sharp hiss would do it. ¡°Yeah!¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s unfair, but that¡¯s how the world works.¡± Nooo, that isn¡¯t what I meant at all! *** It wasn¡¯t that the mansion had changed. It looked the same as yesterday, just streaked a little with the remains of last night¡¯s drizzle. No, it was just absolutely smothered in magpies. Raccoons¡­magpies¡­why were animals getting together in these absurdly sized flocks, just to torture me in particular? Were the birds better, more networked communicators than they seemed at first glance? Had some messenger picked up on our plans¡ªour heartbreakingly obvious plans¡ªin the village? Had they flown back to their friends at the old raggedy stone heap, warned everyone, and gotten their cool obsidian eyes all trained on two hapless youngsters whose power, combined, couldn¡¯t possibly be over Level 40? Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. It almost made me nauseous. Birds in the window grates. Birds on the roof. Birds along the gutter-pipe scraps. Even a couple of birds squirming out from the earth, from the places where the wall, floor, and grass converged. Like, what were they even doing? That was just excessive! Augh¡­if I could¡¯ve cried, I would¡¯ve cried. But in a sense, this was what I had wanted. The prison of my own design. Chora and I were watching from afar, and even ant-sized magpies twisted my stomach. ¡°Good,¡± she said, ¡°it¡¯s just another day for them.¡± I reacted with terror. ¡°Mah?!¡± ¡°Yes, sometimes it¡¯s way worse, and magpies will be flying around like mini stormclouds. It¡¯s funny, unless you¡¯re in the mansion at the time.¡± Wow. But that didn¡¯t explain why today the magpies were looking so vigilant, so dead-set on slaughtering anyone who came their wa¡ªwait, they were literally just hanging out. Now that I studied them more closely, I knew they were cawing, jumping, fluttering around, grooming each other, picking brief fights. So, alright, maybe the universe did not hate Chora and I specifically. ¡°Well?¡± said Chora, her eyes focused straight ahead through the bushes. ¡°You want to try it, or go home?¡± The way I saw it, we didn¡¯t really have a choice. We had to see this through. ¡°You remember what I said about how we can try sneaking around through the back?¡± Uh¡­would she be offended if I said ¡°no¡±? I decided that nah, she wouldn¡¯t dare be offended. I narrowed my eyes and shook my head. ¡°Okay, well, that figures¡­maybe sounded like I was talking to myself¡­¡± She set her disappointment aside. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter anyway. I think charging in full-throttle from the back might be best. What do you think?¡± I nodded eagerly. Whatever she thought was best was bound to be fine, honestly. Then she briefly went over her moves. ¡°Fairly basic martial arts¡ªlyen-chunst, third rank¡ªand the standard wind magic that comes with it. I also have a few healing Spells and speed buffs. And I can do armor-piercing damage if I hit pressure points¡­ If only I knew where a bird¡¯s pressure points were. Anyway, I¡¯m assuming magpies don¡¯t wear armor, and¡­it¡¯s not like I can break through buffs granted by Skills or Spells. Best thing I¡¯m likely to do is push swarms of magpies a way and give you an opening to¡ªdo what you do.¡± Nice. She didn¡¯t sound so confident, but I knew that deep down, she was proud of what she could do. I had my agility, my Defense and Wisdom buffs, random objects to hurl from my Inventory, and¡­that was about it. Oh, and, oops, I had a sword of destiny that was probably supposed to help me kill the Blue Princess of the Pond? I dwelled on that thought for a moment longer. If I used the Debug Blade here and I just went brain-dead, it wouldn¡¯t be so bad. Because Chora was right next to me! So she could get it out of my hand and snap me out of it! If not, I¡¯d at least be in a coma, feeling nothing. Huh¡­if nothing else, I could test the thing. With a hop back, I unveiled the blade. Steam exploded and the blade was decoded. It fell, fortunately hitting soft and quiet ground. Chora, taken aback, snapped a finger and unleashed just enough wind to dissipate the steam. ¡°Why did you¡ª¡± I slapped my paws onto the sword hilt, struggling to find just enough of a grip that this would count as ¡°equipped.¡± ¡°Oh¡­but how is that even going to work?¡± Chora shook her head. ¡°But you would know, spirit.¡± I continued trying and failing to grab the blade. ¡°¡­You do know, don¡¯t you?¡± I shook my head. Right then, the feeling hit. One paw wrapped around one end, the second shakingly pushed against the other, and a lightning bolt of Stat changes shot through me. Unsure whether my own body was frozen or shaking, I checked my Stats and nearly passed out on the spot.
Stats
Taipha Ash Heather
Lv. 15 EXP: 61% (1372/2250)
HP 98% (346/353)
SP -14% (-293/-2051)
ATK 168 (x3)
INT 0 (x0)
DEF 41
WIS -58 (x-2)
SPD 49
Woah¡­with that ATK, I was an absolute beast¡ª Ohh, agh¡­my head was reeling¡­
WARNING: Stats at or below 0 may not function properly and may be a sign of an impending Fatal System Error. Recommended: Initiate Emergency System Repair now.
This was not good, not good at all. Were Stats just Stats, or were they also internal organs, parts of me currently screaming for me to let go of the blade, making me rock on my feet and teeter on the brink of consciousness? A wave of fatigue and stomach-churning nausea had come over me. I staggered, and my vision got¡­trippy. If you¡¯ve ever pressed down on your eyes and the sides of your head and it made lava-lampy images sprout all over your mind¡¯s eye, that times a thousand. Or times seven, more likely. ¡°Spirit!¡± Chora hissed as I wobbled backward and swayed forward. She reached around me and yanked me far away from the blade¡ª Ending the dizzy spell. While also, as a side effect, giving me a pang of withdrawal. I just had ultimate power in my Level 15 clutches, and this loser who didn¡¯t get any buffs when she held the same sword, who doesn¡¯t even know what real power is, cruelly took it away! I wanted to scream and snatch it back¡­until my Wisdom and Intelligence recovered in full. ¡°No,¡± said Chora. ¡°That¡¯s where I draw the line. You¡¯re not hurting yourself with a sword we barely understand.¡± A lingering feeling of resentment stayed in me. ¡°Maow!¡± ¡°I can tell you don¡¯t understand it! You¡¯ve barely had it a week, haven¡¯t you?¡± Even less than that, actually¡­ ¡°Mrrr¡­¡± I lowered my head in defeat. The part of me that felt wronged and sulky, that was immature, shrank into nothing. ¡°I hate to act against your will, but it¡¯s for your own good,¡± she said as she set me down and picked the sword up. ¡°You can have this back later.¡± She then proceeded to slice her own foot¡ªI mean, slide it in her own foot-based Inventory. We took about a minute to calm down after that. Then Chora pointed with her thumb, hooking it around toward the back of the mansion. And we crept through the bushes, keeping our distance from the place. This was a new angle for me. From here, the mansion looked even more fallen, misshapen by the centuries of neglect, and positively overrun by vines and dirt. And some of those vines were downright girthy. We stood a slim chance of being able to get inside the mansion smoothly from here, but on the plus side, there were fewer magpies. With a hint of regret, though, I realized that the cherubic statue was hanging out in the front. Would I ever get to see it up close? Well, not within the next several seconds I wouldn¡¯t. Metaphorically rolling up my cat-sleeves, I turned to Chora and gave her a stiff nod. She nodded back, then rose into a standing position, did a few stretches. Meditate. Guard. My body and mind prepared themselves. Then we sprang together, rushing toward the mansion¡¯s remains. 60. Winged Tornados Those thick vines wrapped around the back of the mansion had looked intimidating from afar, but not only could I squeeze myself through them with a pinch of effort¡ªI could claw through one within seconds. And I didn¡¯t even have to Swipe or Slash! Pride in my Attack Stat welled up in me as I growled and hyper-speed clawed at a vine. Chora, meanwhile, was hunched over me, looking back and forth. Both of us could hear the magpies getting suspicious, then agitated, Now the beating of wings sounded out from seemingly every direction. When would they begin their all-out attack? The answer, it turned out, was ¡°right when we got through.¡± After half a minute, I¡¯d finally made a big-enough vine tunnel for Chora to crawl through, and even found light on the other side. The magpies shouted out and struck, but a kick of wind pushed them away. As I crawled forward, I wondered what we could do about that part of the flock. We¡¯d have to plug this hole with a rock or somethi¡ªoh, there was one. Actually a bunch of them. We stepped out and took in the scene, along with a parade of rank smells. Chora helped me lift and shove a big rubble-rock in the hole, but she warned, ¡°I think they¡¯ll be back. They can peck through the vines.¡± Oh. Yeah. We knew we didn¡¯t have too long to just stop and stare at the interior. In some ways, we wouldn¡¯t have wanted to. Animals had made their homes here, and homes on top of those homes, for so many generations that the rotten remains of the old were heaped up under the new. Old broken pottery shards mixed indiscriminately with nuts and peelings¡­and bits of shiny things. Stolen treasure? Although my Treasure Detector was oddly silent. We were standing in a ¡°room¡± with only fragments of its walls remaining. On what was still standing and not choked out by vines, precious few flakes of a fancy wallpaper clung on for dear life, and a portrait frame miraculously stayed up, though the painting hadn¡¯t survived. Some kind of candle holder, or faucet, or bizarre fantasy-land ornament, stuck out near the corner, glinting in a spot of light. The earth below was lumpy, but we could feel solid patches of concrete floor just centimeters below. Chora kneeled beside the wall to pick something up¡ªI watched¡ªand then we were rudely interrupted by a wave of screaming magpies through a doorway. And, aw no, they were ready. Like readier than anyone has ever been. They weren¡¯t just glowing with their best magic, their bodies sending up white and orange flares. No, they also had their weapons out. Claws and beaks, for the most part, but also swords in the talons of a handful. I guessed I never needed arms in the first place. Chora, with a shout, windmilled her leg and blew a strong current through the flock. That whipped a solid line through, but nine-tenths of them remained and didn¡¯t slow down at all. They swarmed us. Guard¡ªagain! As my body flashed and stiffened, a million sharp edges spun around and across me. Feathers blinded me. Feathers! My trophies! While the dazzlingly uncomfortable stack of three Guards wasn¡¯t making me impervious, it did turn their attacks to mere dents¡ªso much so that ordinary scratches, according to my HP Stat, did nothing. It was the powered-up claws and beaks that did more, and the odd sword (ouch that one cut my eye) that stung.
HP 88% (311/353)
SP 66% (194/293)
DEF 101 (+150%)
Welp, couldn¡¯t stay here forever. With my best shot at an all-out howl, I pounced onto the closest available magpie and went absolutely berserk with Swipe. After some amazing carnage, suffice it to say they went down quick.
EXP: 78% (1762/2250)
Yeah! Fight that! Sadly, they did fight that. Five or six magpies retaliated at the same time, coordinating powered-up beak strikes right into my stomach. I buckled. Defensively, magpies were nothing special. But even worse than their power in numbers was the power of their beak attacks.
HP 42% (148/353)
SP 41% (119/293)
¡­Wait, was this what Chora meant when she said ¡°armor-piercing¡±? Attacks that ignored all my buffs? The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Oddly, though my body was reeling, my mind was resolved, solid as steel. It was like the encounter with the sudden deluge of raccoons was a training session. As if my subconscious was saying that this wasn¡¯t so bad. My suffering was limited. I¡¯d seen this before, and now I knew that the most valiant way that I could go out¡ªif I was going out (which maybe I was, because come on, like twenty seconds had passed and HP numbers don¡¯t lie)¡ªwas by pulverizing every bird in sight the same way I¡¯d done it just now. After all, the reason I¡¯d chosen Swipe over Slash was because it would stay active for longer. Not much longer, but I would make that time enough. In useless enthusiasm, I made up a new name for this storm of attacks¡ªwhich was more like a mentality, a state of berserk being: Swipe Barrage! Before I knew it, shed feathers flooded the air, blurs whizzed past my vision before I could blink, and I¡¯d crashed to the ground right beside the bird hurricane. I swiveled my head just in time to see Chora¡¯s feet at the bottom of a matching hurricane, as steady as if they¡¯d been bolted to the spot. Surely her arms were whirling and punching, creating the cyclone, intermittently blasting winds forward. I saluted her (not literally). But the magpies knew I¡¯d fallen out of their death-cloud, so they shifted slightly to the side, thus engulfing me again. I scampered out. They followed, along with their zero-damage scratch damage. Yowling, I scampered out again! They dutifully followed. I scampered out¡ªsomething in the floor had caught my eye. Actually, it was the same thing Chora had knelt to grab. Only she wasn¡¯t picking anything up, as I now realized. She was trying to push something aside. To uncover. The hole behind this great big shard of rubble wasn¡¯t like the myriad others. On the other side was neither plant life nor daylight. It was just darkness. Before I went in, I spared a look back at Chora. Was she going to get eaten alive up here? On one hand, her gusts were blowing more and more birds away¡ªand those who were pushed out were likely losing interest, since the flock was definitely thinning. On the other, attacks were breaking through. Wings and beaks were either hitting her or coming close. But in the middle of exchanging blows, Chora spared one arm to gesture toward me. To wave me off. After all, magpies were coming for me too. I nodded, then dove. The magpies reacted as if they were shrimp tossed in a hot, well-oiled pan: with a heartstopping screech and a sizzling burst of energy. The cloud seemed to leap onto me like a licking flame. And it was full of flame, with magpies redoubling their magic efforts, charging their beaks and swords. Inwardly, I couldn¡¯t help but ask: who was manufacturing so many bird-sized swords and leaving them in a werewolf mansion? Okay, maybe they were just daggers. Either way, it didn¡¯t matter¡ªif I hadn¡¯t jumped into that hole, I would¡¯ve been either impaled or forced in, thanks to tons of sharp tips. Instead of skewering me, though, they got in each others¡¯ way, almost trapping themselves like a bunch of stooges. I landed in the dust, wheeled around to take a look at a hole that was surprisingly high up¡ªmeters away in a fairly big cellar. The magpies, barking at each other, wriggled beaks and blades back and forth until eventually they backed away. One magpie remained. I pawed around, grabbed a rock with both paws, and threw it up. The rock was not even close to making contact. It just hit the wall and bounced off. The bird looked at the point of contact suspiciously, then back at me. With a final caw, they hopped backward, and a meager stream of light entered the chamber. Either they no longer saw me as a threat, or they wanted to take out Chora first¡ªthe easier prey. She had better be alright, I thought. In fact, I almost wanted to get out again and surprise her with reinforcements, but¡­ I was probably in a cool secret treasure room. No, it couldn¡¯t be. There was so little here. Whatever antiques were here looked more like they¡¯d tumbled in years and years ago (just like I had moments ago) and were now covered in veils of spiderwebs and dirt. I was stepping on a broken necklace, its pearls dulled but still salvageable. In front of me was a pile including a candelabra, a wacky two-pointed dagger, a dented bucket, a half-broken mosaic, and an umbrella. Oh, that one qualified as treasure. And it was new! I ejected my last two koi corpses and took the umbrella right away. But beyond the disappointing loot, something was off about this place. The noise outside felt so distant, as if instead of falling down some hole, I¡¯d plunged underwater. I was in a strange pocket of quiet calm. At the same time, I couldn¡¯t have been alone, right? After all, there were spiderwebs here. Just when I had that thought, I heard something. But it wasn¡¯t a skitter or a chirp. More of¡­a pulse. Yet when I looked around, scanning as patiently as I could, the room was exactly the same. Hm¡­ Still suspicious and guarded, I took stock of what I could detect. The floor was faded tile, and the pattern itself was actually intact. Some of the pentagons were precious stones¡­garnet or topaz, maybe. Many others, naturally, were chipped and scratched out. But there was one fantastic find down here: an entire mural. These tiles were preserved somewhat better. While the paint was fading, the few precious stones still flared shockingly bright. They were topaz eyes in the heads of cats. I was looking at a scene of werewolf domination. Humans leashing cats in domestic scenes, humans serving cats their table scraps, humans commanding rows of cats to jump through hilarious flaming circus hoops. Housecats, a wildcat or lynx, and even a¡­liger? And then, for good measure, just to make sure the viewers knew these were lycanborn humans, a full moon hung from the top-right corner, above a werewolf howling mid-change. Was it just me, or did the collars on the cats and the whips in humans¡¯ hands look bolder than the rest? Still¡­darn. I felt conflicted about the idea of ¡°a pet cat.¡± Maybe I wouldn¡¯t hate that lifestyle for everyone, but I certainly did hate it for me. What I certifiably hated, though, was the idea of pet cats getting whipped for mindless amusement. I heard the pulse again, and then I saw it. In a pile of webby rubble right in front of the mural, I spotted two glowing patches, also the color of topaz. I couldn¡¯t look for long. A box interrupted.
Message from Teague, the Goddess of Werewolves
Hellooo~! You¡¯ve accessed Teague Terminal #5! How may I assist you? OuO
61. Chronic Carnage Okay, so this mansion was connected to the System in some way, and it¡­or, rather, a terminal created by ¡°Teague, the Goddess of Werewolves¡±¡­was now talking to me.
Tip: Ask for a ¡°Command List¡±! *v*
¡­Huh? Okay. Sierra wouldn¡¯t leave me alone when I was cooking, but dealing with this part alone, that was fine. As I began to swat the rubble veiling the topaz glow away, I thought, Command List.
Available Commands:
Observe Year 3770 View Log Help Desk About Chat with Teague Terminal #5
I was flabbergasted. For the moment, though, I would ignore the existentially scariest of these commands. About?
The Teague Terminals are statues allowing certain Arkmagus creations (namely, creations of the Arkmagi Teague and Sierra, with special exceptions for creations of the Arkmagi Gib and Norton if they happen to be cool enough people! :D) to access this mansion at the height of its opulence in the year 3770. It¡¯s sort of just a museum exhibit, but what¡¯s so neat about it is that this time the museum is ACTUALLY REAL??? 0o0
It took me so, so long to realize that the bunches of zeroes, Os, Us and such at the end of sentences were actually human faces. That was one way to play with letters! A way that made my head hurt. Really, everything about this was head-hurty in some way. Shoving the trash to the floor, I discovered that the terminal with the glowing eyes was an exact duplicate of the statue I¡¯d seen out front. It did look like a short, squat, impish version of the Arkmagus I¡¯d seen in my horrible weird death flashback-dreams. From this angle, I could also see the floppy dog ears curving onto her bangs. Okay¡­ I thought, still wary as anything. Chat with Teague Terminal.
Chat Initiated.
Anything you say will be recorded for quality assurance. How can I help you? :)
You can help me by fighting the magpies out to get me and my friend.
Keyword Detected: ¡°fighting¡±
I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t help you with that! Teague Terminals have no combat or healing capabilities. We are single-function, baybeee! OK but if you are suffering, we¡¯re truly sorry about that. Try reaching out to the real Teague for assistance?
I rolled my eyes. Then let me talk to Teague?
Keywords Detected: ¡°talk to Teague¡±
You can do that if your System is hooked up to Teague and she has provided you with a personal keyword or password. I¡¯m just a terminal, so I can¡¯t help ya there!
Teague huh? ¡­Alright, forget that. Can you, uh¡­(okay, what¡¯s something interesting I can ask about¡­) Tell me something about the Arkmagi I don¡¯t know!
Keyword Detected: ¡°Arkmagi¡±
Long long ago, the universe created minor deities known as the Arkmagi. There were sooo many of them and though they were closest to humans in their habits and desires, they represented lots of animals. Their job was to spread life throughout the galaxies. I think it was just for the fun of it. Unless that¡¯s just the way I interpreted it, but let¡¯s be real it¡¯s kind of the best way XD I¡¯m kidding!!! Norton don¡¯t read this haha!!!!! ANYWAY O_O¡­ Yeah, some people made life for fun and others made it to start wars and spread suffering. I don¡¯t even want to share that part but it¡¯s true! Some of the Arkmagi are awful and that¡¯s why I mostly stick to just a few fellow Arkmagus friends. We think of ourselves like an art collective that also likes to hang out at the mall NOT THAT WE HAVE MALLS but honestly we¡¯re kind of jealous and we wish we did. That¡¯s kind of it, I don¡¯t know what else I should say here¡­*gives you ice cream*
The way the terminal trailed off at the end there didn¡¯t give me much confidence that it could tell me anything else of interest. Unless?! Tell me useful stuff about Vencian history!
Keywords Detected: ¡°Vencian history¡±
TBA as soon as Norton and Gib will actually tell me! But you could probably learn it better from a book. Time-travel terminals take a lot of energy to set up!
I figured she¡ªer, ¡°it¡±¡ªdidn¡¯t mean it that way, but¡­wow, this statue really did just tell me, ¡°Read a book, loser!¡± Before I could push this any further, a sound interrupted. This time, an actual full-fledged skitter. A pang of fear hit me. Wasn¡¯t I at low Health and SP, fresh off a flurry of magpie battling? I wasn¡¯t ready to fight again just yet, I needed to break away and strategize! Or, honestly, maybe I could dodge responsibility¡ªI mean, give myself more time. I¡¯ve got no idea if this is safe or functional after potentially millennia, but¡­observe year 3770!
Time Travel Protocol Initiated!
Safe travels! Hehe, just kidding, they are always safe :P
NOTHING ABOUT THE WAY YOU TALK GIVES ME ANY CONFIDENCE IN THAT! Teague¡¯s voice seemed genuine, but also, uh, not that smart. I realized that was the pot calling the kettle black, but now that I¡¯d read these messages, I vowed to make my own speech patterns at least a little more formal. I mean, even Sierra wasn¡¯t like this, and she was already super casual! Imagine the fear suffered by a random lycanborn citizen when they speak to what might be their god, only to read¡­¡°hehe.¡± Nonetheless¡ª A full-body shiver came over me, one that threw my bones and organs out of joint. I was sick (almost literally) of feeling like a mind in a tumbling sack of liver and offal every time I used too many buffs, grabbed my golden sword the wrong way, or used a time statue! But maybe mortal minds weren¡¯t meant to be doing any of the things I got myself into. The whole room around me warped, wobbled like walls at magnitude ten, and then it all stopped. It was all a smidgen brighter and a hundred times neater. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. The statue stood before me, looking the same minus a host of smudges I hadn¡¯t even realized were there until they were gone. Behind me and on either side of the terminal were cabinets filled with food in tins and jars¡­and behind it, halfway obscured, was the mural. It wasn¡¯t just my imagination! The whips and collars I¡¯d seen really were¡ª Oh, crap, okay. The monster that¡¯d made a sound earlier had followed me in here. I could see it directly behind me, on a fresh tile floor with the barest hint of dust. It was a massive tarantula with wild black-and-white hair and legs as long as mine, greeting me with all four mandibles open. Those mandibles looked as sharp and bone-hard as four beaks. ¡­The mandibles were four beaks. The hair was feathers. And it had wings. But that was only the first disturbing part of the beast. It was also wavering, somehow, like I was seeing its image on the surface of troubled waters. Wait, no! It was more like a wobbly TV recording, one with a veil of static. But the paws in the lower edge of my peripheral vision, they were wavering too.
Message from Teague, the Goddess of Werewolves
Welcome to the year 3770! Don¡¯t you dare touch anything, or the time paradoxes are gonna getcha! Just kidding again! This whole setup is paradox-proof OuO Not only can you not see or interact with other visitors (¡®cept through the Guestbook), you also can¡¯t interact with any of the stuff in here! If you¡¯ve come in with fellow time travelers, though, you can touch each other. Have that romantic kiss you¡¯ve been planning!!!
Agh! Boxes that pretty much only explained what I figured I was experiencing!! I waved for them to go away. Naturally, they didn¡¯t go away. Meanwhile, I heard a vicious spitting sound. The magpie-spider had launched a spray of saliva. Wait¡­probably acid, actually. I could tell because it was chewing through my ear.
HP 90% (336/375)
Wait, what the heck?! Did I miss a notification for Leveling U¡ª Another spray hit me square in the forehead. Yelping, I fell backward and tried my best to scrabble out of the way.
HP 72% (271/375)
HP: 72% (271/375) What?! I knew the forehead was more vital than ear cartilage, but would a second strike really do that much more damage?! I took a very very quick glance at my Stats.
Stats
Taipha Ash Heather
Lv. 16 EXP: 93% (2235/2400)
HP 72% (271/375)
SP 100% (315/315)
ATK 59
INT 39
DEF 33 (-10)
WIS 31
SPD 53
Debuffs: Acid Burn Effect: Reduces Defense.
At least it wasn¡¯t falling every turn like the Time Dilation thing would¡¯ve done with my Speed! This actually gave me a burst of hope. Plus, knowing that the magpies had boosted my Experience this much put an extra spring in my step. And literally, as I jumped forward with my Slash out. I could only clip the hind leg before the creature scurried halfway up the wall. Unwilling to let my attack go to waste, I followed with some impromptu gymnastics. There was a cabinet full of jars not far to the spider-magpie¡¯s left. Sure, I ¡°couldn¡¯t interact with anything,¡± but logically speaking, if a spider could climb up a wall, then I could probably touch walls and objects here without actually making them budge. So I wall-jumped upward¡ªbearing the theory out!¡ªand pounced, for real this time. I clawed it in its core, and the satisfying crackle told me that this hit was critical. The spider-bird howled, the kind of strangled sound I never would¡¯ve expected from an arachnid¡¯s mouth or, for that matter, a bird¡¯s four mouths. Then it gored me with the harpoons it called mandibles, which likewise flared with power. I detached quickly, ripping myself from the beaks just as they activated. I fell to the floor, actually hitting my back. A holographic image of my own blood shivered on the floor.
HP 49% (185/375)
SP 70% (219/315)
Acting on impulse, I hadn¡¯t even thought to try Guard or Meditate and hang onto the animal a little longer. I could fix that now! On the other hand, the SP toll that Slash had taken made me wary. Maybe there was another way out of this, a way I could find better by watching, waiting, and dodging. For now, I gave myself a single Guard. At least I could counteract the venom spray.
DEF 54 (+50%) (-10)
Now the magspie/magpider/marantu¡­lag took off, shedding tons more feathers that reminded me to make Inventory space and pick up the spoils later. But mostly they reminded me to book it. I dodged as a brief hail of venom followed. Webs came next. A projectile blob of web stuff hit the ground beside me, but I strafed away effortlessly. All those limbs were intimidating, but in the end, I probably had this creature beat for Speed. Which gave me a fraction of an idea¡­ When I¡¯d used Air Cutter for the first time yesterday, it was a massive failure. Well, more like a meager, unimpressive failure. It didn¡¯t do nearly as much damage as anything else in my arsenal. It was just ranged. But here was a flying enemy kind of out of reach! One dangerous enough up close that I might now want to risk latching on with a flying Leap. Especially when I didn¡¯t know how much HP it had left. On top of that, I could raise the damage a few notches higher if I actually put effort into aiming the flying wind-blade. Just like how the spider had milked me for more damage by hitting my forehead. Yeah, I knew there was a debuff stacked on top of that¡­but there were some disadvantages that HP couldn¡¯t quantify. I aimed an Air Cutter directly at not one, but both wings¡ªwhip-cracking my whole body to fling it just right. My aim wasn¡¯t as golden as it could¡¯ve been, but the ends of both wings were hit. Instead of shattering bones and exoskeleton, it merely rattled the spider. But that was good too. It threw the creature off its game, and that was perfect. It also made the spider dip in midair. Hm¡­okay, yeah, it was close enough. I¡¯d Guarded myself just enough. And it did look ragged enough. Did I have enough SP to do a combination special move?
SP 54% (171/315)
It looked like I just barely did! Leap¡ªSlash! 62. The Feathers Settle I did my first-ever straight-upward Leap, then struck at the magpie-spider¡¯s underbelly like a lycanborn kid slicing through a pi?ata. I screwed my eyes shut and fell back to earth as the candy-rain of entrails and acid followed.
Level Up!
Lv. 16 ¡ú Lv. 17
EXP: 28% (717/2550)
HP 100% (398/398)
SP 100% (333/333)
ATK 64 (+1!)
INT 42 (+1!)
DEF 46
WIS 33
SPD 56
Luckily, all the damage I took from the impact of landing and the acid rain dissolved like¡­um, like anything caught in acid rain. The spider fell too, and with it a bunch of drifting hologrammy feathers. I ejected the butterfly corpse¡ªthough I would kinda miss bringing that shiny trophy home¡ªand picked up as many feathers as I could.
Magpie Feathers x9 The black-and-white feathers of this mischievous bird are very distinctive.
There had to be six times that many still scattered around. Nine times six¡­ Was that or was that not seven grams¡¯ worth? ¡­Hold on¡­if all these feathers were collectively considered ¡°black and white,¡± did that mean that none of the things I¡¯d collected were, strictly speaking, black? Had this all been¡­for nothing? I chose to believe not. Another thought occurred to me: this spider-hybrid corpse might be some kind of rare specimen. Something that someone might appreciate me Inventorizing. I mean, people on Vencia didn¡¯t seem like fervent taxidermists or anything, so maybe they would actually be offended¡­but hey, they also went fishing and stuff. Hopefully I hadn¡¯t just murdered some forest guardian just to pocket their body as a trophy. I swapped out the magpie corpse for the bizarre combinatory animal.
Magpuck Corpse Legends say this animal was birthed when the treasure hoard of the magpies grew a mind and soul of its own. In reality, this chimera is simply what happens when the magical residue of magpie feathers shed in incredible volume permeates cobwebbed attics and basements for at least one thousand years.
Wow! I¡¯d been expecting unethical magical experiments or disturbing crossbreeding. Anyway, now that all that frenzied action was over, I looked again at the mosaic that¡¯d captured my attention earlier. I could see now that the whips and collars had been somewhat more vibrant than the rest of the mural because they had been new additions. They sure weren¡¯t present when the mural was first made. In fact, a bunch of other details had been changed over time. The most obvious ones had been painted in¡ªlike the whips¡ªbut others must¡¯ve required chiseling old stones out and replacing them with new ones. How else could they have edited out the vast green field below the rows of cats? In the modern day, these rows were being ordered to jump through flaming hoops. I saw now that this was just an amazingly cartoonish replacement for all the cats running across the wild plains in peace. Chat with Teague Terminal?
Chat Initiated.
Anything you say will be recorded for quality assurance. How can I help you? :)
What is lycanborns¡¯ relationship with cats?
Keywords Detected: ¡°lycanborns¡± ¡°cats¡±
That is a secret! The connection between werewolves and felines is a long one rich with history, but this is a secret history to be shared among werewolves only. Either you know all you need to know already, or you can ask one! Though they/you might consider it betraying their own people :(
Uhh¡­what if I told you I¡¯m the creation of Sierra, the goddess of nekomata?
Keywords Detected: ¡°creation of Sierra¡±
OK so you¡¯re with Sierra! Wow wow wow that is awesome, great seeing you over here ^v^ Are you alright with me checking your credentials?
Checking credentials? Huh?
Error: Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata is unavailable. She also thinks two goddess-voices in your head at one time might give you a migraine.
I already have a migraine, I thought-grumbled. And that snarky comment was nearly true, thanks to the information and sensory frenzy I¡¯d had over the past several hours finally hitting me about¡­say¡­five minutes ago. I had a nagging, pounding headache. But that was okay! I was powering through it, at least for now. ¡­Alright, go ahead and check me. To my surprise, nothing uncomfortable in the slightest happened to my body or mind.
sysadmin Identified!
Welcome, Creation of Sierra! 8D So the werewolves actually have this backstory where long ago there were cats on Vencia, but the rule was that only the werewolves could see them and interact with them. They became good friends, kind of like how hunter-gatherers on Earth hung out with wolves and those then became dogs and they helped each other out. Except in this case, some of the cats had mystical powers! And so did some of the humans! Things changed over time so that eventually when people started living in houses and farming, the cats were valued and even royal members of werewolves¡¯ households. They mostly just killed rodents to be honest, but they had other powers too. Like there was a really famous clairvoyant cat who worked with the werewolves and Outlast¡¯s guardian vulture (I think?) and saved the whole village from a flood. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. And I think things will keep changing! That¡¯s how culture works~! So maybe when you¡¯re reading this, cats and werewolves are working together to pilot giant fighting robots or something funny like that, hehe B)
They sure are, Teague Terminal! They sure are.
Possible Sarcasm Detected.
Aww, you don¡¯t have to lie to me just because I¡¯m small and innocent D:
Yeah, yeah, whatever. You¡¯re basically a robot, so I don¡¯t think anything I say right now matters. Case in point: no response. But¡­show me what kind of weird nonsense the time-traveling Log is!
Log Activated.
Total Number of Visitors: 303,761 Displaying page 1 of 12,151¡­
Reams and reams of names spread before me. They must¡¯ve been ordered by date of arrival or something, because there was no alphabetical order here.
Gabriel Fera Hartford Woods Aubergina Fen Bob Brushfire Merry Moonglow ¡­ Raphaela Cane Sephene Cane Taipha Nekomata
Skipping to the end of the pages I could actually access brought me this curious little list. Curious, but in the end, useless. Right? What would happen if I thought¡­select Sephene Cane?
Sephene Cane Total Visits Throughout Time: 10 5 Deluwa, 6807 (age 8) 27 Br¡¯naiwa, 6809 (age 10) 25 Blune, 6813 (age 14)
Uh¡­didn¡¯t keeping this kind of information in a pretty public log bring back the possibility of time paradoxes? What if that kid looked at these records himself and arbitrarily decided not to show up on a date when he shows up?
Keywords Detected: ¡°time paradoxes¡± ¡°log¡±
No need to fear that! You can¡¯t read your own log.
But what if¡­what if I told him that¡­never mind. (And I wouldn¡¯t anyway. I didn¡¯t want the whole universe to combust.) *** The lycanborn mansion was the very picture of opulence, just like the Teague Terminal said it was. Of course, there was no hole in the ceiling back when the cellar was first made. I ended up passing through an open doorway, creeping through stairs I felt I had no business walking across. The passage was narrow and totally dark, leading upwards and curling around until¡­ An open door in the wooden floor of a busy kitchen. The hustle and bustle of chefs and servants crowded my vision, their legs kicking through and around me. It was hard not to flinch. Aside from the stray shout for a new order, though, it wasn¡¯t a strain on the ears. And the light streaming through open windows was welcoming, brought to mind the smell of a fresh roast. Not that I could smell anything in this timewarp. I ran to the nearest door and found myself in a stunning dining room, watching servants prepare a ludicrously long table in a gallant room for some kind of party. Gold-and-cobalt wallpaper glittered, and a parade of stoic portraits frowned down on cushioned seats. Dashing off, I passed through room after room until a sense of familiarity stopped me in my tracks. My gut was alarmed. How could this possibly be the same room where Chora and I had just fought magpies? Not only were the walls intact and the floors well-broomed, and the vines totally absent, but the ruined picture was back in full. This was the first realistic depiction of a werewolf I¡¯d seen. Despite his ripped clothes and messy fur, he stood with staid dignity in the harsh lighting of exaggerated moonlight. At one end of the room were two things that made me jump¡ªI mean, two living things. A couple of jaguars were sitting right there on velvet cushions. Jaguars! And one was staring right at me! Everything the Teague Terminal had said about certain cats having mystical powers came back to me in a panic. But as the jaguar rose, lumbered toward me, and passed harmlessly through my frozen form, I realized that was not the case this time. If it had been, we¡¯d no doubt have a paradox on our hands. Discussion from the next room over whispered in my ear. It sounded like a tearful family reunion, and by ¡°tearful¡± I mean the kinds of tears I¡¯d expect from a Victorian novel. I heard someone mention ¡°your too-long stay in the tropics,¡± a loud embrace and a wail. I¡­cringingly decided that maybe I wasn¡¯t meant to hear about that. Moreover, my headache was seriously getting to me. And so was the fact that I didn¡¯t know how Chora was doing! Not to mention how it was beginning to bother me that this whole place was maybe, possibly, a secret that I shouldn¡¯t even reveal to her. I hated that idea. Keeping a secret like this seemed pointless. I mean, this whole place was already magic¡ªwe wouldn¡¯t be saving anyone¡¯s sanity here! But if it came up¡ªif it had something to do with those other, more nefarious time stones¡ªthen of course I couldn¡¯t hide it. I figured I¡¯d just have to wait and see. Wait until I had more effective vocal cords, that is. ***
Current Location: Maggie Rocks (S.B3) Sub-Location: Lycanborn Mansion
It didn¡¯t feel right for it to still be afternoon. I emerged from the cellar hole and found myself positively blasted by sunlight from cracks overhead. But what felt worse was returning to an empty ruin. ¡­But it did feel better when I saw all the feathers lying everywhere, and smelled the distinct lack of blood. I still had to find Chora. For the important reason of finding out whether she was alright, and for the less important reason of getting help collecting all of these feathers. Wait¡­ Something gleamed in the corner of my eye. Really, it anti-gleamed, seeing as it was a dingy dirty sack. And yet it seemed to wink with the promise of a good idea. I looked around, my ears alert for any magpie sounds. There were certainly several in other rooms, just none here. Scared off. Methodically, I dragged the bag free from the slop heaps, opened it up, and then grabbed the feathers clump by clump and emptied them into the bag. After I figured I had enough, I dumped out the nine from my own Inventory too. Then I closed up the top as well as I could (meaning I closed my mouth around it a couple of times, only for it to open easily again) and Inventorized it. And it worked.
Burlap Sack A bag created eighty years ago. Currently contains 507 magpie feathers.
For some reason, this was the most accomplished I¡¯d felt all day. And I¡¯d pummeled birds and a mutant spider after suffering through acid and beaks to the gut!
Complete!
Quest: Solve a Really Easy Problem¡ªThe Limited Inventory Hack
Rewards: +Bonus EXP! +1 Gold!
EXP: 30% (767/2250)
¡­Did Sierra really just give me 50 Experience? Wow! Cruel! Not everyone could be good at lateral thinking! At that moment of, um, simultaneous victory and crushing defeat, I heard some familiar footsteps outside the shattered room. And I realized they¡¯d been casually roaming there all along¡ªthey were just closer now, and now that my feather-collecting task was done, I was paying fuller attention. I crept through an open doorway and spotted Chora in a hallway, hands on hips, scanning an enormous mound of trash straight out of a landfill. She glanced my way, then glanced back. ¡°Welcome back,¡± she said. ¡°I hope you¡¯re alright.¡± I could ask the same. I mean, she looked okay, but she had to be so tired she¡¯d flop over by evening. ¡°Mrah?¡± ¡°Oh, me? I¡¯m fine. And you were away long enough for me to recover. I haven¡¯t found much of real value. Enough change to buy some okay shoes, though.¡± She shook one hand in the air, as if handling a baggie. ¡°Like this much. Enough to fit a coin purse.¡± The hand went in her pocket. ¡°I¡¯m looking for that fancy wagon the villagers mentioned, but¡­see for yourself. If there was a wagon here, it¡¯s long since disassembled.¡± She reached over and grabbed a twisty scrap of brass from the top of the mound. ¡°And stuff like this is all I can find that hasn¡¯t just decomposed and filled up with worms.¡± I examined the umbrella I¡¯d found just before ejecting it.
Umbrella Not too fancy, not too cheap, this little black umbrella will keep rain out well for an estimated twenty more years.
Chora reached down and picked it up. ¡°Small, black¡­looks like what the flier said.¡± She turned to me again with a bit of a smile. ¡°Thank you, spirit. Hopefully you got a lot of training and sightseeing out of this journey, but¡­this is certainly the biggest win I can see.¡± She shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s something.¡± Not to be corny, but¡­yeah! It turned out this mansion really was something. 63. The House of Muesli I decided to wait patiently not far from the mansion while Chora made a trip to town and back. Nursing a headache meant I didn¡¯t fancy the chance to beat up more wild animals. And meanwhile, going all the way back to Outlast just to watch Chora hand off an umbrella¡­that didn¡¯t sound thrilling. Sitting here in the trees, watching the sunlight grow late-afternoon yellow, also gave me a chance to interrogate Sierra, or try to. ¡­Hey, didn¡¯t you give me a Quest earlier? Wasn¡¯t I supposed to get an exotic vase for this?
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
No! Come on, be reasonable. You never found a ¡°treasure cache,¡± you just found random stuff! In fact, I don¡¯t think you¡¯re ever gonna find one, so¡­
Failed!
Quest¡ªFind the Magpies¡¯ Treasure Cache
All rewards null and void!
But I was unfazed by this news, and persistent! Ha! I thought. Now I have you on the line! Don¡¯t shut your ears (or¡­eyes) and pretend we¡¯re disconnected! Tell me what was up with those statues and with that dog girl, and also what about that dragon guy who according to legend is an alcoholic riddled with regret (possibly because you never visit)?!
Uh¡­ Shoot, that¡¯s the problem with deities having a direct connection to their followers, isn¡¯t it? Kinda sucks the mystery out of some of the mysteries I¡¯m trying to let unfold before you. Good thing you can¡¯t hear the tone of my voice, or I would be screwed! But, um, yeah. Teague is my girlfriend, and she seems to make the universe happier by her very existence. That¡¯s a talent I never had. I guess you can only be oh-so-clever or oh-so-nice in this world, not both at once.
When I was right about to finish reading that, a new notification showed up, erasing the old:
Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata has disconnected.
*** That night, the cabin welcomed us with faint light and a fresh drizzle. The drizzle didn¡¯t matter¡ªall the better to disguise Chora¡¯s metric tons of sweat after a long run. And all the better for me to¡­be drenched so I suffer even more for no reason, since cats don¡¯t sweat anyway. We had just run a marathon. That¡¯s what it felt like: galloping through the hilly, almost parkoury path from the Lycanborn Mansion to Reed¡¯s Cabin, slipping and tripping over the occasional mud patch. Early on, I gained the lead, and at the time I¡¯d felt especially good about that because a mere five minutes into the run, Chora had slowed down dramatically and was glugging out of her water bottle. The race was definitely unfair. Leaving aside whatever Stat advantages I¡¯d just received from Leveling Up the same day, I was fresh, whereas Chora had just crossed loads of wilderness. Nonetheless, when I gestured for a race and made my request clear, she agreed¡ªand could no longer complain! Just kidding. I wouldn¡¯t have blamed her for barking at me for that. When she slowed down mid-run, I thought she was giving up. She was not, and this was only part of her strategy of rigorously scheduled breaks in between all-out sprinting. And this time, she had heel-bursts of wind that were far more concentrated and impactful, to the point where I wondered if she¡¯d been practicing as she toted the umbrella. I took no breaks at all, and I would¡¯ve lost if I hadn¡¯t full-tilt Leaped at the very final stretch. Despite that, my lead on Chora wasn¡¯t that impressive. She¡¯d come jogging into the clearing a mere minute later, her face virtually unchanged save for the waterfall of sweat. And now we stood before the cabin¡¯s front door, breathing heavily under the rain. A hollow victory, but still a victory.
EXP: 61% (1568/2250)
But once I saw the EXP roll in, suddenly it didn¡¯t feel so hollow anymore. Maybe someday, when she was less tired and more fully in-tune with her own powers, we could have a fairer fight, and I¡¯d have the power boost of a lifetime. Just as I was pondering this secret to ultimate power, the door of the faintly lit cabin opened. I wasn¡¯t sure whether to be happy that it showed signs of life and hospitality, or to pity their disrupted human sleep schedules. On the other side were Reed and Bayce, both dressed in pajamas. That dull light highlighted their edges with faint fire-flickers of red. ¡°Welcome back!¡± cried Reed. ¡°Welcome back! I can see you¡¯re all gross and sweaty,¡± Bayce said. ¡°Come in and get changed already!¡± ¡°¡­I don¡¯t appreciate being called ¡®gross,¡¯¡± Chora said. ¡°They¡¯re jokes, Chora! I¡¯m just being lighthearted!¡± Chora narrowed her eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t be so careless. You should make sure our cat friend understands that, so that we don¡¯t¡ª¡± Reed coughed really extremely loudly. ¡°We apologize for any offense,¡± she said slowly and deliberately, ¡°and get on with the business of welcoming you.¡± ¡°Right,¡± said Bayce. ¡°Wait,¡± Chora said, ¡°please don¡¯t tell me you expected us tonight and last night, and stayed up late just to¡­just for us to not come.¡± Bayce blew her fears off. ¡°It¡¯s like eight o¡¯clock, it¡¯s not hurting anybody.¡± Reed said, ¡°We prepared all of us a special after-midnight supper.¡± ¡°One that wouldn¡¯t go bad if you never came back!¡± ¡°Except the milk.¡± ¡°Yeah!¡± ¡°And please don¡¯t tell me you don¡¯t like milk!¡± Reed cried, looking right at me. ¡°I¡¯ve seen you liking milk! So please, come in, towel off, and enjoy a buffet of muesli!¡± She said ¡°a buffet of muesli¡± like it was the star of a Vegas show. ¡°There¡¯s also s¡¯mores,¡± said Bayce. ¡°But also, the muesli comes in fun flavors.¡± ¡°The fun flavors,¡± Bayce noted, ¡°are always trying to imitate better foods.¡± Chora said, ¡°S¡¯mores aren¡¯t better. They¡¯re pillows of sugar on planks of sugar. Hardly food. And you know you only made them to try and one-up Reed¡¯s s¡¯moresli.¡± Bayce cheerfully stuck her tongue out. ¡°Somehow I don¡¯t think artificially sweetened oats with sugar-blasted raisins is the multivitamin of the food world.¡± Reed frowned. ¡°Uhh, all food has value?¡± Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. ¡°Whatever,¡± Chora said. ¡°Thank you both for your efforts. Let¡¯s just eat.¡± I agreed fully. The two young women led us to the den. It turned out that the faint light I had been seeing was the fireplace, lit in isolation. Instead of sitting at the table, Bayce had been reclining on one sofa (the one that wasn¡¯t my bed) while Reed had been sitting on the floor in a bundle of blankets. ¡°Blankets and s¡¯mores by an open fire¡­ That¡¯s a fire hazard,¡± said Chora. ¡°It sure is,¡± said Bayce, ¡°but I have enough Water Spells.¡± ¡°Also,¡± Reed said, jumping at the chance to introduce all the food and drink options, ¡°there¡¯s hot and cold water ready for you, along with the cold milk, and we made some hot chocolate, and there¡¯s still lots of tea.¡± ¡°Ah, I got some complementary tea from Outlast,¡± said Chora, and she went on to explain our whole journey there and back. Right now, I was focused more on the food. Reed and Chora came with me to the kitchen and helped me pick out a glass of milk, conspicuously avoid the muesli, toss the last of the fried fish into a pan along with some onions and leeks, and continue to avoid the muesli. Chora, at least, got a very large bowl of it. All of this was heaped on a tray in Reed¡¯s hands. ¡°¡­seemed interested in collecting their feathers,¡± Chora was saying. ¡°Ahh, that must be for Bayce¡¯s cantrip,¡± said Reed. ¡°Ohh¡­¡± It was super weird to have people talking about me, right over my head, with no idea how their lines of communication matched up until they tied their loose ends up with each other again. ¡°Did you get enough, friend? Feathers, not food.¡± ¡°Meow¡­¡± I said hesitantly. ¡°I guess you¡¯ll have to check with Bayce?¡± I nodded. Then, realizing we were in a kitchen for cripes¡¯ sake, and that I had an item in my Inventory technically classified as crunchy meat, I realized that I could be giving these people a present of my own. I mean, they always needed meat here. And if they couldn¡¯t eat it, I would. I myself refused to eat hearty assortments of alpine nuts and grains, so in that sense, it was only fair. Without warning (how was I really going to warn them anyway), I turned toward an empty spot on the counter and dumped out the magpuck corpse. Splorcht. ¡°Aah!¡± Reed shouted. ¡°Ah,¡± Chora reacted. ¡°AUGH!¡± cried a voice from the other room. ¡°What is that smell? We really need to get rid of that trash.¡± Reed cried back, ¡°It¡¯s not the trash! It¡¯s a special surprise from our good friend, come see!¡± ¡°Okay¡­¡± I heard every slow rustle of Bayce dragging herself away from the non-smelly fire. Reed and Chora had crowded around the body on the counter, as well as the greenish-reddish puddle underneath it. If I¡¯d known there was so much fluid in there, I would¡¯ve at least grabbed a towel¡­but nobody turned around to catch my apologetic look. Chora pinched a leg. ¡°The cat spirit appears to have brought us¡­a terrible demon. Right?¡± Reed said, ¡°Or is this just a unique, one-of-a-kind animal?¡± ¡°Meow!¡± I affirmed, dearly hoping that my Inventory wasn¡¯t wrong or misleading on this. Now Bayce was here, and after gagging for several seconds, she concluded with absolute conviction, ¡°That¡¯s a magpuck.¡± Reed covered her mouth with quiet surprise. ¡°I thought those went extinct¡­¡± Bayce was awestruck in her own way. ¡°They did.¡± She launched into the sad story of a clutch of magpuck eggs found a century ago in an ancient, volcano-stricken city. Some were traded off to unsavory private collectors. Others went off, famously, to a seedy zoo, and all eyes were on them, hoping they would breed. But no more eggs were laid¡­and the last surviving magpuck was taxidermied, then stolen. Wow! That story was almost more nauseating than the body. If only Vencians knew that just putting a huge concentration of feathers in one place for a thousand years would produce them. I followed my cabinmates back to the den. We all needed a rest, after all. Onto the tray of food and milk, Reed had added even more cereal product, plus hot drinks. A deep bowl of cold milk was reserved for me. Everything was set in the middle of our pillow-seats and quilts. I dug in. *** Three marshmallows on a long, bare branch hovered over the fire until their edges blackened. Trying a marshmallow sounded good right about now. So did trying the crackers and chocolate that went with them.
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
Please don¡¯t eat chocolate.
¡ªOh yeah, poison. Got it¡­ ¡°Hey, cat,¡± Bayce said. She was holding the branch in the laziest-yet-highest-effort way possible: while her body lounged on the sofa, her head and right arm jutted off the edge, getting her just far enough to comfortably hold up the marshmallows. (If that could be called ¡°comfort.¡± What a daredevil.) ¡°You want one?¡± I pointed at the marshmallows and at a box of crackers by the sofa, avoiding the chocolate. ¡°That¡¯s sad,¡± said Bayce. ¡°Cats don¡¯t eat chocolate? Or¡ªhorror of horrors¡ªoats???¡± ¡°Why do you keep making fun of my oats?¡± said Reed, who was, by the way, eating a generous bowl of muesli and milk. ¡°It¡¯s the fact that you call them ¡®your oats¡¯ that makes them so mockable.¡± Chora herself was eating a huge bowl of them, conspicuously avoiding the pieces that looked somewhat sugar-blasted. Even so¡­ ¡°Oats are the blandest food,¡± said Chora. ¡°Even with add-ons. It¡¯s a fact.¡± ¡°Oats,¡± Reed said with a presidential air, ¡°have sustained humanity for generations. They¡¯re the lord of grains! Early farmers raised civilizations on oats alone.¡± ¡°That was wheat,¡± said Chora. I bared my fangs at her. I had to stand by Reed, even if I agreed that oats weren¡¯t very powerful! ¡°Look, Reed, I love myself some oats, and I honor and respect you for preparing so many, but you¡¯re never going to make oats cool. In any form.¡± ¡°Oops,¡± Bayce said, staring at her ¡®mallows. Chora squinted at them. ¡°¡­Those caught on fire, didn¡¯t they?¡± ¡°A bit.¡± ¡°Why didn¡¯t you try to put them out?¡± ¡°You want spit on your s¡¯mores?¡± she sneered. ¡°Anyway, tell me if you want these or I¡¯ll throw them in the overflowing trash.¡± Reed and I raised a hand and a paw. Soon I was handed a graham cracker with a bump of sludge on it, a substance that looked both hard and soft at the same time. I bit in. It was¡ªheavenly! Probably because of my weird cat taste buds. ¡°Mmm!¡± Reed hummed, obviously lying. ¡°That¡¯s about a six out of ten, in my book.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± said Bayce. ¡°No good.¡± ¡°It¡¯s the start of good.¡± Bayce¡¯s mouth fell open. She leaned upright-ish on her forearm and cried, ¡°No it¡¯s not! A six is on the cusp of mediocre!¡± Chora simmered. ¡°Numbers are numbers,¡± she said, pretending not to have a reaction¡­but as a wise goddess once told me, pretending not to react is the biggest and angriest reaction of all. More marshmallows were roasted, this time to the proper consistency. But as Bayce taught me, there were multiple ¡°proper ways.¡± Bayce preferred hers to have a brownish edge, while Reed wanted hers white yet gooey. Chora, of course, wanted none. I wanted mine as black as the spirit of the Beacon. Conversation flowed from the current eats to Bayce¡¯s study habits (consistently inconsistent) and Reed¡¯s plans for the next week (camping when the skies were clear again¡ªreading, painting, and woodcraft until then). I listened with full attention until Bayce started talking about fortuitous star signs again. By that point, though, Bayce was starting to yawn dramatically. Curving around like a snake, hands standing on the floor, she brought her head close to Reed¡¯s and said, ¡°Hey, I¡¯m about to¡­¡± Reed¡¯s eyes widened with concern. ¡°Wh-what?¡± Bayce came closer¡­closer¡­until she was practically leaning on Reed¡¯s shoulder. Reed brought her ear closer. ¡°No, look at me,¡± said Bayce. She did. Then Bayce yawned in her face with the widest, most uvula-exposing yawn possible. Reed flicked her head away and put her hands up in laughing surrender¡ªboth amused and horrified. ¡°Augh, go to bed, Bayce!¡± ¡°It¡¯s okay, you can hit me!¡± Reed managed a playful slap against her cheek. That satisfied Bayce, who slinked off the sofa once and for all. ¡°G¡¯night, people,¡± she drawled. ¡°Hey, cat, I fed you tonight. Can I give you scritches yet?¡± Ack! My whole body twitched in sudden horror. If Bayce started scritching, I was certain she¡¯d graduate into grabbing and hugging, then into flinging me around. But we¡¯d been doing so good lately! She hadn¡¯t descended into baby talk once! I stared viciously at her. ¡°Scritches? Rubbies? Tumtums?¡± Her hand squirmed evocatively. I looked away. ¡°Maow-w-w¡­¡± Chora said, ¡°Bayce, why are you like this?¡± I sensed venom in her voice¡­but evidently her old friends didn¡¯t see it that way. Reed laughed, and then Bayce snorted. And at that, even Chora smiled. ¡°If you wanna rub somebody hairy, just put a wig on a frog.¡± ¡°In that case, I could just rub myself.¡± ¡°Good night, everyone,¡± Chora said¡ªand she pointed straight at the staircase. Bayce stumble-jogged off, almost crashing into the banister, then hoisted herself away. She waved as if seeing off her adoring fans. In a way, she was. Giving her the feathers could definitely wait for tomorrow, once she was, y¡¯know, fully lucid. ¡°Good night!¡± Reed shouted up. ¡°Meow,¡± I said gently. And Bayce was gone. We looked on in silence at her, then the void where she just was, and didn¡¯t look away until we heard the telltale closing of her door. Chora¡¯s comical mood changed on a dime. ¡°Reed, cat spirit, I really appreciate the both of you,¡± she said the moment we heard a door close upstairs. ¡°Sometimes I also appreciate Bayce¡­but I don¡¯t like struggling to say it when she¡¯s around. It¡¯s just¡­hard to be sincere, when she¡¯s around, and I feel like I have to pal around all of a sudden, you know?¡± I could almost hear the whiplash. ¡°Um¡­¡± Reed looked away to the fire and blinked. ¡°Thank you, I appreciate you too¡­¡± I could tell she was struggling to climb over a hill of awkwardness. I was too! By mixing her honest feelings about Bayce into compliments for us, she really tanked the atmosphere. Did she even realize that? It kind of annoyed me, and I wished I could say it. Not that I would know how. Human manners were a minefield. ¡°I¡¯m working off of assumptions,¡± Reed said, ¡°but you must have had a long two days away from your temporary home. And maybe that¡¯s not making it any easier to hang out with all of us right now.¡± Chora took a long exhale. ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°I can admit that. Thanks for turning my insult around, too. That could have been¡­really bad.¡± ¡°Why are you like this?¡± I could¡¯ve just as easily said that about Chora¡ªor anyone I knew. Why¡¯d they have to take potshots at each other? They had good moments. And they had an entire backstory¡¯s worth of them, if the moments I¡¯d seen weren¡¯t enough! But¡­maybe there was nothing I could do. Maybe they should just work it out themselves. Still, as Reed and Chora hugged, and Chora drifted up to her own bedroom, I couldn¡¯t help but feel helpless. Well, at least I could do little things. Like learn how to do what Reed did with Chora¡¯s insult, diffusing the tension by turning it into something more fun. Until then, I¡¯d be limited to giving them strange meat at random times, but hey. 64. The Deepest Pool With the other two housemates asleep or just gone, Reed and I were alone in the den of the cabin. The fire still had a lot left in it. Chunky logs sizzled away. A couple of twiggy, ash-coated bundles sat next to it, each solidly smaller than the palm of Reed¡¯s hand. Fuel for the fire? Incredibly small fuel. We ate in silence for a little while¡ªme eating crackers, Reed eating muesli, me swaddled in the blankets, her leaning back on pillows with legs outstretched. Then she started to twiddle her feet. They tapped each other and swayed back and forth. She looked up at the ceiling, and I followed suit. ¡°What do you like to do, cat friend?¡± My ears flicked. I knew a decent amount of the things Reed liked to do, but besides drinking milk and killing small animals, she didn¡¯t have a clue about my own interests. Then again¡­what were my interests? I didn¡¯t exactly have humanesque hobbies. Humans might go butterfly collecting and pin their catches to a wall. I mainly just liked swatting at them. An Earth human who didn¡¯t have at least one abiding interest at least listened to cool things on the radio. But on Vencia, radio maybe didn¡¯t exist. Humans often wore their hobbies on their sleeves, but most of the time I didn¡¯t have sleeves. So, really, aside from me toying with my System and talking to Sierra (the latter of which I did sometimes like doing, but I always hated myself for it), I had no hobbies that a human couldn¡¯t gather from watching me prance around outside for five minutes. For my response, I settled on a questioning, ¡°Mraow?¡± ¡°I figure you probably don¡¯t do many human activities, but maybe you¡­wouldn¡¯t mind doing them?¡± I tilted my head. Like what? ¡°Things like puzzles and games, and story¡ªsorry, maybe not storytelling.¡± Her feet tapped with the rhythm of her thoughts. ¡°Or, hey, maybe there is a way we could play a story together!¡± I squinted, thinking she must be throwing the wrong nouns and verbs together. But the more she explained it, the clearer it was that what she had in mind really was both telling a story and playing a game. ¡°So one person pretends to be the main character in the story,¡± she said, ¡°moving through the world, making decisions. The other person plays the author. And dice, or cards, or some other way of determining random events, make everything unpredictable!¡± She tamped down her excitement. ¡°Unless you¡¯re not interested. There are tons of other things we can do. Or none at all!¡± But clearly she was revved up. I wasn¡¯t sure how I felt about this¡ªI still didn¡¯t really get it. But that wouldn¡¯t stop me from trying it! Still, I pointed up toward the stairs and gave a questioning ¡°meow?¡± ¡°They don¡¯t really like story games. And the only crowd-pleaser I have is Panoply, which takes forever¡­ Bayce really doesn¡¯t need more excuses not to study.¡± Had Reed even ever played this with someone else before? As she returned from her room, tiptoeing back downstairs, reading over the rulebook on the way, I decided that no, she probably hadn¡¯t. But she clearly loved the idea, and I was starting to get into it too. Hopefully these were magic cards, like magical virtual reality! The idea of being in another-nother world was just too funny. She plopped down in front of me and said, ¡°Ho-kay, this is a game inspired by the children¡¯s story Merianne in Otherland. Remove the top five cards and lay them out¡­these will represent the player¡¯s Attack, Intelligence, Defense, Wisdom, and Speed¡­¡± Oh, wow, it was that kind of story game. What followed was a two-player tabletop role-playing campaign, one with a massive amount of events left up to dice rolls, card draws, and the nigh-infinite tables in the rulebook. Merianne reached too far forward into the river and ended up falling in, but instead of drowning, she fell into a wacky universe filled with nonsense beings. Half of them wanted to take her soul and the other half invited her to eat cheese and crackers. ¡°Will you dine with the Relentless Badger?¡± I shook my head. Then, by tapping on the card representing my Attack Stat (cards with suits from 1 to 10 make a really unbalanced Stat spread, but at least an 8 in Attack was something to be proud of), I signaled my desire to battle. ¡°Engarde!¡± said Reed, raising a fist. She¡¯d been cautious about her volume before, but now that was starting to slip. The more she got into the world, the more I did too. Frankly, cats don¡¯t have much of a need for imagination. Aside from pragmatic stuff, and maybe creatively insulting those we dislike, we have no pressing need to daydream up weird stories. Going into this game, I had no interest in dreaming up my own world the way you might have to with a book, but Reed¡¯s enthusiasm was really rubbing off on me. Plus, defeating fictional badger-humans was rewarding! Under my careful guidance, Merianne narrowly avoided transforming into a pumpkin and rotting to a slow death. She fenced the King of Sours to a stalemate, then slipped at the last minute due to a lousy dice roll and left a laughingstock. Then she talked to the wrong fox¡ªand was eaten. ¡°Wow!¡± Reed said. ¡°I was pretty sure she¡¯d be a kind one.¡± I shook my head, both to show my own disbelief and to mourn the loss of a totally fictional character. ¡°Aww. If you like, you can give Merianne a saving throw. But she¡¯ll have to lose something great, like a high Stat, or an item she holds dear.¡± Death has to hurt a little. Didn¡¯t I hear something like that before? Reed was fighting off sleep with sheer love of the game. But I could see the bleariness in her eyes, and possibly she could see it in mine too. I shook my head more, for longer, making a huge giant sweep of my head. Then I curled up on the floor and closed my eyes. ¡°I can keep going!¡± she blurted. ¡°If you¡¯re worried about me¡ª¡± ¡°Maow!¡± I insisted. I was not looking out for her exclusively! We¡¯d come to a natural endpoint, now that Merianne¡¯s soul was suspended in whatever ether Vencians called the afterlife. She grinned and gave in. ¡°I guess it has been long enough! Good game, though. Or good work, maybe I should say?¡± She started scooping the cards back together. ¡°Just let me clean up here¡­¡± You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. That could all wait for tomorrow! I hissed, violently shaking my head. Everything but the fire, just leave here! And yet the last thing I saw as my head sagged deep in the blankets was Reed shifting the dining tray off the blankets, then beginning to fold the top one. My consciousness slid seamlessly into my dreams, and my dreams were a kaleidoscope looking upon everything I¡¯ve done, highway steel crossing into nightships, twinkling of gold leaf, stars of untold name and meaning taking me in and I dissolved until I was exactly fifty. Apple cinnamon zest palm fronds over pink lemonade seafoam with gray waves splashing me under the sea, until I was just as lost, everything made warm. Even in my sleep, I wasn¡¯t weightless. But I did feel dizzy. Light in the head and light in the body. Somehow I was ecstatic just to be living here. *** The next morning, I lurched¡ªsome instinct, or some end-part of the dream that I¡¯d already forgotten, told me that Reed had left and I should be scared. But that wouldn¡¯t make sense. Reed was gone, but she was in her room! ¡­No she wasn¡¯t. She was here downstairs, still near me, asleep, and her arms were underneath mine. I didn¡¯t have arms, usually. ¡ªI¡¯d transformed? In my sleep?! Again?!?! Whyyy¡­ Add to that the weird position my body was in, or¡­not weird, just hard to get out of without stirring Reed. In my sleep, I¡¯d been sort of sideways-hugging her while leaning forward, my legs folded sideways-under me. Like I was halfway-sideways praying to Reed, prostrating myself. Huh. I¡¯d chosen the exact right moment to get clothes. Never before had I seen a sleeping human this close, her face so peaceful. I didn¡¯t wanna wake Reed up, not when she¡¯d clearly worked hard to get things going last night, and stayed up a little too long. So how the heck was I going to escape without shifting her around? The first thing to occur to me was that I could simply Morph back, but the poof made noise, and that was a risk. The sudden jarring movement of her arms, torso and face as they hit the ground would be a risk too. But if I pushed my human reflexes to the limit, maybe I could sliiide my arms out¡­as if they were blocks in a big rickety block tower. I steeled myself. By shuffling backward on my shins and keeping my arms perfectly stiff, I could do it! Shf shf shf shf. With each shimmy, I inched just a smidgen farther. My arms came away from her middle with the lightest possible touch. Ooh, I was good at this after all. I bet her shirt didn¡¯t even wrinkle when I let it go. Not more than three minutes later (yeah!), I was out, still prostrating myself but now officially doing it before Reed, not around her. It had all gone smoothly until, right after my victory, Reed¡¯s eyes drawled open of their own accord. Then she rolled over. It was horribly sloppy, and ¡°terrific¡± in the biblical sense. She tried to stay on her side and then, victim of gravity, slid completely onto her forehead. Luckily, that bopped into a plush blanket. (I guessed that was why everyone used so many.) She was the unwitting Jenga tower, and I had made her fall. Aw, no¡­then she woke up for real with a yelp and flung herself upright so fast that she bopped the back of her head against the foot part of the couch behind her. Aw, Reed¡­ Overcome with the urge to escape, I instinctively changed back into my cat form and¡ª Realized that there was no time to run away, since Reed had just caught sight of me! (Plus, even if I¡¯d tried, I would¡¯ve ruffled the carpet, the blankets, or some of the many cracker and plate leavings from last night!) ¡°¡ªMeow,¡± I meowed, my body turned toward the stairway, my head staring at her expressionlessly. Reed was rubbing the front and back of her head at the same time. ¡°Ouch¡­darn¡­I don¡¯t usually wake up like that¡­¡± She blinked up at me, then put on a fresh smile. ¡°Good morning!¡± Indefatigable! Her attention flitted to the big mess around us. ¡°Oh! How could I not have put all these things away last night? I¡¯m so sorry.¡± I grumbled, knowing it would be too hard to tell her what I wanted to say. Which was: don¡¯t be angry at yourself, for crying out loud, get angry at me for probably-sorta making you hurt yourself just now! It was kinda¡­sad. And yet also valiant. She didn¡¯t seem to assume any ill will from me. She didn¡¯t assume anything at all. The least I could do was change into a catgirl again and help pick up the dishes and stuff. I Morphed, then did my best to fold up the blanket I¡¯d just been lying on. ¡°Thanks,¡± she said as I struggled to match up corners. ¡°I appreciate it a lot. You really don¡¯t have to¡ª¡± ¡°Mraow!¡± She laughed. How dare she laugh?! ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll let you help as much as you want to¡­¡± Reed pitched in, and soon we had all the quilts piled back in the cabinet standing in the corner of the den. Frankly, she did the bulk of the blanket-folding. Hands just weren¡¯t for me yet. Once we¡¯d taken a couple final cups and bowls to the kitchen, Reed went to the rack of pots and pans and said, ¡°Now to make you¡ª¡± ¡°Mraow!¡± I cried. What was wrong with her?! When was she going to get herself ready?! That trail of saliva on half of her chin was still there! With a stern look, I pointed back to the stairway. Reed had a nervous smile. ¡°W-what room?¡± ¡°Meow.¡± ¡°Mine?¡± I pinched at the corner of my shirt. ¡°Oh my gosh! I didn¡¯t even notice your new outfit at first!¡± Reed was about to fall over herself with compliments, but that wasn¡¯t what I was after (though honestly, I would take it). Instead I made myself a little clearer, pinching her shirt. ¡°¡ªYou want me to get dressed,¡± she guessed. ¡°Meow.¡± ¡°Alright¡­I¡¯ll do that first, if you want me to.¡± I considered grabbing the skillet and preparing breakfast for Reed myself, only¡­I had no cooking skills. I didn¡¯t wanna break any pans. Instead, I checked my SP¡ª
SP 43% (144/333)
¡ªwhich was waning every second, yet surprisingly not too terrible. Maybe that was a sign that when things were low-stress, I lost less SP to Morph? Anyway, I decided to conserve my energy now that the idea was on my mind. I un-transformed. Reed went padding up the stairs. ¡°I¡¯ll be down soon! You just relax,¡± she said. ¡°Meow,¡± I said from the den. Then I ran onto the stairs and began to follow her. She stopped when I was at her ankles. ¡°D¡¯urr¡­what do you need now?¡± she said. I just bumped her ankle-lump-bone. ¡°¡­You¡¯re trying to follow me? But¡±¡ªnervous laughter¡ª¡°y-y-you can¡¯t do that! Not without warning! I-I-I need to¡ª¡± She bolted, ducking into that room at the end of the hall that I¡¯d never yet managed to find my way into. I ran after her, but as I went, she was already closing doors and swishing things away. When I arrived, she had just finished and was standing primly in front of a just-locked closet door. A bit of a shirt sleeve trailed out from under it. ¡°Th-th-th-this is my room¡­¡± More nervous laughter. ¡°You like it?¡± I walked into the center of the room, on a rug so plush it came up to my backwards cat-knees. Then I paused. There was so much to absorb that I had to just stop and stare. It was clear as day now that whatever wooden animal figures stood guard in Chora¡¯s room were drippings from Reed¡¯s own. Three whole rows of shelves along all four walls were dedicated to the creatures, who were close-packed and bound to multiply. And I could trace a variety of styles between them, one that must have spiraled out through the years. At the top in the far corner, they were small, rough, and painted in gaudy colors¡ªone even had googly eyes. The styles changed: all-bark, smooth-and-bark, cubist, botched realism, real realism, and all the way down and around to the languid style she had today. Art didn¡¯t stop there. A few canvases sat against the wall with the grand, lace-curtained window. Their colors were bold, their brushstrokes expressive, abstract. Vaguely I could see earthy colors below purple night skies, all smothered beneath emotional strokes. A dresser was topped with sketchbooks and writing tools. Another: assorted junk, eraser tops without pencils, curled sticky notes, and very tiny sepia photos in glittering frames. At a different end of the room was a bunk bed. Context clues told me that was a relic from the days when multiple siblings lived here and two or three no doubt shared a room. In fact, there was probably space for a third bed that got dumped at some point. The upper bunk had been converted into a kind of couch for people on stilts. ¡°I know it¡¯s messy and there¡¯s not really any place for you to sit¡­ You probably think some of this stuff is weird, and that¡¯s okay! I¡ª¡± A paw over my mouth and a very low purr stopped her there. Startled, she nodded and smiled. ¡°Okay,¡± she whispered. Hands behind her back, she parked herself against the wall, looking at me look. This was good, and being outside, and on my own, was also good. And she was good, they were all good. Someday I would let them know that. On the same day, I would thank them. ¡­Okay, what was that smell? It was coming from the window. I drew closer to it with my head high in the air, trying to signal to Reed. She didn¡¯t get what I meant at first, but then she followed me to the windowsill and shoved it open. That was when the aroma of the trash directly below us hit us in the face. Hm, maybe my sense of smell was actually a step above humans. What did it? Higher Wisdom¡ªme concentrating on a sense when it hit me? Higher Attack¡ªattack of the nose, that is?? Well, either way, before I could go around thanking anybody, we¡¯d have to work on the trash bags first. 65. Trash Expedition Right outside the cabin, not far from the kitchen¡¯s side-door, there were two open tin canisters full of trash in burlap sacks. They weren¡¯t just full¡ªthey were beginning to tower. Maybe Vencians had never heard of compost piles. Or, rather, the animals of the forest were their compost piles. I saw a couple of crows standing on top and pecking at the trash like entrails, but it seemed no animal would take more than a few scraps. Obviously the cans were intended for some true omnivores with hardy stomachs¡ªno wonder Bayce and Reed had been talking about getting the raccoons to deal with the trash last night. Why didn¡¯t they just magic it away? Did that cost money? Too time-consuming? Why didn¡¯t they just buckle down and develop their own tougher stomachs so they could eat their own trash themselves? I¡¯d asked myself similar questions about humans in the city more times than I could count. Now that I stood in Reed¡¯s room with my head up high like a scuba diver¡¯s snorkel, sniffed deply, and really mulled over what I was picking up, I was discovering that the ripe smell today was the natural consequence of the not-that-bad smell of last night. I knew the problem all too well. There was too much old meat and bone in there. ¡°Oh yeah!¡± Reed finally said. ¡°That trash, I¡¯ve been meaning to go deal with it. Ever since the raccoons, um¡­¡± She waved the subject away, obviously not wanting to insult me. I knew what she was referring to, though: when I came and lapped up the raccoons¡¯ milk offering, their living trash disposal armada had taken it to heart and never come back. ¡°Ever since that happened, we¡¯ve just been ignoring the issue. So I¡¯ll jump on it! I¡¯ll go change after a shower.¡± She dug through a dresser and rushed away. I seriously hoped she wasn¡¯t about to head out without slowing down and eating first! Well, fine, if taking out the trash was only gonna last five minutes, maybe that was okay. But now that I had started the day with Reed, I kind of wanted to keep this going. When she showed me her room and all of the artistry in it, she showed me the innermost parts of her mind¡ªor that¡¯s what it felt like to me. Even if I still couldn¡¯t totally grasp art or the need for it, I knew what it meant to master technique and to revel in your power to do it, then experiment, innovate. And whatever I couldn¡¯t grasp, somehow I trusted to be amazing. Was Reed a master or an amateur? I wasn¡¯t equipped in the slightest to tell one way or the other. To me, it didn¡¯t matter. I hopped down the stairs and caught Bayce in the den. She was making space for the dining table, looking both fabulous and exhausting. How was that even possible? ¡°Meow,¡± I said in greeting. ¡°Hey, cat,¡± she said groggily. ¡°I forgot to ask, did you scrounge up any feathers while you were away?¡± Without hesitation, I summoned the sack full of magpie feathers. Sadly, I unleashed it a little too high up, and several were sent puffing and drifting in the air above us. Bayce coughed, but they were joyful coughs! Swishing one hand in the air, she said, ¡°Aw, this is amazing! I can¡ªBLEH, KEH-HEH¡ªreally put a hurting on your cantrip with this!¡± Okay, maybe those were no longer joyful coughs, but at least she was more authentically happy now than that time I gave her a useless decaying spellbook.
Quest: Collect Ingredients for the Reading Cantrip
Progress: 66% (2/3)
Bayce managed to shove most of the lost feathers back in, then sealed it up with a rubber band from a kitchen cabinet. The bag disappeared, seemingly into one of four bracelets she was currently wearing. She looked chipper, but the cough and the bags under her eyes were kind of¡­ ¡°Meow?¡± I asked. ¡°The what?¡± I pointed a paw at her face. ¡°You like my eyes?¡± Um, incidentally yes I did, but I ignored that and instead made a curving motion. ¡°Rings under my eyes?¡± Nod nod. She sighed hugely. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s nothing. I stayed up way past bedtime¡ªnot that I have a real bedtime, but¡ªyeah, I mean, there¡¯s a lot to catch up on. I was trying to cram the names of all the famous anatomagi they¡¯ll expect me to know¡­¡± ¡°Meow?¡± ¡°No! No, I forgot everything. Then I just read magazines. Ah¡­¡± She was overcome with a yawn. ¡°Seriously, cat, you and these cantrips are like the light of my life right now. I can¡¯t make myself excited about anything else but school, stars, and food.¡± Was that even a compliment? I hadn¡¯t done anything except be needy and occasionally provide for my own needy needs. I meowed graciously, though. My ears picked up something: absence of a sound. The shower upstairs had just cut off, reminding me of Reed¡¯s existence. Which gave me the idea to ask Bayce about Reed¡ªor ¡°ask,¡± with extremely heavy scare quotes. I dashed off without explanation to pick up an item I¡¯d seen on the floor, apparently dropped. Then I was back, and I de-Inventorized it on the table that Bayce had just set out. ¡°A paintbrush, eh?¡± she said. ¡°Thanks but no thanks. This already belongs to someone.¡± I stared up at her from the other side of the table, pressing for more. ¡°Yes, yes, more information: this is Reed¡¯s paintbrush, one of many, and she cherishes them. Long nights she spends painting stories of the stars. Except you can¡¯t understand those stories when you look at them unless you¡¯ve got an essay on a placard right next to ¡®em.¡± She shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m a plebeian.¡± ¡°Meow¡­¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t mean she sucks at it!¡± Bayce cried, taking offense at me taking offense. ¡°It¡¯s just a school of art I¡¯ll never understand. Sometimes I do like the pretty colors. But me as Plebeian Art Critic admires her wood carvings a lot more. Just wish she would paint some stuff with obvious living creatures in it¡ª¡± Her last word ended with an odd tone, an offbeat. At this point, I¡¯d been in enough human conversations to notice when a sentence stopped wrong. A second later, Bayce stared off, eyes narrowed. ¡°The trash. Why am I smelling the trash?¡± A voice hollered from upstairs, ¡°The window¡¯s open!¡± The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Reed was free! And, as she made clear in her next holler, she was deeply sorry about exposing us all to the trash air. A distant window slammed. ¡°So,¡± Bayce said nonchalantly, ¡°you two are going out to deal with the trash today, right?¡± My eyes shone like the sun. ¡°Meow!¡± I cried. I would¡¯ve done a hopping dance if I wasn¡¯t afraid that would inspire Bayce to pick me up. ¡°That¡¯s wonderful!¡± she cooed. ¡°And are you going to arbitrarily extend that journey so that Reed can take a flippin¡¯ break for once?¡± U-uh, sure?! Wait, that wasn¡¯t such a terrible idea after all! In fact, the extension didn¡¯t even have to be arbitrary! I¡¯d need to go down to the absurdly pointy southern mountains for the last piece of my reading cantrip. I needed to collect poledust from the Kaugs, and as Bayce had told me many days ago, that was a highly technical matter¡ªI¡¯d need an extra pair of hands. Not to dismiss Reed as nothing more than hands. She was also a blade! And the hands could draw! ¡­Never mind, this was sounding worse. Now Bayce was dancing around, for real! It was a disturbing sight. But cool that she was so thrilled about Reed enjoying an impromptu camping trip! ¡­Reed would enjoy it, right? I couldn¡¯t very well ask that question, so I¡¯d just have to watch Bayce propose the idea and judge whether Reed liked having a surprise like that sprung on her. We let her command the kitchen first. Breakfast was peach wedges, waffles, catfish steak fried in breading and some kind of burgundy juice, and ¨C magpies! A bunch of magpies! Chora must¡¯ve brought that in. I hoped she¡¯d get some good leftovers to eat. Not only that, but these were artfully prepared with pieces salvaged from the magpuck! Reed had really put a hurting on this dish. She¡¯d done it up like an exhibit in one of those ancient 1950s cookbooks, the ones with recipes nobody in the years since would even consider food. Magpie feathers were stuck into the rind of a big fruit between a tomato and a pumpkin, as if they were dusty flower petals or the rays of an evil sun. Two grapey fruits were also stabbed into the tomato-pumpkin with toothpicks. These were the eyes. The whole thing ¡°levitated¡± over its plate thanks to a glass stand. But the piece de resistance was the eight spiderleg-prongs radiating out from the bottom of the fruit. Magpuck legs and other spare parts were scattered ornamentally around this centerpiece. At least everything smelled good. Besides, it was made with love! As Reed and assistant Bayce brought in the goods platter by platter, Reed said modestly, ¡°This is my first time cooking magpies and magpucks, but I just ported over my recipe for chickens. I hope it works well enough!¡± ¡°Reed,¡± said Bayce, dead serious, ¡°if it weren¡¯t for you, I¡¯d be eating nothing but frog ribs. As long it doesn¡¯t contain oats, this whole house is happy.¡± ¡°Meow! Meow!¡± Reed rubbed the back of her neck. ¡°Thank you, you two.¡± The only way I could reassure her was by digging in with the rest. *** The first order of business at the breakfast table: describing the starsigns influencing yesterday and today! ¡°Reed,¡± said Bayce, popping a thick waffle slice into her mouth, ¡°I¡¯m seeing a good chance for connection in your future.¡± ¡°That¡¯s because my cat friend,¡± said Reed, biting off half a crispy magpuck leg, ¡°is welcome to help me take out the trash.¡± ¡°But,¡± said Bayce, ¡°what if¡­¡± ¡°What if what?¡± ¡°What if Cheyoran was hovering over the Kaugs tomorrow?¡± Reed paused in her chewing, looked away for a moment. ¡°It would mean that I should be there tomorrow?¡± Bayce hammered the table. ¡°That¡¯s right! What if the cat was also, by sheer coincidence, going down to the Kaugs to collect some poledust? And what if she¡¯d never done it before and could use some help?¡± With a giggle, Reed copied her insincerity. ¡°Well, gee, it would seem that I really should join her!¡± I nodded my approval, and after that, Bayce taught us both a little about the poledust extraction process. There was more to it than simply walking up to the mountains and milking its¡­mountain¡­udders. It involved a drill, and a ¡°stabilizer,¡± and other complicated stuff that went in one ear and out the other. She also told Reed to bring a coat. Wait¡­surely we weren¡¯t going that far south¡­ Once the plates were put away (goodbye, crispy wine fish-steak and surprisingly flavorful magpie meat), Bayce led us to her room, where she brought out tools for what was quickly becoming an all-out expedition. ¡°This,¡± she said, opening a barn-red toolbox complete with handle, ¡°is Ms. Lily Gnaeomi¡¯s old Kaug toolkit. On this side is the equipment for boring and suction. On the other are some hiking implements¡ªstakes, rope, a repurposed scythe, and some really old trail mix. Throw that out,¡± she said, casting the nasty food aside into a corner of her room, to be buried and rediscovered many years from now. ¡°You won¡¯t necessarily need the hiking stuff, but they will make decent improvised weapons. Not that you¡¯ll need them,¡± she said with a nod to Reed, ¡°but the cat, maybe. No offense.¡± ¡°Meow,¡± I said meekly, even though I was certain I could kick Bayce into next week. ¡°Speaking of weapons,¡± said Reed, hands behind her back, ¡°I haven¡¯t made new arrows yet, and my favorite travel Spells need recharging¡­ Can I borrow some of yours, please?¡± ¡°Ha! As usual, I laugh in your face for being overly polite.¡± ¡°It will never stop,¡± Reed said, smiling sweetly. ¡°In any case, yes, I have plenty of stuff you can use, as long as you make your own next go-around. And just in case you don¡¯t know,¡± she told me, ¡°Spells are one-time use. Equipment lasts, cantrips last, Spells don¡¯t.¡± ¡°My favorite Spells are buffs,¡± Reed threw in, ¡°but I always bring a few Healing Spells and long-range attacks.¡± ¡°You never know when you might need an Attraction Spell,¡± Bayce said. She sifted through the mountains of things and brought out a delicate wooden box engraved with a pattern like shifting, wind-curled waters. Inside were several tiny compartments. Each one held several twine-wrapped bundles of commonplace, disposable objects: pebbles, wood chips, pencil tips, coal flakes, clips of yarn and string, fruit stems, dried leaves, beads, and many more along the same lines. It only took a millisecond for me to realize that the palm-sized fireplace fuel I¡¯d seen last night was of a piece with these. On the underside of the lid were microscopic words, each paragraph matching up with a different compartment. The way Reed looked up and down from these words to the objects confirmed that these, of course, were notes on the objects and the magic they held. ¡°Humans cast magic one Spell at a time,¡± Bayce told me as Reed quietly took her pick. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of any kind of spirit, soulbound included, casting a human-made Spell. Then again, you folks tend to come with your own. I¡¯d have to guess that spirits never find themselves in the need to try, and Spells do need to be carried¡­ Would you want to try?¡± I had Skills, but sure, why not? Why wouldn¡¯t I want to expand my arsenal? I meowed. ¡°Why don¡¯t you take what Reed¡¯s taking? That could be kind of heartwarming.¡± Sure! I was more excited to get on the road than to hear a patient explanation of every single type of magic in that box. Reed handed me five skin-smearing chips of coal¡ªFire Spells in the making. Then she gave me tiny braids of beadwork, along with stems that smelled like cinnamon and cloves. These all went into my Inventory, thankfully grouped by category and not sprawled across twenty different spaces.
Inventory: 5/5
Chora¡¯s Crystal Ring Debug Blade Fire Spell x5 A bundle of wood, charcoal, and a hint of kindarin pepper. Casts a fireball, either in place or as a projectile, depending on intent. Minor Heal x5 A braid of beads colored white, yellow, red, blue, and green to represent the five humors of the body as depicted in some branches of Vencian folk medical belief. Heals a small amount of HP. Attack Up x5 A bundle of cinnamon sticks, chicory, cloves, and white pepper. Boosts Attack for a limited time.
Were the first two items even worth keeping? One was for a total emergency and the other was an object I didn¡¯t even know how to use safely. But I just had a good feeling about hanging onto both. I thought of it this way: if I left them at home at a time when I absolutely did need them, I would kick myself forever and/or in the afterlife. Plus, I could eat stuff I encountered on the road. If this box was all the magic the cabin could spare, then we really were short on resources. Reed and I set the Fire Spells and Attack Ups to single digits and exhausted the supply of Minor Heals. At that, Bayce quirked her mouth to the side. ¡°You know who¡¯s makin¡¯ these, right?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll help.¡± Bayce whistled. ¡°And you remember what you¡¯re in for?¡± Reed held up one placating hand. ¡°As long as I get the chance to stick my head out and breathe once an hour¡­trust me, I¡¯m fine being your beleaguered assistant!¡± Stick her head out of where? ¡°Meow?¡± I asked, though I knew I was little more than a bystander in this conversation. ¡°Oh, ¡®beleaguered¡¯ means ¡®put-upon.¡¯¡± I shook my head. ¡°Meoww?¡± I said a little more insistently. ¡°Nah, bringing a spirit in would probably jack up the process. No offense. It¡¯s just something about mortal brain structures.¡± Yeah, just a bystander. Well, knock on wood, this trip wouldn¡¯t be life-ending and we could return a little something to the box. That way, Reed and Bayce wouldn¡¯t have to subject themselves to hours of hard labor in this mysterious Spellcrafting Sauna while Chora looked from afar, with pity. In the meantime: yay! As long as Reed had enough Inventory space to carry the trash, we were ready to go! 66. Cogs are Turning, Returning ¡°Be careful about taking this trash,¡± Reed said as we observed the monumental bags in the cans. ¡°It¡¯ll make your Inventory smell.¡± Uh¡­what? Really? Would it? I never noticed any of my items smelling particularly odd or anything¡­but then again, they pretty much all came from the ground, so universally they smelled like the same dirt. Or fish offal. Still¡ªsame difference, right? I¡¯m feral, I tune out garbage smells. If I had space for the garbage, I would take it. But I wasn¡¯t willing to sacrifice Chora¡¯s emergency teleportation thing, nor the emergency golden sword that made my head spin. Man, I was dying for an Inventory upgrade. So I simply backed away from the garbage, and left it to Reed. She put a hand to her chin, studying it all¡­clearly balancing the pros and cons of making an Inventory smelly. Wait a second, why would anyone be able to smell a pocket dimension anyway?? ¡°Well, I guess it¡¯s okay,¡± she reflected. ¡°The Spells have nice scents, and I have several of them. And I could add in some pine needles. That¡¯s practically air freshener.¡± ¡­Her train of thought was getting more and more concerning. She turned to me. ¡°I was thinking of dragging the trash myself to this big ravine at the Kaugs,¡± she said, ¡°and throwing it down there.¡± I stared at her. You¡¯re just throwing it into some hole? A mini-movie of that played in my head. Y¡¯know, I had expected Vencians to be hyperconscious eco-warriors who would never litter, not even leaving a single plastic wrapper, but¡­somehow this felt like a fall from grace. I hung my head. ¡°If we could use this trash, we would,¡± she said, ¡°trust me. On the brighter side, maybe we can unload it faster and in a more useful manner if we come across some racc¡ª¡± ¡°Maow!¡± ¡°Oh!¡± She slapped a hand over her mouth. ¡°That¡¯s right, you don¡¯t get along with raccoons. Are they your natural enemies?¡± ¡°Maow¡­¡± Anyway, she grabbed each trash bag and flung it backward over her shoulder. Right as they approached her back, they suddenly, jarringly disappeared. Smokeless Inventories: no mess, no fuss. Onward! We were headed southwest this time. I had officially distanced myself enough from my first attempt to go that way that now I was nothing but excited about the place. Plus, I was on my second trip with Reed! And as a matter of fact¡­
Treasure Location: ??? (S.A5)
Right, I¡¯d forgotten about that Treasure lying directly in our path, right at the end of our journey. And it was probably some artifact of ultimate destiny or something. Go figure! ¡°Have you been to the Kaugs before?¡± she asked as I strolled beside her. ¡°Mah.¡± ¡°I think you¡¯ll like them. The Kaugs are the biggest mountains I¡¯ve ever seen.¡± An image flashed upon my mind of the tall, wizard-hat peaks surrounded by gloomy clouds. Yes, I¡¯d like them. I knew I¡¯d like them. Not to live in, though. ¡°They¡¯re not just tall,¡± said Reed. ¡°They zigzag. And from afar, they look so neat, like they were drawn into being.¡± She was demonstrating with her finger, making slow, massive peaks. She hadn¡¯t said ¡°tall,¡± she¡¯d said ¡°big¡±¡­so now I was wondering if they were massively wide, too. A vast landscape of pencil-jag points. ¡°And the forestry even looks gray from afar many of the plants that grow there are as dull and gray as the rock. Until just a couple of centuries ago, those mountains were still covered in eons of smoke and ash¡­¡± This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Her voice trembled on that last note. ¡°Meow?¡± ¡°You mean why?¡± I nodded. ¡°There were dragons here, a lot of them. And they died long ago, but they had lived for so long breathing their fire breath that the ash and the mountains became one and the same. Some of it actually seeped into the rock¡ªthere was a famous study about it.¡± She grinned. ¡°The place kind of scared me, to be honest, for the longest. As a kid, I thought the Kaugs must all be haunted, since they were steeped in the ashes of the dead. But there¡¯s a remarkable lack of ghost stories there. Now I figure that the souls of dead dragons must have better things to do than hang around a backwater like Vencia. And besides,¡± she said, ¡°all of nature is covered in corpses!¡± ¡°Meow! (¡­?!)¡± ¡°But the biggest change is¡±¡ªshe flung her arm back and pulled out her favorite sword¡ª¡°I¡¯m stronger and wiser now. The last time I checked, Attack was my highest Stat, followed by Defense and Wisdom.¡± They did have Stats?! ¡°Meow?¡± Reed chuckled. Keeping the sword in her hand, lackadaisically swinging it as we walked, she said, ¡°I guess that sounded like nonsense to you, huh? Maybe spirits don¡¯t quantify Stats the way mathematical, engineer humans do!¡± No, they totally did. ¡°Meow,¡± I said with a head-shake. She blinked. ¡°Is it the same?¡± I half-nodded. Sadly, Reed took this as a cue that the conversation was over. Darn! I didn¡¯t know how to ask what I wanted to ask¡ªwhat kind of Stat information she had, how she got it, and whether she could Level it Up the way I could! We were going southwest, with the emphasis on the ¡°south.¡± That meant we were coming up on Taipha¡¯s Tree, which I fully expected to be vandalized to death by raccoons. Suddenly, Reed stopped and quietly yelped (yes, quiet yelping was possible). ¡°I-I¡¯ve never seen a tree like that!¡± she said, voice and body shaking. Through patchy leaves, I was seeing the same thing she was. My old home was in worse and more unbelievable shape than any nightmare. It looked so bedraggled by the weight of so many lounging raccoon families that it had practically transformed from a regular old maple to a weeping willow. Raccoons hung and swung like cackling cocoons off every spare branch space, and then, when they were all gone, off other raccoons¡¯ tails. The trunk was not only scratched, but pounded down in places¡ªthe constant traffic of raccoon feet had paved raccoon roads. The air was loud with their shouts. The leaves were shaking with their movement¡ªa constant rocking like a steady wind. They were hard partiers. Reed sighed with relief. ¡°At least they have somewhere to go,¡± she said. Reed! Come on! Five seconds ago you were paralyzed with fright! Now you¡¯re acting like your babies have really gone places in the world, when nothing could be further from the truth! A dark impulse boiled in my chest. I wanted revenge on these animals so badly, even if this tree no longer gave me any fuzzy or protective feelings, even if I knew I stood no chance against a posse this large. Regardless, in the hypothetical situation where I found some random strange animals and they were acting like this, I would still feel enraged. In these moments, I live to break up fratty parties. But that wasn¡¯t an option. ¡°Friend,¡± Reed said, ¡°I think we should give them the trash.¡± A trash gift? A trash peace offering? An accidental invitation for the raccoons to officially stampede and kill us both? Or, simply put, a convenient way to get rid of the cabin junk until we found something, anything better? I couldn¡¯t say, but it wasn¡¯t my place to say. But in my heart of hearts, I did have one request: that Reed give them the trash when I was far away, if not safely indoors. She would give them the trash alone. I wasn¡¯t gonna set one foot closer, for fear of extremely swift retribution. She summoned her trash bags. Then she pushed them next to each other, teetering though they were. She squatted in front of them and extended her arms. Eegh, no¡­ I could already foresee what she was gonna do and it was a disaster in the making. (At least she wasn¡¯t going to stack them¡­) Stretching her arms as wide as they could go, she crammed both bags into her loving embrace. Then, with a long, low groan of pure might, she rose inch by inch, second by second, until finally she¡¯d come back into a standing position. The trash was just any weight at the gym¡ªor, to use a less Chora-like metaphor, it was just any¡­any.....lumberjack log in the woods? The main difference was that the bags covered her face and entire range of vision. I worried as she marched past the wall of leaves shielding us from them and vice-versa, and headed into the danger zone. Without moving¡ªyet, at least¡ªI kept a close eye on her. If things went bad, my Air Cutter could do something. Or, better yet, a fresh Fire Spell¡­ Reed plopped the trash on the ground. Then she came sprinting out, screaming, ¡°Run!¡± As the raccoons sprang and swung off the tree and pelted the trash with their hungry bodies, becoming an army of snarling buzz-saws spitting hot magic, I was more than happy to join her. I was also happy to note that I was a lot faster now than the first time I¡¯d run with her! As we went run-jumping over tiny hills and valleys, I quickly pulled ahead¡ª And almost missed the moment when she stopped completely, exhausted and starving for breath. I stopped, skidding in leaves. Behind me, a ways off, Reed was leaning forward with her arms flopped in front. A trickle of a brook sparkled below her. I scampered back. Suddenly it hadn¡¯t felt fair of me to just keep going like that, trapped in my own speed paradise. Or, okay, maybe it was fair, according to the rules of the game in my head, but it wasn¡¯t really nice. Besides, her Attack Stat had to be higher than mine, and I didn¡¯t even give her any congratulations for showing it off! Maybe an Attack competition was in our future? An impulse bloomed in my brain. I could try to comfort her, the way she might try to comfort me. Instead of just stopping for her, I could reach forward and hug her¡­Morph for a moment and make it happen. But it seemed too awkward. Even now, I was shrinking from the thought. So I did what came more naturally, looped around her shin, and rubbed her leg. Technically this meant I was marking territory, but hardly anyone on Vencia knew what a cat was, so she wouldn¡¯t pick up on that part. All she did, still flopped forward, was move a hand toward me, tentatively. I rubbed my face against it. Then her hand withdrew. But the important part was done. She had provisional permission to give scritches. 67. Strangers, Stragglers
Current Location: ??? (S.C4)
Normally I¡¯m pretty nimble¡ªyou know this¡ªbut on my trip to the Kaugs with Reed, I abruptly slipped on a dash of mud some animal had smeared along a rock and flopped over. ¡°Cat!¡± Reed cried. She saw it an instant before I did: the monster my fall had unleashed. It was a snarling orange weasel! Before I could get to my feet, the critter was high in the air, in the middle of a body slam! Or body strangle, since its body was sort of rope-noodly-shaped. Reed defended me. ¡°Yeek!¡± she eeked as she whipped her leg out. Her foot, heavy boot and all, plunged into the weasel¡¯s midsection and shunted them into the trees¡ªand far far away, judging by the lack of a thud. I did hear a bodily crunch on impact, though. Reed¡¯s kicking foot scuffed back on the grass. Despite having just decimated a tough-looking weasel, and despite being way bigger than the weasel too, she looked frightened. Exhaling from her core, she said, ¡°I don¡¯t like dealing with beasts or bad spirits when I don¡¯t have my hands on a weapon.¡± ¡°Meow,¡± I said, pointing a paw at the boot she¡¯d just weaponized. ¡°That doesn¡¯t count! It¡¯s so close to my foot. I could¡¯ve lost my foot, if it¡¯d gone wrong!¡± ¡°Maow¡­¡± I was shaking my head. ¡°I know it¡¯s unlikely, but stranger things have happened¡­¡± She took her sword in hand. ¡°Do you mind if I keep a hold on this as we walk?¡± Why would I? Reed should do what Reed wants on our Reedspeditions, she¡¯s earned it. Besides, she¡¯d just saved me from a battle that could¡¯ve been rough. Unlike with Chora¡¯s savior mode, I desperately wanted to thank Reed for it, but I didn¡¯t really know how, and I didn¡¯t want to stop everything for another limb-nuzzling session. At that point she¡¯d just be scritching every half-hour, and then it just loses its power, doesn¡¯t it. ¡­Or maybe it just makes us feel even more at ease, being out here together on a gloriously sunny day. I thought about this as we walked on. The landscape was getting more marshy. No wonder some very unwelcome mud had tripped me up back there. Another trickle of a stream flowed to our right and wended its way down an easy slope, and we followed it, peeking in to find little white fish darting through. The shade grew thicker.
Treasure Detected!
Check your Map for the location.
Woah! That hadn¡¯t happened in a long time. ¡°Huh?¡± Reed stopped walking as soon as I did. Phew¡ªthat erased the temptation to keep walking while I pulled up my Map, then bump into a tree hidden by that Map. I sat, closed my eyes, and calmly opened it: Ah! It was a touch farther east, just past the border between this Map square and another. In hindsight, it seemed a bit weird that in my early days on Vencia, I never ran that way. That space shared a corner with the Taipha¡¯s Tree and Reed¡¯s Cabin space C3, after all. As I digested the info, Reed crouched beside me. ¡°Is anything wrong?¡± she whispered. I shook my head. ¡°Did you see something good? Oh¡ªis it like the time you led me to the Beacon?¡± I nodded! She smiled wonderfully! ¡­and then faded into a look of worry. ¡°Will we have to get ready to fight something big?¡± Probably not, but on the other hand, you never know. Since I couldn¡¯t easily shrug, I just blinked kinda hard. ¡°Well, if that¡¯s what it takes,¡± she said, her face changing to firm resolution, ¡°I can do it¡ªwe can do it.¡± That¡¯s right! Reed¡¯s gaze wobbled. Distracted, she looked down into the winding creek. ¡°Huh¡­¡± She sounded disappointed. ¡°This stream used to be wider. Or is it that I got older?¡± ¡°Mah?¡± ¡°You want to¡­hear more?¡± Sure, and I waited patiently for it. She sighed out a long breath. ¡°For part of my childhood and young adulthood, I lived here, in the cabin. And for a special occasion or a shopping day, my family and I would go to Outlast.¡± She threw a pointing thumb over her shoulder. ¡°It really was¡ªis¡ªa retreat. And one of the special things my brothers and I would do when we were all together is go fishing.¡± And she started to tell me things I hadn¡¯t imagined she would know about the stream¡ªand with full conviction. That the fish in Mirror Pong were not only different, but larger, but somehow the fish in the stream swam quicker. That it nearly dried up in autumn until when the big chill hit in winter, it was nothing but dregs, the tiny divots of ice barely visible under snow. As we walked toward the Treasure, she told me about how metefry would rocket into the air during their mating season. They¡¯d jump right into nets, but catching them that way didn¡¯t feel right. These were ordinary-extraordinary natural things, everyday things that I could wrap my head around, that made me feel at ease, made me almost feel like the whole galaxy was as simple as one cabin in the woods. Our path took us away from the stream, but I still pictured it as Reed described a few more fishing stories. An older brother, Harp, making the biggest and most daring catches; a younger brother, Lute, getting frustrated with it all, throwing his rod against a rock and crying out when it broke; Reed sitting and humming in the middle. ¡°I miss that,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t dislike where I am now, but I am allowed to miss it, right?¡± I looked up at her, unable to communicate much of anything¡­besides my presence, and maybe the idea that I was here if she wanted someone to lean on. Yeah. Maybe that was all she wanted at the moment. Shhf! My ear flicked as if a fly had bitten it. What was that sound just now? Reed didn¡¯t react to it¡ªhad she even heard it? Ah, no, she did hear it. Reacting properly took her a bit as she shifted hair behind her ears and rubbed at her eyes one last time. ¡°That sounded like a camera shutter,¡± she said. Oh yeah! Vencian, old-timey-Earth cameras, I remembered now. I wagged my tail like a dog. It took way too much energy. ¡°You¡¯re not trying to go out and find it, are you?¡± ¡°Myeah!¡± ¡°But there¡¯s people with it!¡± ¡°Meow.¡± ¡°And what if one of them is DeGalle?¡± That wouldn¡¯t stop me at all. In fact, it made me wag my tail more vigorously (playing through the pain)! ¡°Meow!!¡± ¡°Sorry,¡± Reed said. ¡°Strangers just make me nervous. Specifically strangers in the woods.¡± I wanted to tell her, It¡¯s fine! It¡¯s okay! Come with me and get un-nervous! Having revealed myself to random humans at the St@rs clothing shop, I now realized it was okay. Exciting, even. And in a worst-case scenario, surely Reed and I working together could get the jump on a couple of werewolves¡­right? I walked on ahead, veering off the path of the Treasure to find, potentially, treasured new friends. Oh¡ªoop¡ªwait, that wasn¡¯t true, the Treasure was on the way there! As I led the way and Reed hesitantly walked behind (don¡¯t worry, Reed, I thought, you can do like I did with the raccoons and hang back in the trees if you need to), I kept checking my Map, trying to figure it out. And by ¡°I kept checking,¡± I mean I had to repeatedly open and close the Map so I didn¡¯t get blinded. (Apparently you avoid getting blinded by giving yourself a migraine.) Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. In the end, the Treasure and the camera noise were in the same place. Was it smart to assume the camera was the Treasure, or smarter to assume nothing? I chose to assume nothing. We stumbled across three people sitting on a log and bickering. Their clothes were freshly mud-stained in places, and they didn¡¯t look suited to a long stint in the wilderness. In fact, the first thing that came to mind when I saw them was a gaggle of college students I¡¯d once passed by on Earth. I think those ones were arguing over how to direct their student film. I hadn¡¯t helped matters by accidentally knocking down their tripod. Meanwhile, these three were squinting at a square photograph barely big enough to be pinched between two fingers. A clunky wooden box that must¡¯ve been a camera (if not a bundle of travel essentials kinda like Reed¡¯s camping case) sat patiently at their feet. ¡°That¡¯s a hawk.¡± ¡°Look at the eyes!¡± ¡°Those aren¡¯t even eyes, that¡¯s glare!¡± ¡°Finn, you can¡¯t keep calling everything bright and shiny ¡®glare.¡¯ It doesn¡¯t make you look any smarter.¡± ¡°I concede that may be a wing, but then what do you call the¡ª¡± ¡°Maow!¡± All three of them glared up at me. A thrill in my heart told me that this was a look I¡¯d been expecting ever since my reincarnation: deep, unadulterated annoyance. But the look changed fast. One heartbeat later, they were racing to the camera. The one who grabbed it first squeezed a flashbulb and successfully blinded me, even as the other two flailed their arms all over him like a losing-but-desperate basketball team. Reed emerged from the trees mumbling, ¡°Oh, dear¡­¡± Five more pictures were taken in quick succession, from slightly different angles. Now the argument was about whether they had enough film and why the photographer couldn¡¯t get out of the trees and into some better lighting for crying out loud. I took it all in stride, even posing a little for them. My Earth self would hate this, but my Vencian self found it a cute novelty. I was getting attention! My old self didn¡¯t understand attention, didn¡¯t have all the human context for it. Now that Sierra had told me what TV was and stuff, though¡­ ¡°Um, may I interrupt?¡± said Reed. It was unsuccessful. I gave her a look¡ªshe sent it back, both concerned and saddened. Oh no. Or rather: oh no? This had all happened so fast that I wasn¡¯t sure whether or not I¡¯d just thrown myself into the deep end of something actually really bad. Reed swallowed in breath and squeezed her eyes shut as if she was cannonballing underwater. Raising one hand, she set off a Fire Spell, a hurtling fireball that exploded mid-air like dynamite. It was more sound than fury, and it dissipated quickly. But it definitely got everyone¡¯s attention. Now Reed was furious. Lucky for me, all her fury was pointed at the three camerapeople. ¡°If you publish those images of a spirit going in peace,¡± she said, ¡°I, Reed Gnaeomi, along with my very famous mother Lily Gnaeomi, will strike you down with a lawsuit the likes of which you have never seen!¡± That shut them up. Well, two of them. But the third, the man with the camera who had the flashbulb in mid-squeeze, answered with a casual swagger, ¡°Really. Against DeGalle¡¯s media empire?¡± Reed gulped. ¡°W-well, we have several university systems on our side.¡± ¡°People!¡± cried the woman in the no-longer-white bell-bottom pants that, thanks to the rough journey, were literally eroding at the knees. ¡°I can¡¯t handle this right now. Why don¡¯t we call a truce, and just give you the photos?¡± Reed beamed. Inwardly, I frowned. She was so innocent¡­but when she smiled that way, and no one else did, I felt like she was about to be ripped to shreds¡­ ¡°And whatever university your big mom¡¯s teaching at, they can have them! Provided DeGalle gets the credit.¡± ¡°Or I get the credit,¡± the photographer dude offered. ¡°I¡¯m sure they don¡¯t want to be associated with you,¡± said Reed. ¡°What with the conspiracy theories and trampling on local property and such. No offense.¡± ¡°Oh, we¡¯re extremely offended.¡± The bell-bottom woman took the photos from the dude¡¯s hand, stomped over to Reed, and put them in her hand. ¡°There,¡± she said. ¡°And we won¡¯t even acknowledge the cryptid you¡¯ve got with you. Will that make you happy?¡± ¡°It would! Thank you!¡± Reed said, oozing sincerity. ¡°Meow!¡± I said in agreement, because Reed hadn¡¯t gotten ripped to shreds after all! If she was happy enough with it, so was I! Now seemed like a decent time to cross-check the Treasure against my Map.
Current Location: Camera Crossing (S.D4)
We were still right on top of it. Could I zoom any closer in? Okay, that didn¡¯t help at all. There was the Map, there was my icon, and the Treasure. It was ever so slightly, um¡­east of me? Like the people were? But it could still be anything! I wished I could see some other features on this thing. Anything, or anyone, else! Map features huh?
Error: Invalid request.
Help Desk Map?
The Map is a feature of the System allowing the user to¡ª
Gah! Ugh, I should¡¯ve remembered that would just flood me with rookie-level information before the important stuff. I didn¡¯t really have the patience to get my vision blocked for any longer right now. ¡°And could we interest you,¡± the second dude said, ¡°in some DeGalle Swag?¡± NO! I CAN¡¯T MISS THE WEIRD BRIBERY! I shooed the box away. This didn¡¯t make it go any faster, but it did give the satisfaction of scratching an itch. Before me, the three DeGallians were crowding around a single backpack, digging in deep until they pulled out, unanimously, a little dangly sack. On the outside was a picture of a floating head with a tall ponytail and a tough grimace. I assumed that was DeGalle dmAge. She sure did look like she was going to insult my dinner and flip it off the table. Inside the SwagBag that Reed hesitantly took, she found a T-shirt, a beanie, and a hacky sack, all branded with the DeGalle name and floating head. She also found a stress ball in the shape of a distressed cartoon horse. It seemed to have DeGalle¡¯s phone number on its back. She said softly, ¡°These¡­nobody I know would want these.¡± Hold on. She hadn¡¯t taken everything out of that bag, and the last thing was¡­ I crept closer, studying the Map as I went. Yes! Now I could confirm I was inching closer and closer! I was discovering just how far I could push the zoom on this Map¡ªand this, in all its grainy and pixelated glory, was as close as I was getting to pinpoint Treasure-location accuracy. Then I jumped for it. As Reed was in the middle of handing the bag back, I swatted it down like a wildly successful basketball player. The bag and I crashed to the ground together.
Complete!
Quest: Here, Have Another Quest with that Treasure¡ªI¡¯m Having Mercy on You
Reward: +Bonus EXP!
EXP: 62% (1570/2250)
What even was that? One EXP? That truly was the least Experience I¡¯d gained from any single Quest! Thanks, Sierra! Reed chuckled. ¡°I guess someone wants it after all!¡± I was glad she was saving face for us both, because with me currently struggling to find the opening of this bag, I seemed to be massacring it. ¡°Well,¡± the camera guy said above and behind me, ¡°I¡¯m just glad this has all been resolved. Now, could you do us a really big solid?¡± ¡°Uhh, I don¡¯t really¡­¡±
Treasure Acquired!
I came out of the bag with my jaws holding something far too big for them. It was a tiny camera! At first, this thrilled me. But then I realized that Bayce had her very own. Wait, back up¡­it was possible that the real Treasure was, instead, the complimentary postcard of DeGalle standing in front of what appeared to be the world¡¯s largest peanut. I dropped the bag and all its inhabitants, turning my attention back to the humans. ¡°Now,¡± said one of DeGalle¡¯s crew members, ¡°Ms. Gnaeomi, we took this strange photo about a minute before you happened upon us, and none of us can agree with what we¡¯ve seen.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t even know if I see anything in this photo,¡± she said, looking at the little square being held in front of her. ¡°Couldn¡¯t it just be a shadow?¡± ¡°But look at that part!¡± A finger jabbed at the image. ¡°It¡¯s a beak!¡± ¡°Or a snout.¡± ¡°But then wouldn¡¯t that be a leg?¡± Reed conceded. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re right.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t see it.¡± I returned to Reed¡¯s side once it seemed like the three were back in their own argument-world again. Reed bent down to me and whispered, ¡°Anything you like in there?¡± I shrugged. Then I went back and pulled out the camera, dragging it out with my paws, presenting it to her. Her eyes lit up. ¡°I didn¡¯t even realize this was in there! Wow, that¡¯s kind of high-grade for a, um, swag bag.¡± She stood up again, held the camera to her eyes, and, as she walked away, snapped a few pictures of the trees around us. Just as we were about to make a clean, peaceful getaway¡­ ¡°Wait,¡± Reed said, and loudly. She turned back around to the trio, power-walked up to them. They stopped their discussion. ¡°Excuse me. May I ask what you¡¯re investigating around here? And¡­why there are only three of you?¡± ¡°We got left behind,¡± said the third one, the one I haven¡¯t even described yet and probably never will. Never mind. He had glasses. ¡°Temporarily, so that we could figure out what this one weird silhouette was.¡± ¡°The rest is top-secret, of course,¡± said the white-shredded-pants lady. ¡°Until she herself makes the report. But all of us are going down to the Kaugs.¡± Reed wilted. ¡°What a coincidence. We happen to be headed that way too. So if you three would like any help getting back, or just companionship on the road, I would be happy to extend an invitation along those lines.¡± ¡°No, we¡¯re good,¡± they said almost in unison. Reed bowed slightly. ¡°Alright, then. Take care, and may you discover what the thing in that picture is!¡± With a glance at me and a weird clicky side-of-the-mouth noise, she beckoned me and I came. We power-walked together out of that scene, and the people behind us sank back into their argument. Once we were several severals of steps away from them, Reed slowed down and untensed. It was like seeing a marionette drop to the floor: her shoulders flopped forward like they had when she was physically exhausted, and so did her head¡ªI was afraid her knees would follow. ¡°Meow!¡± I said, meaning ¡°good escape¡± or, for all she knew, ¡°meow!¡± ¡°At least we got something good out of it,¡± she said, pulling the camera out again and shaking it. Yeah! Unless it broke after ten pictures. 68. At Stag Reed and I covered a bit more ground before taking a rest at a fresh crop of old fallen logs. Mushrooms were growing in thick, polypy blankets across strips of the bark. I was going to poke at them, but then I remembered that mushrooms could be poisonous sometimes. Even Reed only risked poking them with the tippy-tip of a knife, releasing a puff of dust¡­or spores. Sitting side by side on one log, on a clear space as far from these mushrooms as possible, we settled in for lunch. Reed had two sandwiches, offered me one. I shook my head, since I wasn¡¯t hungry yet¡­though neither was I full. ¡°I¡¯m sorry if this outing isn¡¯t too amazing so far, but¡­¡± Reed stopped herself with a sigh. ¡°I¡¯m not supposed to downplay things like that, am I?¡± she said, half to herself. She relaxed, and I relaxed. Birds were singing, and the clouds had parted above our spot like a natural skylight, letting warming sun rays in. We heard the low creak of a bullfrog in a nearby bubbling stream. Reed was working up the¡­courage, I think¡­to hang out with me with no hesitation and no preoccupations. Why she had to be so nervous about stuff, I still didn¡¯t know. Did someone kick her in her youth? Nah¡­ Well, I was just glad to se her not looking flopped-out like she had with the raccoons and the DeGalle people. She was looking more natural. I wished she hadn¡¯t felt the need to check in with me like this¡ªI felt content, I felt warm. ¡°Meow!¡± I said. She smiled and began to eat her magpie sandwich. Then, to my surprise, she set out a few tiny, cold cutlets on a napkin and slid it to me. ¡­Alright, fine, I¡¯d take her charity. In between bites, taking her time, she went on to a new topic. ¡°I have plenty of training reading dogs¡¯ emotions, and I¡¯ve spent a bit of time with other animals here and there, now and then¡­but I¡¯ve never learned to read a cat. For obvious reasons. It¡¯s hard to feel sure that you¡¯re doing okay. But I¡¯m getting it more and more. For example¡­¡± She pointed at me. I froze, feeling like a deer in the headlights. ¡°When your tail is waving gently like smoke from a candle, that means you¡¯re relaxed!¡± ¡°Meow!¡± I said emphatically. Correct! ¡°And sometimes when you hiss, I see your tail fall close to the ground and hover there, moving slowly, like you¡¯re ready to start beating the ground¡­¡± She had a glint in her eye. ¡°Or like your tail is a shark, cutting through the water!¡± ¡°Meow?!¡± ¡°Yes, really!¡± I didn¡¯t feel amazing about my elegant tail being compared to a sausage-shaped fish, but Reed seemed excited about it, so it was fine. ¡°Oh,¡± said Reed, ¡°your tail¡¯s sinking again. I¡¯m sorry, I must¡¯ve said something wrong. I¡¯ll be more careful about mentioning sharks.¡± Woah¡­Reed was the first human I¡¯d known to put effort into reading my body language, and this made me both happy and terrified. The same rush of stage fright that had made me run away came back in a flash, mingled with relief that someone was taking such big strides to try and understand me. Near the end of our meal, Reed took a long swig of her canteen and offered some to me. I shook my head¡ªI¡¯d been drinking out of streams all this time, and I wasn¡¯t used to clean, bland sink water. Then Reed took out the camera and started looking it over more closely, and¡ª Hold on, what¡¯s this? Not far from our clearing was a hill of mossy rocks: gray things that¡¯d tumbled against each other hundreds of years ago and stuck like that, in the middle of a tiny avalanche. Water dribbled from a few places at the top, then disappeared into another meager stream. I could imagine it being a fierce waterfall in a bygone era. That wasn¡¯t the thing that got my attention. There was a stag standing on the rocks, his body both fragile and strong, his huge, hand-like antlers radiant. Reed¡¯s eyes were radiant to match. She seemed entranced by the animal, on the verge of drooling. ¡°Wow!¡± she cried. ¡°I mean¡ªwow,¡± she said in a mild whisper. ¡°I love deer. I love deer. There aren¡¯t too many around here. Especially not the swamp.¡± I studied the stag just as hard as she did. He was looking, pausing, turning his head. Surveying and maybe looking for food. Nothing special, except to us. Although¡­to him, nothing was special about this scene except for us. Suddenly Reed had set the camera down and replaced it with a huge clipboard, a stick of graphite, and a sheet of sketch paper. ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t think I can pass this up,¡± she murmured. ¡°An opportunity like this only comes once every¡ª¡± Ch-chik! This camera worked like an Earth Polaroid. My first photo came sliding out, drifting onto the grass. I had used my nekomata form just for this, and the surprise on her face made it worth it. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Then I handed her the camera¡ªa challenge, in my eyes. Sure, you can draw a better picture than me¡­but I bet you can¡¯t take one. She locked eyes with me, confused at first, but gradually getting it. ¡°You don¡¯t get it,¡± she whispered, ¡°they¡¯re already moving away!¡± That he was! (Uh, ¡°they were¡±? Sorry¡­I¡¯m just a semi-human interloper and I have no feel for this stuff. But neither did the stag. Probably?) The creature had definitely shifted and was starting to munch on some plants. ¡°Wait,¡± Reed said, correcting herself. ¡°That means I couldn¡¯t get a detailed sketch in anyway.¡± I stared at her more sternly, waiting for her to connect these new dots. But if you draw from a photo¡­ The clipboard and graphite went away. Alright! A new challenge begins!! With determination, Reed snagged the camera, leaped to her feet, set one boot on the log, and stared into the camera¡¯s view-thing. She began to shift herself, left and right, hunting for the shot. But¡­would she dare get closer? For now, no. She snapped one off and handed it back to me. You didn¡¯t seem to mind too much the first time I did this, so¡ª I clamped my human fangs down on the camera. These quickly became cat fangs as I Morphed back, set to all fours, and galloped closer. She gasped with shock as she saw me run, but I didn¡¯t slow down and I wouldn¡¯t! I drew closer to the pile of rocks, and to the beautiful stag at the top. But just as the animal turned toward my position, I strafed, flinging myself between some bushes. (Not into them, because that¡¯s noisy.) I checked my Stats:
HP 100% (398/398)
SP 29% (96/333)
ATK 64
INT 42
DEF 46
WIS 33
SPD 62 (+10%)
The Stealth Trait is active.
Now that I had a little distance from the excitement of first getting my Stealth Trait, I fully realized how weird and counterintuitive it was. In execution, it was¡­not exactly as cool as it¡¯d sounded. The very times I most needed Speed were typically when I was crossing long distances and everyone was watching me. Sure, it would, for instance, help me in quick dextrous bursts as I cartwheeled through museums to steal valuable art, but I was never cartwheeling through museums to steal valuable art! It wasn¡¯t much better than a notification telling me, Hey, you¡¯re unseen except by the smallest and least important microorganisms. But at least it was good for something! And it looked cool on my Traits-resume! Anyway, I slowly stuck my head out again, took the camera between my paws, and waited a little bit. Only long enough so that the sun would hit the stag¡¯s outstretched neck just right. Then, carefully with my chin, I tapped the button. Chik. In a spirit of fair play, I walked back to the picnic spot. Reed had already walked half the distance, though. We met in the middle, I handed off the camera, and she walked methodically the other way. She was walking a large semicircle around the stag. I stayed still and watched her go. When she snapped the picture, it must have been head-on. But right before she snapped it, she gasped¡ªI couldn¡¯t hear it, but I saw it on her face. The stag had drastically moved. He had shifted a leg. Reed soon relaxed, then took the shot. We couldn¡¯t manage another round. A hoglike grunt from the north got the stag¡¯s attention, and he turned tail and ran back the way he came. His back hooves flashed in the light. Then we returned to the log and reviewed our photos. She had two, I had two, both captured in sepia so light I feared it was already fading. ¡°Was this just for fun,¡± she said, ¡°or were we competing?¡± Competing! COMPETING! ¡°One paw for fun, two for com¡­¡± Two paws went high in the air, and she clammed up. Her mouth opened a moment before she laughed. ¡°Alright, then!¡± she said. ¡°Good thing I tried my hardest! It looked like you did too!¡± We studied the photos for a good few minutes. Or, actually, I looked at them, got bored, and then looked up at Reed studying them. After all, I was deferring to Reed for judging here. I wasn¡¯t an artist by any stretch. How would I be able to tell who won this?! ¡­Oh, right, my first photo was blurred and the second was mostly the stag¡¯s rump. Ultimately, Reed had to decide between a gorgeous shot of a distant deer atop the rocks¡­and a gorgeous shot of a close-up deer staring right at the camera eye. ¡°Sorry to say, I believe that I won,¡± she said. I nodded slowly. ¡°Meow¡­!¡± I said, but in the moment of my loss, I just couldn¡¯t muster much enthusiasm. ¡°But you certainly won the prize for ambition!¡± ¡°Meow¡­¡± ¡°Not to mention Speed!¡± I¡­alright, I had to admit that.
Victory!
What the¡ª I actually got Experience just from Reed¡¯s excessive flattery?!
EXP: 74% (1891/2550)
Oh, yeesh, these were real consolation prizes. But I didn¡¯t mind! Selfish as it was, this minor non-victory actually did lighten my mood. 69. Tipping the Scales Minutes after our photo competition, as human-Reed and cat-me walked away from that scenic spot under the afternoon sun, she kept that winning photograph in front of her, looking with wonder. You¡¯re gonna crash, Reed, I thought, several times. You¡¯re gonna trip and fall over. See that rock? Of course you don¡¯t¡­ But she never did fall, always slowing down and tottering around the obstacles. I¡¯d call it impressive, but it was more likely that my habit of crashing and burning at hyper-speed whenever my System interrupted was just uniquely unimpressive. Eventually she put it away, bashfully, almost saying ¡°sorry¡± but then cutting off her own apology. We wandered on, continuing south, and the yellowing sun made its slow trek to the west. Looking up through the cover of trees, I wished I could ask if Reed expected this trip to last a day or less. We¡¯d been going about it like an afternoon sojourn, but¡­now I was beginning to wonder.
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 27% (8/30)
And no mountains in sight yet. Instead, we got the emergence of a swamp. The trickly traces of streams we¡¯d been seeing now and then blossomed into bog water sitting in splotches covered in green, filmy algae. The ponds themselves looked like crocodiles lying in wait. And the earth was a little less stable. Mud stuck to Reed¡¯s shoes and, irritatingly, my paws. ¡°Hey,¡± Reed said as we plodded through our second bad stretch of mud, ¡°you look like you could¡­uh¡­ I meant I have some little bags that you could¡­maybe you could wear them on your¡­feet?¡± She was right to say that with so many ellipses. Reed had just offered to put bags on my feet, as a gift. Was I weird for feeling offended by that? Is there any animal alive that likes putting shoes or socks or gloves and mittens, let alone sloppy bags, on their feet?! No thanks. No survivalist would want to give up access to all the sensory info that a paw pad tells the brain. I shook my head. With the changing biome came new animal voices in the groves around us. The voice of a cackling bird, one whose voice I almost mistook for an insect like the chirps (or krigries, the poetry book called them?), sounded particularly loud. I stopped in my tracks to hear it better. My ears pivoted. Off to my right, at the top of a leafy willow, there was a cackling scaly lump. More of them were cawing even further in the distance, impossible to see but easy to hear. Wait¡­scaly? Most snakes and lizards on Earth didn¡¯t bird-cackle. Reed looked off in the same direction. I wished she¡¯d identify what that creature was, but instead she clammed up. That was just as well. It meant she had some survival intuition and assumed that I¡¯d sensed danger. I decided this was a good scenario. I was getting antsy and eager to make my own danger. How far could an Air Cutter reach? I gave myself no time to reach back into my memories and make a calculation¡ªjust act! I launched a blade of air so violently that I reared up almost onto my hind legs. The little sonic boom soared right for the lump. The lump soared away. My Air Cutter obliterated nothing but the edges of a few leaves. On one hand, I¡¯d lost my prey. On the other hand, I knew for sure they were birds, seeing feathers with rattlesnake patterns. Plus, that blast had to have traveled thirty meters! ¡°That bird is called a raging wryneck,¡± Reed murmured. ¡°I don¡¯t think they¡¯re so dangerous. Do you think their cries are annoying? Most people find them annoying.¡± Nah, that didn¡¯t bother me at all. What bothered me, I knew as I took off suddenly, was the fact that my quarry had escaped. ¡°I-I¡¯m coming!¡± Reed cried sweatily, hurrying after me. Now I was racing through a landscape of swamp litter. The brown, green, and gray sometimes blended together, making it hard to tell what was solid, what was liquid, and what was dead stuff under squatting fungi. Case in point: thirty seconds in, I went headfirst into a lumpy brothy substance. ¡°Mah!¡± As the soup burned into my still-open eyes and the sounds of fleeing fishtails reached my ears, I realized that water didn¡¯t scare me anymore. But swamp terrain¡­was starting to. The vomit consistency of most of the puddles didn¡¯t help either. I rose with a gasp, confident that my fur was now completely green, and took a Leap to make sure I wouldn¡¯t slip in again. Fortunately, I hit a rock (which unfortunately hurt, but I could scramble onto it). My trail, I can assure you, wasn¡¯t just a random direction. I¡¯d seen the raging wryneck dipping down in their flight and curving, slightly, to one side. I was hearing louder cackles from a few other directions too¡ªsome group of nests or communal territory had to be up ahead. Through this brush! I pushed through into patchy, sunlit dirt and grass, face-to-face with a bird. Up close, those feathers with their odd zigzagging pattern looked almost like armor. I had to assume they used it for a rattlesnake disguise¡ªand maybe also defense. The wryneck cawed in my nostrils, and the sound was joined by various others standing along the tall, ruler-straight birches around me. Each bird was built like a cross between a woodpecker and a bulldog. The beak now aimed at my face was short and tough, and looked unusually worn. But the eyes were most startling: with sharp viper¡¯s pupils, they glowed a radiant orange. Any truly smart predator would know that rattlesnakes didn¡¯t have slit pupils, but hey! Before I could react, I saw the raging wryneck in front of me rearing up with wings spread¡ªnot taking off, but lunging at me. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Act fast! Would I dodge and go from there? After all, I did have some long-range¡ª No! No, I knew what to do! I wasn¡¯t a long-range black cat, I was an ash-gray hunter! I could get a Swipe in!
SP 13% (45/333)
Err, probably not. Actually, I only had enough SP to Guard or Meditate. Going for broke, hoping for a win, I did what I could. Guard!
DEF 69 (+50%)
In its own way, that fired me up. I hurtled forward, my claws wild. We crashed into each other, nearly headbutting. But I couldn¡¯t attack. I found my front limbs locked in a strange position, unable to reach the wryneck. The bird was grappling with me. The bird. With absurd upper body strength and meaty, armlike wings that, as I now realized, had two pterodactyl claws each at their joints. ¡­I guessed now I was a wrestler too? The other birds had become our audience, laughing in a constant scream. I could¡¯ve sworn one of them threw dirt at my back. With a long groan, I struggled to swat at the back of the wryneck¡¯s head, but my limbs just weren¡¯t flexible enough¡ªmy paws pathetically fwopped against the feathers at the back of their neck. Enemy claws dug into my shoulders, crawling up to my neck. My furiosity (that¡¯s a word now) fumed. But I dug my back heels in. And if I could¡¯ve Leaped, I would¡¯ve¡ªbut instead I jumped. Springing off the ground and hoping to flip the wryneck, I put all my weight and energy into my enemy¡¯s upper body. I was stopped. Half a second after the spring, the wryneck¡¯s meat-wings glowed bright citrus-orange. ¡°Hnrrrh!¡± they roared, muscles tensing, leg joints locking into place. My hind legs left the ground, only to flail in midair and fall again with a plop. Now I knew for sure that the audience was straight-up laughing. Too bad they didn¡¯t know that embarrassment fuels me like coal fuels a steam train! (Is what I tell myself at night.) ¡­Oh, darnit. Now I was laughing at me too. I¡¯d forgotten all about my killer apps! Why? Well, maybe because I¡¯d gotten so caught up in hanging out with Reed and taking pictures with Reed, and seeing Reed kick weasels, that the exciting Spellcraft I could now use had just slipped my mind. D¡¯oh. But¡­no harm, no foul.
HP 88% (352/398)
And I didn¡¯t consider that real harm. Launching fire in the wryneck¡¯s face didn¡¯t feel very sporting, so instead I¡¯d use an Attack Up! I activated the Spell. Wait, no I didn¡¯t. I didn¡¯t even know how to do tha¡ª Ah, yes I did. And it seemed to require hands. ¡­I felt like someone should¡¯ve brought this up¡­
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
Is the tutorial still not over yet?
O Goddess, I beseech you in all possible humility, I thought as the wryneck came closer and closer to pushing me over. How can I use this magic and momentarily keep from dying? (Again, that was an exaggeration, but anything was fine as long as it kept her attention.)
Spells can be fired straight from your Inventory. Just call out the name of the Spell, either vocally or in your mind.
Woah! It¡¯s actually considerate of creatures without human vocal cords! Thank you!
I don¡¯t respect kiss-ups.
If it works, it works!! As soon as the pop-up warped away and I was locking eyes again with the wryneck, my mind cried out, Attack Up! It was like a fire stoked in my soul, spreading out to all my limbs. A sweet smell of spices surrounded me, and the dimmest of glows, deep sunset-red, charged me. Yeah! I checked my Stats for good measure.
ATK 96 (+50%)
The boost was solid! It lined up exactly with Guard and Meditate, which was very good and heart-cheering. This time, instead of jumping and giving up my foothold, I went for a headbutt. For the past minute I¡¯d been staring ten-percent into the wryneck¡¯s eyes, ninety-percent into their forehead. If I charged straight into it, I would cause a nasty wound¡­two of them, actually. And depending on this bird¡¯s Level and Defense, it might just wipe me out. That was why I ducked and went for the gut, full-speed. Poomf! ¡°Caw!¡± The bird fell onto its back, splattering into a shallow pool. The tone of the audience changed instantly. The volume went down and the tone became sulky. Imagine a crowd in a stadium: ¡°YEAH! YEAH! YE¡ªaw¡­¡±
EXP: 88% (2347/2550)
EXP: 88% (2347/2550) I hadn¡¯t killed the bird, of course, but apparently this had been an honest-to-goodness wilderness duel, with the raging wryneck acknowledging defeat. ¡°Mreaow!¡± I said, cheering for myself because no one else would. I began strutting around in a small circle and wondering whether the other birds were entertained or not entertained. Part of me expected them all to gang up on me. Instead, they scattered. They flew up in a geyser of feathers, sending the trees into a tizzy. Then they were gone and I was alone with the challenger. Moments later, I heard Reed¡¯s voice calling. ¡°Cat!¡± she cried, giving up on the idea of cover entirely. Had her approach scared off the birds? Probably. I meowed back. My opponent rose from the puddle and snarled. Feeling both cocky and curious, I swatted at the water as hard as I could. It actually shocked me how high the little explosion of water flew, and how far. About fifteen Levels ago, I would¡¯ve needed a Swipe to do this. The intimidating sound of the smack against the surface was a thing of beauty. Though the wryneck flinched, they weren¡¯t down and out, and seemed to still have most of their strength left. They fluttered up and away. Phew. I shook myself out to de-green myself as much as possible before my friend got back. Then, at last, I could tell where her footsteps were by the sounds of boots in undergrowth. I turned and walked for a bit before encountering Reed, whose boots were covered in the same sort of muck as I was, only less hard and with some tricky pine needles clinging to the sides. Also, her right hand was balled in a fist¡ªholding a Spell? ¡°Are you alright?¡± she asked, wiping sweat off her face. I replied with an energetic yes-meow. ¡°That¡¯s a relief. Did you fight the bird off?¡± ¡°Meow.¡± Yes! And I couldn¡¯t have done it without the magic you picked out. ¡°Good! Good. When we camp tonight, let¡¯s hammer out a system for signaling to each other in the woods, just in case we get lost.¡± She added with a laugh, ¡°Because I came very close to that¡­¡± Aw, but I was fully to blame for this! Of course I agreed to it. And as we continued walking southward, I thought about the fact that we would, in fact, be out here together for at least twenty-four hours. And soon the stars would be out. And I¡¯d actually be able to pay them some attention, and hear about signs, and stand some chance of learning what they meant, because she¡¯d help. 70. A Mushroom-Colored Rug ¡°On the way here, I passed something, uh, interesting,¡± Reed said. ¡°Not in a horrible way! Just possibly in a bad way.¡± While she was scrambling around searching for me, she¡¯d found a trail of footprints set deep in the moss. We followed these together, with me sniffing the prints as well as I could all the while. But the mystery wasn¡¯t that deep. It led to a flattened-out clearing the size of a stage. I could smell traces of several people, along with bits of burlap, a tiny chicken wing still sitting on the spongy moss and being nibbled by ants, and¡­cameras. Mystery solved pretty quickly? Reed nudged the squished moss and grass with the toe of her boot, sighing. ¡°Well, it¡¯ll spring back up eventually,¡± she said, but I could tell that statement hadn¡¯t made her any happier. Turning to me, she said, ¡°You saw the other footprints, didn¡¯t you?¡± I nodded. Along with the trail we¡¯d taken to find this, there were several other foot-lines extending out, plodding roughly west. There were also traces of other feet going in tiny lines in random directions¡ªprints that I figured came from curious camerapeople wandering a little, photographing bird shadows and wondering if they were cryptids. Maybe they did that a lot. ¡°I¡­guess that means we really are all going to the mountains together, us with this famous person and her crew¡­ It could be fun, though!¡± she tacked on at the end. ¡°It will definitely be something to remember.¡± ¡°Mrrr¡­¡± ¡°If you want to turn back¡ª¡± ¡°Maow!¡± I roared. I was in no mood to turn back! In fact¡ªthough I sadly couldn¡¯t get this through Reed¡¯s well-intentioned head¡ªthe fact that DeGalle was on her way to the Kaugs made me all the more impatient! What if she left before we got there?! I had to see if her reputation was earned! To try and signal my happiness beneath my near-snarl, I relaxed my body and put more energy into waving my tail. I even made it a little doglike, for my friend, the former dog-ist. ¡°Are you telling me that you¡¯d be happy to keep going?¡± she asked. Exactly right! I nodded at high speed. ¡°If you¡¯re happy, I¡¯m happy! As long as I can hang back, and try to stay away from them. They might not be that bad, but¡­¡± I understood. Standing up, I considered giving her a rub or nuzzle on the leg, or a hug in my humanoid form¡ªjust something reassuring. Too bad wrestling with the wryneck had made me smell a bit like our old garbage. But I wouldn¡¯t have even gotten the chance. The earth below us moved. All at once, the big ¡°stage¡± we were on shifted. At first I couldn¡¯t believe it, and clearly neither could Reed, whose human-length legs were teetering. The next moment, I thought we were in an earthquake¡ªand yet the trees were still. But in my third and wisest moment, I turned my attention to my paws, and the ground. And the movements under it. The movements weren¡¯t rough and scratchy like anything seismic. They were liquid. The moss-and-grass carpet wasn¡¯t grinding against anything, it was bobbing and slanting like a raft. Reed got it just as I did: ¡°Oh no, we¡¯re not on solid land!¡± Now I could see a definite gash tearing at the edge of the flattened land. Underneath that gash was a patch of near-black water long hidden from the sun. How much of the ground was even ground here?! As I frantically wondered whether we were on a glorified peninsula or a patch of plants that was soon to become a full-on island, the gash suddenly widened. I froze up, and Reed¡¯s right hand flew over her shoulder, hovering over an Inventorized sword hilt. Two dark horns emerged from the water. I assumed we were either going to fight a dinosaur or a goat. ¡°Gackern,¡± Reed whispered, as if that solved it. The horned head rose further, revealing slimy cyan eyes. The pupils were sideways ovals, like the eyes of a frog¡­or a goat, even. Air bubbles puffed in angry jets from the still-submerged nostrils. I U-turned and was about to run for solid land when two more pairs of horns emerged, literally ripping through the green mat that had once been ground. Darn! I still had some options for escape by darting through the wide space between the horns, but judging by the speed the gackerns had used to rear up just now, escaping without a scratch would be harder than it looked. Besides¡­could Reed make it? I wouldn¡¯t abandon her (a second time), would I? No! She was preparing to run, but at the same time grabbing her sword. Well, while we were out here standing at a distance, why not test the gackerns¡¯ strength? Fire Spell! With one gackern on one side and two close together on the other, I knew where my speed and energy were better placed. Pepper cracked, charcoal sizzled, and a fireball launched right where I wanted it to: into two gackern foreheads. It was big enough to sear both and even envelop their heads in flame. But it didn¡¯t envelop their heads in flame. Their heads were covered in water. Darnit. I didn¡¯t consider that part. I¡¯d done a little damage, but clearly not much. Dried eyes blinked with irritation. Then all three gackerns ducked below the surface. Calmly. ¡°Not good,¡± Reed rattled off, with an ominous look at the moss we were standing on. We both turned to run, but I¡¯d seen it in her eyes: she worried neither of us could make it. Scaly ram heads exploded through the moss, directly underneath us! Two gackern crowns started thrashing against the air and our precious limbs. Their horns speared our ankles as we stumbled and rolled aside. Then their algae-cloaked hooves broke the surface, and their thrashing was so determined and furious that it dashed the ground apart. As those two created a growing, watery abyss in front of us, the other one tore through behind¡ªwith a flying leap. ¡°Yeek!¡± Reed cried, squinting her eyes and raising her sword. The gackern was barreling horns-first toward her face, so even as she stumbled backward on shaky ground, she leveled the sword directly between them. Apparently she meant for the sharp part to cleave right between the horns. That or she just raised it in nothing but instinct and fear¡­ Meanwhile, on my end, I¡¯d discovered something: these gackerns really weren¡¯t as dangerous as I¡¯d assumed. Not attacking in groups, at least. See, when two big animals thrashed around together, they mostly didn¡¯t hit the small animals caught in the crossfire. Yeah, they¡¯d speared me a couple of times, but never with any focus or follow-through.
HP 63% (250/398)
SP 13% (45/333)
So I was achy, and struggling to stay on the rocking, ripping moss, but I was solidly alive. A hoof whirled for me, but I dodged with ease. Then I caught the distinct smell of cinnamon and cloves and looked up. Reed had boosted her Attack! Two horns clacked against the sword as Reed put her augmented muscle against the gackern¡¯s full, soaring weight. Then, just as the matter underfoot began breaking, she pushed. The gackern fell back, and she took her chance to charge for the coast, making big slippery bounds. The gackern chased after her, their two friends ducking into the water with nothing but horns and eyes exposed. When the animal reached land, I could see them for what they were: a capricorn, fish tail hanging off the back, with the size and leathery scales of a crocodile. Yet their agility on land was unbelievable¡­in that it could move at all. Racing with the speed of a feisty seal, the gackern smacked its tail against the ground with throaty, breathy cries. I knew Reed was about to charge forward and finish the beast off. I reached solid ground too and ran with her. ¡­Wait, no! She was running away! Darn! Darn you pacifists! I was burningly close to my next Level¡ªand the SP recovery wouldn¡¯t hurt at all either! Would I join Reed, making good on my desire to stay with her in times of great danger like this? No, since I had already bolted into the earthbound gackern¡¯s face and couldn¡¯t stop now. ¡°Hrrph!¡± The capricorn spat a wad of spit in my eyes. That empty insult wouldn¡¯t stop me! Except that it was actually a water-based Skill, as I learned too late, a glob whirling into my flesh with incredible speed and threatening to pulverize it. I powered through the pain, but I sure did notice it.
HP 44% (174/398)
Still, I didn¡¯t use a Minor Heal to get me back to a good amount of health. Why would I when I was this close and the water magic at play was so¡­puny? Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. By the time I was hit, I¡¯d closed the gap. But here was where the real challenge lay: not with the gackern¡¯s Attack, but with their Defense. Even from a distance, their scales looked as tough and rigid as alligator hide. I didn¡¯t doubt that they were stronger still, given that this was Vencia and all. My SP wasn¡¯t getting any higher, so I wouldn¡¯t be able to chance a Slash or even a Swipe. If I hit that skin with my un-powered claws alone, they¡¯d merely score the surface, and several scratches would be as good as swatting a scratching post. With a little pain in my gut at blowing my resources so soon, I burned off the second of five Attack Ups, boosting my non-Skill power farther. Then I jumped for the vulnerable flesh¡ªthe eyes. I had never done anything this brutal. Spearing another animal right in the eyes¡­this was definitely a first, and strangely I knew it was far from the last time. I¡¯ll try not to describe the feeling. Well, maybe a little. Plunging two front paws into two orbits was a little like thrusting them in warm yogurt. Ew. And as my hind legs found purchase on the gackern¡¯s snout, I felt the head sway, and heard the creature snort. But even as I ripped my paws out, the gackern didn¡¯t fall. They had taken an eye-gouging like it was nothing. The next moment, their head whipped sideways incredibly fast and cracked me against the ground, a makeshift, skull-hard bludgeon. My front paws held fast to the sides of their head, but my back ones skittered off, and as the gackern reared up again, they flailed.
HP 23% (92/398)
Guard! I thought near-instinctively.
SP 6% (19/333)
This was beyond deadly. It was a kind of supernatural endurance and will to live and battle that almost felt like spite. Like the gackern existed to point and laugh at my failure. No way I was going to stay on this head and let them rodeo-buck me a second time. I dropped to solid earth. But now I was out of ideas. I seriously wanted to end this battle on a high note¡­but how? I could go for the neck or the belly, but how would those be any softer than the eyeballs? Should I manage a hairball and see if that worked like the spit projectile?! A cry sounded out from behind me: ¡°Fireball!¡± Reed was watching from the trees¡ªactually, she was racing closer. Had she run far away, noticed I wasn¡¯t with her, and now run right back? It seemed so. I was just glad to have her. Only¡­was this gackern¡¯s flesh really dry enough to catch fire? ¡°Fireball inside!¡± she added. Inside of what? Mentally, I slapped myself. Come on, Taipha, activate that lateral thinking¡­ She meant ¡°inside the body.¡± Ew ew ew ew. Fine! Fine, maybe that was the only way this battle could turn out well for me. And maybe this was my just desserts for always craving more brutality! Either way, I was going to have to jump and latch on again. That was hard when the gackern was flinging its head down toward me again¡ªhorns turned like a two-pronged club. I bounced away, but the club caught my tail.
HP 15% (59/398)
The pain made me grit my teeth, but it was nothing serious. Thanks to Reed, I was ready to end this now. Doubling back, I made a second bounce that landed me back on their head. The gackern rose undeterred. They had no idea what was coming. I jammed my paws into their mouth. Then there was burning. Why couldn¡¯t more animals be like the wrynecks and just challenge other forest friends to wrestling matches? Why did these gackerns¡ªwho definitely looked like herbivores with their flat teeth and goatishness¡ªtake us on with crazed delight? These were just excuses. I found myself making them more and more, deflecting a guilt I had never felt when I had to fight back on Earth. Fire, I thought, the fight ending with a bitter pang. Heat had erupted in the gackern¡¯s skull. I jumped away, and a bleat followed me down. The body fell sideways, and the head smoked. I looked away from the body. Suddenly I noticed how quickly I was breathing.
Level Up!
My power boost did feel earned. It did feel deserved. And I didn¡¯t feel wrong for pursuing it¡­did I? It¡¯s fine. You¡¯re fine, I told myself. And you¡¯re already working on a solution to¡­well, the guilt you¡¯re beginning to feel. You challenge your friends to stuff! But it just wasn¡¯t as effective as killing walking bags of Experience. Well, I added, if you get stronger, you won¡¯t have to splatter others¡¯ brains just to land a solid hit! ¡­I had to admit, that was too true. I heard two more bleats not far away. The moss where Reed and I had once stood was now officially a pit of water with strips of lichen bobbing around on the surface. Were those other two gackerns preparing to make a new net of it or something, renew the trap? Or were they¡­oh, darnit, they were mourning, they had to be mourning. Time to shake the melancholy thoughts out of my mind. Reed was here, and she waved with a smile. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I abandoned you,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to be pulling my weight here, and¡­I never expect you to be as interested in combat and hunting as you are.¡± She smacked herself in the side of the head with regret. My thoughts were going in a few different directions here. I refocused on my Level-Up:
Lv. 17 ¡ú Lv. 18
EXP: 42% (1123/2700)
HP 100% (420/420)
SP 100% (355/355)
ATK 67
INT 46 (+1!)
DEF 48
WIS 35 (+1!)
SPD 60
Meat Locker Unlocked!
New Trait Added: Inventory (Stage 1/4) Your Meat Locker, much like your Inventory, is an interdimensional hyperspace carrying case. However, this one is reserved exclusively for storing your grisly kills. Meat maintained in the Meat Locker will be kept as fresh as the day it was slain.
Agh! Getting this upgrade would¡¯ve felt perfect if I¡¯d gotten it a few days ago. Now I wanted to vomit.
Any matter which was recently considered animal (within the span of 365 days, unless exceptionally preserved) can be carried in your Meat Locker. Currently you can hold up to 3 meat types in your Meat Locker. Up to 99 of each meat object can be carried.
And on top of everything else, its restrictions were weirdly different from the baseline Inventory too. Much smaller. I was so glad I hadn¡¯t gotten seriously excited for the Meat Locker. At least it could get this gackern body out of my sight as soon as possi¡ª Oh, Reed was taking a close look at the horns. ¡°Maybe if we take this home,¡± she said, ¡°I can put these to good use. Only if you don¡¯t mind.¡± I did mind, but I¡¯d stop minding within twenty-four hours. For now, I just nodded and pocketed the body in the no-longer-mysterious Meat Locker.
Meat Locker: 1/3
Gackern (Whole) Texture: Tough Flavor Profile: Gamey Tip: Pair with dark wine.
¡­I had no words. I think Reed sensed my odd discomfort, even if she couldn¡¯t place what it came from. So she shifted the subject a tad. ¡°I heard that about half of the Aerie Swamp is solid ground, and the rest is just water and hard-packed moss,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s stable through most of the year. It only loosens up or breaks when, well, there¡¯s an atypical amount of pressure.¡± She pursed her lips. ¡°The wildlife here knows you¡¯re not supposed to have large herds or gatherings here. Too many tromping feet and it sinks. But not by cracking, like ice. Like I said, it gets loose first.¡± Her gaze went back toward the gackern pit. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if we found lots of cameras and chicken wings in that water.¡± And that might have made the gackerns angry, confused. I told myself to walk with caution¡ªand reserved¡ªthe next time I caught myself out here.
Current Location: Gackern Swallows (S.C5)
We trotted on southwest, gradually curving pure-west, as I listened to Reed muse on ideas about how she could communicate with me better. This only made my spirit sink a little lower. I couldn¡¯t talk, and her talent at reading a cat could only go so far. Give it time and the bad mood will pass. Time and Levels. 71. Mist over Straw
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 30% (9/30)
Current Location: ??? (S.B5)
We¡¯d moved on from the Gackern Swallows (ew ew ew) and were definitely approaching the Kaugs. The signs were everywhere. We¡¯d left the woods, ending up in a field of tall grass dotted with windblown trees, and thanks to a delicate mist in the waning daylight, everything had a pall of gray. ¡°It¡¯ll roll up into pieces of thick fog by this evening,¡± Reed said, a warning. ¡°Since we need to climb up a mountainside a little ways before we can collect the poledust, we¡¯ll want to camp for the night. Or¡­I¡¯ll want to, and I highly recommend it for you¡­¡± The mountains loomed ever larger on the horizon. The tallest and most erratic mountains I could imagine, coming closer, becoming more real, with every step. Fog may have been taking its time with us, but it had already coiled around the mountains¡¯ feet, and even from this far away, we could see it writhing. But between us and the mountains was this windy passage of plains, and its animals were very much awake. Unlike the other stretch of plains I¡¯d seen in the western half of the Vencian Woods, I couldn¡¯t see any watering holes. But we didn¡¯t go through the grass, which as so tall and fuzzy that we would have to wade it came up to Reed¡¯s waist and my¡­nothing. Why did I even continue that sentence?). We cut through the grass only to make it to the road. There were roads here? For once?? Well, it was a path, or unpaved, made by nothing but earth-flattening and grass-cutting. Near the start of it was a donut around an old rock well. A cluster of goldfinches was hopping and tweeting around the well¡¯s rim, with an occasional jump inside and a splash. ¡°DeGalle¡¯s crew has definitely been here,¡± Reed said, wrinkling her nose. ¡°It¡¯s obvious to you too, right? These footprints, the paper cups here on the ground, and¡­¡± She sniffed hard. ¡°There was smoke here.¡± Yep, Reed was pointing out all the things I¡¯d already observed. Especially the flattened and char-tinged patch of ground where they must have cooked their latest meal. Here and there in the thick grass were scraps of the goat or sheep they¡¯d eaten. ¡°Let¡¯s take a rest and then move on.¡± ¡°Meow!¡± I said heartily, right before jumping onto the edge of the well and scattering all the frightened birds. I made it in a single bound, without my hind legs having to scrabble up the edge! That pleased me. Those Stat gains were making a difference even in these kinds of day-to-day actions. Taking a drink was another matter. This well didn¡¯t have a hanging bucket or any apparatus whatsoever for bringing up the water. I guessed humans were expected to bring their own? The water¡¯s surface, dark and shining like a plane of onyx, was too far both for my body and for human hands. Reed¡¯s finger poked at my shoulder. ¡°Sorry if I¡¯m interrupting another willful challenge, but¡­there¡¯s a pump over there. It might be easier.¡± I swiveled my head. Ah. Now that I had a better vantage point and could see over the relentless grass, I saw the top of a pump. If one person worked the lever, water would come up from the vein it tapped, sliding down the chute. It was supposed to clang into a bucket, but today it was going right into my mouth. She asked, and I gave the okay. I expected a gentle stream to arc toward me¡ªmaybe splatter my head on accident for a moment, but I¡¯d recover. Instead, my uvula was slammed by a watery bullet.
HP 95% (397/420)
It had no right to be that vigorous! Uh, maybe the problem was that my uvula had no right to stand right under it¡­but whatever, the pump didn¡¯t come with instructions, and I was only using common sense! Reed stopped in a panic, which I considered an overreaction. My skull had been shoved close to the ground, not onto it. ¡°Are you okay?!¡± she cried. ¡°Mreaow!¡± I said, swinging back to position. Meaning, Keep it going like your life depends on it!! ¡°Are you sure about this? I mean, I can just¡­or maybe you can just¡­¡± Oh yeah. She was right! She could have just or I could just! Uh, I mean, she could¡¯ve cupped the water in her own hands, and I could¡¯ve Morphed. That made more sense. Without a moment¡¯s hesitation, and with a cloud of smoke that soon melted into the general mist, I changed forms. Then I squatted and held my mouth immediately below the¡ªjust kidding, I cupped my hands. Though doing this made me feel a bit defeated and cowed. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Now Reed was more than happy to dole out the water, one handful at a time. I had my fill. It was a big relief after involuntarily drinking all of that gross filmy swamp juice with the gackern fight. It had an interesting finish, too, very mineral and oddly bright. We switched places and I worked the pump for Reed. Then I helped her refill her canteen, plus a spare. ¡­That thing was looking good right about now. Since we had a lot of adventuring left to go and, potentially, not a lot of water sources. I pointed a finger at the water Reed was drinking and made my best attempt at an interrogative ¡°meow.¡± She gulped it down before saying, ¡°Huh? Oh, yes, there¡¯s more water pumps along the way. Hopefully well maintained. And there¡¯s a small river running through the Kaugs, if you¡¯d rather have that.¡± I pointed at the canteen she was still holding and made my best attempt at an interrogative ¡°meow¡± plus endearing, pleading eyes. Her expression lightened. ¡°You would like to drink water even more frequently than at the pumps! I¡¯m so relieved. You have no idea¡ªI worry sometimes¡­ Of course you can take this.¡± She handed me the canteen. It felt good in my hand, strong from the hide and frame it was made from. I really wanted to drop it in my Inventory, but¡­I had crammed it with items both useful and useless (except in case of emergency, like a sudden dragon¡¯s descent). The sword didn¡¯t have a scabbard, and Chora¡¯s Crystal Ring could fall off if something sliced it off its anklet. Theoretically, I could put these objects in a burlap sack (if Reed brought one), but¡­you don¡¯t have time to be rummaging around in a sack in an emergency. And wouldn¡¯t Spells put together in a burlap sack just activate on and destroy each other? If any trick like that to Inventorizing them actually worked, Reed¡ªthe human with years of experience using them¡ªwould¡¯ve done it before me. Ah, whatever. All this is to say I settled for briefly swapping out Chora¡¯s Crystal Ring for the canteen, just to see what the description said.
Reed¡¯s Canteen A cowhide bottle currently filled with water from the plain you are currently standing in. You will feel like a fool if you lose this.
I don¡¯t need Inventory descriptions to make me look like a fool. I do it myself every day! Reed made me look foolish too, honestly. When I thought she was a coward, she was really acting reasonably for a Level-less being, and poised to give advice and fiery sniping¡­and now she offered me water from responsible sources while I wanted to massacre my throat and dive headfirst into a well. Enough about me and my pathetic Intelligence Stat. The road awaited! I begrudgingly nudged Reed¡¯s canteen back to her, and we went on our way. It was hard to believe, given the view ahead, that we were still in the Vencian Wood. If it weren¡¯t for the trees bordering this expanse far to north and south, lurking on the edges of our vision, I would¡¯ve assumed we¡¯d disappeared and suddenly materialized miles and miles off. As we continued down the path, we passed more non-foresty wonders. Bristly blossoms in purples, blues, and standout dabs of yellow. Trees, rare and crisp, with leaves that looked more like hanging twine. What would happen to these dry plants when the mist rolled in? I was getting antsy about fighting. And yet I was antsy about avoiding fighting. My mind was really torn, only partially recovered from the oddly traumatic gackern fight. One part of me wanted to relax. But another¡ªthe ego, I guessed¡ªwanted to fight for the purposes of getting stronger. And my deepest and wildest id just liked the meat and carnage. Even though I had a chronic problem with sizing up my prey, and even our Spell supplies were limited¡­when we neared an armadillo waddling quietly by, an image instantly flashed in my head: me flopping them over and clawing out their soft, squishy intestines. Reed caught my eyes lingering on the armadillo. Misinterpreting my meaning completely, she said, ¡°That one¡¯s called an armadillo.¡± ¡°Mreaow¡­¡± Enough was enough. I stopped in my tracks. Reed stopped too. ¡°What is it?¡± I, uh¡­um¡­ugh, there was nothing else for it. No stream of meows, maows, and paw-waving could communicate this accurately. Possibly not even words could do it! I had to transform and speak, even though it¡¯d take about a million years and I¡¯d be cringing inwardly every second. Poof! Yet now that I was standing here on two fidgety legs, my mind had turned to total mush. I pounded a fist into a palm. Between mountains of stutters, I eked out a ¡°want¡­fight¡­¡± Hmm. Not quite what I wanted to say either. She came close enough that I could see the sympathetic pity in her eyes. It rankled what pride I still had. ¡°I have my own philosophy on fighting,¡± Reed said, ¡°and, well¡­I shouldn¡¯t expect you to share it. I¡¯ll kill for food or resources, and I love using any talents I have to help people, but otherwise, I don¡¯t like to. The older I get, the more I¡­start to hate it. I don¡¯t even like battling the way I did as a kid, unless it¡¯s just sparring.¡± She scratched the back of her neck. ¡°I guess I¡¯m weak.¡± I gazed into eyes that looked like they might with tears. What she hadn¡¯t said, and hadn¡¯t needed to say, was how pathetic she felt not managing to help me these past two encounters. Reed, I wanted to say, of course that makes you weak in the animalistic, survival-of-the-fittest sense. But you¡¯re a human, and I thought they were supposed to have that sorted out¡­so I don¡¯t think those animal norms apply anymore? Correct me if I¡¯m wrong. This was exactly why I needed that speech cantrip ASAP. But I did, over the course of ten seconds, manage to choke out words resembling, ¡°You¡¯re fine.¡± Was compromise what she wanted? Sure, limiting my path of destruction would be okay. It¡¯d also encourage me to size up my foes more actively, more accurately. ¡°If we¡¯re going to spend any time together, I just need to accept this about you,¡± Reed said. ¡°I promise I¡¯ll defend you¡ªI¡¯ll even fight by your side. I¡¯ll quit running away.¡± She sniffed. ¡°Now, go fight that armadillo. They taste really good.¡± Did she mean that? Or was she mainly being polite? I felt a bit awkward about taking her at her word, since she didn¡¯t seem totally happy about this conclusion. But maybe I was reading her a little wrong. And maybe, with me being a cat and/or spirit, she knew she couldn¡¯t expect me to read human emotions or human irony perfectly. We really were both learning. I buried our faces in a quick, tight hug. As I wondered if wiping her eyes would be the perfect move or a step too far, I heard rustling. I turned away from Reed and faced the armadillo, which was ever so slowly waddling into the grass. The quarry was getting away¡­ But there was something more, bigger and fiercer and yet possible to take down. Right behind the armadillo, a hulking and picturesque silhouette against the fading daylight, was a bull. They had just finished chewing up some grass. Their raised neck, head, and clothesline horns looked downright panoramic. And they seemed to be paying us no mind. With hardly a second thought, I repositioned Reed so that she was shoulder to shoulder with me. We were both facing the bull, and she had brought out a sword and I my claws. Then I tapped her sword with my kneecap and gave her a serious look, eyes gazing from under my tilted head. You are fine the way you are, I was saying, but if you think you¡¯re weak, let¡¯s change that. If you promise to fight by my side, let¡¯s prove it. I changed back into cat form, the way I was most comfortable fighting. Here is some rawhide and we¡¯re gonna eat it. 72. Rawhide This time, Reed was surprisingly quick on the uptake. A grazing bull stood a mere two meters away, took a placid step. Their horns were heavy, but we were nimble. Plus, the sword that Reed had taken into her calm hands could match the horns in size and beat them in weight. We weren¡¯t killing in self-defense, but in my book, self-defense isn¡¯t the only law of nature. There¡¯s also the law of self-improvement and the law of glory. Fight for glory, Reed! Fight the way you once caught mountains of fish and trounced your older brother! Fight for our bond! And fight for the thrill! Adrenaline, a law of the body, sped us on. In a move that was simultaneously careful, artful, and lightning-fast, Reed thrust an opening blow into the bull¡¯s flank. The blade seared. In the blink of an eye, the sword caught fire, sending an orange blaze through the open wound. She¡¯d combined her sword stab with a Fire Spell! And I was picking up the telltale smell of a Strength Up¡ªthis young lady was putting everything into it! The bull howled immediately. Reed held firm and drove the blade in deeper while I charged in. Attack Up! And Slash! I lunged for what was only a mostly grisly body part to exploit: the throat. Man, we were really fighting dirty. A flood of energy entered my front paws. It made me irrationally giddy as I slammed bodily into my target. The bull¡¯s head swung with the force of my impact. They even lost balance, stumbling sideways. Reed kept pace, hopping forward and driving the sword in. As for me, I latched on with both teeth and claws. I hadn¡¯t scored a critical hit, but that didn¡¯t mean charged-up claws didn¡¯t hurt. A newly delirious voice inside of me cried, Dig those claws in! Another groan, this time with a hint of death-shriek in it, gurgled from the bull¡¯s mouth. It was getting harder to scream, what with the neck wound I¡¯m going to euphemistically call a ¡°blood waterfall.¡± I thought the battle was over. It wasn¡¯t. Only after our priority team attack could the bull begin to fight back, but when they did¡­ An explosive burst threw me off the bull¡¯s throat. I hit the earth so hard that I left a hole¡ªand dug it with that vertebra right where my head ended and my neck began. I¡¯d just been cracked, in multiple places. (I had discovered a new vulnerable spot.)
HP 56% (235/420)
SP 60% (212/355)
What had that been? A sudden fire blast? Nope, but the energy now coating the bull did have the force and fury of a sustained supernova. They were writhing on the ground, screeching all the while. Splashes of blood joined the yellow-white flares whipping off them. The temperature around us had been pumped up by what felt like a hundred degrees. But this was the terrifying part: their wounds were healing. Reed was in a position kinda like mine, only she¡¯d hit her side and her sword was sitting between her and the bull, just out of reach. Clearly the bull knew this, because they were flinging their horns back and forth over the sword, ready to give Reed¡¯s reaching hand a good stabbing. Ah, why didn¡¯t we bring one of Bayce¡¯s pully Spells¡­ To add to the inherent dangers of an angry, rapidly regenerating bull, we were also beginning to bake in the heat. However¡­with workable HP and Healing Spells in the back pocket, we weren¡¯t exactly down for the count. Running was out of the question. For one thing, if we ran, there was a ninety-nine percent chance that the bull would simply charge after us. Leaving aside Reed, I wasn¡¯t confident I could outrun them because I had a hunch their Level was higher than mine¡ªand they knew the landscape better than me. Even if I was more agile, a bull that radiates continually rising heat in a general area around themself will get you whether you move clever or not. So I concocted a plan, one I couldn¡¯t communicate to Reed in any way besides just playing it out and trusting her ability to pick up on it. That was how it worked in the wild, after all. I ran a short distance away from the bull, stopped when they raised their head my way, and readied a Fire Spell. Reed froze in the middle of standing up, gave me a plaintive look. She didn¡¯t know I had the Spell name floating in my head. But I¡¯d run backward because I had a feeling she had higher Attack and Defense than me, and likely more HP too. Tanks stay in the front while the makeshift magicians stay in back. No regrets! Whatever hurt feelings or confusion Reed might¡¯ve had at the start, she shook those off and got to her feet just as the bull was returning to theirs. The bull¡¯s wounds were still dripping blood, but it was amazing how thoroughly they¡¯d sealed up by now. Even the scars, under the relentless glow of their energy burst, were erasing themselves. Didn¡¯t mean they were closed completely, though. And a weak point was a weak point. I launched my Fire at their throat. Before the blast made contact, they shifted to catch the Spell with their shoulder instead. That move cost them¡ªReed simply jabbed her newly flaming sword through the other side of their throat. They¡¯d had to choose between guarding against magic and guarding against physically assisted magic, and they¡¯d unquestionably chosen wrong. Now Reed, emboldened, went berserk. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. With an out-and-out battle cry, she took her Attack Up-enhanced sword and began seriously cutting into the bull, all over, with relentless jabs and slices. All the while, the supernova bull was flailing and stomping. I watched as tongues of energy licked past Reed, burning her flesh. And then, in the middle of a sword slash, one of those massive horns whacked her in the arm, goring it. I was starting to regret pulling someone else into my own recklessness¡­but at least I realized I could launch a Minor Heal at her from afar. I did exactly that. For the first time I saw how these heals looked when cast: it could¡¯ve been a bullet of nothing but pulsing air. Think of ripples in the water and you have some idea about these ripples in the sky. The Spell hit Reed, right on target, and now she was regenerating with the best of them. Of course, a one-time heal wasn¡¯t going to work the same way as this constant-explosion Skill (or whatever it was). It didn¡¯t bring full recovery, but it worked thoroughly and fast. This got her spirits up. Somehow, maybe from experience, I could tell that the aura of strength around her was flickering out. She took this as her cue to dart to the side of another fierce horn swing. Then, raising her head high and her sword higher, she rasped out another cry. The sword came down, chopping the bull¡¯s head cleanly off. The head fell. Then the body leaned until it toppled. It fell into the grass with so much weight that the earth shook for a moment. Only after that did its healing aura begin to drift away, until all that was left was a battered corpse.
Level Up!
Lv. 18 ¡ú Lv. 19
EXP: 1% (32/2850)
HP 100% (443/443)
SP 100% (373/373)
ATK 72 (+1!)
INT 48
DEF 51
WIS 38 (+1!)
SPD 63
I ran to Reed and looked up at her, wide-eyed. She dropped her sword with an exhausted clatter. Her panting and sweat were heavy, and she was staring blankly at the dead body. My only feelings at that moment were gratitude and awe. How did she get such good aim under pressure? And had she, like me¡­Leveled Up? Maybe I could find out? But cat gestures would never be enough. I went into nekomata form. ¡°L-l-l-lev¡­?¡± I asked, pointing upward. (For those not in the know, this gesture cleverly signified ¡°up.¡±) She looked at me with the same empty look. ¡°I don¡¯t know what a ¡®lev¡¯ is,¡± she said. A few seconds later, I managed to get out a ¡°level.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what you mean by that either¡ªoh, but thank you for that battle!¡± She changed subjects with a sudden fling of her body into mine. Her attack-hug came so out-of-the-blue that my arms couldn¡¯t properly respond. They were just raised in quiet surrender. ¡°We worked well together, I think,¡± she said into my hair. ¡°Thank you for the Spell support.¡± ¡°M-meow.¡± ¡°And thank you for the workout. And for the reminder.¡± She backed up a little so that we were face-to-face. I lowered my arms, though I was aware that my face still looked a little frazzled. ¡°I used to be envious of my mother and father. The way they fought together. But now¡­¡± She chuckled. ¡°I really do take after them. And I have his aim!¡± Softly she let go of me, picked up the sword again. ¡°¡­Yeah,¡± she said, seeming mystified. ¡°I really don¡¯t mind if I¡¯m protecting someone¡­¡± She began moving the blade around. First in what looked like standard practice moves, then like a bunting pinch hitter. She almost seemed to be rediscovering the thing, and an exuberance she¡¯d once had. I was a little dazed myself. Already the final blow I¡¯d just seen was blowing up in my mind, becoming more¡­cinematic. Like the world had frozen when she chopped off that head. Like the cool music had cut out, then risen to triumph. But also, I¡¯d realized something had changed about me, and it couldn¡¯t quite be boiled down to ¡°becoming semi-human.¡± Way back when I¡¯d met Reed on the mountain, I had wanted nothing more than to show off my own talents in front of her. Like that would repay her for the good turn she¡¯d done me. But now that I knew Reed had mixed feelings about violence, I also gathered that this¡­wasn¡¯t exactly the coolest way to show off in front of her. I mean, she could show off to me this way and I¡¯d be dazzled, but not vice-versa. And on top of that, I was beginning to feel other things about combat besides ¡°this is necessary¡± and ¡°this is cool.¡± And feel them maybe too deeply for comfort. I guessed that among humans, that was a sign of maturity. But for predators, getting lost in that mire is the height of immaturity. So¡­there was nothing else for it. I definitely had to work out a code of ethics for myself sometime soon, didn¡¯t I? Gah. I wasn¡¯t supposed to sound this cerebral, I didn¡¯t even have glasses! As I un-Morphed and cat-tiptoed up to the waiting corpse, Reed stopped me by saying, ¡°If it¡¯s alright, please don¡¯t put it in your Inventory yet. I want to give it a look, because¡­¡± She blushed and turned away. ¡°I might want to use the horns.¡± Somehow I knew that that one wasn¡¯t even innuendo (even though it sounded vaguely, halfway like innuendo). But then¡­why the blush? I mean, she hadn¡¯t blushed when she was making any skin contact with me¡ªat least it made some sense to me that physical contact could be embarrassing sometimes. So¡­was it just¡­her blushing at the idea of performing hunterly chores in front of me? It would¡¯ve been worthy of a sigh, if I could do that right now. If my theory was right, she was blushing at chores. I meowed enthusiastically. Yeah, Reed! Come on! Please geek out over something you have deep knowledge of! ¡°But this might not be the best place to do it,¡± Reed said, followed by a sudden pause. We both realized that the evening had turned to night. Forget that it¡¯d be hard to look this body over in the almost total absence of light¡ªthere were creatures about, and tall grassland was good for wolves. ¡°Let¡¯s set up camp someplace less open and exposed. Then we can have a barbecue! (If you¡¯d eat that.) So for now, let¡¯s move the bull!¡± ¡°Meow!¡± I said, meaning, Great idea! I¡¯ll just stash it in my Meat Locker. ¡°Let¡¯s¡ªhuff¡ªsee if I can lift it,¡± Reed said, so carried away by enthusiasm that she was doing the Reedy equivalent of leaping headfirst into a well when good water was a pump away. She, squatted, thrust two arms underneath the bull, and then, like a forklift, began to rise. ¡°Hnnrgh¡­¡± ¡°Mraow-w¡­¡± Reed fell over. 73. Beef and Stars Soup Just as I was puzzling over how to set up Reed¡¯s campsite when Reed herself was fast asleep (having just passed out both from sincere exhaustion and from sincere enthusiasm for helping me wrestle a bull), she woke up again. ¡°Sorry,¡± she said, clearly dazed. But I was sorrier that I hadn¡¯t thought to nudge her head onto something, anything, softer than the flat dirt it¡¯d fallen on. In response to her apology¡ªan apology for what I considered a sudden, involuntary and blameless fall¡ªI just shook my head. Then I transformed for a couple of minutes, helping her first to her knees and then to her feet. The impressive carcass of the bull we¡¯d slain had gone into my Meat Locker. Which I checked out:
Meat Locker: 2/3 Gackern (Whole) Nova Bull (Whole) Texture: Stringy Flavor Profile: Earthy Tip: Break out the tenderizer!
What was with this highly specific item vault? Was there some kind of deeper purpose to it? Was I supposed to feed someone specific with it? Like a dragon? A village? Some large animal family?
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
Hey there! Just dropping by to say I¡¯ve been proud of you lately.
Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata has disconnected.
Whuh?! O-oh¡­well, that¡¯s nice o¡ªhey, wait, you didn¡¯t answer my question! Ugh. Enough of that, I guessed. Anyway, while Reed had been lying on the ground for like three minutes, I¡¯d also been meditating more on hunting. Yes, that¡¯s right, even more. It would be wiser after all to switch gears, at least for a little. Kill when I needed to, spare my enemies when the duel was done. I¡¯d already been shying away from killing insects for a while now¡ªbesides a chase now and then, they weren¡¯t fun to go after anymore. Now, though, I was making an official hunting policy, and not just for fun¡¯s sake. And despite it meaning fewer wild, no-holds-barred beatdowns, I felt alright about that. As we hurried down the dark road, with Reed pulling ahead of me, I studied her. Watching her fight had raised more questions in my mind¡ªor, rather, recalled them. I mean¡­did she even have SP? The only Skill-like things she appeared to have were the Advance Spells that she¡¯d physically taken along. Based on my experience casting some myself, those consumed none of the user¡¯s SP. They really were totally made in advance, everything needed bundled up together. Therefore, humans had no natural Skills? Except Chora, who¡­okay, maybe those weren¡¯t natural. Not to say they were unnatural, but clearly she had to train. So maybe she was maintaining them, with magical martial arts. But that would mean they weren¡¯t innate, right? And humans seemingly didn¡¯t Level Up. Whatever HP and SP thresholds Reed had now, they were probably hers for life. Unless bodybuilding raised them higher, or things like that. Probably? That sounded correctish, didn¡¯t it? I felt bad for her, then realized I was kinda also feeling bad for everyone back on Earth where Levels, Stats, and compensatory magic didn¡¯t exist at all. We stopped at a boulder that leaned so dramatically that it almost made an overhang. It was also five times Reed¡¯s height. ¡°When I¡¯m out, I want to feel like there¡¯s something secure at my back,¡± she said as she fiddled with a tarp-heap of items pulled from her Inventory. ¡°Rocks, mountains. Or, failing that, I want some uneven terrain. Anything but¡­flat flatness. That would just eerie to me. I wouldn¡¯t be able to sleep.¡± Reed¡¯s words had the side effect of making the world around us feel ghostly. Mist was passing, coming in tides and patches, and yet that haunted feeling had settled in to stay. As Reed took an interesting pouch out of the pile, she set her back against the boulder. The boulder seemed set against the far-off Kaugs. And the Kaugs were raging with clouds. I scratched idly at the boulder. Was there any amount of poledust in it? Probably not, since if there was, Reed would¡¯ve started picking at it by now. But it was pretty all the same. Even in darkness, I could make out strips of silver and dead-coral blue, under a veil of mineral sparkles. The sound of a big tarp flopping out shocked me to my bones. I craned my neck. I saw nothing. Then my night vision kicked in. I saw something! A big colorless tarp, the same one that Reed had used during her campout at Beacon Mountain, had flopped up and out of the pile of its own accord. Or Reed¡¯s magic-inflected accord, more likely. I wondered if it still had any rain on the top, from last time. Even without water vapor, it was gonna get a bit chilly tonight. That¡¯s what Reed¡¯s insta-campfire was for, of course! A wooden cylinder, set carefully on a flattened patch of grass and inside a simple ring of stones, transformed with an odd creak. It expanded, then multiplied into full kindling. ¡°Fire,¡± Reed murmured. The coal chip in her upturned palm crackled into an egg of fire. She lowballed it at the kindling. For several seconds, it rumbled around at the base of the sticks, like an impish child hiding, running around under table legs. Then, all at once, the pile was ablaze. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Fire is a terrifying thing. If animals told stories the way humans do, they¡¯d mythologize it. It¡¯s a thing without substance, only heat and a ghost. Nothing uses it except humans and lightning bolts¡ªthe fingers of gods. I was feeling unusually contemplative, and mellow, and wiped out. All these things fed into each other. Groggily, I released the bull¡¯s carcass from my Meat Locker and watched Reed go about dressing it. ¡°Sorry! It¡¯ll take a while for me to get it right,¡± she said over her shoulder. ¡°You might want to eat some meat of your own instead. Or¡­first?¡± I meowed in the affirmative, as vigorously as I could. Since I wanted to get a taste of Vencian steak, and really savor it, I decided not to try picking at the gackern. (Naturally, that was not the only reason I didn¡¯t start on it.) I really, truly wanted to keep my eyes open. I was curious to find out what the process of dressing looked like, or even¡­was. After watching, catnapping, watching, drifting off, and watching again, I can tell you this: she used three knives, and there was a lot of butchering. It must¡¯ve been two in the morning when she tapped me on the back to tell me she was done. ¡°Psst¡­ Hey,¡± she whispered in my ear. Either it was my imagination, or her nose had brushed the very tip of my ear. I woke up with a stretch. I felt very refreshed, and not just in terms of Stats. My mind was clear, startlingly so, and the whole campsite Reed had set up was clearer too, clear and bright. Somehow the mist was rolling in yet passing around us. Somehow I knew it was the strength of the fire that did it. Best of all, she¡¯d prepared platters of food for us both to share¡ªmultiple cuts in multiple ways, seasoned and unseasoned, a few still raw, mashed potatoes optional. ¡°I hope you like some of it,¡± she said with a modest bow. The bones of the bull were spread behind her, shining dull-orange in the flickering firelight. I wanted to tell her, I will like all of it. Because when you made it, you took your time. And you poured yourself into it. And even though you may not love to fight, you loved making exquisite use of the victory you got. ¡°Meow!¡± The buffet began. I sampled everything I could. Which surprised Reed, because I had a habit of being picky or standoffish about food. Tonight, definitively, once and for all, I felt that raw meat was not the most delicious of meats. And for the first time, I faced the startling fact that having vegetables in combination with meat could actually make them both more flavorful. I had a hard time admitting that part to myself. One pivotal step closer to these humans, and to having to cook my own food and make my own fires¡ªanother step away from my old home. Don¡¯t think like that, I chided myself as I shut my eyes for a moment, savoring the flavor of some well-salted flank steak. Haven¡¯t you already settled this? You don¡¯t live out there anymore! And you have a new home! There was Reed, sitting on a rock across from me, forking a purplish mushroom into her mouth. Between bites, there were moments when her mouth hung open, about to speak. If I had to guess why, it was because she had so much to ask me, just like I had so much to ask her, and the silences between us were beginning to ache. But yeah. I liked the seasoned flank steak the most¡­ I put some leftovers in my Meat Locker, and Reed put others in her allegedly smell-absorbing Inventory. As for the bones, Reed took a few of them and encouraged me to claim what I liked. Of course she¡¯d taken the horns, but she also sat with the rest for a while, for an intriguingly long time. For long moments she would close her eyes. Why, though? Sure, she¡¯d handled the spiritual conflict at the Beacon pretty confidently, but it wasn¡¯t like she channeled spirits or chatted with them¡­I assumed. She turned and caught me staring. I flinched. ¡°Oh, I just like to do this. I just feel it¡¯s right.¡± She was so bashful that it was obvious she didn¡¯t have a coherent, logical explanation. I didn¡¯t mind that. She went on, ¡°I don¡¯t even feel right about bringing home trophies. If I use these bones, it¡¯ll be for art and art only.¡± But then she thought better of it. ¡°Art and broth,¡± she decided. ¡°Bone broth¡¯s supposed to be good for you.¡± Soon we¡¯d both eaten all the meat we were going to eat, and secured all the bones we could ever ask for. With a contented sigh, Reed rolled herself onto the grass. Thud. I blinked. Oh yeah, my wish that we could spend tonight under the stars! It was kinda thwarted by the fact that the tarp above us was a flat white. Yeah, I must¡¯ve been really zonked out when I described that tarp the first time, because it wasn¡¯t clear at all. We couldn¡¯t see anything without also feeling a gentle patter of rain. And yet, Reed¡¯s eyes seemed to be tracing slow paths across that ceiling. She was paying this white roof her full, relaxed attention. When I looked up a second time, the roof was gone. Translucent. The stars shone nearly as brightly through it as through air alone. I walked closer to her. Carefully, as if she were sleeping or I were trespassing. Her arms were bent into triangles, hands behind her head. Between an arm and her side, I flopped down. Then I looked in her face, wondering, Is this okay? The hint of a smile told me it was not only okay, but good. I turned my head up to the constellations. The comet-streaked, glimmering constellations. The untraceable, intractable constellations that Bayce loved so much yet would never dissect the importance of for me¡ªokay, why was it that all my plans for ¡°relaxation¡± and ¡°being comfortable around each other¡± just resulted in more questions bubbling up to the surface? It was getting annoying. Would I have to transform for another thirty seconds just to ask what the heck the starsigns were, and whether their prophecies were fake, and how I could find them? No¡­ I was so cozy here. For several minutes, Reed didn¡¯t disturb the relative silence. Beyond the crackling of the fire, we could hear wingbeats, a single howl. At some moments we seemed to be floating on our own solitary island. Eventually, she took one arm out from behind her head and traced lines in the air. I followed these lines studiously, but I couldn¡¯t retain them at all. She might as well have been a conductor leading a silent symphony. ¡°My favorite constellation swings around in the fall,¡± she said, ¡°but over there are two I¡¯ve always liked. Cheelic, the gold-antlered stag, is supposed to watch over the harvests as they¡¯re blooming. Really, he watches over everything that grows: berries and fruits, edible plants, possibly fungi too¡­ And he has a wife, Cheyoran. They don¡¯t make as many stories about her, but you¡¯d think she should be considered even more important, since she watches over all the animals, when they¡¯re in the prime of their lives.¡± She traced them both in the sky again, slowly this time. Above us hung two deer: Cheelic striding above, Cheyoran looking up below. The stars that apparently showed their eyes shone brightest in that slice of the sky. I can¡¯t promise I understand constellations. They just¡­look hardly anything like what they¡¯re supposed to represent. What looks like a pair of antlers to one community looks, to my uncultured eyes, like four stars that kinda make a trapezoid. Even I knew, though, that it¡¯s the stories behind the stars that make their shapes come to life. ¡°Cheelic and Cheyoran are also part of the band of guardians standing between this world and the spirit world,¡± Reed continued. ¡°They welcome spirits in at the height of summer. Sometimes they even lead them into their home, their den. Cheelic is supposed to be really gregarious, and he makes the spirits feel at home. And Cheyoran gets everything ready.¡± She turned to me. I could tell only by the changed direction of her voice¡ªmy eyes stayed glued to the depths of the sky. ¡°Have we helped you feel at home here?¡± Without hesitation, I meowed. She did not need to know about the growing pains. Not until we could communicate the way we most wanted to. But this wasn¡¯t bad. Without meaning to, I fell asleep leaning against her. 74. Homing Rodent Roaming A horrible sound woke me up, a sound entirely localized in my own head.
Treasure Re-Detected!
Check your Map for the location.
Wha?! Wait, not ¡°wha.¡± Again I remembered the night, oh so long ago, when I received a weird notification about a Treasure that hadn¡¯t been marked anywhere familiar on my Map. But now it was officially close by. But wait¡­unless I¡¯d rolled about fifty meters west in the night, why did it only notify me that the thing was closer now, huh?
Error: Invalid request.
But of course, a request for info tended to be an invalid request. And I was a little too groggy to head for the Help Desk right now. I chose to assume the System was just faulty so I could pin this on sysadmin error. My eyes blinked open, and I struggled to rub away all the gooey eye-grit. At my curled back were Reed¡¯s arm and side. She was still sleeping deeply, untroubled. The sky was brightening, but a few stars remained clustered in the center, the very top, of the sky. Our fire was still up, but dying out, pretty much on schedule. The smell of the bull bones was beginning to rankle. Hm. I checked my Map. Yeah, that¡¯s where I thought I remembered it being. The Treasure was in the heart of the mountains, so far in that we¡¯d inevitably be wandering longer than it¡¯d take to scrape off some poledust. This really fired me up. While I hadn¡¯t paid close attention to this Treasure or my Mapping Quest in a while, that was because so many other distractions had shown up. But this was immediate and it would be fast! Comparatively. Don¡¯t get me wrong, the other activities had all been welcome distractions¡ªlike friends and feeling at home and stuff¡ªbut still technically off-track, as far as Sierra¡¯s System was concerned.
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
Are you forgetting the fact that I¡¯m the one who encouraged you to make friends with those distracting human girls?
Um, yes I am, because you never gave me an actual Quest for that! Even though you said you would if I was good and you admitted recently that I was QUITE good!
But you see, you did fulfill a sort of Quest. Because you got stuff out of the experience. Like magic. And life satisfaction, which supersedes all.
Does it, Sierra? Does it really? My own independent life satisfaction was one thing, but Sierra and her custom catgirl System giving me my due, that was another. I yawned, and as I yawned I hoped my failing tongue might swish the System notification away. It didn¡¯t. A second, very loud yawn followed. The living pillow that¡¯d served me so well was now threatening to crush me. I yanked myself out of Reed¡¯s way. Not completely. In the process of rolling fully over, her rib cage landed on my tail. Ow. Was she awake yet? ¡­No, she wasn¡¯t awake. If Trial One had been pulling my arm out from her comatose form, Trial Two would be freeing my tail. The difficulty ramp was steep. My tail was technically more mobile, but at the cost of being physically weak, both offensively and defensively. A numb leg returning to feeling, with that pins-and-needles sensation, could be pretty painful. A numb tail hurt at least fifty percent worse. To the point that I found it necessary to check my HP and make sure it wasn¡¯t dripping out from under me.
HP 100% (443/443)
SP 100% (378/378)
Okay, good. So! I¡¯d decided! This time I wouldn¡¯t try nudging it out little by little. The pain was too urgent! I¡¯d tug it out all at once, in a single move. I got in position to take off running, although I knew I¡¯d only be running for a second at most. ¡­Threetwoone go! Skripp! Agh! Ow! I¡¯d managed to free just under half of my tail, but the part still trapped under Reed felt rugburned and badly prickled by the grass. Ow¡­let¡¯s go again. Threetwoone g¡ª G-ghh! Gg-geuuurgh, my Speed just lurched! Some animal was watching me! Right on the top of the boulder, no less¡ªthe boulder that Reed had picked out so proudly. What was that? Some kind of¡­lemmingy¡­gophery¡­marmoty thing with a single horn on their head. A long, black, ratlike tail dripped down beside them. And their beady little eyes were pointed at me. Y¡¯know, on Earth I did have moments of profound embarrassment. (In fact, this situation mirrored a time many years ago when, somehow, I got the tip of my tail caught in the bottom of a car door, and, peeking out from the edge of a trash bag, an entire family of mice watched me.) But apparently in the Vencian Wood, I was guaranteed to bump into that kind of weird kerfuffle at least once every sixteen hours. I contemplated launching a Fire Spell at the horned marmot, but¡­then I realized I didn¡¯t really have unlimited Fire Spells. Three out of five felt comfortable, but if I got down to two out of five, not even halfway through the journey¡ªand burned that number-three fireball on some random marmot that might not even turn out to be dangerous¡ªthen I¡¯d be kicking myself. Agh, but my tail was the main thing! Get away, marmot, but mostly get away Reed¡¯s sleeping torso and painful rib cage! Threetwoone go! Shriff! It worked! It w¡ªoh you¡¯ve gotta be kidding me, the very tip was still caught. Only after I¡¯d danced a dance of preemptive triumph did I find that out. Ow. The marmot didn¡¯t cackle. They didn¡¯t squeal. They only snorted uncomfortably loudly. Go find something better to do¡­ This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Tapping into my prodigious Intelligence, I realized I needed much less force than earlier to pull out the remainder of my tail. (See? I can use words like ¡°remainder.¡±) Three, two¡­gently pull¡­ And I was free. And I chased after the marmot already. The boulder, you see, wasn¡¯t totally vertical. Nor was it comfortably angled for anyone but mountain dwellers to scale¡ªbut hey, if snow leopards could do it, why not me? At any rate, this would be brief. (Hopefully.) I scrambled up the side of the boulder, and I am legitimately proud to say that I was halfway up when the marmot turned tail, spread the bat wings they suddenly had, and took off flying. Sigh, I thought. Also, Yes! I know that¡¯s a contradiction, but convincing your foes that you are a valid enough threat that escape is necessary is a kind of victory. Apparently one that you get no Experience Points for, though. The critter did a few marvelous rings in the air before disappearing into the distance. Meanwhile, with the help of gravity and many scanty footholds, I gently stepped backward and downward, off the slope. ¡°That¡¯s a hell marmot,¡± said a familiar voice. Reed must have awakened mere moments ago, because her words were a wibbly yawn. I trotted down to meet her. And meat her, as in, join her with meat, the same meat we¡¯d enjoyed last night. That¡¯s not innuendo. *** Though the mist in the fields had passed, the clouds around the Kaugs¡¯ base looked no calmer than they had the day before. Now that we were inching closer, though, the full array of colors they held was getting clearer. Most of it did look like ordinary clouds, but at the outermost border of all that seemed to be the deep sea. And I mean sand as well as water, swishing tails, jets of muted green and yellow, and those rare coral explosions. All dressed up in puffy silk gowns. We also got the opportunity to see a strange exchange of clouds. More than once, clouds descended from the sky and slid down into the Kaugs¡¯ cauldron. Clouds from the cauldron likewise joined the sky, scooting off toward the swamp we¡¯d just been through. Many cows and bulls were out grazing, each one standing off on their own. Occasionally they groaned or mooed to each other. I was unprepared for how loud¡ªbut docile¡ªtheir calls could be. After we ate some of the beef rations and swigged some of our water, Reed asked, ¡°Do you have any morning exercises?¡± Uh? Well, I knew Chora had a bunch, but aside from some simple stretching in the morning and playing throughout the day, most animals didn¡¯t have what you¡¯d call exercise routines, so¡­I shook my head. She looked disappointed. ¡°Oh¡­ I¡¯ll just make this quick.¡± A minute later, she had un-compacted a whole entire home gym set and was bench-pressing for her life. Even before the sun had risen, she was sweating rain. ¡°Nnnnnyeuuurgh!¡± I watched her steadily, even though she¡¯d told me that I could go off and do ¡°something more exciting.¡± ¡°Haaaaaurgh!!¡± She lifted it for the fifth and most excruciating time. I would¡¯ve expected her body to end up shivering¡ªnot from temperature, of course, but from sheer strain and exertion¡ªbut besides her arms, every part of her was locked in place. Discipline! She suddenly sat upright and flung the weight onto the ground two meters away, where it clanked and pulverized the ring of rocks. ¡°Yay!¡± Reed said with a sad, sweaty smile. ¡°I made it, although I might¡¯ve lost some HP in the process, heh heh¡­¡± She frowned. ¡°Ha¡­¡± Don¡¯t worry, Reed! We¡¯re so close to the mountains now, and the bigger threats seem to be avoiding us. I walked over and jumped onto the bench, beside her leg. I offered my back: rubbies. She was hesitant. ¡°But my hands are so sweaty.¡± I only stretched more. Cringingly, she rubbed my back. She was right. It did feel gross. And yet I didn¡¯t regret it one bit. Partly because the sun, with its evaporative powers, was beginning to heat up. In fact, I predicted that today would become the hottest, sunniest day I¡¯d lived through in these woods to date. Well, it would right before becoming the coldest one once we entered the Kaugs, so, uh, hopefully I wouldn¡¯t catch a fever. Soon Reed gathered up the debris of the campsite and the workout. The dying fire puffed itself out for good and the fuel self-condensed. Reed kicked at the flattened grass, looking a bit ashamed¡ªmaybe remembering dmAge¡¯s crew and the way they trampled and scattered. We weren¡¯t that different, but, um, we were cooler. I dunno, I¡¯m a glorified cat. Your ¡°morally gray¡± is my ¡°meow¡± as I do something else that¡¯s less complicated and more related to my immediate existence and happiness. Just kidding, I was sickened by my own loose morals more and more every day! ¡­Just kidding again, but the very fact I could joke about that by now was pretty telling. Anywho, we¡¯d find out more about what DeGalle was really all about when we bumped into her crew in a few hours. We continued our trek down the beaten path. It was easier than ever to observe how the smaller animals tended to consciously stay out of a human¡¯s way. Rats who¡¯d gathered in the middle of the road around a dead squirrel would scatter, and strolling doves flapped away. The only one that didn¡¯t rush off after the first glance was a tortoise, and probably because that was impossible. ¡°Wow,¡± Reed said softly as our walk brought us closer. ¡°Can you see those lines of red and blue on their back? Such a nice pattern.¡± Ah, now the tortoise was running off. Sort of. With a big, waddling turn, they turned decidedly toward the tall grass. ¡°Uh¡­¡± Reed coughed uncomfortably. ¡°This may sound uninformed, like a rich girl saying she wants to be ¡®one of the peasants,¡¯ but sometimes I just want to walk around without any of the baggage that humans still take with them everywhere. Like any other animal. Or even like a spirit, to be honest.¡± My response was surprisingly coherent. (And impossible to share right now.) It wasn¡¯t possible to walk around without bringing along baggage, no matter the creatures you¡¯d encounter, no matter your species. Even I, a cat in a world where there seemed to be about five cats at most, and all dead or kept as pets by werewolves, was perceived some kind of way. Small animals perceived me as a threat or a competitor. The ones who ignored me weren¡¯t really ignoring me, not the way Reed wanted. It was conscious ignorance for a toothless threat, treating me with disdain. To get what Reed was after, you¡¯d have to be totally unobserved. A spirit with no form or substance or magic aura. A camera without any physical casing. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you know¡ªwhat am I saying, you have to know¡ªthat now and then throughout history, humans have done so much damage to the natural world that¡­whole habitats were basically razed. We try to guard against it. But we¡¯re not that good at it. Other animals have trouble trusting us.¡± True, and true enough of the humans I¡¯d known on Earth. But until very recently, no other animal had trusted me either. And I was inclined to think that the individual acts made by individual creatures¡ªrather than a wave-motion welcome by the whole of the animal kingdom¡ªwas not only the best that Reed and me both could expect, but much more valuable, somehow, and precious. Thank you boosted Intelligence and Wisdom. Oh, and speaking of this from a more practical standpoint, Reed and I still kinda smelled like blood. Her sword and stained pants still looked like blood. Bull meat smells don¡¯t just come out of your skin and fur after a good night¡¯s rest, and while Reed had changed her shirt at some point after dressing that bull, she¡¯d seemingly changed nothing else. Being a cat, I was, aside from habitually licking myself, ¡°a total slob¡± in human terms. So all this didn¡¯t bother me. Nor did it bother the animals around us, really. Which seemed weird, looking back? I mean, wolves had to be on their way¡­we heard a howl last night¡­ Evidently, Reed had the same idea. Minutes after her last musings, she said, ¡°Hmm. If wild dogs aren¡¯t on our trail, I¡¯d be extremely surprised.¡± ¡°Meow.¡± ¡°But we¡¯re ready for them, right?¡± ¡°Meow!¡± ¡°And we have more than enough Spells on us t¡ª¡± I literally stopped in my tracks, because maybe we didn¡¯t. At least, maybe I didn¡¯t.
Inventory: 5/5 Chora¡¯s Crystal Ring Debug Blade Fire Spell x3 Minor Heal x4 Attack Up x3
Alright, this wasn¡¯t bad. Especially the Minor Heals. But by the tone of Reed¡¯s voice, she was somewhat more worried. ¡°That¡¯s okay!¡± Reed said hastily, starting to power-walk ahead. ¡°We¡¯ll make this quick enough that we won¡¯t need that many!¡± No! No way! I wasn¡¯t going to tiptoe into the Kaugs just long enough to grab poledust! Not only was there DeGalle¡¯s crew to meet, but there was Treasure to be had! And clearly this one was more important than any my System had detected so far, since it¡¯d been on the Map for so long! I stopped in place right there on the path, then shook my head with a fury! ¡°M-mrao-o-ow!¡± I grumbled. ¡°No?¡± Reed frowned. ¡°No to what?¡± I kept grumbling as I darted forward and back. Then I lowered my voice to a purr as I made the same circuit, only at a quarter of the speed. ¡°You want us to go slowly?¡± I nodded. She nodded back. ¡°Alright. We can¡­manage that.¡± Problem solved¡­ish? I galloped up to Reed and together we kept walking. Right until the group of grazing bovines coming up on our left side froze mid-chew. I was very adept at reading this kind of sign, Reed less so. But the moment she noticed me freezing this time, she followed suit. We kept our eyes locked on the small herd, wondering what they would do. Answer: they closed ranks. The cattle shuffled closer together, making sure that the skinniest among them¡ªprobably old or sick¡ªwere caught in the middle. Then they stood their ground, keeping their eyes turned toward the deeper grassland. As Reed and I did too. Now we could all hear them. Distinct shuffling sounds in the grass. Ever so quiet, but suddenly ever so plain. We heard a telltale pant. Reed¡¯s words echoed in my mind: ¡°This time, we¡¯ll be ready!¡± Now or never, baby! Four pointy gray heads poked out of the grass. Oh, come on, four of them? Heck no, we couldn¡¯t fight that. They came springing out of the green, straight for the bulls. Four young, short wolves, with darkness around their eyes and odd tails that streaked behind them like striped flags¡ªokay wait, these were raccoons. About fourteen more followed right behind them. Within a moment, raccoons had swarmed the cattle¡¯s feet and hides, and were swarming so ferociously that the bulls not only backed off, but did so at full speed while baying to the heavens. Their formation shattered as they ran off panicked. Yeah, we couldn¡¯t fight these either, but it seemed like we were far enough away that they had no interest inoh my gosh, they WERE coming after us! ¡°Aah!¡± Reed cried, taking off. ¡°Maah!¡± I cried, taking off. We heard a snarl, all too close. A raccoon was hanging off the bloodstreaked edge of Reed¡¯s sword! Their body was flopping in the air, but their teeth were practically stapling their body to the weapon! ¡°Aah!¡± Reed cried, shaking the raccoon around. ¡°Heeeeegh!¡± they hissed. ¡°Guh!¡± With a smack of her sword against the ground, Reed banged off the raccoon. On the verge of weeping, she moaned, ¡°Why do they hate me? Why do they hate me?!¡± I dunno, Reed. Raccoons are just that way sometimes. 75. Trek to the Snow Reed and I didn¡¯t get much of a chance to observe the full majesty of the mountain landscape. Over the course of our journey into the Kaugs, the grasslands changed so dramatically at our feet. It almost didn¡¯t register in our minds that the boulders had gotten not only more numerous, but more immense, at once darker and more glittery, and, more than anything, more¡­pointy. Nonessentials don¡¯t really register when you¡¯re running for your life, for fifteen unchecked minutes, away from a pack of raccoons that act more like swarming, starving piranhas. ¡°That was awful,¡± Reed said between pants, wiping her forehead. She was drenched. I would¡¯ve felt superior for my lack of clothes-soaking sweat glands, only I was positively overheated. Well, at least we could look forward to a refreshing dose of mystery mist once we stepped forward into the clouds. That sounded more ominous than intended.
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 33% (10/30)
Suddenly when we looked back, all we saw were those foggy boulders stabbing up from the ground, growing progressively taller and¡­more like pencils. Technically we could see the path, too, and the grass, and if Reed craned her neck I was sure she could see the blood-specked place where that clamping raccoon cracked its back¡ªb-but you know what I mean. Majesty. And all this majesty had seemingly snuck up on us. We were between those rocks and even bigger rocks, with clouds attached, and now that we were this close, we could feel the air getting a notch cooler, a notch wetter. We could also see that angry, hurricane-like churning. No longer could this stuff be described at all like cotton candy. These were bullet-speed spiderwebs of mist scraping and screaming across a canvas, ever-changing, of innumerable colors. Aurora in a form like molten fabric. Didn¡¯t look like the best thing to step into, but Reed traipsed on in without a single word of caution. Her eagerness was a good sign in my book. I hopped in after her. The atmospheric change was instant and total. We went from a hot day on the savannah to a cool steam bath made bitterly chill by the strong winds. The clouds weren¡¯t just mist once you got inside, they were spray, straight out of the end of a waterfall, splashing sideways into your face. It was all incredibly refreshing. After the first minute, that is, which I spent hissing in strangeness and discomfort. Visually, the mist was impenetrable¡­at first. It wasn¡¯t just a billowy curtain¡ªit was cloud cover, and it really did cover everything once you were inside. It swathed the bases of rocks in its multicolored soup, making the air thick, humid, and windy as heck. The strangest part, though, was the micro-climate it fostered. In here there were different types of grasses, low, sparse, and mystifyingly gray-green. There was snow. It coated the ground in a thin layer that was just substantial enough to feel chunky. I also spent that first minute tiptoeing around so frantically in search of un-snowy ground that I looked like I was dancing. Angrily dancing. ¡°I was wondering how you¡¯d feel about this part,¡± Reed said, slowing down and watching me with deep curiosity. She¡¯d put on an aviator jacket. ¡°Feeling not good? Good?¡± I was undecided. ¡°Mreaow¡­¡± ¡°Not all the Kaugs are this windy and snowy, though. Would you like to lead the way?¡± I looked up at her with surprise. She didn¡¯t know where to go from here? And she wasn¡¯t just eager to stop at the nearest big mountain? But it was also a look of relief. Now I could go after the Quest Item without hesitation.
Current Location: ??? (S.A5)
I pulled up a close-up of this Map square. Just in case it would show me some cool streams or specific mountains. Or something. But zooming was no help. Well, maybe things¡¯d be different when I got closer to the Treasure? It was still a ways off, near the western edge. And it didn¡¯t help matters that I still couldn¡¯t pin down whether it was in a cave or on a peak, or buried under a random hunk of ground. Or in the hands of a camera crew. Speaking of DeGalle dmAge, there were some clear footprints in the snow. But there were also places where other animals had come through and added their own, which layered on top of human heelprints. Plus, there were kicked-up snow piles and patches scraped away. The road we¡¯d been taking was practically over. Even if it remained underneath the snow, it was no longer useful to us. So, after I calmed down and adjusted to the cooler temperature, I let myself meander. Reed followed all too patiently¡­or maybe she herself had never explored this place in too much detail. There were so many crannies between rocks and steep mountains where the snow settled in dense valleys, veining up along the sides of the rocks. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. I gazed down a particularly deep one. Then I took a few steps back and, about to jump, preparatorily wriggled. ¡°If I may,¡± Reed said, ¡°I-I like playing as much as the next person, but it might be dangerous to expend too much energy.¡± Yeah, I saw her point. I wasn¡¯t gonna Leap into this valley, though. I was only going to jump. ¡°Ah, here¡¯s a better warning¡ªthere¡¯s typically a bunch of worms threaded through the snow valleys, when they get that deep.¡± ¡­Noted¡­ But it looked so beautiful. The sunbeams, pouring down one moment and covered by shade or too-dense cloud the next, stood out magnificently against the dark backgrounds of both the white snow and the mini-mountains. It moved as mesmerizingly as a lava lamp. Soon I found my first body of water. It was a tiny pool, a very very micro version of the kind of watering hole I¡¯d have found further northwest. It was being slurped by a bluebird who¡¯d apparently decided to exploit it to the fullest. Once the bluebird flew off, Reed and I inspected the water together. She squatted while I nearly dunked my head in. I looked up at Reed, saying with my eyes, Is it okay to really dunk my head in, or would you hold back a chuckle and then tell Bayce and then Bayce would laugh at me? ¡°Do you have any clue how deep this hole goes?¡± She put a finger to her cheek. ¡°I¡¯m a bit confused about it¡­¡± It was profoundly dark water, greenish-black. Immediately around it, there were sprigs of grass and slathered snow. But no big, sudden explosion of vegetation. If the wind would stop blowing, we would¡¯ve been able to judge whether there were fish way down inside, camouflaged but making the slightest ripples in the water. Exploiting my deduction skills the way a bluebird exploited a tiny freshwater spring, I determined that this¡­was a tiny freshwater spring. Meaning the water had sprung up fairly recently from a source deep underground! Therefore, it was highly improbable that it contained fish¡ªat least, not normal Earth-y fish, because maybe a sea gnome or whatever could¡¯ve magically appeared there!! My eyes glimmered with pride. I told Reed, ¡°Meow.¡± She smiled! Then she frowned, because she¡¯d asked a yes-no question when what she¡¯d truly wanted was a what-how. She began awkwardly playing Twenty Questions. ¡°Do you think it came from a river?¡± I shook my head. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s¡­a spring?¡± Nod nod. ¡°So it probably doesn¡¯t have fish in it, huh.¡± I shrugged my shoulders, which might¡¯ve just looked like a random stretch. ¡°Let¡¯s try to drink it!¡± My eyes widened. Reaching in with cupped hands, she took a mouth¡¯s worth of water. The color was almost clear. She sipped it up as I lapped it out of the spring. Delicious! Even better than the well and pump water. I looked over to watch Reed relish the taste. Then immediately convulse in a shiver, swat her hands across her pants like matches on a matchbox, rub them together, and jam them in her pockets. Served her right for not getting me a matching cat-coat. ¡°As you¡¯ve noticed, there¡¯s no snow on the mountaintops,¡± Reed said, ¡°aside from those lines stretching up onto them from the ground. That¡¯s because the Kaugs don¡¯t get most of their snow from the sky. Rain only turns into snow when it hits the ground, and then it¡­just doesn¡¯t melt all the way, especially not in those hollows.¡± ¡°Meow?¡± ¡°I mean the bowl-looking, valley-looking places with the worms.¡± ¡°Mweow.¡± I decided it was best to get a move on. We were approaching lunchtime, but we hadn¡¯t quite hit it yet, and Reed looked as game for more adventuring as I was. We headed for a cluster of mini-mountains packed so closely together that climbing through was like maneuvering through a maze. Bushes and young pine trees clung to the sides, waving in sudden blasts of frosty wind. I hadn¡¯t chosen this route for any real reason, besides that it seemed fun. I did have to stand and wait for Reed to wriggle through a tight space now and then, though. Once I even transformed to help pull her through and, falling together, we almost crashed into a bush. At the end of that shadowy maze, we came across our first river. The twisting band of black water rose and fell in the gentle hills and dips between mini-mountains. Even from a distance, we could see the backs of red and lime-green fish glinting through the calm surface. Rabbits were grazing along the green bank, their coats as snow-white as the land just behind them. I wasn¡¯t in a mood to fight nearly as much as a mood to journey. But I did hop after the closest rabbit, streaking across a shallow bend in the pond. The rabbit took off, and I barely nicked their foot¡­but if I¡¯d been really trying, I was certain I could¡¯ve done better. ¡°Good job!¡± Reed said with a bit of applause. U-uh¡­ I felt weird about having an outside party compliment me on random hunting stuff. Strutting and performing, that was one thing, but I¡¯d just bounded toward that rabbit for bounding¡¯s own sake. Were Reed and I both modest now? Though I wouldn¡¯t call it ¡°modesty¡± so much as ¡°not being used to the constant eyes of other people-ness¡±¡­ Nonetheless, I strode back across the river, shook off some of the water on my legs, and rubbed Reed¡¯s shin in brief thanks. According to the Map, we were getting closer and closer to the mountains¡¯ heart. Handier than the Map, though, were my senses. Smell: the fact that I could barely, just barely, smell some hints of recent human activity in the paths less covered by snow. Sight: my wandering gaze in search of footprints and dropped debris. Most of all, hearing: the hints of shouts I kept hearing over the bends. A particularly loud cry and a bit of a rumble reached us now. ¡°Woah,¡± Reed said, wobbling a little. ¡°That¡¯s got to be humans¡­¡± For a few moments, I looked with her toward the source¡ªinvisible behind a curtain of small, frosty mountains. But then I looked back at the pond, figuring, Whatever. Y¡¯know what, I wouldn¡¯t mind catching a couple of fish before we even consider approaching that curtain. I am carnivorous, after all. And these fish look really beautiful. I moseyed on up to the water¡¯s edge again and watched the surface. ¡°Cat friend, I¡­like the way you stay focused on life¡¯s pleasures,¡± Reed said, giving the jankiest compliment I had yet received. Seeing fish was one of life¡¯s pleasures. But so was nabbing them. Swipe. My claws thrashed the waters apart, catching a sparkling tuna with precision. It¡¯d been caught in the central point of my vision, just as it¡¯d been passing in front of my chest, my nose. Perfect alignment. Harmonic convergence. That tuna shone like young turquoise. I bit its head off right then and there.
Victory!
EXP: 11% (327/2850)
Reed marveled at the catch I was eating from across the pond, but, tactfully, she didn¡¯t say anything. When it became clear that I wouldn¡¯t stop eating until the bones were licked clean, she got out her own baggie of snacking granola. In a way, maybe we were trying to build strength before our confrontation with dmAge¡¯s crew soon¡­ ¡­but for now, it was just me allowing myself to revel in my powers. I caught four more fish at that brook¡ªtwo more tuna, a snapper, and a long, slippery crimson fish¡ªbut none of these had been a challenge. And the last four fish, I wrestled and then let go.
EXP: 46% (1320/2850)
Level-Up or no Level-Up, and thankful for the chance to see how far I¡¯d come, I decided to go out and see new things! And/or people! 76. The Blocky Hands of Destiny One sliver of the Kaugs had practically been terraformed into a research base. Just beyond this section¡¯s borders, everything was twinkling and rabbits, the rocks touched by few tools deeper than the scoring claws of a high-Leveled weasel. But inside, things were busy and just a little festive. Somewhere between one and two hundred people were there, all in separate cliques doing their separate activities. Some ate, some chattered, some photographed. And several were boring into the rock¡ªin one case, about to blow up what looked like a stick of dynamite to destroy it. Reed and I surveyed the scene from behind a snow-buried rock. I heard snippets of conversation not more than twenty Reed-bootprints away from us, yet the part that stuck out to my ear was what seemed to be a faint chorus of tiny electric-powered drills, with voices all along the mountain edges. This valley belonged to DeGalle dmAge! Ah, and there were guards on the perimeter. Just noticed that. You could tell they were guards by the padded vests over their coats, and the odd weapons they had on them: crossbows at the hip, maces and javelins in their hands. ¡°Camera or¡­no camera?¡± Reed whispered. Her fingers were fiddling with the wonderful box. In the end, she caved. ¡°Ah, the shutter¡¯s not that loud. They won¡¯t hear it. And if they don¡¯t see us, they won¡¯t catch this either.¡± Cautiously she poked her hands out, and¡­click. Then, like her hands were vipers, she yanked her arms back behind the rock. The photo soon slid out. The sunlight playing off the mist looked beautiful in real life, but on a cheap sepia-toned camera, it washed everything out. But still! I could see Bayce appreciating it. ¡°Meow,¡± I whispered. Wow, I had not been aware that cats could meow-whisper until that moment. With a stifled giggle, she pocketed it. ¡°Alright, enough of that. Time for the part I don¡¯t like¡­¡± We both took another look at the guards. Now I noticed another new detail: a sign was standing near them. Near their shins¡ªit was a tiny little sign. And when Reed squinted, she could see that it read¡­ ¡°DeGalle work zone, unauthorized parties keep out.¡± She went ¡°pfft.¡± ¡°I¡¯m honestly getting angry just looking at it. If I left now, I¡¯d be kicking myself for not doing something about it.¡± But doing what about it? I thought, looking imploringly up at Reed, wondering what would actually work. Giving them a stern talking-to? Sadly, that was exactly what she did. She went up to the guards with her voice in a shout. With an anger I had never heard from her before, she cried, ¡°What is this sign, huh?! Who¡¯s supposed to read that?!¡± At first, the guards just gave her a look. A pointed, possibly dangerous look. She may have been strong, but whether she could take them all on¡ªeven with my help¡ªwas beyond questionable. But then I saw the guards¡¯ eyes doing something peculiar. They glazed over. A few seconds after their eyes unfocused, Reed noticed. ¡°Even a fence would¡¯ve¡ªoh, I see, it must be ¡®just DeGalle¡¯s orders¡¯ and ¡®nothing us guards can do about it.¡¯¡± ¡°Ma¡¯am, honestly we¡¯d let most visitors in if they asked.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not the point! It¡¯s not just about today, or getting in or whatever, it¡¯s about the random havoc you wreak and keep wreaking! When¡¯s it gonna stop¡ªjust never, until DeGalle dies?!¡± I was worried for her. Also, I was¡­a little baffled by her indignance here. Whatever big-picture social issues were weighing on her, they just weren¡¯t familiar to me, outside of what little I¡¯d been told about Rare Hunters like DeGalle and their unsuccessful heroics. But more than that, I didn¡¯t want any of these guards to be able to get a hit in. Or even think that they could. ¡°And you took over this place¡ªit¡¯s overrun¡ªwithout telling anybody? You think that¡¯s okay too?!¡± ¡°Ma¡¯am, unless you own this land¡ª¡± ¡°I told you, it¡¯s not about ¡®owning¡¯ any¡ª¡± She stopped herself. Not only had the crowd in the valley lost half its volume¡­there was also a new character among the guards. This had to be DeGalle dmAge. Her hair and outfit, while not well suited to chilly weather, was bizarre and complicated. In fact, I¡¯m not sure Earth has any equivalents, so this will either be hard for readers to interpret or weird enough that you won¡¯t believe it¡¯s real on any planet. I¡¯ll just try my best here. So starting from the top, she had a sky-high swooping ponytail, brown until the tips ended in distinct trails of green, blue, red, and hot pink. Two tendrils of this hair snaked around her ears and back behind her, extending into¡­wings? A cape? Two tails of a scarf? Two non-functioning hands? Well, they swooped down into something, and moved more like fabric than hair when a breeze came by. These cape-tendrils were also neon at the tips. A bit of a sneer seemed frozen on her face, but pointy shades hid her eyes. Instead of a shirt, she wore a flame-patterned chest-bob holder with a gigantic zipper in the middle. That zipper had to be securing about three zipper-teeth. Low-rise jeans were stacked with five chunky belts, and the cuffs of them were edged with more metal teeth. Around either fist was a gauntlet made of some kind of color-changing steel. The hues went from deepest black to indigo, and they seemed to hold stars. Watching them was like gazing into a video feed of a distant planet with a very dim sun. Each gauntlet cuff likewise had a huge zipper on it. Did they zip directly to her skin? Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. I wish I hadn¡¯t just asked that! Upon reaching us, she lifted the shades and revealed stern eyes topped by gorgeous eyelash-clumps. I¡¯d expected her face to either be totally lackadaisical or eternally furious, but she didn¡¯t hit either extreme. She hit a different one: cool yet world-weary, eyebrows not furrowed but heavy. ¡°You remind me of me as a youngster,¡± she said, ¡°same spirit.¡± Reed blinked up at her. ¡°¡­¡¯Youngster¡¯?¡± ¡°You understand the harsh welcome. My investors ask for a certain level of security. That¡¯s business,¡± DeGalle huffed. Then she held a gauntlet out, for Reed to shake. I knew Reed was fighting down a wince as she accepted it. And they shook on it. Hm? This was getting strange, too strange for me to keep hanging back. I slowly made my way out of hiding, unnoticed at first except by watchful, quiet guards. ¡°You¡¯re DeGalle,¡± Reed said, so caught-off-guard she seemed dazed. DeGalle didn¡¯t respond directly. She only said, ¡°You¡¯ve got attitude. Good.¡± Reed squinted. ¡°What¡¯d you come here for? Autograph?¡± She kneeled and scooped up a photograph that¡¯d fallen to the snow. It had to be the one Reed had just taken of the campsite. Reed blushed instantly¡ªan insulted blush. DeGalle raised her voice and said, ¡°Guards, get my pen.¡± ¡°No! Not at all!¡± Reed cried, panicky. Before she could say more, she stopped herself. I figured she was realizing she could ask for something from a celebrity¡­and that meant she could practically ask for anything. ¡°I-I¡¯m¡­here to observe your research facility¡­under my authority as a resident and guardian of the forest.¡± ¡°How about that,¡± snapped DeGalle, making Reed tense up. Now that I was practically at Reed¡¯s shin, I noticed she was gnawing on a toothpick. No wonder she kept gritting her teeth. ¡°I suppose you¡¯d just love a tour of the whole darn camp, now, wouldn¡¯t you? You¡¯d like that?¡± Reed stomped her foot. ¡°I would!¡± DeGalle leaned forward into her face. ¡°You would, now?¡± ¡°I said I would!¡± Just when I thought DeGalle was going to reach over and slap her, and I was going to have to Leap in and bite someone, she laughed, in her face, with a huge booming hyena-cackle loud enough to shake an avalanche free. The guards didn¡¯t seem so surprised. Reed did. She nearly fell backward from the force of it. ¡°C¡¯mon,¡± DeGalle said at normal volume, striding around and past her. Evidently, she was indeed going to take her on a tour of the camp. Reed just stared into the middle distance. I nuzzled her shin, and it startled her upright. ¡°Agh! Uh. Hello! What was that?¡± ¡°Mraow,¡± I said ambiguously. Truth be told, I didn¡¯t know either¡ªI definitely didn¡¯t have a good read on DeGalle yet, other than, yeah, she was very cocky. In my mind, you didn¡¯t taunt and test someone like that unless you were supremely sure you could beat them in a fight. I looked around, then thrust a paw forward. May as well follow. Reed followed her, and I followed Reed. And people¡¯s eyes started to fall on my back. It seemed everyone had slowed down or frozen once the commotion started, but now they were tentatively moving and chatting again. Still, they gave me weird looks and talked openly about me, what kind of spirit or monster I could be. Reed¡¯s body language seemed just as nervous about it¡ªand about, um¡­everything¡ªas I was. And yet I didn¡¯t think it¡¯d help any to Morph, only to have to Morph back about a minute later. We began to weave through picnic tables and a big communal stew, its steam merging with a thin mist above. DeGalle, still leading us, hadn¡¯t looked back at me yet. Did she know I existed yet? Nah, she just moved on to a topic closer to her own heart. ¡°This is shaping up to be ground zero of my biggest mission to date.¡± ¡°¡­You want me to ask what kind of mission, don¡¯t you?¡± Reed said. ¡°You must think you¡¯re sharp, kid.¡± Then DeGalle was silent. ¡°¡­Okay, what kind of mission.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a secret.¡± Reed sighed aloud. ¡°Just kidding. Hardly any of it¡¯s classified, take a look.¡± DeGalle stopped walking and turned on her heel. Here, at the end of the lunch zone, was a long table saddled with all sorts of equipment that, in my mind, fit the description of mad scientist lab stuff. Interspersed with all the tubes were what appeared to be jewels in little jewelry cases, except instead of resting on pillows, they were sitting on the grainy mulch they probably came from. Like Earth diamonds, but honest. I jumped onto a chair to get a closer look, nearly pressing my nose up to the glass of one jewel. This time DeGalle had to see me, but again she had no comment. Which bothered me! She really was a jerk, just a different style of jerk than the one I¡¯d assumed! ¡°Check it out,¡± DeGalle said. ¡°Magic stones. Cool, huh?¡± Reed leaned in for a closer look. Seven stones, sitting around. As I gazed into the jewels with her, I realized that¡­I could take one of these! It didn¡¯t even have to be a useless petty crime¡ªwith my Inventory, I could actually get useful info about what DeGalle had called nothing but ¡°magic stones.¡± Plus, if I forced them into the Meat Locker somehow, I could maybe learn some other cool facts! Like at what temperature they tasted best. Okay, maybe this had diminishing returns. Ugh, if only I knew how to share this idea with Reed. Plus, while it was alright for me, a random wild animal, to be a criminal, what if I made Reed a criminal by proxy? That¡¯d be awful! But a second later, I was surprised by Reed¡¯s reaction to the jewels. Leering up at the tall DeGalle, she said, ¡°They don¡¯t look like magic. Nor do they feel like it.¡± ¡°That¡¯s because they¡¯re in cages, smartie. Trust me, if I opened any of them, you¡¯d be scared half to death.¡± Then, summoning up big gestures and a movie trailer voice, she coughed, took a step back, and regaled us: ¡°Relative peace has reigned over this wood for thousands of years. Its local spirits have slumbered, and the few who appear or awaken have been friendly to mortals. Even war was not enough to destroy it for good or change its fundamental character. ¡°But that all changed, and it happened¡±¡ªher tone made it an accusation¡ª¡°right under our noses. ¡°See, up north in these same woods, not far from the great Clantisere Pond and its glittering waters, there¡¯s a place where time begins to slow. A pocket of stifled air. A place where this summer never came. ¡°And it¡¯s because¡­¡± She picked up a case. ¡°Of these rocks.¡± Oh. Yeah. Duh. Of course the suspicious deadly time-dilating thing that I¡¯d been unable to tell anyone about (and too distracted by everything else to) was a prime candidate for DeGalle¡¯s hunt. But¡­then again, when I¡¯d first encountered the rocks, I¡¯d assumed they were a normal feature of Vencia. Weren¡¯t they only in one spot, though? One tiny singular plot of land, and one little hole, and terrorizing a couple of squirrels at most? Well, if it was such a big deal that DeGalle had to investigate, I guessed it had to be far bigger than that. And even if it was going to turn out small, any blight on the forest would be, well, a blight. It made sense that it¡¯d be best removed.
Quest: Solve a Mystery¡ªThe Rust-Colored Stones
Progress: 50%
I looked up to get a glimpse of Reed¡¯s face. Mostly I saw her chin, but a perplexed chin. She was intrigued, and so was I. DeGalle¡¯s speech took a sharp left. A sharp one, but a logical one. ¡°How easily could this be weaponized? Very. How many people are dying to exploit this kind of power¡ªthe ability to guide and stifle time itself? How many humans, and¡ªtell me this¡ªhow many spirits?¡± Her final words crawled through my bloodstream. So DeGalle was trying to stop an insidious crisis of potentially global proportions. And now that she¡¯d put it that way, I had no clue why the rest of this planet didn¡¯t agree with her. 77. Time Bombs During a brief tour of the whole research camp, DeGalle explained the whole affair as she saw it. Some entity¡ªunknown but presumed dangerous¡ªhad created these magic, time-slowing stones. They were already harming wildlife and had the potential to cause harm on a nigh-unimaginable scale. (Someone frozen in time is effectively dead. A heart can be time-frozen without the body.) ¡°Now, you don¡¯t reveal that kind of information willy-nilly,¡± DeGalle said, waggling a finger backward at Reed. ¡°Doing that before we know what¡¯s going on would risk a mass panic.¡± Man, every time something else came out of DeGalle¡¯s mouth, Reed screwed up her face like she wanted to argue back¡­but she never did. She just hadn¡¯t found an opening. Other than the obvious openings related to DeGalle being rude, but that was Vencian common knowledge. But this time, she found a way. ¡°You¡­you usually never learn what¡¯s going on¡ª¡± ¡°My successes count more than my failures,¡± DeGalle blurted. ¡°Geez, how many times do I have to tell you people¡ªMY SUCCESSES COUNT MORE THAN MY FAILURES!¡± The shout shook the whole camp. It was followed by scattered applause and whoops from the rest of the camp. ¡°B-but that¡¯s, what, only three successes?!¡± ¡°Four!¡± shouted some dude. ¡°And I can name them all by heart,¡± DeGalle huffed. ¡°I do nothing about anything and the alternative might be mass death.¡± Reed kneeled next to me and whispered, ¡°It always is to her.¡± But DeGalle continued. They weren¡¯t just pointlessly destroying the environment here in the Kaugs¡ªthey were pulling out rock samples, testing to see if they carried any trace of magic. At a glance, the people working on the samples looked pretty reckless. Their gear looked like souped-up high-octane hundred-piece-set versions of the poledust-drilling kit Bayce had given us, with chrome so shiny it sent glare into my face from a distance. As for the mountains, they were becoming Swiss cheese. Right now I could see what appeared to be the highest of all the Kaugs at the camp¡¯s far edge, and scanning it up and down, my mind was on anything but its mountainous majesty. Dozens and dozens of pinprick holes studded the thing, rising higher and higher until they broke the misty cloud cover and disappeared from view. I knew the sight had to devastate Reed. But¡­am I weird for saying I didn¡¯t care much about it? Maybe it was just because I didn¡¯t have a long view of history like humans, and because I hadn¡¯t grown up in the Vencian Wood¡ªI was a glorified tourist, so it wasn¡¯t like I¡¯d been attached to these mountains besides seeing them as a cool curiosity. Or, on the contrary, maybe I felt this impassive because I¡¯d seen too much. My past life had been spent on the streets of a city. I had lived and died in smog. Maybe drilling holes in a mountain would harm a few worms, and change a few publicity photos, but¡­yeah. It was not mass death. Reed and I paused our walking tour to get two different angles on a rock driller closer to us. Using a very thin handheld drill that made a shrill, dental whine, they traced a circle in the rock. Then a portion of rock shaped like a box popped out in their hand. It was as luminous and dazzling as a rainbow-patterned oil slick. ¡°Alright,¡± Reed said bashfully, ¡°I¡¯m starting to get less polarizing questions. I hope you wouldn¡¯t mind answering them?¡± ¡°Young lady, I wish you hadn¡¯t¡¯ve said that. I live for polarizing questions.¡± ¡°¡­Alright, but¡ª¡± ¡°Shoot.¡± Reed shook off her nerves. ¡°Why would drilling over here give you answers about¡­you know¡­the other places in the woods where you found the time stones?¡± ¡°A good question from the totally untutored. You live here?¡± Reed glared at her. ¡°Not relevant?¡± ¡°Well, you should know that the Kaugs are made of highly reactive magical material. The most reactive material, in fact, of all these woods. The durn things pick up odd currents of energy like the magnets they kind of sort of are.¡± DeGalle pressed a gauntlet against a Kaug and casually leaned. I feared the rock face might break open. ¡°More importantly, though, the magic leaves aftereffects.¡± ¡°Yes, I know all of that,¡± Reed said with a strategic eye roll, ¡°but I don¡¯t see why you¡¯d have to take chunks out of the mountain just to do that. At this point, don¡¯t we have devices that can record magical residue perfectly fine?¡± ¡°Of course¡­¡± DeGalle gnawed on her toothpick. ¡°But that way you can¡¯t photograph it.¡± Reed let out a heavy sigh. ¡°Alright, fine. I have to admit, you are beginning to win me over. Despite your evil soul.¡± ¡°Only as evil as I need to be for investors to bite.¡± ¡°¡­Right.¡± She looked away. ¡°And it was very kind of you to invite us in, and clear up all these ambiguities. Us both, as in, me and the person right next to me, my good friend who¡¯s been with us all along.¡± Oh yeah! I truly had been there the whole time, next to Reed¡¯s foot, and had received not one direct glance from DeGalle. But it¡¯d stopped fazing me. By now I had a good grip on her character. She just liked to get people¡¯s goats. Lots of people were like that. ¡°Would you do one last favor for me?¡± Reed said, yanking on the last major affront DeGalle had made, ¡°and acknowledge my dear friend?¡± DeGalle smirked for the briefest moment. ¡°God, of course not. I hate cats. I¡¯ve had bad run-ins with cats. I¡¯d¡¯ve had yours killed if she¡¯d been alone. Just nasty, hopeless creatures.¡± U-um?! At the word ¡°cats,¡± I froze, and every human in the campsite who¡¯d been listening in either gasped, hushed, or broke out clubs and maces because they were armed guards. The same wonder that¡¯d washed over Reed when she first found out¡ªnow over them. But DeGalle went on talking without interruption. ¡°If you¡¯ve ever read my fifth published adventure DeGalle dmAge in the Land of Canines and Felines, you would know that there are some very powerful and very testy cat spirits out there. Cats are without conscience, and the one you¡¯ve got is probably only bound to you because you give it food.¡± With every word she added, my shoulders stiffened and went up higher, my tail rose in alarm, and I started daggers even more¡­daggerly at her. What was I feeling? Not as much fright or fury as you might imagine. I was a little scared, sure, but mostly I was putting on a show. Just like she¡¯d put on a show. Somehow I wanted to look like the devil she thought I was. Besides, she wouldn¡¯t be the first human to unilaterally hate cats¡­and it was about time I met one of those fabled types in what had, up to this point, been a fairly friendly fantasy world. Reed was indignant, of course. But before she could put in a verbal jab, DeGalle continued. ¡°Alright, alright, we¡¯re all hangry now, I understand,¡± she said in her most pedantic voice. ¡°See, this is why I invited you to lunch. And while we¡¯re digging in, we can take in a one-of-a-kind panoramic view of durn near the whole durn forest. Even the cat can attend. That sound good?¡± Suddenly the only thing on my mind was the thought of a new adventure. A panoramic view! Deep down I really was a simple, hopeless creature. Just maybe not nasty. ¡°Meow!!¡± I bellowed. This horrified Reed. ¡°She hates you!¡± she told me in a hissed whisper. ¡°Meow!¡± I repeated. She sighed. ¡°I guess it could be nice.¡± ¡°You will,¡± DeGalle said reassuringly. ¡°Stand down, guards.¡± All the guards were still standing. None of the guards moved. ¡°They¡¯ll stand down.¡± ¡°I guess we¡¯ll have a story for Bayce when we get back,¡± Reed said, giving in so hard her shoulders untensed and her arms flopped. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Then began the preparations for lunch, which were an adventure in themselves. If DeGalle hadn¡¯t shouldered most of the burden of this prep, I would¡¯ve been as upset as Reed¡ªinstead of painfully, overwhelmingly curious. We got to watch as DeGalle¡¯s research forces were mobilized into a catering service, parading way too many food options past us as Reed insisted she really, sincerely wanted to eat nothing. They had a lot of puddings and jellies, and a marmot pat¨¦ that actually looked decent. I requested it with a raise of my paw. Reed relented but ordered only a glass of berry juice. These were set in a box and hoisted into a caterer¡¯s arms. Then another team came in carrying a¡­really long plank of wood. It seemed heavy, way heavier than wood of that size should be, and they had to walk slowly and weave through a lumpy crowd. Then they set the plank¡­at the base of one of the mountains. Huh? ¡°Do you have any preexisting conditions which would make it hard for you to breathe at high altitudes?¡± DeGalle rattled off an index card. Reed just gave her a squinchy look. ¡°Alright, then.¡± The mountain before us, untouched by the drills, towered up through the mist that covered us all. For the first time I studied a Kaug¡¯s lead-colored streaks, and the arcoiritic sparkles thrown about, I guessed, by the magic latent in the magnet rock. Somebody shouted out, ¡°Stairs!¡± And the plank of wood unfolded. A paper fan unfurls its rectangular parts in a spiral. Thes stairs moved the exact same way, only they curled upward and used the mountain as their pivot. As they went, they were smaller, too. At the end of a long and surprisingly beautiful minute, the stairs had shrunken their way up past the cloud cover, bringing every wood piece to a halt. DeGalle clapped her hands. More employees, with boxed food in their hands and packs on their backs, went jogging up the stairs. They held completely firm! That was a relief. But not for Reed. She said a rote ¡°thank you for your kindness¡± before trudging her way to the first step. Ah, whatever. I was enjoying the journey, or at least the novelty of it. Still, I glued myself to Reed¡¯s side and vowed not to let my excitement show. Reed was so much less excited to be here than I was, and I felt I understood why. She¡¯s not eating alone, I told myself, so don¡¯t make her feel like she is. Meanwhile: woah, we weren¡¯t just chiseling today, we were hiking! *** There had been times, on the heights of buildings and on the top of a certain extremely tall tree by Mirror Pond, when I¡¯d felt the air start to thin. The urge to yawn would overtake me, but never quite be satisfied. The urge to jump, too, with wings or a parachute, and just feel the breeze throughout my being. But even just standing there, I¡¯d feel the change in the air profoundly, through my whole body. Air quality, humidity, thinness, and all of that were small changes, maybe, and yet fundamental. If I breathe a certain kind of air my whole life, one bit of difference might as well be sweeping. Here at the higher heights of the Kaugs, where I actually stayed and sustained that altitude, the difference was dramatic. The odder thing about it, though¡ªbesides the spiral staircase, though that was pretty out-there¡ªwas the way the temperature stayed about the same. Given the more humid air up here, it was like going from a cool bath to a cool day: neither pleasant nor unpleasant in the changing. The animals who¡¯d built their nests and burrows in the rock seemed barely fazed by our passage. I knew that none of their nests were as deep as the drillings, and that some, if not all, must have been used and reused through generations. The stairs had conveniently locked into place just above or just below these homes¡ªor was that an intentional function? Once I saw a curious bird peeking out and attempting to poke at my feet. It looked like a woodpecker, except it, or some ancestor, must¡¯ve had a titanium-strength beak (or titanium-level Traits and Skills) to allow it to bust through the mountain. Reed, DeGalle and I were walking side by side, far behind DeGalle and the food-carrying employees. While I wanted to be rubbing Reed¡¯s shoulder with a calming hand through all this, I wasn¡¯t sure about the idea. It felt too weird, too¡­forward? I contented myself with walking close and turning my gaze to her more often than elsewhere. But in the center of my mind¡­ Hey, Sierra?
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
Invalid request. Get specific.
What¡¯s more specific than that?! Clearly I need to talk to you!
BEEP. No. Try again. You did so well last time.
Ahem¡­ Oh, great goddess of the cats and¡­reincarnations¡­please inform me of DeGalle¡¯s past and her true intentions, and do not lead me astray, but only¡­lead me¡­rightly. Yeah.
Is this all your Creativity Stat is good for? *sigh* Maybe next Evolution you¡¯ll do better, huh?
Shut up! I make progress!!
Ignoring that insult (for your own good)¡­ Okay, so I¡¯ve never met DeGalle personally, but she certainly has met at least one cat personally on the transexistential planes, and, uh, the encounter didn¡¯t go well.
For wh¡ª
For the cat. But don¡¯t worry, you¡¯re doing admirably well with her. It¡¯s the Quest Item you should be worried about. Correction: it¡¯s the Quest Item I¡¯m angry that you aren¡¯t worried about.
You¡¯re the one who made it super-obscure.
To make it enticing!
It¡¯s not my fault I keep getting distracted¡ªwell, not entirely. A-and you should¡¯ve put a time limit on it!
I overestimated you again¡­
I was done with this conversation. The taste it left in my mouth was bitter enough that I wished I hadn¡¯t gone in thinking Sierra might be in one of her friendlier moods. Any disappointment or anger she felt, it was her fault¡ªshe¡¯d tried to make me punch above my weight. I would not focus on this Quest again until I¡¯d had my meal. That¡¯d show her. Slightly. After several minutes of swirling up the stairs that looked straight out of a whimsical children¡¯s book written and illustrated by a doctor, we did it. We broke through the cloud cover. Just in time, too, since the steps had been getting shorter and shorter until, now, they were practically reduced to twigs. A human and a cat, maybe two, were all that could fit on one. So it was with relief that we stepped off onto the pointy peak of the¡­ Oh, the makeshift waiters had definitely done something fancy with this. A platform had been built around the peak. You know how a treehouse sometimes has that big tree stabbing up through the floor, like the side or the center of it, but the tree also supports that platform? Exactly that, except add a table laden with plates and boxes, and put the platform in the exact middle so the point comes jabbing out. And that point was exactly as sharp as I¡¯d dreamed it might be from a distance. Close to earth, the colors of the stones and mountains had seemed darker and a little dimmer. What made them look like silver sewing needles at the top? Was it the air, the sunlight, or my imagination? Either way, staring at for too long burned an afterimage into my corneas. Hard to resist, though. As we began to take our seats with the already-seated DeGalle, we found that the round table was perfectly sized for three people. Three human people, though¡ªsitting in mine gave me a non-ideal height and barely raised my chin above the edge. And no pillows or anything to add height?! But I decided I¡¯d take what I could get. Then we attended to our meals. DeGalle¡¯s wordless eating instituted on all of us a code of silence. For a strange hour, our troubled party was as profoundly hushed as the high air around us. *** Here is the gist of the world of Vencia: There¡¯s the mortal world, mostly populated by animals and humans and normal things, yet also suffused with magic and monsters. And there¡¯s the immortal world, also known as the world of spirits, the transexistential planes, the alternate dimensions, and stuff like that. Way too many names, and possibly way too many worlds. Some of the spirits are legendary creatures worshipped or feared by locals. Some are dead people. Some are gods. Others are the ghostly equivalent of serial killers. That, largely, is where Rare Hunters like DeGalle come in. But since spirits can be so esoteric, coming from limitless moral systems and, well, literal Systems, there are many, many ways that interfering with their messes can go wrong. But people have to try, right? People on Earth would try! After our meal, Reed got to work on the big reason we¡¯d come this way anyway, with DeGalle looming over us and occasionally strutting in a pensive circle on the platform. Having me extract the poledust was out of the question, since it¡¯d be difficult for me to scrape it out without major frustration and cramps. Once the compass was set on the rock, and the miniature plunger was set inside the span of the compass, and the compass was stabilized, and the surface was pre-scratched and pre-poked, Reed kneeled next to that gleaming needle, scratched, and then it was done. ¡°Here,¡± she said, passing me the dust in a tiny drawstring pouch. ¡°Try holding it in your h¡ªpaws. Front paws. Press down on it. Just take them off if it gets to be too much.¡± I awkwardly plopped the dust bag on the ground and placed my paws on top. Hopefully that would be oka¡ª Yes it was. After a few seconds of nothing special, I began to feel a magnetic force in my paws that spread throughout my body. I felt it as a pulsing wave coaxing me in a single direction: south, south, south. The longer I touched it, the stronger it became. And the more I focused, the more incessant! I was happy to step off. Reed chuckled. ¡°Sorry if that made you feel sick or dizzy. But that¡¯s what poledust does! If humans keep it strapped to their belts or safe in their Inventory, it won¡¯t do anything¡­¡± She bent close and whispered, ¡°It should be the same for yours.¡± I meowed in quiet agreement. Just as we planned to walk down to camp¡ªwhether or not DeGalle permitted us to¡ªwe heard a shout from below, and frantic footsteps from far beneath the cloud cover. DeGalle spun on her heel, shades down, expression unchanging. She knew, like us, that something in the camp had gone seriously wrong. 78. Fire in the Hole ¡°The mountains. They¡¯re hollow.¡± The three of us¡ªme, Reed, and DeGalle¡ªstared into a hole near the mountain¡¯s base, all while researchers and drillers worked at their boulders more frantically than before. Apparently the person originally drilling it had only gone so far as to make a hole twice as deep as all the others. Only after the results and the panic they brought on had a larger team sawed out what we were seeing: a massive chasm, big and echoey enough that inside you could hear a pin drop. And if you looked up, the ceiling was a chasm too. Even Reed didn¡¯t feel like arguing with this destruction. She and I listened with worried faces (and tail). ¡°As you can see,¡± a campsite person noted, ¡°the edges have been crushed into poledust.¡± Sticking their arm way in, they dragged their fingers along the sloping lower edge, pulled it up, and showed off the sand. It had come off in a layer so thick that it dripped. ¡°But underneath that layer, it¡¯s just solid rock again.¡± ¡°And how many mountains is this affecting?¡± DeGalle demanded to know. ¡°Well, we¡¯ve only tested the one,¡± they said, and gestured up to the tallest of the spires. ¡°Shall we test mo¡ª¡± ¡°Test more.¡± DeGalle fiddled with the toothpick. ¡°That¡¯s no ambient magic. Someone¡¯s making this happen.¡± ¡°W-we have to go,¡± Reed blurted out. ¡°This is too much for us.¡± I meowed curiously at her, wanting to ask, What¡¯s up? Are you scared?! But then I thought better of it. More likely she just wanted to get out of here before we got tied up in their¡­situation. And before anyone suspected us of the wrongdoing. It was clear, though, that no one was exactly paying the two of us much attention, not even the guards. While I was still wondering how things would play out in the camp, it was probably gonna be more of the same: drilling more holes, and seeing vast pits. This investigation wouldn¡¯t end today! ¡ªWoah, speaking of investigating. I kept forgetting about the notification from way back, the one my goddess herself was apparently angry that I¡¯d been neglecting. Then again, short of suffering direct celestial wrath, cats are gonna be self-directed and stubborn to the best of our ability. Just speaking in general. And Sierra had yet to kick me in the face or anything. Just metaphorically, in the heart. Still. Map.
Current Location: The Kaugs (S.A5) Sub-Location: DeGalle¡¯s Camp
If this Treasure turned out to be the cause of the hollow mountains, then¡­then maybe by not getting it sooner, I was the cause of this stuff! However indirect! But I wasn¡¯t gonna beat myself up over it, not right now. I was in action mode, wide-eyed, starting to scan the area to try and pinpoint the Treasure out in the world. No sign of it yet. Meanwhile, Reed was talking to a guard, evidently trying to see herself out without giving the preoccupied DeGalle a chance to incriminate her. Uh, Map, can you¡­zoom in any closer in on that? Closer? Closer but stop doing nothing but making it blurry, please?
Error: ¡°but stop doing nothing but making it blurry, please¡± is an Invalid Request.
For crying out loud! Okay, zoom, enhance. Ah, here was something handier. Maybe. For most scenarios restricted to a single Map square, my Map didn¡¯t provide detail worth a darn. It showed me, the Treasure, and no other living entities. But it did at least present some general environmental features. Crudely drawn mountains stood in a ring around me, and the tallest one in real life, fittingly, looked tallest on the Map! I mean, none of it was to scale, but at least that helped me confirm I really was closest to the tallest of the spires. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Critically, the Treasure was just a few mountains away from the campsite. And it wasn¡¯t on a peak¡­and I couldn¡¯t see a hollow. Zoom, enhance?
Zoom limit reached. Detail limit reached.
Then this would have to do. Reed was starting to leave the camp¡ªhurry out. I followed her for a few moments as she power-walked, saying, ¡°This is gonna be a mess, isn¡¯t it¡­ I wish I could¡ª¡± ¡°Meow,¡± I said gently. At the same time, I not-so-gently jabbed her in the shin. ¡°Agh!¡± She hissed in pain. Oops, that was¡­way harder than I intended. Leveling Up so much threatened to give me monster strength, and I¡¯d have to learn back. But later! I could apologize and do all that later! But at least Reed stopped as I gestured. With my paw, I traced a path in the air: go straight ahead, but then curve around the outside of the mountain ring a little. I needed to find that Treasure. She nodded, breath heavy already. My heart was starting to pump. She broke into a trot and so did I, and instead of going back between the guards, we veered over toward some hefty boulders. I was surprised by how quickly Reed wrangled herself through even the close-packed rocks. Maybe she¡¯d learned from the journey here! I¡¯d never been proud of anyone else before, but suddenly I had an idea of what it meant to be proud of a friend¡ªand with my eager eyes, I urged her on. As we circled over toward the west, we also circled into the shadows of the highest Kaugs, and a few boulders that jutted sideways like cliff rock. Splotches of shadows hid us. We began to see our breath. Mid-stride, she swapped out her coat for something a little heavier, with furlike cotton around the collar, and yet I could tell it wasn¡¯t quite heavy enough. She spoke between deep breaths. ¡°I trust you, completely, and I¡¯ll be¡ªwe¡¯ll be fine¡ªI¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t get you any¡ªget you any coat¡­¡± I could have smirked. As long as I wasn¡¯t losing HP over it, as long as I wasn¡¯t freezing to the bone, I could weather this. For a few minutes, anyway. We hurried to the site of the Treasure, and I stopped dead. Checking the Map told me I was nail-bitingly close. When I looked up, I indeed saw nothing¡ªa gap revealing sun and sky. Kaug spindles seemed to rise upward and outward, radiating from me. I needed to tunnel. I was close to snow. It went up in flurries as I paved tracks through, filling myself with the confidence of a jackrabbit, headed for the Treasure. Then I only had to squirm my way through a crevice¡ªit seemed to be leading to a hollow¡ª ¡°Wait!¡± I wish I could, Reed. You¡¯ll have to wait or bust in. Map!!
Note: Your Player Marker is currently blocking a Treasure.
Straining my bones through a hole between clustered rocks, I struggled, blinked, and emerged. I fell an inch or two into total darkness, tore through it with my piercing eyes. My feet landed on soft snow, and I looked out on more snow, slates of ice, and dirt. So much dirt, and on the walls of this hole, they crawled upward, packed in close with rocks. Several cats could fit in here¡ªand almost live comfortably. Sniffing, I detected all manner of animal smells, as if many passed through here but few stayed. Actually, there was a kind of underlying smell, a little acid, that took me off guard. It seemed familiar, but I couldn¡¯t tell for the life of me whether it was the smell of certain wet leaves after rain, or bark, or mulch. I could zoom no further on my Map. Apparently, my Taipha Marker remained directly on top of it. So the Treasure was right next to me? Or above? Below? I swung my head around, saw nothing. Dimly I heard Reed calling for me outside, and I sent back a loud but gentle meow. At least, I hoped she¡¯d perceive it as gentle. Reed couldn¡¯t even fit down here without squatting. Something hit the dirt. Two Fire Spells, dropped down from where Reed was. I picked them up, bringing my count to five¡ªand this alone could be very good help if things got deadly. I preferred not to start a cave-in before even attempting to dig downward. So go down I did, scraping through the mulch. This was extremely hard, fatiguing work. Not surprising, since it was, after all, ninety percent rocks, but tinged with sadness because I¡¯d been hoping my raw strength would be enough to just blow through! Instead, I was scratching out dust. Hm. Well, I didn¡¯t have Skills and full SP for nothing. And I still had three Attack Ups on me, so I didn¡¯t mind using one.
ATK 108 (+50%)
Now: Slash! It ate through rock, actually shattering it. I could not have been happier with this result. That¡¯s a lie. If it¡¯d been a critical, and sent searing blood up through my limb in a glorious feedback jolt, that would¡¯ve been spectacular. What I got was still cool, especially as it melted, then sizzled snow around me. Underneath the rock was a small, curved, sandy hollow. But the sand was silver, and somehow I knew it wanted to crawl toward the south. Importantly, underneath it sat the item. The book. One of the ones Sierra¡¯d had, that she¡¯d wanted to show me for her mysterious goddess reasons. The massive one that resembled marble. Good thing I was about to get a cantrip for reading, because these illegible things were about to drive me up a wall. Maybe it was a diary¡ªon its edge, keeping together a slender chain, was a lock. I slipped it into my Inventory. I couldn¡¯t. I forgot I had all five slots taken¡­and two were so situational they were admittedly garbage. Darnit. Well, no problem, I¡¯d just push it over to Reed and she¡¯d take it! As I thought up the plan, a startling change swept through the hollow. Pustules rose from the dirt. There was no other way to describe them. Round and solid clumps thrust themselves up from the spots of mulch. What little light reached down here made them glisten like so many worms. Ew. Ew. I wasn¡¯t squeamish, but something about this combination of the slick and the unknown was making my stomach start to seize. In fact, my instinct was to back away¡ªwithout having grabbed anything. But I wasn¡¯t gonna do that. Instantly I swatted the book, started pawing it up out of the depression. I had a mission to fulfill, and it was going to be a quick, easy¡ª The pustules exploded. And I knew I was wrong, they were living beings. A swarm of krigries converged on me, out to claim their book. 79. Marble Murder The first thing I did when I saw the rush of krigries was unleash all five of my Fireballs in a mass inferno. Just in any direction. Because the bugs were flying toward me from every direction. And I mean from the ceiling, from the walls and a layer behind the walls. So many that this had to have been their nest all along. Which I should have frickin¡¯ known. To borrow the phrase from Bayce. That had not been a smell of soil or wetness. It¡¯d been these beasts! So I flung a rapid-fire spread shot of fire all about, and the hole lit up with flame. Several insects sizzled. But there were several more. In fact, from what I could tell, the ones I¡¯d hit weren¡¯t even down for the count. When I spotted the first brown carapace turning black, falling back to the dirt they¡¯d risen from, I checked my EXP to see if it¡¯d risen.
EXP: 46% (1320/2850)
Nope¡­and I checked it again as I whirled past the first attack to dive for me and spotted a second.
EXP: 46% (1320/2850)
Not that one either¡­ The reason I was only checking on two, despite having thrown several flames, was because most of the bugs on fire were still flying. They were on fire and they were still flying. The secret seemed to be in another series of changes I saw all throughout the flock. Subtle ones, of a kind I only recognized because I was intimately familiar with it. The insects were using Meditate. Or something like it. Puffs of steam with the barest tinge of a royal, wise purple. These observations flew through my mind at the speed of a second or two. They came as several insects swooped toward me at once, extending vicious pincers. And then I switched gears quickly. It was no trouble at all to transition into my second phase: combat, combat, combat.
HP 100% (443/443)
SP 70% (264/378)
I flung myself out of twin krigrie paths, my breath hitching as I caught the razor edge of one claw. Okay, I thought, keeping my brain steady, you need Defense for this. With 264 SP, a Guard was nothing. I set it up.
SP 62% (235/378)
DEF 77 (+50%)
And I needed Attack, too. Because behind me, the krigries were grabbing the book. If I didn¡¯t swat them off, this Treasure would be lost. Goodbye, my two Attack Ups. You¡¯re going to a good cause.
ATK 180 (+150%)
The explosion of strong scent the Spells unleashed cut through even the bugs and the lingering flames. My Attack was so high at this stage¡ªtoo strong for my body¡ªthat I felt a kind of uncomfortable not even rivaled by the pain I felt in my bones when I stacked Guards. Since my original Attack Up from earlier had never worn off, I had boost on boost on boost. Not only that, but it was in my veins. And veins feel different from bones, you know. I tried not to think about the blood rushing through me at triple time. Or the fact that I was trembling so hard I had practically thrown down a tankard of humans¡¯ beloved coffee. Scratch that, I didn¡¯t have time! First step was to get the book, second was to fight my way out. I pounced toward the thing¡ªwhich I could only half see, now that about a third of this swarm had clustered on top of it. Of course, shredding my Spells meant I had the space for it. I stared into a bit of exposed. Inventory. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Nothing. Inventory book. Inventory put the book in. Ow, my back! Get off! I thought, shaking like a bronco. Come on, System! Inventory!
Error: No viable object found in space provided.
It¡¯s the perfect time to glitch, isn¡¯t it?! Don¡¯t mind the extra venom in my words, I was just going through waves of pain thanks to the seven-centimeter krigrie pincer in my back.
HP 79% (350/443)
The Guard was doing something to keep the damage low, but only relatively. I reached over and gave the krigrie a strong claw in the side. Raw, Skill-less damage with my current Attack was enough to get it out, and my relief was palpable. As palpable as the strikes that flooded in right afterward. What have to be a dozen krigries flew toward me at once. The fires were nearly gone¡ªreplaced by glows that began bright pink, then pulsed to the color of blood. The krigries had their mouths open, revealing sets of four mandibles each, all studded with the same razors as their pincers. They weren¡¯t playing. They were willing to kill for this book. I meowed as loud as I could. At this stage, I hardly needed intuition to know that Reed could mean the difference between life and death here. Then, just before they closed in, I jumped so that my front claws swooped in an arc before me, clawing through half of the oncoming bugs with a searing Slash. That was so satisfying. For just half of a second, I felt carapaces tearing beneath my claws, which broke through to the flesh within. I did not revel in the feeling of the amethyst insect blood. I simply went to the next phase¡ªmy body like a machine, my mind serving it well. In the back of my mind, though, I felt a euphoric burst. In my vision, I saw a set of boxes that I paid no attention to. I knew what they said. And I knew where my next target was¡ªI was curving around to get back to the book, to unleash the very last of my Slash before it dissipated. And before my first Attack Up faded. I knew the timer was running out. With a snarl, I clawed at the book. With a rattle of leaf-thing wings, the krigries with the dark-red glow converged on my back. One of the insects that¡¯d latched onto the book got clawed through. The rest hurried out of my path even before I reached them¡ªand revealed their own wings, and added to the chittering chorus of insect as they rose. In a single whoosh of movement, the book rose. Poledust filled the air and landed in my eyes. One Attack Up buff ran out, and Swipe ran out. That was practically no loss at all. I knew, stoically, that I¡¯d Leveled Up. In fact, this was actually an opportunity. The bugs that¡¯d gathered to feast on my back, they were all still there. All six, piercing and sucking, thorns and leeches.
HP 67% (313/470)
Instead of attacking them, right this moment, I was running, because I had an idea that might be foolish. I used every Guard I could muster¡ªand cringed as tightening bones fought with racing blood.
DEF 189 (+250%)
Gah! I hadn¡¯t meant to look at the Stat change¡ªjust knowing the percentage gain gave me vertigo. But all pain of vision and bones was about to be forgotten. Wham. I bashed myself against the wall of the hollow, accidentally bashing my head against an embedded rock. But non-accidentally bashing my back¡ªand scraping it¡ªagainst a piece of slate about as sharp as an axe head.
HP 61% (286/470)
My damage was minor, thanks to the Guards. The krigries wailed. That was the first time I¡¯d heard their mouths do more than chitter. It was eerie how much they could endure, how not even falling in flames had provoked that much. I didn¡¯t check to see if any had died. I¡¯d only done that to get them off my back, literally, and avoid suffering more of that literal leech-style sucking¡ªthat was obviously the type of attack that, if left over time, would only get worse. Now I darted for the book. As I turned back around, a sound caught me from the hole in the hollow. Only briefly, and I couldn¡¯t make it out completely. Reed¡¯s voice¡ªbut somehow she was being held up? Ah, one thing at a time. I jumped for the krigries holding the book. They were themselves heading out of the hollow. Halfway there, in fact. I missed, because they sped up just as I¡¯d almost grabbed one. As I touched ground again, I considered overcoming that with a Leap. And, well, maybe I would. But first I¡¯d send out a couple of Air Cutters, one after the other, at slightly different angles. Blast away as many krigries as I could. I darted left, then darted right, and flicked my whole body as I sent out the blasts of air. They rocked the krigries, each one loosing a few insects and revealing more of the book they¡¯d tried to smother. With fewer left to hold it up, it lurched in the air. Now I didn¡¯t need to Leap. I simply jumped, catching the lower edge of the book while my back legs hung loose. To latch on, I had to punch my front claws in. Instead of stabbing into the stone the cover resembled, they made it through thick leather. The krigries responded with a chitter I somehow knew was furious. One of them attacked me¡ªclawed me right in the face. Almost in the eye. That was a low blow¡­so low I felt justified in going lower. I thrust my head upward and chomped down on the krigrie. Creench. Ow¡­ I wouldn¡¯t have been able to bite through this at all if not for the Attack Ups still active on me. Creench, creench, creench. Oh, wow, this tasted awful! Wait, maybe it was poison. I spat it out. And as I did and the defeated, crispy krigrie fell to the ground, its kindred pulled me and the book out into the bright wider world again. With a final glance back into the pit, I saw a few insect bodies littered around, and the pits they¡¯d made when they¡¯d pimplishly risen. But I also saw a remarkable¡­lack of them. Huh¡­ Oh. This battle wasn¡¯t even half-over, was it? 80. Celestial Haymaker It was an incredible sight: the massive clouds of krigries rushing through the misty mountains, stretching out and around in paths of black with pops of glowing color in their midst: red, and a purple the shade of their blood. They seemed to be rooting around in a frenzy for something. The marble-patterned book, maybe? Yeah, this whole panorama would probably change in all of two seconds. And this was definitely more krigries than I had seen in that pit. I guessed those pit bugs had come up to join some other bugs, all ready to defend their loot. And I would say I was sorry for taking their stuff¡­if I¡¯d been sorry at all. I would take their anger over my creator¡¯s today, thanks! It wasn¡¯t like I could kiss and make up with violent animals this incapable of chatting with me. For now, I saw Reed as a cluster of bugs lifted me, via the book I clung to, up out of the hollow. She¡¯d been fighting krigries herself, which wasn¡¯t a surprise at all, now that I had a moment to think about it. Sunrise-colored energy wafted from her sword, but she didn¡¯t quite look exhausted yet, and that was an extremely good thing. In the middle of a cleaving blow through a fraction of the swarms, she caught sight of me and gasped, ¡°Cat!¡± But the moment she took a single step toward me, there was a sea change in the insect masses. Like they all had a miniature Map in their vision with the Treasure in crosshairs. They were coming together to converge on me. The clouds threaded through the Kaugs all drifted. More slowly, but with more focus, too. With pops of cool colors and red in their midst. I knew what I had to do: fortify Defense or die. And I steeled myself for the reverberating pain that would cau¡ª ¡°Stop!¡± A voice more powerful than any swarm rattled the Kaugs. It was DeGalle, standing in the crook of a valley at just the right angle for sunlight to pour across her being! At first, I had a sad gut feeling that her defiant cry would do nothing. That gut feeling called itself ¡°realistic.¡± But it must have been forgetting we lived in a magical world, because actually, the insects became confused again! She looked up at the clouds of bugs now collected into one jiggling blob. With a meaty gauntlet, she pointed, proclaiming, ¡°You mess with anyone, you mess with me!¡± The bugs on the book were wavering, dangling me about two meters off the ground. Reed, fresh off her final krigrie kills, nervously giggled. And DeGalle, un-nervously, jumped straight up into the cloud, boosted off the ground by two enormous, bazooka-strength gouts of white flame, trailing a scent of ether. She pulled right up to the cloud of bugs and punched into the middle of it, like it was one giant entity. Behind her, in the valley, most of her campsite¡ªmaybe even all¡ªwere fighting for space to look up and watch the fireworks. Spiral stairs were even going up around mountains. Anything for that golden view. But¡­what was even supposed to happen? If she punched one, she¡¯d just hit anywhere from one to six krigries, and¡ªoh wait! Magic!! The world went dark. It blinked into total blackness. I realized, with one of the biggest jolts of fright I¡¯d ever been though, that I was in an endless void¡­but I was clearly not alone. Every human who¡¯d been around was here: Reed two meters down on the ground, the camp people in and behind the valley¡ªor where the valley had once been¡­and DeGalle, suspended in the air. The krigries were also there, flat-brown in the expanse of black. DeGalle, almost seeming to stand mid-air, drew her fist back and cried, ¡°Celestial Haymaker!¡± The krigries seemed frozen. Until they were punched, and kicked, and walloped again, and sent flying in all directions until DeGalle teleported into all those directions one split second after the other and punched them back into position, and past it, so that they moved like pinballs bouncing against dead space (unbound by laws of physics) and back into her fists, which glowed, not as vibrantly as a single star but with the force of many and in nuclear pinpoints, smashing them, sandwiching the bugs into a single compacted junkyard-block of flesh and exoskeleton, before her next kick speared them again. And on and on, in what should have taken forever but didn¡¯t. But it would have, if we lived in the land of logic. This, wherever it was, was DeGalle¡¯s world, a place of backflips, martial-artistic energy bombs, and¡­um¡­not much else. Also worth noting was the fact that I was locked in place, and could do hardly anything but turn my head. Which was useful for watching DeGalle and not much else in this vast DeGalle cinema. I turned to look at Reed and she yawned. I turned to the crowds and could swear I saw people tearing up. If anything, I was in the middle of both camps. Her moves were pretty cool! Not that I could perceive most of them. Admittedly, it was kind of annoying that she kept shouting out ¡°hah!¡± and ¡°take this!¡± every fifth attack. Then, finally, after several seconds so spectacular they could have been many full minutes, DeGalle released the roar of a wolf. She threw both of her celestial gauntlets back behind her head, jumped up from nothing-ground into nothing-sky, and with a final ¡°RAH!¡± smashed them down on the swarm. They fell incredibly fast¡ªbut not long. They hit the nothing-ground so fast that the void exploded into flaming, steaming chunks of white energy that stung my ears and blurred my vision¡ª Booting us back to reality. The Kaugs rematerialized, and the moment all those people had their vocal cords back, exclamations of awe filled the crowd. Reed put a hand on her chest, hyperventilating from the surprise of it. Much like me, only I also had to deal with all the krigries on my book suddenly being dead, and therefore causing my book to hurtle straight down into the ground. Wait¡­had DeGalle activated a move or Skill that somehow targeted all krigries in this area regardless of whether they were in front of her? Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. That broke my brain a little. As if her first attack hadn¡¯t already! I tumbled into a hillock of snow, snapping all four limbs across the book¡¯s long edge¡ªnobody was getting this thing but me. And Reed, she could help. She ran to me, panting, dropping her sword back into her back. ¡°Are you alright? I¡¯m not,¡± she said frantically between breaths. ¡°I mean, I am¡ªsorry, I am just¡ªjust¡­¡± She calmed herself down. ¡°I was sick with worry and being forced to do nothing but watch some weird Skill didn¡¯t help.¡± As she spoke, I listened out for bugs. I couldn¡¯t hear their telltale chorus, so the coast was seemingly clear, and nobody out of that whole crowd had their eyes on my book. Well, before they might put their eyes on the book, I slammed it right into my Inventory.
Book: ??? Error: Undefined variable #TIME?
¡­Man¡ªSystem¡ªI¡¯m too exhausted right now. Try this nonsense with me later. And I really was exhausted. While my HP wasn¡¯t terrible and I hadn¡¯t actually needed to use all of my Minor Heal Spells yet, the mental toll all of this had taken, plus the physical toll of pumping myself up time after time after time¡­ Reed could see it on my face. ¡°Let me pick you up,¡± she insisted. Well¡­that might be nice. Technically unnecessary, but nice. But I shook that thought out of my mind. I wouldn¡¯t dare let Reed pick me up when she had to be close to as tired herself. Not unless my legs literally gave out under me! Or my System blocked my view! Speaking of, hadn¡¯t my System told me I was ready to Evolve? ¡­My head hurt. A few people were approaching us. Darnit, my instinct told me this wouldn¡¯t be good. Looking past them toward the crowd, I saw¡­lots of people cradling DeGalle? Had she fainted from that attack? It made sense. And also implied that she had a million billion Human-SP, given the million billion moves she¡¯d just unleashed in a single so-called haymaker. Reed gathered me in her arms¡ªwhich I let her do only because I knew she was in a hurry to run from these people, and admittedly also because it did feel nice and warm (sue me). But before she got away, a hand gripped her shoulder. ¡°Hey!¡± the man in front shouted. ¡°DeGalle just saved you! Came after you two when she heard the commotion and saved you! And you just run away?!¡± Reed broke away, vehemently at first. But then she stopped, turned around, and changed to an icy glare. ¡°What is it,¡± she said. The man didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°It seems a little disrespectful, is all, and I think she was hoping you two would do something to clear your names.¡± ¡°Of course I¡­¡± Reed sighed and turned down her anger. I guessed that if he wanted her to ¡°clear her name,¡± staying mad would do no good in his eyes. ¡°Neither of us have powers that could carve out the rock like that. Anyone in these woods, and in my family, can testify. We only left because we don¡¯t want any trouble. We¡¯re strong enough to protect our own¡­not exactly strong enough to protect the whole forest. Assuming it¡¯s coming to that.¡±¡± ¡°Mmkay.¡± ¡°And¡­yes. We are thankful that she saved us¡­¡± She cleared her throat. ¡°And would not mind having lunch again.¡± ¡°Mmkay.¡± ¡°But you¡¯re not making her any more likable by yanking a ¡®thank you¡¯ out of me.¡± He and the people behind him were silent. I gave them a quick hiss, twisted my body, and dropped to the ground. I didn¡¯t want her to feel obligated to carry me after this weird and uncomfortable encounter. After Reed gave them a final curt nod, we left, heading a little further west. I planned to only take us as far as my Map needed me to go to explore this southwesternmost square. We¡¯d kind of had enough of this place for today, and not even because of the cold. I did feel some thankfulness and even strange longing for DeGalle. Buried in layers of defensive uncoolness was a spark of adventure and altruism, and that appealed to me, resonated with me. In the end, of course¡ªwhen push came to shove¡ªI would stay by Reed¡¯s side. I would snarl at anyone she hated, and doing otherwise seemed like a betrayal. And besides, Reed was, like¡­very nice! Maybe everyone she hated wasn¡¯t a demon, but they contained definite, prominent badness! She had nicely tuned people instincts! And when she felt frustrated, I felt the pain. Even if I didn¡¯t get why, I got who. As the sun started on its long set, I knew I had a lot to think about, to go over. Including one really obvious to-do. Apparently, the window had shrunk down of its own accord. A very user-friendly change, for once! When I opened up my Stats again, I saw it at the bottom:
Stats
Taipha Ash Heather
Lv. 20 EXP: 34% (1029/3000)
HP 60% (284/470)
SP 39% (155/395)
ATK 75
INT 51
DEF 54
WIS 39
SPD 66
Evolution Available!
Would you like to Evolve now? (Yes / No)
81. Page of Fate
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 37% (11/30)
Current Location: ??? (S.A4)
Here at the western edge of the Kaugs was an awkward cut-off to the haze we¡¯d spent hours wandering through, and on the other side were towering pines. Not nearly as towering as the mountains, of course, but robust and vibrantly green. A few meters out, they were intermixed with the typical oaks and maples. Then they gave way to the expansive fields that marked off these woods from the wider world. And to the south, I knew, was a similar view. Again, just beyond that veil of trees. Reed and I were sitting on a big rectangle of a rock, eating snacks before dinner. The light streaming through the thin clouds¡ªboth near and far¡ªalmost looked fluorescently white, raw light before it hits a prism and splits into a rainbow. For the first few seconds after taking our seats, we ripped out our snacks, almost furiously. Reed chugged from her canteen with a vengeance. I gnawed on the crispiest edge of a nova bull flank steak. And then we spontaneously stopped. I looked at Reed. And she looked at me. ¡­As usual, I couldn¡¯t speak to her. But I was used to it. I was standing on the verge of that not bothering me. Now that Reed was carrying poledust, we¡¯d be going home with the final ingredient for my first-ever cantrip. That boded well for things to come. Even if a lot of the other stuff we¡¯d just been through had been less comprehensible. Well, at least for likewise-incomprehensible reasons, my Evolution pop-up wasn¡¯t just blaring in my face twenty-four seven, like they usually would. I¡¯d only have to remember about it to summon it before my face again. But for now, I wouldn¡¯t disturb this moment of wondering about Reed, and of just hoping she could get home and get rested soon. (Something I wouldn¡¯t mind doing myself!) But for now¡­yes. I looked at Reed. She looked at me. Took a drink. Stopped. I gazed over her bruises, her twinkling eyes, her rose shirt and hair. And she swallowed awkwardly. ¡°Um¡­I don¡¯t mean to be pushy¡­but do you know what that book was? That I think you have, right now, in your Inventory?¡± Crap. Yeah, the mysterious ¡°TIME?¡± book. Time book huh? Mhm, just what I¡¯d expected: no answer. I still felt too conked-out to want to deal with it, but not only did Reed deserve an answer¡­so did Destiny! Or whatever. I hopped down onto some icy dirt, avoiding the slippery patches, remembering just how huge this thing was. It hit the ground like a mallet. Reed flinched¡ªso did I. Hm, had I missed something earlier, or did this cover just¡­change between now and me finding it? Because it had words on the cover. Fancy calligraphic silver words with letters like loping slides. Letters that I could read. Letters that I could read. Universe, were you not paying attention? I was on my way to get the power to read, I didn¡¯t have it already! Reed leaned over. ¡°It says¡­¡± She scratched her head. ¡°What language is that?¡± ¡°Meow,¡± I said confidently, for it was all I could say. Whatever language it was, I could read it The message on the cover was: The Book of Sister¡¯s Shadow The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡­well, I didn¡¯t have any sisters, so that was clearly irrelevant no matter the language. So instead of lingering on this, I just swatted the book open. Unfortunately, it wasn¡¯t giving! I swatted a few more times in utter confusion, until I realized I was hitting some sort of lock. Then I actually looked at the side of the tome. There, keeping the pages closed, was a little lock-and-chain mechanism. I could swat harder¡­but the chain did look very pretty. It shone like platinum, and maybe it was platinum. The lock part had a keyhole, and also gleamed silver. Just to mess around until we found a locksmith, I stuck my claw in. And heard a delicate music-box click. That actually opened it. The light of the sky was dimming. The blue skies were getting bluer, and faster than I¡¯d anticipated. Had we really spent that long exploring, fighting, debating strangers? Suddenly I felt a bit feverish. It was crashing down on me how big this day was¡ªand while all along I¡¯d known exactly how monumental getting this reading cantrip was, and approximately how major spending time with Reed and learning about DeGalle would turn out¡­I just did not know what I was in for. Maybe, like my yet-unused sword, it would be a big TBA. But I did not know. And time flies. I threw the book open with both paws. The cover hit the ground with another little thoom, feeling like leather but landing like a slab. We saw a lot of unceremonious nothing on the first page. Reed and I stared (not at each other¡ªat the page). Then a crack of thunder split the sky. It sounded so close that we flung our heads upward to see, and yet all we caught was the normal drifting of mist. We could even hear the normal, untouched birdsongs and goat calls behind us. But the book had changed. Emblazoned on that page, searing as if burnt in, were fresh words. More words that I alone could read. But before I could, all the book¡¯s pages whirred before me under their own electric power, their white edges going blue-black and seeming to burn, morphing into one near-cohesive blur. I was overcome with a surge of someone else¡¯s power, of someone else¡¯s fury tamped down and honed to a finish¡ªand I couldn¡¯t explain how I got so much personality from a disembodied feeling. But no doubt the book was speaking to me. I stared into pages that seemed as deep as a chasm. As I gazed, more words spooled out before me in brief patterns of wrought silver, and I caught whatever I could catch: Hello there Uh, hello, I guess¡ª Hahahahahaha ¡ªbut I, uh, why would you¡ª Heeheeheehee ¡ªat least, I donn¡¯t know why you would¡ª HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA ¡ªuntil the book flipped back to around the beginning, stopped itself, and went still. I was back to the first page with any writing on it. The margins were huge, the ink was silver mercury, and the letters were blackletter, bold as iron. This page could¡¯ve been written by a completely different person. It read: I was born in thunder; you were born in peace. I seek to end you as you seek to end me. Devour the contents of this book so that you shall become my equal, my worthy. ¡°I-I don¡¯t know what to say,¡± Reed mumbled. ¡°I-I-I wish I could read it with you, but¡­I have a feeling Bayce¡¯s cantrip can help us with that. Should we set up a tent, or¡­¡± Hold on, Reed, I thought. I¡¯m not finished yet. I¡¯d feel remiss if I didn¡¯t at least glance at the pages to come. Because even though that seemed to be falling right into the hands of an anonymous evildoer, curiosity was¡­uh¡­ I did have more lives, in case this killed me, right, Sierra? No answer, naturally. So I pawed through. This time, the book didn¡¯t force-flip me to a dramatic opener or anything like that. It just allowed me to peruse. I deliberately skipped anything that looked like more laughter. Fine, maybe there was like a laughter-code in there, but I didn¡¯t know Morse code. And who makes codes out of ¡°hee hee, ha ha, ho ho ho¡±? Who thinks any of this is a good idea?! So I had no guilt whatsoever about looking elsewhere. Plus, I was finding that almost none of the pages in this huge book had text on them, even after that whole big magical lightning-y show. In fact, after about thirty pages, words stopped dead. I did, however, find another text block, and it went like this: Day One I am born in thunder; she is born in sun. I can feel it in my spine in the same part of myself that senses the rain. My Maker wants me to train so I can become human more often. I feel alarmed. How can I save anybody when I am overwhelmed by feelings I had never known and never had to know in my former life, in my normal form. I have the capacity to feel more than fear and comfort now and I think this has to be honed and trained, like a different weapon. Insects are taking a liking to me and some are stronger than others. This was information I could understand¡­halfway. It was written in the voice of some mysterious entity who, through this book, was claiming to know me on a deeper level. Given the emotions I had sensed when the book violently opened itself, that might even be true. So¡­that would mean I was a ¡°sister born in sun¡± to¡­yeah, it had to be her: the sapphire queen I¡¯d encountered on the lake, who was friendly with lots of particularly strong bugs. Now I had her book, a book that maybe she wanted. And if I had to fill in more blanks, I could assume that she liked stopping time? Maybe? There was nothing else I could do now besides close the book, scoop it back up in my Inventory, and give Reed a placating ¡°meow.¡± I¡¯m sorry I can¡¯t explain this stuff to you, but it¡¯s not like I know that much myself! She, with a cautious hand, stroked delicately down my back. I relaxed tense muscles, wishing her soothing hand could go soul deep.
Inventory: 4/5 Chora¡¯s Crystal Ring Debug Blade Minor Heal x3 Book of Sister¡¯s Shadow Much of this diary has yet to be written.
82. Mellow We decided to take it slow for the rest of the evening, moving gradually out from the heart of the Kaugs to head back the way we¡¯d come. I was no longer in the mood to go adventuring far and wide, hitting new Map squares. I was pensive and I wanted firmer ground. As we passed many meters south of the circles of mountains that surrounded DeGalle¡¯s camp, my ears twitched, dimly picking up the bustle of dozens and dozens of people. Maybe they were nursing DeGalle and investigating the mountains more, or, on a slim chance, packing their things. Sometimes the stars were up there and sometimes they weren¡¯t, hidden by buoyant clouds. They streamed overhead as Reed leaned against a tree and took a drink. I took a quick break alongside her, lapping up a puddle of meltwater, sighing out my fatigue. That book was beginning to disturb me. It had either come from a secret friend of mine or an evil megalomaniac. Probably the latter, because it came with lightning and swarming animals. Yet my goddess wanted me to have it. Plus, if the book itself were really that hostile¡­wouldn¡¯t it have killed me by now? Riddle me that, universe. If it tried anything serious, Bayce could always sell it on some Vencian auction website. That¡¯s how you spin a negative into a positive. ¡­Okay, but seriously. I was still puzzling out all the clues the book had just given me. Only now, as we crossed the threshold back into the field of armadillos and bulls, did it hit me that the book¡¯s author may have themself been reincarnated. Because the words ¡°I was born in thunder, you were born in peace¡± (or ¡°sun¡± or what-have-you) definitely implied that we¡¯d been born about the same way¡­but I wasn¡¯t ¡°born¡± on Vencia, exactly. So maybe there was another nekomata out there? Right now? An evil one? It kind of made sense. Given the history of cats on this planet, as well as DeGalle apparently having slugged a previous nekomata in the face, more catgirls wouldn¡¯t be too odd. But¡­I had no idea whether my mind was on the right track. And besides, I was not excited whatsoever to meet a fellow cat. Not after all the rejection I¡¯d faced on Earth from fellow city cats. We set up camp in the same place we¡¯d set it up before: against an immense rock, with the splendor of the Kaugs spanning the world behind us and the drier savannah wafting in front. Reed shrugged her coat off into a sort of cape, and with a smile that spoke more than words, began to set up the fireplace, to show that she cared for both of us. I was no freeloader. Poof. I Morphed with the full knowledge that tonight¡¯s SP could not go to a better cause than this. Then, before Reed could cry out or tell me ¡°no,¡± I dashed out to the nearest dead, twiggy tree, reached up, and ripped off branches for kindling, hurling them mercilessly to earth. Then when I ran out, I just started climbing! The nubs of former branches gave me footholds as my hands churned upward, sawing off the higher limbs. Yay! My coordination in this form was getting a lot better. It¡¯d been a great idea to spontaneously practice this form a little after all. I jumped down from the tree and landed on my face. ¡­Granted, I had hit the soles of my blocky sandals first, but wobbling forward and windmilling my arms did not give me the balance I needed to stay upright after all. Reed raced over. Dropping to a kneel, she gathered the kindling in one arm and circled the other arm around my torso. ¡°Hey!¡± she cried. ¡°Don¡¯t help so much you hurt yourself! Please!¡± If I¡¯d had any less of a sense of humor, then yeah, I might¡¯ve been crying on impact. The day had been odd and overwhelming. It had to have been for her. Still, now that I¡¯d made my mistake, I didn¡¯t want her to worry. I had to tell her I was fundamentally alright. With a toothy grin, I flashed a thumbs-up and gave her a warbly, ¡°Myeaow-w-w!¡± It didn¡¯t convince her. After she got me steady, I lurched back to the camp, sat on a rock, and shook the bruises off. Tracing a finger around one throbbing eye¡ªa black eye?¡ªI realized just how much I must have scared Reed back there. And while I was an independent being making independent actions¡­I knew that with some forethought, I wouldn¡¯t have put her through that. I felt not guilty, but sorry. And to spare her the sight of my injured eye, I un-Morphed and hung my head. ¡°I¡¯m alright,¡± Reed said, arranging the branches in the middle of camp. ¡°And you¡¯re really your own person¡­or person-spirit. I don¡¯t want to impose.¡± Please impose. The thought surprised me. But I actually did need cooler heads to keep me stable. The tutorial stage of my life was over. I had much to learn from Reed and Chora, with their steady thinking. *** After gnawing quietly on leftovers for an hour, watching the occasional dark shadow pass in the tall grass around us, we were certifiably ready for bed. I was tapped out, and there was absolutely, positively, definitely nothing left to do. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! If there had been, surely it would have been nagging me constantly these past several hours, in the form of an unending System notification! I sighed, curled up on a bed of dirt, as close to the fire as possible. I wasn¡¯t cold, but, well, being near the Kaugs and under an occasional passing mist was making me a bit feverish. That or it was the psychosomatic effects of having done so dang much earlier. Reed was sitting on the other side of the flames, whittling. With her head and eyelids sagging, she looked about to nod off on the spot. Sorry as usual that she hadn¡¯t brought me more personalized camping accessories, she had loaned me her coat to wrap myself in. The one with the fluffy collar. Nuzzling against the cotton could only take my mind off of Evolving for so long. It turned out there was a reason those notifications were persistent. Otherwise, I¡¯d just forget about them. And that was dangerous because killer bugs kept nearly murderizing me.
Evolution Available!
Would you like to Evolve now? (Yes / No)
Yes. And if the options stayed in the middle of my field of vision for the next twenty-four indecisive hours, so be it. The same disclaimer I¡¯d read before showed up next:
You have chosen to Evolve now. This change is permanent. Once you have Evolved, you cannot go back, nor can you choose between adjacent Evolutions on your Evolution Tree. Are you sure you wish to continue?
Yes. My thoughts were calm and weary as the end of a river.
Evolution Confirmed.
Options are available: Fawn Paladin Strengths: ATK, WIS Weakness: INT Unique Trait: Heroic: Increases and prolongs buffs on all party members. An all-in fighter, this hybrid cat merges high offensive Stats with solid defenses and a mixture of close- and mid-range holy magic.
Calico Ranger Strengths: ATK, SPD Weaknesses: INT Unique Trait: Mapmaker: Tracking, striking, and retreating unseen, this predator makes up for a lack of strong ranged options with powerful surveillance.
Tortoiseshell Eccentric Strengths: Balanced Weaknesses: None Unique Trait: Copycat: Absorb the energy of terrain or a defeated foe to learn a new Skill or boost an existing one. Learning new abilities from everyone and everything, this collector truly feels that the world is their playground.
Ooh. I was excited again now. These were starting to get really good. It seemed like last time, I was getting basic Evolutions¡ªthe warrior, the mage, the medic¡ªbut now it was advanced stuff. Moreover, it was wacky stuff. To be fair, the first one was another flavor of magician, but I mean, one of them was literally called the ¡°eccentric.¡± How could I not love that? But this wasn¡¯t all about loving my Evolution, really. It was about choosing what was best for me, what would serve me and Reed best right now. ¡­Wait, where did that feeling come from? I looked over at Reed. She wasn¡¯t my¡­owner or anything. She just coexisted with me sometimes, and we also cohabitated. We were friends. I knew that now, and I liked it. But¡­choosing a form for her? It was partly true, though: I didn¡¯t just exist for myself. I didn¡¯t just exist for the whims of Sierra. I was here for Reed now too. I was here for Chora and Bayce. I had a home, one that wasn¡¯t just marked by scent and trespassed on by every animal in the woods. And it was our home, one that I was¡­not exactly making any better, I guessed, but one I would defend. So whatever I¡¯d choose, I¡¯d choose for all of us. Wow¡­ I guessed that was what it felt like to have a family responsibility. Or a friend responsibility. Same thing¡ªI didn¡¯t have any of that on Earth. I wasn¡¯t always alone there, but I was sometimes betrayed, always left behind. If a fellow cat was injured or a cat didn¡¯t agree with the ones in charge, why not leave them for dead? Almost nobody had stuck their neck out for me, and I had shunned them in turn. But now I could tell that on Vencia our feelings were mutual, that all four of us would stick our necks out for each other if we had to, maybe break our backs for each other. Even Bayce for Chora and Chora for Bayce. So with that in mind, here were my choices reframed: I could be the magical heroine, boosting the boosts on any number of us as long as we were in the same party. I could be the hunter, reaffirming my natural instincts while also putting my Map to greater use. I could be the self-determining weirdo, studying this forest to min-max myself for all I was worth. ¡­okay, Tortoiseshell Eccentric sounded amazing the first time, but now it seemed totally opposed to my style. This decision was getting kind of scary¡­ Wait. Just calm down, Taipha. These are all good choices. They wouldn¡¯t be here if they weren¡¯t. There¡¯s no ¡°gotcha¡± trying to test you here. There¡¯s nothing that will revert the progress you¡¯ve already made. You will always be powerful, I told myself. And with that, I realized which option my heart was most drawn to. Every option could be of service to my new family. This one would just be the most¡­delightful. Across from me and a twiggy, cooling fire, Reed had pulled out a pillow and a thin mauve blanket, bundled up right there on the dirt. I blinked at her, but she didn¡¯t see it. She was already asleep, the blanket rising and falling slowly with her breath. I made my choice when I was certain she was totally fast asleep. As I glowed and metamorphosized, I actually chuckled to myself. With impish glee, I imagined the surprise on her waking face¡ªand then, of course, the welcoming acceptance. I was lucky I could count on her for that. The Evolution swept over me, and then, content, I fell asleep. 83. Sun on the Meridian Reed was always somewhat slow to get up, slow to start and slow to stop, but deep down she was a morning person. This time she woke up with the distinct impression of dewdrops on her face and a pressure on her chest. The air was humid and hazy, only barely livened up by the rising sun¡¯s heat. The fire had withered away in the night. There lay the shape of the cat spirit¡¯s body in front of her, underneath the same coat. Reed had considered sharing her mauve blanket, truth be told, but she hadn¡¯t wanted to make things awkward. Now she was paying for that mistake, because her friend wasn¡¯t a cat right now. She had thoroughly changed, the coat only vaguely covering her legs, and her body now stretched across the old fire. Her arms, tanned and slender, were coiled up against Reed¡¯s chest so that the wrists nearly grazed Reed¡¯s chin. Her head sat atop her upper arms, leaning, and her mouth had dropped open, just barely, to show two sharp little teeth. So had her eyelids, revealing strips of white and tinges of gold. Hair streamed down over her dew-tipped face. Now it was white, speckled with black and orange. So were the ears that stuck out at angles like antennae. Reed ran her eyes across the fine fur of her ears, and couldn¡¯t resist reaching over. Just a little¡­just to rub it a little. That won¡¯t wake her up. Reed had always been curious about those ears. She gave the highest ear a graze with her knuckle. The ear twitched, but the humanlike cat looked totally untroubled. Reed whispered out a laugh. She reached out again, but this time just to trace the very tip of her finger around the edge of the ear. How lightly could she touch it? How much until it flinched again? Playing these lazy games with her ear had her getting up even later than usual. A thoroughly enjoyable morning. *** ¡°Mreep!¡± As I startled awake, I made my weirdest sound on record and involuntarily nipped the air right in front of me. What I saw gave me another jolt. Ack! Reed¡¯s face is right there all of a sudden! And she¡¯s awake! So she saw that!! Okay, but more importantly¡­what just startled me awake?! I went on the alert, head twitching, my eyes shooting this way, that way. Reed snickered, right in my face. It was, after all, about two centimeters away from mine at this point. Her squinchy eyes lit up with early-morning tears. For an instant, my concern and confusion melted away from me. Ah, her pure-hearted laughter. Too innocent to realize I had just been awakened by a potential threat. I had the sudden urge to rub my ears¡­ Hm. They felt different somehow. Maybe something had shaved some HP off of that.
HP 100% (570/570)
SP 94% (485/515)
Oh my gosh! Some new kind of foe had just blown through and taken 30 SP from me¡ªI didn¡¯t know that kind of Skill was even possi¡ª Nope, never mind, my fleshy head was lying on top of my fleshy arms. I realized with a third jolt that my nekomata face had contorted into a grimace. A grimace of confusion and surprise. Huh, so expressions like that really were automatic¡­? The fourth jolt came when I realized Reed had front-row seats to my changing face this entire time. Don¡¯t forget the fact that all along, my arms had been grazing her front. A strange warmth entered my face. I snapped my body away, straightened, and with the near-involuntaritude of a fight-or-flight response, un-Morphed. A puff of steam, and I transformed right in front of the fireplace. Either my unconscious mind had engineered an embarrassing situation for me, or the goddess overhead had engineered an embarrassing situation for me. Neither of these gave me comfort! Reed, having risen herself, snickered again. And then she started laughing harder, and shaking her head. ¡°Sorry!¡± she said between peals. ¡°I didn¡¯t know this would happen¡ªI just wanted to¡ªyour ears¡­¡± She made a grazing motion with her free hand, the one that wasn¡¯t covering her mouth. The mystery was solved in that moment. My feline eyebrows twitched. Reed was a little rapscallion! A rascal trying to rub on my ears! All along! From the very beginning, from the first time she¡¯d seen my human form¡ªno, from the first time she¡¯d seen me period¡ªhad she been planning this? Was it all a trick just to touch my¡­ I Morphed again, appearing cross-legged and practically wedged between Reed and the dead fire. Then I touched my ear. The awkwardly large appendage that wasn¡¯t even very hairy or squishy or soft. It flicked on contact. Okay, I could kind of get why that might be fun to play with, in a cat-toy kind of way¡­like jumping after a toy fish on a pole that you might never catch. Or a dragonfly. I¡¯d been automatically rubbing my ear for the last five seconds, hadn¡¯t I. Reed laughed harder, rocking forward and almost crashing into me. ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± she said desperately, though I hadn¡¯t asked, and threaded through rest of her high-pitched laughter were endless apologies and reassurances that I looked very cool, actually. I blinked, feeling flat-out overwhelmed by her laughter and streaming tears. ¡°Maow¡­¡± I considered patting her on the back, but maybe that¡¯d be awkward unless she started hacking and choking. Instead, I decided to pull back and¡­um¡­check out my Stats and Traits. There was a lot to catch up on there.
Evolution Complete!
Calico Ranger Style: Deduce and Doodle
No calico is truly a stranger in a strange land. Thanks to their cartographical powers, they are the ultimate fusion of jaguar and eight-year-old with a notepad. At the core of their adventurous spirits lies a steady calm, a promise that the world is good and a determination to fulfill that promise.
Stats
Taipha Calico Ranger
Lv. 20 EXP: 34% (1029/3000)
HP 100% (570/570)
SP 92% (500/545)
ATK 105
INT 61
DEF 74
WIS 69
SPD 86
Traits
Morph (Stage 3/5) Perfect Human Language Perfect Human Vision Inventory (Stage 3/5): Can carry up to 10 item types in a personal magical vacuum. Max quantity of each item: 9. Meat Locker (Stage 2/4): Can carry up to 5 meat types in a personal magical vacuum filled with a preservative ozone that ¡°locks in¡± freshness. Locker also reveals flavor profiles and cooking tips. Max quantity of each item: 1. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Stealth: SPD increases when alone and unseen. Mapmaker: Can track up to 3 entities on the Map using Markers. These Markers last for 72 hours or until dismissed. Can also draw on the Map, as well as change the names of Map locations and sub-locations.
These Stat gains just felt unholy. And to be honest, the changes that came with Mapmaker tickled my brain in just the right way. Leaving aside the tracking ability¡ªwhich had some obvious power behind it¡ªI had drawing on the Map. Drawing on the Map! On top of that, I found a new Skill at the bottom of my list¡­
Skills
Swipe SP Cost: 100 Leap SP Cost: 60 Catnap SP Cost: 60 Guard SP Cost: 30 Meditate SP Cost: 30 Slash SP Cost: 120 Air Cutter SP Cost: 60 Leap SP Cost: 60 Cloak Effect: User cannot be sensed by 1 living entity of their choice for 1 minute. SP Cost: 120
So I could just¡­turn totally invisible? Including ear-invisible and nose-invisible? Okay, it only hid me for one person, but again, the applications could be game-changing. If I ever found myself in a tough situation and couldn¡¯t handle a single hit, I could chain up to four Cloaks and give myself four minutes of getaway time. Using it mid-battle, I could confuse any opponent very, very deeply. And if the mood ever struck me, I could prank the cabin something fierce. Were there ways to counter the new Skill? Yeah, duh, there had to be. Hiding the cat doesn¡¯t hide their footprints, and there was a high chance that Vencian magic could sniff me out. But the average squirrel would need to step up to get on my level. But my more immediate concern¡ªas I retreated away from Reed and gnawed on a slab of precooked Nova Bull bacon (I know bulls aren¡¯t pigs, that¡¯s what my Meat Locker called it, shut up), and Reed set her back against a rock and gnawed on mixed meat and grits¡ªwas messing around with my Map. No longer did I have to wait for some future cantrip to present me with passable hand-eye coordination¡ªinwardly, I could do that myself. I could take my Map and doodle all over it! And that¡¯s what I did immediately. ¡­My mind-eye coordination wasn¡¯t the best either, apparently. Well, whatever. I¡¯d get better eventua¡ªhold on! The Trait had said I could ¡°draw on the Map,¡± but it didn¡¯t mention anything about erasing! What if I was¡­stuck with this? A prison of my own making?! Delete Map¡ªI mean DELETE MAP DOODLES! Bloop. Oh. That solved it. If you believe it hard enough, you might just achieve it. What if I just imagined the idea of a certain shape appearing riiight¡­there? Perfect! A little book with a bug head on it appeared in the Kaugs, slightly southwest of DeGalle¡¯s camp. This was amazing. I mean, I knew this was just the same kind of thing my System did on its own for me, putting rabbit icons and tree icons and stuff wherever it felt like it. But there was a key difference now: I could do it myself. And my choices for Map names would be way better. Map names? ¡­Map locations?
The Vencian Wood Explored: 37% (11/30) Locations with question marks in the default name are Unexplored. Locations: S.A1: Beacon Mountain A massive, low-rising mountain pockmarked with caves and wolves. Sub-Location: The Beacon S.A2: Memorial Grove A dense copse teeming with squirrels. Feature: ¡°CAT¡± War Memorial (Quest Attached) S.A3: Drippy Flats A valley whose watering holes grow and connect after heavy rain. S.A4: ??? S.A5: The Kaugs Slender, jagged mountains that capture cold mist and send back bitter rains to the rest of the wood. Sub-Location: DeGalle¡¯s Camp S.B1: Rust Point More info needed. S.B2: Mirror Pond West This pond, known as the Clantisere to locals, is framed in the west by pines and Beacon Mountain¡¯s rise. Sub-Location: Treasure Rockfall (Quest Attached) S.B3: Maggie Rocks A forest pass keenly watched by raccoons and magpies. Sub-Location: Lycanborn Mansion S.B4: ??? S.B5: Sunbull Field A dry savannah made temperate, and occasionally waterlogged, by the Kaugs to their west. S.C1: ??? S.C2: Mirror Pond East This pond, known as the Clantisere to locals, is edged in the east by oaks and plains. S.C3: Taipha¡¯s Home Base A loamy patch of woodland. Sub-Locations: Reed¡¯s Cabin, Taipha¡¯s Tree S.C4: Stag Swamp Picturesque forest interspersed with open, sun-kissed plain. S.C5: Gackern Swallows Fragile earth and mud give way to water filmy with algae. S.D1: ??? S.D2: Stinger Field A field lush with sumptuous flowers which stay in bloom well into autumn. S.D3: Rabbitfoot Plains Rolling hills broken up by groundhog dens and the rare tree. S.D4: Camera Crossing More info needed. Edit options available.
What? I had all this information inside my headzone this entire time, descriptions and all? Was it unlocked when I Evolved, or was it just¡­in here sitting behind a keyword?! How did I never know that?! Why didn¡¯t anybody (or one very specific body) ever clue me in?!
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
See, this is why most deities prefer to reincarnate humans or humanlike beings. They¡¯re not only extremely curious, but very into experimentation. Oh, and they¡¯re like the progenitors of complex verbal language, so that¡¯s an obvious boon when you¡¯re working with Systems with linguistic foundations.
I got about halfway through reading that before wishing Sierra had said that out loud, so I could interrupt her. What is your point.
That a moderately clever human would¡¯ve tried lots of codewords by now! And they probably would¡¯ve outlined this whole plan for exploring the whole Wood¡­and exploited the village of Outlast to develop a pipeline for getting superior Equipment and crafting resources delivered right to their door.
That sounds like a lot of work¡­and really boring.
It tickles someone¡¯s brain the right way. But if I¡¯d have wanted or expected you to do it, I wouldn¡¯t have made you like this.
¡­That weirdly meant a lot to me. It made me feel like I was doing okay. Good thing Sierra couldn¡¯t read all my thoughts¡­is what I told myself with frantic desperation.
Ah! Your gratitude! Thank you for the early Mother¡¯s Day gift!
I squinched my eyes shut. Error: Taipha, Cat of Cats, is currently unavailable. Don¡¯t call back, she doesn¡¯t have a phone. After that digression, I turned my attention back to the Map and all its boundless options. Giddiness welled up in me again. When Sierra¡¯s last dialogue box disappeared, the Map Locations menu still remained. I looked back at the bottom. Edit options available? Edit Sunbull Field. There was only one tweak I could make, and it was downright incredible:
Change name of Sunbull Field?
Yes! Yes!! From this day forward, I¡¯d be metaphorically rubbing my scent all over this Map!!! Actually, ¡°Sunbull Field¡± was a pretty awesome name¡­hmmmm¡­ L-let¡¯s choose another one!
Change name of Mirror Pond West?
Yeah! Okay, I had an actual good one for this. I¡¯d rename it to ¡°The Pond of the Sapphire Queen¡±! Although¡­it had taken me this long to realize that that title would describe Bayce too. Maybe she was more purple? A dark queen? Or just a threatening queen? Thunder queen? Bug queen? Sister of shadow??? Okay, back up. Maybe it was a bad idea to make the name too elaborate and too cool. I didn¡¯t want to accord a potential supervillain that much respect. So ¡°Thunder Queen¡± and stuff like that was out. At the same time, I didn¡¯t want some crap like ¡°Nasty Bug Queen¡± on my Map forever. So I¡¯d go with ¡°Pond of the Queen of the Night¡±! No, ¡°Pond of the Night Queen¡±! I locked in my answer.
Name changed from ¡°Mirror Pond East¡± to ¡°Pond of the Night Queen East.¡±
Name changed from ¡°Mirror Pond West¡± to ¡°Pond of the Night Queen West.¡±
Cool.
Change name of Stag Swamp?
Yeah¡­there was something about that name that grossed me out.
Name changed from ¡°Stag Swamp¡± to ¡°Cheelic¡¯s Domain.¡±
Now we¡¯re living in a fantasy novel!
Name changed from ¡°Camera Crossing¡± to ¡°Place with the Confused Photographers.¡±
Name changed from ¡°Taipha¡¯s Tree¡± to ¡°Rival Clubhouse.¡±
Name changed from ¡°Drippy Flats¡± to ¡°Savannah of Future Victory.¡±
Name changed from ¡°Rival Clubhouse¡± to ¡°Destroy this at Level 30.¡±
Name changed from ¡°Memorial Grove¡± to ¡°SQUIRREL REMATCH.¡±
Heh. This was outlandishly fun. And increasingly useless, but it pepped me up. I was going through one of those phases again¡ªhyped to Level Up and get stronger. Hyped to be ready for anything. 84. Doodles with Purpose The Mapmaker Trait came with an ability I had yet to explore¡ªnot that I yet had a chance to. I could track anything on my Map for up to three days! And follow it around, chasing some kind of a little line or dot! I¡¯d be like a submarine, except above water, not metal, and otherwise totally different¡­except for the radar, that was the main part! All this time, Reed¡ªafter recovering from her weird laughter¡ªhad been noshing on food out of her Inventory, and from time to time she had picked up a whittling project and held it at different angles in the sun. While I appreciated the alone time she had afforded me the moment I, um, probably started staring off into nothingness with a glazed look in my eyes, I also knew that part of the reason she had drifted off to do her own thing was because we could only handle so much awkward silence. And only so much of her speaking to, essentially, a wall. A wall that meowed. But I wouldn¡¯t, I couldn¡¯t abandon her for long. After changing some location names around, I figured I¡¯d test the real heart of my new changes the next time I was in a state to hunt. For now, though, we hadn¡¯t really finished out breakfast, and I had only eaten a third of my beef-bacon slab. But really I felt too excited to go on eating. I joined Reed on top of her rock¡ªthere was room enough for us both. She looked me over thoughtfully, her eyes lingering on every spot and speckle that now covered me from head to foot. When those eyes lingered a bit longer, I stretched and turned to show more. Then she set her bowl down, swallowed down a bite, and made a hesitant gesture at my front paws. U-uh, well, I guessed I could show those off¡­ Finally, a body part it made sense to be flustered about. My paws are among the most sensitive, important, fragile parts of my body. They¡¯re attached to my flimsy legs¡ªliterally twigs. And they¡¯re extremely soft and pliant. Sometimes I¡¯d think back to a certain night in the cabin and think, I really am walking on sticks with marshmallows at the ends. I knew from experience that humans loved, loved to handle cat and dog paws. They loved shaking hands with them. They loved squeezing them to death. I was confident Reed wouldn¡¯t squeeze mine to death. I mean, Bayce might. But Reed wouldn¡¯t. So I made sure my claws were retracted and carefully lifted a paw to her. I showed her the back, then the pad of it. Reed gasped a little. Staring intently, she murmured, ¡°The pattern even goes onto your paw pad. It¡¯s beautiful.¡± Then she looked in my face. ¡°It¡¯s all beautiful.¡± I didn¡¯t give her any sounds of affirmation, hoping just my patient face and my calm, slowly waving tail would be enough. Seconds passed in charmed silence, a scene that couldn¡¯t last forever. I broke the soap-bubble moment with a new gesture. With my other paw, I pointed back and forth to my mouth. Then I wiggled that paw back and forth. Like a worm, but I was hoping it conveyed the surface of water. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± she said. ¡°I made too many assumptions about the food and drinks you would bring for yourself.¡± Y-y¡­yeah, she was right. Like Sierra was saying, if I¡¯d been a human reincarnated here, I would¡¯ve spectacularly engineered a way to always have water on hand by now. But, thinking about it now, how would I even do that? Cups and bowls didn¡¯t just grow in the wild. I¡¯d have to, what, borrow them from the cabin? Or make a simple bowl myself by Slashing a big-enough rock?! Um¡­actually, those were both totally reasonable solutions. Me not bringing drinking water instead of, like, an unused relic sword everywhere was a huge oversight. But if I was interpreting Sierra¡¯s words from earlier correctly, it was an oversight I was totally meant to make! That¡¯s a joke. But only halfway. ¡°And,¡± Reed went on, ¡°I should have made it totally clear that you¡¯re free to borrow anything you like from the pantry and closet. We have shallow bowls, spare canteens¡­¡± I had to shake my head at myself. You have no excuse, Taipha. Well, since we were kind of far out from the water pump and all, Reed took pity on me and let me drink from her canteen. A clumsy process, because she didn¡¯t want cat-mouth or nekomata-mouth on her canteen. She ¡°waterfalled it¡± above me (her words, not mine) and I, to get the maximum amount of mouth surface area possible, Morphed. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Most of the water missed. That¡¯s all I¡¯ll say about that. As Reed produced an amazing string of apologies, I held up my hands and helpfully assured her, ¡°Meow! Meow!¡± At any rate, once I¡¯d Morphed back (hoping my shirt would dry in the void where un-Morphed clothes go), and once Reed dusted herself off, we discovered that all this food and water had reactivated our brains at last. We could start the day! ¡°Hm¡­¡± Reed said, her mouth warming up for coherent speech. ¡°You¡¯d like to go straight back to the cabin, right?¡± ¡°Meow.¡± ¡°So would I, so that works out perfectly!¡± She tapped a finger against the rock in thought. ¡°Since we¡¯re heading back on the road again, it would be prudent to do that thing I talked about¡­to have some way of communicating so we know how to approach battles.¡± ¡°Meow¡­¡± I didn¡¯t feel too sure about this because our ways of communicating were, in so many ways, fundamentally different. Body movements, quieter sounds, and certain scents were all out of her range, and while a cat¡¯s meow is capable of more variation than you¡¯d think, human ears aren¡¯t trained to listen for everything it can do. Besides, I wasn¡¯t a linguist¡ªI couldn¡¯t get that creative or efficient with it. Maybe ¡°mrow¡± would mean there¡¯s a bird ahead and ¡°mrow-w¡± would mean there¡¯s two birds, but¡­what if there were like¡­ten? ¡°We can make one sound when we want the other person to follow, and another sound when we want them to stay put,¡± Reed said. Oh! Oh, okay, that worked too. ¡°Does that sound good?¡± Of course it did! I nodded. ¡°And we can have another set of sounds, too, basic things like ¡®danger,¡¯ ¡®weak opponent,¡¯ or ¡®rough terrain,¡¯ so we¡¯ll know what to expect.¡± ¡°¡­Meow!¡± Simple but brilliant! In fact, almost too obvious in hindsight!! ¡°And since obviously we don¡¯t have the same kinds of vocal cords¡ªwell, most of the time,¡± Reed continued, ¡°we¡¯ll probably have to use different sounds, but agree that they mean the same thing.¡± ¡°Meow! Meow!!¡± We spent a surprisingly long time deciding on which terms to use, and not just because Reed was also chewing and swigging canteen water. At first Reed insisted she¡¯d be doing whistles¡ª¡°those strong, crisp whistles where you stick your fingers in your mouth first¡±¡ªbut after many attempts, all she could attempt was a pathetic, withering high note. I didn¡¯t laugh, but only because I didn¡¯t have the ability to laugh at the time. Anyway, she abandoned this plan and went for short whoops and cries instead, sounds that could be loud or low, sounds that traveled far and fast. On my end, I gave several permutations of ¡°meow,¡± ¡°mraow,¡± ¡°maow,¡± and ¡°mrrrow,¡± but somehow Reed mixed a lot of them up. To make sure she¡¯d be able to tell them apart in the heat of the moment, I had to focus on speed, tone, and repetition. So in the end, yeah, it was surprisingly close to my original idea, in that it relied on repetition. ¡°Meow¡± meant one thing and ¡°meow meow¡± meant more of that thing, to oversimplify it. First we settled on sounds for ¡°follow me¡± and ¡°stay put.¡± Those were clearly the most important, since I was always dashing off at a moment¡¯s notice and I wouldn¡¯t have been in favor of a leash. Next we pinned down ¡°high danger,¡± ¡°low danger,¡± ¡°lots of enemies,¡± and ¡°one or a few enemies.¡± The third set of sounds was for terrain¡ªwe didn¡¯t go into many specific types, but we made sure to add ¡°tight squeeze¡± (for stuff like pits and boulders) and ¡°horrible patches of bog water¡± to that collection. Lastly, we made a sound for ¡°all clear,¡± the assurance that whatever the situation was, it was over and we could get back to adventuring. Studiously, Reed wrote it all down. And although Reed confirmed with me that I couldn¡¯t read the page, I still insisted on staring at it for minutes and minutes on end. She must¡¯ve been confused, but there was no explaining it: I was copying the vocabulary down on the side of my Map. While copying it was agonizing now¡ªbecause I wasn¡¯t copying words, I was copying several series of illegible symbols broken up with the letters that spelled ¡°cat¡±¡ªI¡¯d have no trouble reading it once I had that reading cantrip. Or¡­maybe I would. Because when I looked over the full results after ten whole minutes of staring, it looked like¡­a car crash. Not even three-year-olds wrote this poorly. Except for the c¡¯s, a¡¯s, and t¡¯s. Those were killer. Oh, wait! Cats could experiment too! Mapmaker, move my latest notes to a new piece of mental scrap paper!
Latest notes have been moved to a new untitled document. Would you like to rename Untitled?
What? Wait, am I renaming the new page? Uh, yeah, sure.
¡°Untitled¡± renamed to ¡°Reed¡¯s Tag Team Hunting Calls.¡±
Decent! And obviously, if my mindwriting truly was irredeemably bad, I¡¯d make a new document at home. I could dedicate some slices of time back home to memorizing all of them. Reed, too, because no way she¡¯d been able to internalize them all. But I did retain what we agreed were the most vital ones: ¡°follow me,¡± ¡°stay put,¡± ¡°high danger,¡± and ¡°all clear.¡± Then Reed sighed with the satisfaction of a job worth doing and took a long drink from her canteen. ¡°Well, are you ready to head out?¡± she asked. I sighed myself, and yearned for the water pump, because I refused to ¡°waterfall¡± more resources from Reed. Because it was just nowhere near as cool as it sounded. With that, we went back on the trail, our sights set on a mellower kind of adventure. 85. Hairbirds A robin winged their way onto the tip of a stalk of wheat. I snatched at them. In the critical moment, the robin flew off, and all I had to show for it was a bit of feather on one set of claws. I was more agile now, for sure, but¡­still I couldn¡¯t fly. Were there some things a cat was never destined to beat? Heck no. I wasn¡¯t gonna be beaten for long. I had a Map! I had the power to track! Track that robin!
Tracking marker applied. Time remaining: 72 hours Markers remaining: 2
Neat! I¡¯d just tagged the bird and, if I wanted to, I could follow their route in real time! For now they were in plain sight¡ªshrinking northward into the distance¡ªbut soon this would become invaluably useful! ¡­Wait¡­how much Experience did I even get from robins? Maybe there was better prey. Or a better target to have a friendly sparring match with. I calmed down my bloodlust a little, remembering that a fight gone too far could become grisly. With new powers and Stats at my disposal, I was hungry for battle, in go-time mode. At the same time, I was in literal go-time, let¡¯s-get-home-already mode. Reed was watching me curiously from the path as I waited in the wafting wheat. I was mulling things over, caught in my own indecision. Not realizing I was also making her wait. ¡°Uhh,¡± Reed said, ¡°we can¡­we can find more birds, and probably even stronger ones, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re into¡­¡± What? How did she guess?! Or maybe my thirst for adventure and advancement was that obvious¡­ In any case, I turned around with a defeated sigh and rejoined her. We continued jogging, not walking, back to Reed¡¯s cabin. The chance that we¡¯d be dead tired at the end of the trip was no issue for us¡ªwe¡¯d be collapsing into cozy beds and sofas anyway. I wondered where the cattle from our last trip through had gone¡­and just then, I saw a turning horn flash from between tall grasses. Out of respect for the meat they¡¯d already given us, their enormous strength, and most of all Reed¡¯s SP, however, I figured we¡¯d better venture on. Maybe I should try tracking a herd of cattle, instead of a piddly, familiar, no doubt low-Level robi¡ª Woah, what the heck was that?! Turn around, Reed! I caught myself thinking, but I didn¡¯t know enough. So I didn¡¯t make a sound. I¡¯d frozen in place, my gaze stuck on a rustling patch of grass very close by. Had I seen a ghost? A baby bear? A¡­what? Reed stopped and grabbed her weapon¡ªI heard the soft sound of her hand gripping the scabbard. We breathed, and I stared. I couldn¡¯t see that strange shape anymore. I decided I¡¯d go after it. I gave Reed the ¡°meow¡± that meant ¡°stay put,¡± along with a nod to help reassure her that I¡¯d be alright. Reed nodded back, looking as stern as a guard. Clearly she was ready to jump in and strike if I decided I needed it. Good Reed. Then I strode forward into the grass¡ªand used my new Skill, Cloak.
SP 68% (369/545)
Now, this was exciting. I would¡¯ve killed to have this ability on Earth¡ªI think anyone would. Invisibility across every sense? That was so cheap it was practically unfair! And unlike with the power of that spicy-looking Tortoiseshell Eccentric I could¡¯ve Evolved into, I didn¡¯t have to study terrain types or anything to get it! But on the outside, I didn¡¯t lose my head. Even though I knew I couldn¡¯t be seen by my specific target (I¡¯d had the rustling shape centered in my mind as I used the Skill), I wasn¡¯t fool enough not to realize that by walking through this grass, I was leaving extremely detectable pathways. Plus, other animals could detect me just fine. While I went fast, I also tried to move with the soft wind blowing. Did my footsteps match the flow of the grass completely? Absolutely not, but I could trick other animals for a vital half-second. The strategy I had in mind reminded me of darting rabbits, or even zebra hides: when camouflage fails, try confusion. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. What I¡¯d seen was a blur, hairy and wheat-colored. Fast, but not totally gone just yet. Probably resting. I was counting on the chance that it was resting. As I moved, I felt my Speed Stat hitch up. Ah, I forgot that my old Ash Heather Trait was still in that menu! I didn¡¯t need it right now, but as usual, it was nice to have some biofeedback telling me I was doing a good job being stealthy. I modulated my pace and kept it low.
Cloak is no longer active.
Shoot. I¡¯d lost track of time there. Well, I didn¡¯t mind activating the Skill again. Though the 120 SP cost was painfully high, the stakes were comfortingly low. I set off another Cloak.
SP 46% (249/545)
Then, concentrating, I picked up a scent. An animal¡¯s¡­another bird? Ah. The picture was getting clearer. I didn¡¯t have an encyclopedic knowledge of Earth animals, but I could safely say I knew as much as the average ten-year-old. I was formulating a profile of this animal, and the more pieces I gathered, the more intrigued I became. Tiny, tan, fast, distressingly hairy, with the undeniable smell of a bird. A baby ostrich? Before I knew it, I came face-to-face with the creature¡¯s eyeball. I was about a meter away, but given that I was going for stealth, it felt too close for any comfort, unimaginably close. The animal was resting in the stern way some animals do: head held up, eyes forward, breathing stiff and steady. Always a fraction of a second away from bolting if the need arose. Yes! The creature looked just like a little hairy tan ostrich! Since they were so fast¡ªpossibly faster than the robin in flight, based on the brief snippet of dashing I¡¯d seen¡ªI knew I would have to handle this strategically. Strategically, my mind repeated, mulling it over. So, like¡­a Leap with a Swipe? No! I replied to myself. A Leap with a¡­Slash? Is this seriously all I can come up with? After all this time?! No way! I was better than this¡ªI¡¯d hit my third form, for goodness¡¯ sake! I was a hunter, and I would use a hunter¡¯s strategies. Since I didn¡¯t know what this foe was capable of, I knew it was smartest to track them. Hunters tweaked their approach based on the prey, based on their needs. If you don¡¯t know the prey, you watch.
Tracking marker applied. Time remaining: 72 hours Markers remaining: 1
Good thing there was no SP cost to anything regarding the Map. I could manipulate it far more easily than a human hunter could doodle on their own. After long seconds of stillness, the little ostrich finally moved. With their wormy neck, they raised their head. This was concerning. Had I gotten too sucked into watching just this single animal? Were they hearing some commotion I wasn¡¯t? Then the bird did something I should¡¯ve predicted as soon as I got there. They ran. Going from a standstill (or a sit-still) to top speed in a flash. And when they did it, they ran right into me. The hairy ostrich bowled me over. Their frantic legs and sharp little claws kicked into my flesh, got sand on the tongue of my furious open mouth, and then¡ªhurried off. If the bird had been in any way frightened or disturbed by running into a veritable ghost, they hadn¡¯t let that get in the way of fleeing the scene.
Cloak is no longer active.
Oh, come on! In one sense, this was the perfect time to lose my Cloak¡ªmy cover had been blown anyway. But man, wasn¡¯t that just adding insult to injury? Hadn¡¯t I lost enough just now?! I rolled myself upright, licking the gritty dirt off my fur with a vengeance. Then, realizing my tongue was now covered in dirt, I pawed the sand off my tongue. Then I realized that was a terrible idea, because all of my paws, and indeed every inch of my body, were still way too dirty. Deliriously, I wrung my mouth around a bunch of grass stalks and twisted my skull back and forth around it¡ªjust anything to get out this taste of defeat. I¡¯d apparently forgotten about all that ¡°act like a hunter¡± stuff. The feeling of failure was frustrating and overwhelming. In a moment, though, my thoughts came back down to earth. I hadn¡¯t lost. And I¡¯d prepared for this. If anything, I¡¯d gotten my first shot in by sticking a mental tracker onto my prey. I had information on the bird¡ªthe bird had nothing on me. Besides a few negligible points of damage and potentially lasting trauma, but that was hopefully besides the point. In two moments, though, a different, scarier thought not only brought me down to earth, but wrestled and pinned me. What was the bird running from? ¡­Oh gosh, was it the raccoons? No¡­no, please, not yet! I wasn¡¯t ready for them! I wasn¡¯t high-Levelled enough! What kinds of natural steroids had they gobbled up to have enough confidence to stage a raid on the bulls?! There was a very good reason why I¡¯d told myself to tackle the raccoon tree at Level 30, minimum! A dark rumble shook the ground. Was that the first sign of a stampede? ¡°Mra-a-aow!¡± I cried, raising my head in the air like a howling wolf. I was telling Reed, ¡°Follow me!¡± After that, I added a low, rambling note that I remembered meant, ¡°High danger!¡± ¡°Roger¡±! I thought with sudden desperation. We forgot to make sounds for ¡°roger¡±! How would I know if Reed got my message?! But wasn¡¯t I overreacting? I listened out for a plain-spoken ¡°got it,¡± or a standard whoop, or something like that. Yet I heard nothing. In fairness, the scene around me changed in a flash, and became far denser with noise. A couple more tiny ostriches darted past me. Their hearts were surely pounding as frantically as mine, though concealed under their stoic faces and unswerving paths. I was only just now getting to my feet¡ª As a wave of flame rolled over the grass. What was this, some sort of seismic quake-inferno? What could possibly be causing it?! Finally I started running, going in no particular direction besides away. 86. Blazing World As smoke and fire started jumping on the horizon, on the sea of dry grass and wheat, I kept meowing to Reed, letting her know my location and trusting that she would come find me. I¡¯d lost my sense of direction in the tumult, so if I wanted to go back the way I¡¯d come, to the road, I¡¯d have to work for it. With the oppressive heat sizzling away grass stalks¡ªso close I could hear the individual pops and snaps, so close I could nearly feel flames lashing across my back¡ªI thought of nothing besides how to escape. Holy crap. As I galloped full-speed and my hind legs snapped forward and back under me, I realized that their toes were charred. The fire was literally on my toes. Go faster. Leap!
SP 35% (189/545)
I sprang for it. Hurtling through the changed, burning air, I felt a little miraculous¡ªI was flying farther and faster than my Leaps had ever taken me before. That split second of seeming to fly above the grass, above the quaking earth, and best of all beyond the grasp of the flame, made me feel very, very alive. I happened to look over my shoulder at that moment¡­ ¡­and see, behind the flame tide, what I can only call a ¡°flying stampede¡± of hell marmots¡­ The sight surprised me so much that I landed wrong and cartwheeled. Fortunately, I didn¡¯t miss a beat. I was running as desperately as an antelope from lions. Yet I had a feeling I should prepare for the worst, so to protect myself a little from the flames, I activated Meditate. A certain calmness washed over me. Time almost slowed. I was still bolting, hot, and totally unsure of the outcome of this, but now I had¡­clarity. I was mentally fortified, and I¡¯d forgotten how refreshing that could feel. I even had some fresh insight. There were two directions I could go with this: a smart escape or a smart attack. First, the smart escape. While Leaping above the grass, I had, of course, gotten a quick view of the world around me. It wasn¡¯t exactly a panorama¡ªwith the time I spent airborne, I¡¯d gotten a one-eighty, not a three-sixty¡ªbut I knew which direction the road was in. Second, the smart attack. I didn¡¯t have to just run and Leap. I could stand my ground. Especially now that I knew the rolling flames were a fairly small sheet of fire pushed along by a few dozen rodents. For that matter, my Leap had proven strong enough that I could turn tail and Leap over the flames, and toward what looked like small fry coasting on their decent Intelligence. After all, I had just Evolved. I dunno, after the krigries, any other small fry just looked smaller. That wasn¡¯t necessarily smarter than safety, but it did have this marked advantage: it would prepare me well for future battles. A big bunch of Experience was flying right for me. Again, the stakes weren¡¯t all that high. If hell marmots were a serious threat, Reed would have shown fear the first morning we¡¯d spotted one. All of a sudden, a new image crashed into my vision: Reed¡¯s skidding foot. We stopped just short of banging into each other. Her presence made the decision for me¡ªI backflip-Leaped. Man, I wish I¡¯d been there to see it. As in, there and simultaneously not myself. I pushed off, past Reed¡¯s breathless face, and did what felt like a perfect pivot in the air, turning with maximum efficiency toward a cloud of foes. I Leaped straight over the flames, bending my body like an athlete over the bar, getting as high as possible so the tallest tendrils of the stinging flames couldn¡¯t reach. Then I landed on a hell marmot¡¯s face and held fast. I tore into them with my fangs and claws. This time, I showed no mercy. From my perspective, and a wild perspective, these marmots had advanced on the wrong bunch of animals and were lucky they hadn¡¯t bumped into any aggressive adult ostriches when they blazed the place. Conserving SP, I relied on raw power. The marmot shrieked, and sure enough, it was soon poofed away into my Meat Locker. The freeze frame that followed was beautiful. A cat hovered in the air, paws hunched around a marmot-shaped space, mouth snarling, eyes whirling. Below was a curtain of fire casting a bizarre orange glare on the underside of everything. Above: the totally blue sky. From every other direction: marmots. Roused into fury. Snapping their teeth. Charging. What did I do when I caught myself hovering, for just the slightest moment, surrounded by enemies and a literal floor of fire? My mind, jumbled, went off in two different directions. Half of it said to attack the nearest marmot and the other half said to keep fleeing, to rocket off as far as I could to get safely on the other end of this flaming steamroller. What I ended up doing was Leaping off my own front paws. Yes, I set my back paws on the only floorboard present and bounded off of them. Which kinda hurt, and made me sort of spin in midair before I began hurtling back down, right into those flames. But I didn¡¯t fall because a pack of hell marmots had their way with me. Pesky front teeth jammed into my back. AGH! G-Guard! Meditate!
DEF 111 (+50%)
WIS 138 (+100%)
This was the first time I¡¯d used both in such quick succession. A sharp ache hit me through the head¡ªnot a blow from a marmot, but the strain of having used defensive magic like this. Oh, but there was an actual pain in my head too. And my hip and my shoulder and my paws and soon it¡¯d be my throat if I didn¡¯t curl up into a better defensive position. The marmots were all over me, keeping me aloft with their bat wings just so they could continue to massacre me in an uncharred state. They were horribly, terribly¡­okay they didn¡¯t actually hurt that bad. Compared to even the krigries, all their assaults were piddly claws, vaguely sharpened buck teeth, and the occasional forehead horn, from those who had horns. It really waws like getting attacked by airborne rats. Plus, I had three Minor Heal Spells still hanging out in the back of my Inventory! As if I needed them.
HP 78% (444/570)
SP 18% (99/545)
Would it kill this universe to have some better SP restoration? Apparently, yes. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Now that I was paying more attention to the onslaught, though, I knew the tables could turn soon. The marmots were starting to glow a hellfire-crimson, and that glow was getting brighter with every attack. This brought to mind not only the krigries, but also that squirrel that¡¯d attacked me at Memorial Grove (famous location of the CAT War Memorial for Dog-Humans). It stood to reason that if monsters attacking you were beginning to glow with the most aggressive color, they were getting stronger before your eyes. So I had to beat these creatures right here, right now! Choose a plan and stick to it, you coward! I taunted myself. That was all the firing-up I needed. At 99 SP, I was just under the amount of SP I needed to Swipe these marmots. That was criminal. But you know, if regular claws could kill one, they certainly could kill another. And another. With a mighty growl, I flashed my fangs and swatted wildly through the air, lashing out in all directions. Even if I was about to fall in that lake of fire or take a stronger blow to my unprotected heart¡ªcome what may¡ªI would go out swinging. Each swish took out a marmot or even two. I was on a roll! I¡ª Plop. Ah, yep. I finally fell into the flames. But it wasn¡¯t even that bad! Okay, I take that back, it was terrible. The pain was excruciating, and the sensation of having my flesh harden and sear and bleed and burn was¡­not something I¡¯d ever wanted to feel again in all my lives, much less over my whole entire body? What I mean was, I was getting totally immolated for multiple seconds and I survived. Only on Vencia.
HP 28% (159/570)
A Minor Heal burst free from Inventory, bathing me in a glow even more soothing and cooling than ocean waves¡­but only for an instant before fire overwhelmed it again. It helped, but only so much. Okay, if I was a real action hero, I¡¯d be crouching and waiting with my ears cocked to listen out for the moment the marmots above me lost interest, or became convinced I was dead. But for one thing, I couldn¡¯t hear anything but a bunch of fire, and that sounded like loud, crispy gargling. For another, I was on fire. The only real option was to leave already. I rolled sideways, then sprinted. My internal compass guided me behind the marmot swarm to a patch of rough dirt whose grass had been charred away already, and there I stopped and panted. I wondered frantically about Reed. Where was she? When was she going to come in clutch when I could actually see it?! Uh¡­that last part was kinda my fault. I was always more excited about testing my own powers than teaming up with Reed and, like, brainstorming combo attacks. But couldn¡¯t I benefit from more combos? Something to think about. Either way, I looked up, swiveled my ears, and heard¡­a sword clashing! Yes! I sprang straight upward on aching legs, and my pogoing showed me Reed facing off against an assortment of hairy baby ostriches, their claws echoing against the steel. Weren¡¯t they running away earlier? She must¡¯ve had bad luck or something. How else would that even happen? Well, uh, now that the hell marmots were either departing or deceased, I could make my way over and simply watch the show. That, I realized, was something I¡¯d never done with Reed: not interfere and watch her go at it. At first, I thought she was sucking. Then I remembered that she was a bit of a pacifist, when she had the option to be one. Her sword strikes were all guards, and the ostriches were bunted baseballs. Like the marmots, they too lost interest, and one by one they shrieked and scattered off. Then Reed¡¯s head swiveled. The sword was flung backward, legs crouched, and I hurtled right into Reed¡¯s arms. Yay, her secure embrace! Ow! My burned flesh! I forgot I¡¯d been immolated! Every point of contact was another nail in my nerves! Let me go, Reed! She realized this quickly. ¡°Ah, sorry,¡± she said, letting go. Then she took in my burned form for the first time, eyes wide, teeth gritted in something like terror. Oddly, I didn¡¯t feel like my body had been put through the wringer¡­not anymore, at least. That memory was increasingly distant already, and the Minor Heal must¡¯ve done more than I expected. On the surface, it had only healed 25% of my HP. But if the healing ran deeper, then¡­yeah. Magic was frighteningly good. All the same, I really should have brought a mirror. No, wait a minute¡­I should have brought water. Just gallons of water. That way, none of this would have had to happen. The ultimate irony. She shook her head. ¡°I have to stop worrying like this,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re alright. I figured you would be! It¡¯s just¡­¡± To my shock, she smirked. ¡°You daredevil.¡± She took out her canteen and a couple more Minor Heals. I refused the Heals, because¡­
EXP: 92% (2755/3000)
HP 53% (302/570)
SP 18% (99/545)
¡­I was on the threshold of another Level-Up. She gave me a wilting look and said, ¡°Alright¡­¡± Then she cracked a Minor Heal open on herself, which lifted my spirits much more than the alternative. Reed did look a little scratched up herself. ¡°Are you starting to feel better, at least?¡± ¡°Meow.¡± Then Reed took the canteen firmly in both hands. She raised it above my head. ¡°Now¡ª¡± She stopped herself. She must¡¯ve been recalling the last time I tried, and failed, to take an elegant drink. Without a word, she formed one hand into a makeshift bowl and poured a cat-mouthful of water inside with the other. I lapped it up eagerly, and the tingle of hollowness and loss I¡¯d been feeling in my spirit without even realizing it was repleniwhaaa! Wait! I stopped myself in a fit of self-consciousness. What the heck were we doing?! So me drinking out of Reed¡¯s canteen, that was taboo, but me drinking directly out of her hand was alright? My tongue nearly brushing the edges of her palm? The hand that she used for, y¡¯know, other daily-life things, but that I used to clean myself? Earth cats did this with Earth humans all the time, but¡­ B-but we weren¡¯t on Earth! And she hated germs! Was she not seeing what I was seeing?! How was this alright with her?! I would just have to unpack that later. For now, I stayed quiet and calmly lapped all of the water up. Modesty dictated that I not try to ¡°lick the bowl clean.¡± (Besides, realistically speaking, Reed¡¯s hand tasted like dirt and metal and I didn¡¯t want any more of that taste right now.) Now we could finally settle down and survey the land. We were in the middle of the ground that the hell marmots had razed. Haunting, dead land, with the smoke still rising off of it. The marmots had vanished from the sky, seemingly from this whole area, and surely there were many animal corpses littering the scorched ground. Reed apologized for not arriving sooner¡ªby the time she knew what was going on, I was already up there with the flock of marmots and she didn¡¯t know for sure how to help without either exhausting herself or accidentally slaughtering me. I shook my head fervently. Secretly, I was glad that she hadn¡¯t arrived on time, because otherwise I hadn¡¯t come so close to my next Level. Anyway, we¡¯d practice our team tactics more so we could be ready when the chips were really down. Reed explained, ¡°Now and then, hell marmots will go hunting like this, ¡®mowing the lawn,¡¯ so to speak, and laying claim to any animals caught in their wake. They actually don¡¯t feed on the corpses, only the souls that come out of them. Expect some vultures soon.¡± That was, um, both magical and deeply disturbing. Souls were actual quantifiable things in this world? I¡¯d have to unpack that idea too. Oh, no, not another thing to explode my brain with¡­ ¡°Most creatures will see it coming,¡± Reed continued, ¡°most will be able to escape, but several of the small and weak ones get caught up in the inferno. Oh,¡± she said, noting a shadowy shape rising from a nearby den, ¡°and anything that can hide in a burrow tends to be safe. There¡¯s a sense of weasel-snake-marmot solidarity.¡± We both stepped back as a weasel slithered out from the pit and, completely ignoring us, zipped off to the nearest piece of broiled meat. I hoped that the little hairy ostriches were all finding meat too¡ªwell, either meat or safety. Didn¡¯t know what those rascals ate. Then I remembered: I did have some way of figuring out what that bird was up to! Map! It looked like the robin was making their way to a whole ¡®nother neck of the woods. Even now, in real time, I could see it moving ever so slightly. The hairy bird, on the other hand, was still shuffling around in the savannah. That was a relief¡­namely because I had unofficially claimed that bird as my prey, not the marmots¡¯. Or¡­on second thought, maybe they were just my observational test subject. The bird probably had tough meat anyway¡ªand ¡°gamey,¡± as the Meat Locker would put it¡ªso if we crossed paths, I¡¯d gladly go for a friendly competition. Honestly, though, I wasn¡¯t in the mood to chase after them anymore. The 1500-ish EXP I¡¯d gotten from those marmots had been a huge jump, but I could get 250 EXP just as easily from a few minutes of fishing, and there was no rush to do that. Right now, I only wanted to go home, rest up, and pull out some books. The diary¡ªbegrudgingly¡ªbut also others. All books I would actually be able to read. 87. Wordquake Reed and I hit the swamp in no time. We made excellent progress, mainly because we kept our pace high, took shorter breaks, and went for random sprints. It was hilarious, actually. Reed would go on walking, pitifully attempting to whistle, even swinging her arms in the air, and I¡¯d be noticing how she¡¯d gotten a little too relaxed during our long trip. For the shortest moment, I¡¯d pause and steady my hind legs on the ground, and if I happened to look over at her, I¡¯d see fear and profound nausea. Then I¡¯d take off! Odds were good that Reed would wail, ¡°We just did this!¡± How could we have ¡°just done this¡± when a whole half hour yawned between the previous race and this one, Reed? By then the shadows of the trees were being cast, like, a whole centimeter further clockwise! I was relishing the chance to show off my powers in front of Reed, even if it came at the price of Reed¡¯s dignity. Her Attack was her greatest asset, and statistically it might even have been higher than mine, but she couldn¡¯t hope to top my Speed. And now that I knew these ponds and streams better, I had fun hopscotching my way across them. Much more fun than Reed did awkwardly tiptoeing above them or, worse, squelching her boots through their muck. But all that said, we both took it in stride. I even got a little Experience out of things!
EXP: 99% (2976/3000)
A comically small amount, but it counted. Laughing after our last run¡ªour longest so far¡ªReed flopped down on a mossy rock, taking a seat. I sat in the dirt facing her, but fortunately cats don¡¯t look nearly as exhausted as humans when they sit. As they say, ¡°Never let them see you sweat.¡± She talked between drinks of water. ¡°Hanging out in the forest with you is actually a lot like¡­¡± Glug¡­ ¡°Like¡­¡± Then she just froze. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t say it,¡± she snapped. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I don¡¯t know why I even brought it up.¡± I leaned in suspiciously. ¡°¡­Mreaow¡­?¡± ¡°Nope! No, you wouldn¡¯t even wanna hear it.¡± Now I had to hear it, obviously. Reed¡¯s eyes shimmered with tears, yet her mouth showed a hint of an adoring smile. ¡°Being with you is like¡­b-b-b-being with a dog.¡± ¡­What? That was it? I didn¡¯t even hate that comparison. It made sense, kind of. Dogs were known for walking humans around instead of vice versa, for their energy and willingness to play with humans. But dogs were suck-ups. I¡¯d never hunted for Reed yet, only with her¡­right? I didn¡¯t hunt those magpies for Reed to cook them, and I certainly didn¡¯t hunt all those fish for Bayce and Reed to¡­ Okay, but dogs had no self-respect. I did love playing with Reed, though¡ªthat was all too true. It had occurred to me lately that I now had a tiny ring that I could consider ¡°my humans.¡± And didn¡¯t they consider me ¡°their cat¡±? At least, wouldn¡¯t they have done that on Earth? Here in the Vencian Wood, they kept calling me ¡°cat spirit,¡± ¡°friend,¡± ¡°cat spirit friend¡±¡­all those technically flattering but weird constructions. We snacked on some leftovers, and then we were on our way. *** Oh, I shouldn¡¯t forget to mention all the stuff I battered on the journey. They were all small fry. I was more in the mood for ¡°training¡± my Speed after being nigh-traumatically burned alive, but I couldn¡¯t resist pouncing on whatever happened to be nearby.
  1. A bunch of dragonflies. You have no idea. Sometimes my impromptu sprints were just brief charges after flying bugs. I caught them without fail! But I could¡¯ve sworn they all gave zero Experience¡­either that, or a tiny, infinitesimal decimal point¡¯s worth. I also smashed a few beetles. Same thing.
  2. A single squirrel¡­well, I tried. The squirrel gave chase, and I went running after it with cheetah-like determination! Then it went up a tree. I didn¡¯t even try to follow. I mean, I knew I could climb it, but I didn¡¯t want to invest the time and effort into the unpredictable affair that is getting in and out of trees. Not as a human, not as a cat. Laugh if you must.
  3. A couple of rabbits!
  4. Some mushrooms. Fine, these weren¡¯t really moving prey, but Reed showed me some neat patches of surprisingly edible things¡ªand a species to avoid at all costs called the radiant nightcap, with a glistening top of bright lavender and sapphire. I gathered some with her and let her have them, because to me, even the edible ones weren¡¯t delicious. But hopefully they¡¯d be great in a stew, or whatever Reed wanted to do with them.
It should be no surprise to you that shortly after Reed¡¯s dog confession, I advanced.
Level Up!
Lv. 20 ¡ú Lv. 21
EXP: 0% (0/0)
HP 100% (598/598)
SP 100% (57/570)
ATK 112 (+2!)
INT 65 (+1!)
DEF 78
WIS 72
SPD 91 (+1!)
And my advancements had advanced too. Four whole Stat points gained via training?! I hoped this would be standard going forward¡ªor even increase further with my next Evolutions. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. *** After a long day of travel, we made it home under a night sky. I blipped the Map into my vision. The robin was far away, somewhere in the uncharted northeast. They¡¯d have to have booked it if they were at E2, right next to the site of the golden sword and drunken fruits. Their icon was motionless. Probably resting after their own long day. The hairy ostrich¡¯s spot, though, was wobbly and wakeful, still in Sunbull Field. It was useless but fun to keep tabs on these two¡ªalmost like keeping two primitive digital pets. Reed and I took a long, curving path around the raccoons¡¯ tree, which, if you recall, was now titled ¡°Destroy this at level 30.¡± No chances being taken here. As we got near the cabin, though, I couldn¡¯t help but notice an odd undercurrent of sound, plus a weird change in the air. I slowed myself down dramatically. Raising my head, I let my ears twitch and reorient themselves. Reed stopped by my side, obediently, and strained her eyes ahead into the trees and darkness. A few seconds later, and I still had no leads. Reed, however, came to a realization and clued me in. ¡°That must be from the cabin!¡± she said with surprise. ¡°Are you hearing something kind of industrial? Like a rumble in the ground?¡± Hm¡­ Now that she¡¯d put words to the current in the air, I had an easier time wrapping my head around it. But the label didn¡¯t sound accurate. It was more like a purring in the ground. A radiant purring, where the radiation was energy itself, an energy beyond heat¡­ What was I even saying? I felt like I was getting closer to nonsense with every new idea here. In a sudden cheerful movement, Reed swung her arms behind her back and forward, thwacking them together. The clap traveled far in the vibrating quiet. ¡°I think Bayce is up to something!¡± She giggled. ¡°She must be extremely excited about the cantrip. She started without us!¡± The realization hit like a boomerang. I wasn¡¯t just going to have this cantrip next week or next day. I was going to have it now. All along I was only looking forward to the chance to rest, refill SP, and maybe have a big meal¡ªthe rest, like books to read, could wait¡ªbut now I was jittering with anticipation! And all it took was the power of that one word ¡°cantrip.¡± I couldn¡¯t restrain myself, and I didn¡¯t try. I ran for the cabin. Instead of joining the race with an instant sigh, Reed took off just as fast. Though she cried out ¡°wait for me,¡± we both knew I wouldn¡¯t. I galloped up the back door steps long before Reed even reached the clearing. Stopping, relaxing my shoulders, I looked around¡­and realized that this may have been too hasty. Why the back stairs? Bayce didn¡¯t make cantrips in the dang kitchen! Or¡­did she make cantrips in the dang kitchen? I paid more attention to my swiveling ears and the place in my gut that was good at feeling purrs, vibrations. Biofeedback told me that the place to go wasn¡¯t the front door or the back door. It was underground. Oh! Were we going in that basement-looking hatch? I¡¯d never been in there before, it was always locked! It made sense that the rumbling came from some whole other floor, considering how much space in that cabin was already devoted to, y¡¯know, living stuff. Whatever gadget made cantrips, it would need to compete for space with tons of research materials, stuffed animals, blankets, and heirlooms. Reed reached the edge of the clearing just as a stomping started up from below the hatch, climbing some subterranean stairs. We swiveled toward the hatch in the earth I flinched in surprise as the hatch flew open, wood clattering against the house. The witch herself stepped out in full, illuminated by what seemed to be firelight below. Bayce! You look¡­scientific! I wanted to say, but instead, I gave her a ¡°meow¡± that I hoped was clearly impressed. Along with her typical fancy dress and some knee-high, high-heel boots, she was wearing a slick lab coat and a fashion monocle that I doubted she, or anyone, would need. Instead of a floppy witch hat, she had on a bright-blue bowler hat so tiny that it had to have been pinned on. (Or, um¡­magic¡¯d on?) She looked thrilled, loopy, dancing around in place, deliriously happy to see me and Reed. ¡°Ah-h! You¡¯re back! Finally! I just couldn¡¯t wait¡ªI couldn¡¯t concentrate on anything¡ªhad to start without you! And you, you look¡­dotty!¡± That was about equivalent to what I¡¯d said about her, so, fair! She gave a round of applause. ¡°Yay! It¡¯s time, it¡¯s time! Oh¡±¡ªshe stopped herself¡ª¡°did you have a good trip?¡± I meowed and nodded, then stepped aside to let Reed walk up. Reed gave Bayce a weary smile, then a weary hug. ¡°Good evening, Bayce,¡± she said at a speed that, in contrast, now felt slothlike. ¡°It¡¯s¡­it¡¯s been a long three days, but there was so much to like about it.¡± Bayce said, staring straight past her shoulder, ¡°I want to hear all about it.¡± ¡°I know you do.¡± ¡°I know you know.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s go, then.¡± They released the hug, and Bayce became our overexcited tour guide. We weren¡¯t bothering with a meal or even with a snack, but that was alright by me. Who could eat with this eagerness anyway? 88. Why Crying As Bayce bounced halfway into the hatch toward the momentous cantrip, I poked Reed¡¯s ankle and, when I got her attention, pointed my nose curiously toward the second floor and made my best attempt at a questioning ¡°meow.¡± ¡°You want something?¡± I shook my head. ¡°You¡¯re wondering about¡­¡± Hm. I didn¡¯t wanna transform just to play hand-charades and transform back. I didn¡¯t enjoy that in pretty much any situation, but least of all in front of Bayce, who might make weird jokes about it¡ªor not, but it was a crapshoot. I was just gonna hope that Reed would get my meaning and, if she didn¡¯t, move on. ¡°About Chora?¡± she tried. Yeah! I nodded. As Bayce disappeared, Reed elaborated. ¡°You know, she tries to keep to a routine. Sometimes she has no problem staying up late for a special occasion, but most of the time she would rather sleep in.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t believe she¡¯d wanna miss this,¡± Bayce said with a hint of a sneer. Reed awkwardly scratched the back of her neck and grinned. ¡°Would I be right in assuming that Chora warned you to keep it down or do it in the morning?¡± Bayce sighed. ¡°You would be. But¡ªugh! If she loves our friend like she says she does, why can¡¯t she turn up for her¡ªher surprise cantrip party?¡± Bayce turned to me. ¡°Right, cat?¡± I blinked noncommittally. Truth be told, I was¡­a cat, so I didn¡¯t put too much stock in human social engagements myself, and I didn¡¯t know there were so many laws governing them. And if even Reed the human agreed, then all the better. Chora could sleep in if she wanted, right? Then again, Chora kinda-sorta asked Bayce to do it. Or compelled¡­or forced. Now she wasn¡¯t seeing it through, even though it was her own idea. So on second thought, I could see where Bayce was coming from. ¡°Well, I can¡¯t leave this door open forever,¡± Bayce said with a relaxed smile. She seemed to have moved on, so I would too. Reed and I descended a flight of eerie stone stairs before rounding the corner into¡­ Wow. This was a weird science lab. You know how you¡¯ve got cartoon witch¡¯s cauldrons, surrounded by cabinets of herbs and hanging limbs and things like that, and on the other side you¡¯ve got science labs with tubes and pipes and squiggly lines and huge dynamos, right? This was the horrific child of both rooms. The passage already had the ambiance of a tomb, with craggly walls that hadn¡¯t been touched up with polish, to say nothing of paint, since the dawn of time. The lighting was already a threatening red, coming from flaming-hot braziers that threw jagged shadows on the walls. It was already scary! It didn¡¯t need all these terrifying contraptions blocking your way at every step! I yearned to touch things. A bumpy science-spire the height of the whole chamber¡ªfive or six meters¡ªcame up on my left. To my right, a rocking horse with patchy fur and a fully exposed skull beckoned. At my feet was a heap of applesauce-like mush. Oops¡­did I crush that without meaning to? They¡¯d better keep me away from the walls, where rows of wooden trinkets, windchimes, wires, strings, and hammers did their hanging. And all around us was that purring, exuded by no single thing in this room but by everything, a resonance. As soon as I¡¯d entered, I got the sense that many mechanisms had to be running, pumping their engines or racing their minds or whatever they had to do. ¡°Whoops. That¡¯s just some escaped slime. I¡¯ll put it back later, don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Bayce said. Huh? O-oh, my applesauce foot thing. I scraped it off as well as I could on a burlap sack full of, apparently, thorns (ouch), then followed wherever Bayce and Reed went, paying strict attention so as not to trip up again. Reed was half as wary as me¡ªBayce was a natural. She began to explain what was going on. ¡°In the middle of all this is the crucible. That¡¯s where we¡¯ll dump the ingredients.¡± ¡°¡­¡¯Dump¡¯?¡± ¡°No, Reed, not literally. I can be careful! Don¡¯t look so scared. This place isn¡¯t even scary!¡± She laughed giddily, nervously. ¡°Nothing¡¯s gone wrong here in, like, years.¡± ¡°Actually,¡± Reed said with a mild smile at me, ¡°nothing bad ever happened in here, until last month.¡± ¡°And I took the fall,¡± Bayce said, laying a noble hand on her chest. ¡°Don¡¯t make the cat think I¡¯m a bad person,¡± she said with a smirk my way. I didn¡¯t know how to interpret that¡­was it just an in-joke? Reed took a deep breath. ¡°Anyway!¡± she said loudly¡ªor as loudly as possible, given the intensifying rumbling of the room. ¡°Bayce, why don¡¯t you show us the crucible?¡± ¡°Right right right!¡± Bayce scooted between what looked to my muddled mind like two mini nuclear reactors, and Reed and I followed suit. We stopped at a single small pedestal. And when we got there, it occurred to me in a flash: this was the ultimate source of the rumbling. Not the only thing rumbling, but the ur-thing producing the rumble. Let me be clear, though: the rumbling was ten percent physical and ninety percent metaphysical. Resonancey stuff. It rattled my skull but mainly it rattled my soul. You get it. As I stood so close to the pedestal that the top of it shaded me, Bayce stepped up to the other side. I heard her picking something up, could only barely see it. ¡°And this is¡ª¡± Bayce stopped herself. She paused for a good long while. I blinked. Reed blinked. ¡°O-o-oh,¡± Reed said at last. ¡°I guess you want the cat spirit friend to come up and see it.¡± ¡°Ths energy¡¯s not gonna self-generate forever,¡± Bayce said, tapping her foot with as much amusement as impatience. Reed turned to me. ¡°Would you like for me to pick you up?¡± ¡°Meo¡ª¡± ¡°Weak!¡± Bayce interrupted. ¡°We-e-eak! We wanna see the catgirl!¡± I would¡¯ve agreed with her, but I hesitated because¡­dang, did she have to make me self-conscious all of a sudden? I didn¡¯t even know if Catgirl Taipha¡¯s face and T-shirt were still wet or not! Bayce wouldn¡¯t wanna see me all damp and catching colds. ¡°Okay, alright, you can transform on your own timetable,¡± Bayce relented. ¡°But your other form is really frickin¡¯ cute. Just wanted to share that.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± Reed cried. Then, weakly, she added, ¡°Cats are cute too.¡± U-uh¡­I decided to make zero attempt to accurately parse that conversation. Bayce kneeled beside me. It turned out she was holding a tiny porcelain bowl containing the first two ingredients: some scales and some feathers. These had already been pounded and mixed together as if by a mortar and pestle. It looked like paste with sticks coming out¡ªnot attractive and not even shiny anymore. ¡°You can tell what this is, right?¡± ¡°Meow.¡± ¡°Cool! So I don¡¯t have to explain it. I just ground it up. Next, I¡¯ll add the few ingredients that I found on my own. Along with the poledust, if Reed will be so kind.¡± Bayce stretched a hand out behind her. Reed set the pouch in her hand. Then the pouch was untied, the powder emptied out. Bayce hopped back into a standing position, set the bowl on the table, and with a frightening whoosh and puff of Spell, she made a pestle fly from who-knows-where in the room to her palm. Miraculously, nothing was broken and there were no pratfalls. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Then her other hand pointed to the brazier lighting her face, commanding it to burn brighter¡ªhow that worked I dunno¡ªmoments before grabbing the bowl¡¯s edge like the steering wheel in an off-road racer. Her smile was¡­off-kilter. ¡°Alright, everyone! Now the excitement begins!!¡± A long, long pause. When Bayce churned the mixture, she did it slowly while adding her own hum to the mix of mystic vibrations. Her sound amplified things by the slightest degree. I could feel it as surely as a pin in my wrist. She worked with a steady, methodical arm, her mouth half-open as it would be in sleep, her eyes flickering. Eventually she crossed the threshold from humming into words, or sounds like words. Even so, they flowed into each other in the same monotonous tone. I thought of holy chants. Then it went beyond sound. As I was watching Bayce¡¯s mouth, all the sound suddenly stopped¡ªin the entire room. No sounds of shuffling from anxious feet. No sounds of breathing. Only pure resonance remained. And yet Bayce¡¯s arm was still working. Her lips were still moving. This lasted for only an instant. Then everything exploded. A brief, sparkling interlude of dazzling psychoactive particles stabbing suddenly into my eyes, ears, and core¡ªmy head and fur flying backward as if thrown back by a gale-force wind¡ªa capstone incantation that I made out crystal-clear, but it disappeared from memory in the aftermath, a dream¡­ Things faded to normal. Even the resonance of the room was nearly gone, down to a trickle of a murmur. The loudest noise was the crack of the fire. Reed had her eyes shut and her thumbs securely bolted over her ears. My own ears had a faint ache, yet I had no regrets¡ªI¡¯d just witnessed something miraculous. Bayce looked like she¡¯d hopped into a bomb blast. Clumps of hair had been blown back. Her bowler hat, having gone clear across the room, was hanging on a dynamo. And yet she was happy, and her hands remained clasped around the bowl and pestle. Below her chin, the steam of the bowl wafted up and out. A faint, pleasant, implacable smell was coming from it. The smell of magic? ¡°Now for the cantrip itself,¡± she whispered. She leaned over to another table, lifted up a plank of wood from the clutter, and passed it to Reed, who kneeled and passed it to me. I looked down and saw a suite of gemstones¡ªnearly fifty. Next to them were a few strands of metal and twine. Every miniscule gem had a perfect hole punched into it. One of these would go around my¡­neck? Or paw, or wrist? ¡°Choose your favorite,¡± Bayce murmured, and seemingly on command, the light of the fire changed, became near-white. I studied the rainbow of stones in this brightness for a few minutes. It was so hard to choose¡ªthese were all so pretty, and this kind of question was something I hadn¡¯t even considered considering earlier! Why couldn¡¯t Bayce choose for me? Or Reed? Either one would be super-meaningful! What would I¡­ Once I calmed myself down, the idea hit me quick as thunder. I pawed a rough chunk of deep-blue sapphire and a loop of tan twine. Not to represent Bayce¡ªalthough if she felt flattered by it, I wasn¡¯t gonna change her mind¡ªbut to represent the Queen of the Night and the Big Weird Book, and the first thing besides my System alerts that I could actually read. Reed rose and handed the stone to Bayce. Then Bayce dropped it into the bowl, and the concoction answered with a deep sizzle. Altogether, it sounded like any old tablet dissolving in water. The room dimmed back to the color of fire. ¡°Now we just let the stuff seep in,¡± Bayce said. Oh, so it was the other way around¡ªliquid dissolving¡­resolving? ¡­into an object. That made more sense, in a magic kind of way. Reed picked me up so I could see the materials at work. I got the feeling that the gray sludge I was watching bubble in the bowl was neither liquid nor slime, but a substance that could only have been perfected in a bizarre lab like this. Somehow the animal parts and stuff of mountain rocks¡ªorganic earth stuff¡ªhad been diluted into a form that was both purer and totally outlandish. Into the element of magic¡ªno, the element of reading. With each passing minute, the sludge ¡°shrank¡± more and more into the sapphire. And then the last drop was sipped up. The bowl was left spotless. So was the cantrip. She¡¯d done it. She¡¯d done it! ¡°There it is!¡± cried Bayce, making jazz hands over the bowl. ¡°Your first cantri¡ª¡± I transformed and glommed onto her. ¡°O-oh!¡± Bayce¡¯s arms hovered in midair, stunned. ¡°Oh, well¡­thank you, it was nothing, really¡­¡± Reed¡ªwho¡¯d had to lurch back to avoid getting suddenly crushed¡ªburst out laughing. Wondering if there was something funny about Bayce¡¯s face, I drew my head back. Sure enough, it was frozen in a dippy smile. As I held her, Bayce patted me on the back the way a robot might. I withdrew. Was it just me, or did she not appreciate that hug nearly as much as she led me to believe she would? I looked at Reed with a questioning pout. ¡°Huh? Oh, you didn¡¯t do anything wrong,¡± Reed said. ¡°I¡¯m fine. And she¡¯s just hilariously surprised. I think you gave her what she¡¯s been wanting¡­¡± Ah. I backed away from Bayce, shrugged it off, and decided that if Bayce ever asked for scritches or anything like them again, I couldn¡¯t give them to her without being prepared for a terrifying reaction like this. Then again, maybe she was also surprised by my wet, hypothermic shirt. Darnit, I should¡¯ve thought to take it off way earlier¡­ She handed me the cantrip, placing it gingerly in the palm of my hand. For my human form, it was small¡ªtoo small to fit around my huge head and land on my neck where it was intended to be. But for the neck of my cat form, of course, it was perfect. Hm¡­did Bayce think this part through? Come to think of it, since my clothes seemed to be attached to my humanoid form but not to my cat form, would¡­would the cantrip be like that too? Wh-wh-what if I just kept it in my Inventory? Would it still be active? I took two ends of the twine in my fingers, wiggled them back and forth. Then I crinkled my eyebrows at Bayce. ¡°The twine changes size with you,¡± Bayce said. ¡°I¡¯m an anatomagus, dude, who do you take me for?¡± I didn¡¯t take her for anything, in fact, because I still didn¡¯t know what that meant¡­but hey, that meant I could try it on. Lowering my head, I pressed the necklace against my scalp. Slowly, almost hesitantly, it lengthened. When I pulled it down around my neck, it made a perfect u across my collarbone. ¡­I now had a much more solid idea of what a u was. Poof! And now I was a cat again, feeling the way the pendant instantly adapted to my change in form, almost like a part of me. And now I could feel the resonance, if only dimly, echoing from the sapphire. It entered me, suffusing me. That ¡°pure reading energy¡± was within me now. It felt like steely gray. It felt like the glass of Sierra¡¯s lens. It felt like comfort in knowledge. Bayce guided us all outside, then into the cabin and upstairs in search of books. Moving quietly past Chora¡¯s closed door, we came to a big bookshelf at the end of the upstairs hallways. With the three of us moving together, I seemed to be in a mangrove forest of legs. The hall felt darker than ever. But with my eyes, I could push my head forward and see everything. There were so many books to choose from¡­a terrifying amount, actually! Would I even have time to read as many as I wanted? Because suddenly I wanted to read them all. I remembered Sierra¡¯s bookshelf. The thing she¡¯d taunted me with! All the knowledge she had about Vencia and other worlds (and the dirt she no doubt had on me). All the freedom she had to explore that in words. Well, Sierra, are you happy now? I¡¯d gotten the power to read, just like she wanted. Made in my goddess¡¯s own image. The names on the spines were coming to life. No longer as intimidating as the ink-black bars of an iron gate, they were familiar. Most, I realized, were storybooks, and some were textbooks, and field guides and world maps and family albums and nature magazines. There was a little bit of everything. ¡°¡­um, hello?¡± Whoops. Reed¡¯s voice came to me like one struggling through deep water and molasses. I¡¯d totally zoned out. ¡°I think she¡¯s having a hard time picking,¡± Bayce said. Reed nudged one book off the shelf. My eyes eagerly followed it. ¡°What about this one?¡± ¡°Why that one?¡± Reed squinted. ¡°Is¡­it¡­bad?¡± Bayce squinted harder, defensively. ¡°Uh, no? I¡¯m just asking.¡± ¡°I just think it seems like a good first book. There¡¯s no special reason.¡± Bayce looked away. ¡°Oh, um¡­okay! I¡¯ll just leave you two to this intimate momen¡ªI mean, regular moment.¡± She waltzed downstairs into the kitchen. I hardly paid that any attention. I was reveling in the power to make words unspool in sound and meaning before my very eyes. Reed led me to the couches, and as she walked, she began to open Merianne in Otherland. Although this wouldn¡¯t be my first book¡ªthat honor went to that huge lightning diary¡ªit would be the first one that clearly harbored no evil intentions. And it had pretty nice pictures, I noticed as Reed flipped through the first few pages. But I had been wondering about this reading cantrip quite a lot in idle moments. The biggest reason I wanted to get to a book ASAP was no longer to read it. As the first paragraph sat open on Reed¡¯s lap, next to the watercolor of a girl at a riverside, I pored through it, examining every letter. Reed waited patiently, grinning. She must¡¯ve thought I was merely excited to wrap my mind around individual letters, but really I was fact-checking against the new yardstick in my brain. I knew how many letters were in the alphabet, and I knew which ones I needed in order to say what I most wanted to say. I pointed with the tip of my paw to form a message, letter by letter. ¡°THANK YOU¡± It took a few moments for her to understand, but the answer came. ¡°¡­You¡¯re welcome,¡± she said, awe in her voice. ¡°HELLO FOR REAL ¡°I AM A GIRL CAT NOT A SPIRIT ¡°MY NAME IS TAIPHA¡± Reed turned to me, at first with no clear reaction. Then I found tears budding in her eyes. Why was she so emotional, so sensitive? Not crying because something was lost or sad, but crying out of pure emotion-ness? Wait. I could ask her now. ¡°WHY CRYING¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sad,¡± she said, though her throat was getting congested as the tears threatened to leak. ¡°I feel overcome, sometimes. It¡¯s just¡­we just¡­¡± Bayce¡¯s voice came bounding over the kitchen counter. ¡°You two¡¯ve been through a lot these past few days.¡± Reed rubbed one eye. ¡°Yes. And I hope we can go through more.¡± ¡°ME TOO¡± With a few more rubs and a final snivel, Reed tried to get herself together. ¡°Okay,¡± she whispered to herself. Then, clasping her hands together, she bowed to me. Just a bit. It was a repeat of the bow she¡¯d given me the first time we met, when I was a stranger at the door and Bayce was all but smothering me. It was our introductions all over again, but a touch more proper and a touch more right. ¡°My name is Reed Gnaeomi,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s an honor to be with you.¡± End of Book 2 BONUS: Popularity Poll The Catgirl System Character Popularity Poll! Readers were asked to vote for their 3 favorite characters. Their first pick was awarded 3 points in the final tally; their second 2 points; their last, 1 point. THE RESULTS ARE IN¡­ 1st Place Taipha: 17 Points! "As if this needs explanation." "Well, we cannot have the story without Taipha, and she is both the hero and the comedic sidekick." 2nd Place Reed: 15 Points! "She''s obviously in love with Taipha and I find her side of their interactions adorable." "¡­seems the most balanced and sane of the group, and the most outgoing." 3rd Place Bayce: 10 Points! "She''s funny and loud."
Color Commentary from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
¡­and here I am, reporting live from the winner''s circle!
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. SIERRA: How awful does it feel to be just shy of the top three? CHORA: Who are you. SIERRA: What''s it to you? CHORA: To be honest, I feel neither bad nor good about it. I''m neutral. CHORA: Besides, I still got 7 points. That''s not bad, considering someone named "Sierra" only got¡­4 points. SIERRA: HEY! That''s not not respectable! I was somebody''s favorite! CHORA: Hm, someone called Sierra "our playful practical joke of a goddess." SIERRA: Oh, those are fightin'' words. CHORA: ¡­Uh¡­that person is for you, not against you. SIERRA: Let''s turn to the actual winners now. That was a tight race, wasn''t it? Reed, aren''t you eaten up with regret over your stolen victory? REED: Haha, what? SIERRA: If readers had only been voting for their number-one favorite character, you would have won! You received 4 first-place votes versus Taipha''s 3. REED: Sure, but it''s just a friendly competition. We still value each other as people just as much as we did before this all happened. TAIPHA: Meow. (translation: "I''m not even sure what happened.") SIERRA: Oh, Earth strangers just ranked you from best to worst based on likability. Then we gave you gold medals for it. BAYCE: Barf! That''s so messed up I wish I hadn''t learned about it! SIERRA: Well, there you have it. Bayce literally said "barf." It''s no wonder she received only a single number-one vote. BAYCE: People in glass houses shouldn''t throw stones! SIERRA: People shouldn''t be asinine enough to build houses made exclusively of glass! TAIPHA: ¡­Meow? REED: They''re not related. BONUS: Quencia Pt. 1/2 (Reeds Confession?!) In the forests of Quencia, where massive trees formed canopies upon canopies and wonders without end, a gnome aimed her bow and arrow. Her concentration slipped. She missed. Instead of hitting the blue apple, it sailed into a thick, ropey branch. ¡°Sorry!¡± the gnome blurted out. She raced to the tree, removed the arrow, and patched the wound with a colorful bandage. The more she missed, the more she¡¯d have to do this. It was hard work being an archer, especially a failure archer. Chora came out of the shadows. The elf was twice her height, but the gnome¡¯s pointy red hat almost made up the difference. ¡°Hey, Reed, um¡­what are you¡­why? I swear I¡¯ve heard you miss a hundred times over the past hour.¡± Reed lifted her cap enough to wipe off sweat. ¡°It¡¯s that loud?¡± ¡°Yep.¡± She sighed. ¡°I just want to be well-rounded. I can¡¯t go crashing into every battle. And my aim with a Fireball is bad enough¡­¡± Chora shrugged. She had no sympathy. ¡°I keep telling you to join the Monk path.¡± ¡°If you join the Monk path, you can¡¯t dual-class!¡± Reed hadn¡¯t dual-classed yet herself, but she was a Bard with obvious Warrior sympathies¡­and Trapper and Muse and Druid and apparently now Ranger. ¡°Well, to put it bluntly, we did have our entire childhoods to comb through our options.¡± ¡°Well-well, your childhood was fifty years longer than mine.¡± ¡°Oh yeah¡­¡± Chora blinked. ¡°Anyway, I have to get back to training. Good luck.¡± She popped two apple chunks into her ears and jogged away. Reed shook her head, a way to bring her concentration back to the moment. But it was hard to focus, and it only grew harder with time. Normally the Quencian Wood was her oasis, the closest thing to a sea of calm existing above sea level. Today, though¡­ Another arrow chunked far off-target. A wind passed through the eaves. Reed, now having abandoned the task, marched with determination. Her stubby legs scaled the roots that rose like little mountains. The path to the Gravity Tree was as familiar to her as the back of her hand. Every root was almost a vein, and the tree itself sat on a knuckle, a hill overlooking the Crystalline Pond. The tree was crabbed and ugly. For most Quencian trees, bark swirled together, collided with itself, and exploded in splendidly shining leaves, fresh blooms, or simply pops of color that dotted the plant like natural graffiti. But the Gravity Tree was a very old tree. And a peculiar one, one that didn¡¯t link hands with any other tree and stopped short of the canopy. It and its blue apples bent over the twinkling pond very much like an old woman, hands seemingly clasped behind its back. But old trees had new growth. Reed walked straight to a particular branch. It was short, almost leafless¡ªit had been cut before. The wounds sparkled greenish-blue, showing sap within. At first sight of it, Reed attacked the poor tree, sawing at this branch with a knife. She let it plop into the still water, rubbed a bandage over the wound, then watched the water bubble and steam. ¡°Aah! Aaaaaugh!¡± cried the being in the water. Soon, though, the pain of birth was over, and a fully formed young adult strode calmly out of the water. Even though being taken in and out of existence was painful for ents, generally they considered it worth it. Bayce¡¯s condition was that if you tear her off the Gravity Tree and rebirth her, you¡¯d better bring some gossip. Bark was her flesh, and water became her gown. It also billowed out to become her hair and adorn it with a broad-brimmed hat. Her rough hands swatted diamond-bright water out of her eyes. Reed admired her careless beauty¡ªespecially as, being a gnome, she was expected to be merely cute, and industrious above all. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Bayce said. ¡°A lot. There¡¯s a dungeon I¡¯ve been wanting to explore, b-but I¡¯m not good enough, and¡­¡± ¡°Aw, honey. Calm down, and back up.¡± Bayce reached out and touched her shoulder. Ents came in a range of heights depending on how much of the branch you decided to cut off. Reed pushed hair behind her ear. ¡°Alright. The truth is, I¡¯ve been distracted during training lately, because¡­¡± Bayce beckoned for her to spit it out. Partly because she cared about her, but also partly so she could get to the gossip. ¡°Because there¡¯s a girl!¡± she cried. ¡°A girl I like. But I don¡¯t think it¡¯s going to work out. And I haven¡¯t even told her! Which, come to think of it, is good. Because it¡ª¡± ¡°Woah!¡± Bayce chirped. ¡°Back up again!¡± She was laughing, not at Reed herself but at her sheer nerves. ¡°And let¡¯s sit down.¡± A few of the roots reshaped themselves into two suitable chair shapes. Admitting all of this to Bayce was going to be nerve-wracking, but Reed assured herself that there was no one in the world who¡¯d want to help her through it more. While Reed and the hivemind that was the Gravity Tree used to have a purely working relationship¡ªshe would carry out the chores that required traveling long distances or existing on the mortal plane for more than ten hours at a time, the tree would give her blue apples¡ªbut she and the branch known as Bayce were around the same age, and they¡¯d become fast friends. All the same, some of Bayce¡¯s replies were¡­they did not help. ¡°You like girls.¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°I like a girl for sure. It doesn¡¯t happen much¡­¡± ¡°Okay. Well, just stop seeing her.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the thing. I¡¯ve only seen her once.¡± ¡°Okay. Well, see her again.¡± ¡°No!¡± Reed blushed. At last. ¡°Not so soon.¡± ¡°Yes! It¡¯s the ardor of your feelings that tells me you need to meet up sooner rather than later!¡± Bayce took Reed¡¯s hand in both of hers. ¡°Reed, don¡¯t you know what that means? It¡¯s love at first sight. It might even be love that transcends universes!¡± ¡°No!¡± Reed cried¡ªbut not, of course, because she could refute it. ¡°I mean, probably not.¡± ¡°Reed, just suffer me for a moment. Pretend to be a hopeless romantic for my sake.¡± The gnome took a deep breath. ¡°Alright. I am deeply and obsessively in love with a girl I have only met once.¡± Bayce smiled deviously. Or was that just her regular look? ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°We locked eyes!¡± Reed blurted. ¡°We even held each other.¡± ¡°What? Why didn¡¯t you lead with that?! This is practically consummated already! Back up even more!¡± Reed steeled herself while Bayce leaned forward like a kid at story time. ¡°This is what happened¡­ I was out in the woods asking around for samples.¡± Bayce imagined her bartering with trees, requesting fruits, sprigs, and nonsentient wood bits. ¡°At some point I took a wrong turn. But it might¡¯ve been fate steering me right, because what I found was a girl lying injured in the grass. Apparently, she¡¯d been cursed, because she tried to speak to me but no words came out. And the trap clamping down on her leg, that was invisible too.¡± Bayce said, ¡°You locked eyes with her, had a romantic epiphany, and freed her while cradling her in your arms.¡± Reed, though she was blushing fiercely, still took a moment to assess the accuracy of this statement. ¡°Almost. She¡¯s taller than me, so she kind of flopped over on my head and shoulder.¡± ¡°But still.¡± ¡°Mmhm. And for some reason, she was naked.¡± ¡°What?! Why?! Even I¡¯m not naked, and I¡¯m a tree!¡± Reed frowned and looked away. ¡°I dunno, but¡­she didn¡¯t seem to mind that part¡­¡± Bayce had an oddly studious look on her face. If ents had blood, or flesh to see their sap through, maybe she too would be blushing. ¡°So you saved her. Then what happened? You get her name?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t,¡± Reed said, sounding crushed. ¡°When I freed her from the trap, though, that lifted the curse, and she told me¡­¡®meow.¡¯ She kind of bolted after that.¡± ¡°This catgirl likes you.¡± ¡°But don¡¯t people run when they hate you?¡± Bayce tsked and swatted the idea away. ¡°C¡¯mon! You¡¯re just in denial. You¡¯re great, and she has no reason to dislike you. She¡¯s just embarrassed that you frickin¡¯ saw her naked! Go find her!¡± ¡°W-w-what do I even do, go into town asking for a person who only says ¡®meow¡¯?¡± Bayce shook her by the shoulders. ¡°Yes! Yes! That¡¯s exactly what you do! And do it as soon as possible, because she might be so embarrassed she¡¯s leaving this whole country!¡± ¡°Oh gosh! You really think so?!¡± ¡°No, but anything to get you moving!¡± And move they did. *** Above and around the whimsical village of Outfront ran several lifts, all pulled by a constant magical churn of noncombustible kinetic energy. As if the view from so high weren¡¯t enough, this was also a part of the woods where the canopy broke so thoroughly that light, unfiltered and unfettered, reached the very bottom of the forest floor. It seemed to twinkle like starlight as it hit the tiles of distant roofs. Reed couldn¡¯t help but gasp whenever she took a ride above this village, stuck her head out the window of the jostling car. Well, she usually couldn¡¯t help it. This time she had a more concerning matter to focus on. Namely: where was that ¡°catgirl¡±? She and Bayce had asked villagers on their way to this lift. They¡¯d listened in closely on gossip, sifting through words for any sign of ¡°meow.¡± But there was nothing yet, so Reed and Bayce dutifully took out their spyglasses and scanned the village below for any sign of¡­ ¡°She wasn¡¯t a cat, actually,¡± Reed said, mouth half-open in concentration. ¡°She was a gremlin.¡± Bayce said, ¡°I¡¯m sure she still is.¡± Reed stuck her tongue out, well knowing she wouldn¡¯t see it. This was feeling like an impossible search. From this far up, they could only see inside of every other alley, and even then they were blocked by an impenetrable wall of hats. That gave Reed racing, panicked thoughts. That girl hadn¡¯t worn a hat, but what if she picked one up and really liked it? Then she¡¯d never find her from here! The duo¡¯s last idea¡ªshort of asking every single Outfronter for leads, which neither of them had the time or patience for¡ªwas to simply ask all the innkeepers. It would still be the labor of a few hours¡­ When they emerged from the car at the top of Outfront¡¯s highest point, it was with a whole lot more exhaustion than they¡¯d expected from standing so inert. Bayce was massaging her temples and Reed was pretty sure she didn¡¯t even have a brain to suffer the throbbing of. She, however, did, and pressed her forehead with her knuckles. It felt like a shame to waste the view. Nobody else would. People of all ages streamed past them from the lift car. The duo heard the casual talk and occasional ¡°ooh!¡± of elves, gnomes, trolls, and brownies, caught the giggles of children, and even flinched at the bass note of a big cart holding a single human baby. Most everyone flocked to the railings, drinking in the sky. Reed and Bayce leaned against the railing too, to regroup. They¡¯d thought they were far enough to the side to escape the crowd, but they weren¡¯t alone. A gremlin was watching the clouds. Her long, tangled tresses were grubby and loaded with twigs, and forked when they hit a stubby manx tail. Her flesh was rough¡ªgremlins looked callused at any age. When she turned, enormous, piercing eyes glimmered back at Reed, startled, then curious, then remembering. ¡°Mreaow!¡± ¡°She¡¯s wearing clothes!¡± Bayce cheered. Reed ignored the quip¡ªat least she wasn¡¯t horrified by how unwashed the girl was. Without hesitation, Reed smiled and extended a hand to shake. Bayce slapped her hand down. Reed pouted and brought it back up again. Bayce almost slapped it again. ¡°Reed, no. You¡¯re not humoring me!¡± The gremlin girl seemed lost, and the perpetual smile on her kitten-mouthed face didn¡¯t help signal her emotions. She looked up and down from the hand to the commotion. So Reed, very slowly, pressed her hand against the gremlin¡¯s, and then¡­oh, phooey. Yeah, maybe she was being ridiculous. The gremlin remained watchful, hadn¡¯t shrunk back. Reed gradually moved into a full embrace. They stood like that for a few silent seconds. Soaring clouds and shivering leaves framed them, seemed to hold them still. They let go. Reed said, ¡°I¡¯m so happy I¡¯m seeing you again.¡± ¡°Meow,¡± said the gremlin. ¡°C-can you comprehend any of the languages of the Wood?¡± Reed pointed to her mouth. ¡°¡­Meow.¡± Bayce burst into laughter behind her. Reed bit her lip. ¡°Um, what about nodding for yes and shaking your head no?¡± She demonstrated, and thus began a long session of tutoring the girl on gestures for ¡°yes¡± and ¡°no.¡± ¡°Holy crap,¡± Bayce murmured. ¡°How¡¯s she even been getting by here?¡± Turning to face her with the gremlin girl by her side, Reed said, ¡°Well, we can see by the state of the clothes someone probably gave her that she hasn¡¯t exactly been getting stellar treatment.¡± (In actuality, Taipha had been given perfectly clean clothes. She just mucked them all up two hours ago by traipsing through the woods¡ªwithout guilt or pity.) ¡°Also, Bayce, let¡¯s not whisper or keep any secrets from her, please.¡± Reed narrowed her eyes a bit. ¡°Living things can sense distrust.¡± ¡°Oh, I know that much.¡± Bayce winked and made a clicking noise with her mouth. She didn¡¯t produce saliva, so it sounded kinda like chopsticks. Together they descended into Outfront proper, taking a long lift ride all the way back down. It was enjoyable this time, now that they knew where the gremlin girl had been. And she, for her part, seemed blissfully eager to go wherever they were going. BONUS: Quencia Pt. 2/2 (Shards of Passion) While Reed and the gremlin watched the sights outside, Bayce actually became preoccupied with asking the new girl a gamut of yes-no questions to make sure she really knew what nodding and shaking her head meant. Was the sky blue? Were her feet touching the floor? As they got off, Bayce had a sudden suspicion. Passing Outfronters and huts on either side of a dirt road, she asked, ¡°Have you been a gremlin for all your life?¡± The gremmy girl shook her head immediately. ¡°Aha! Okay. So you were cursed?¡± She blinked. Then she started moving her head in a circular motion. ¡°Nonono. Move your shoulders up and down to signify that you don¡¯t know.¡± She just kept circulating. ¡°Bayce,¡± Reed sighed, ¡°maybe this is a bit much?¡± ¡°No, but we¡¯re getting somewhere! There might be a way to help my gremlin friend and your gremlin girlfriend break free from some kind of a curse! And this, um¡­¡± Bayce gestured toward the gremlin, and gestured and gestured until she finally snapped her fingers. ¡°Wait! You¡¯re saying both a ¡®yes¡¯ and a ¡®no.¡¯¡± She nodded exuberantly. Bayce started clapping. ¡°Yay! I love linguistics, this is so exciting!¡± Reed still wasn¡¯t liking it. ¡°I suppose as long as you¡¯re not treating her like a pet¡­¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry, she¡¯s gotten no treats for right answers.¡± That actually made the gremlin girl frown. Distinctly frown, with her naturally upturned lips, for the first time. ¡°Mraow,¡± she said. ¡°¡­We can get treats for right answers!¡± Meanwhile, Reed got the distinct impression that the gremlin girl¡ªor Gremphla, as she¡¯d started calling her in her head¡ªhad no idea about the thin line between friendship and mockery¡­but this was a concern for another day. Frankly, the girl was having fun. Until suddenly, seconds later, she wasn¡¯t. But that wasn¡¯t Bayce¡¯s fault. A rupture appeared in reality itself. First the gash was filled with nothing but space-black void. Then it refracted and bent, shining like a star on bismuth. And right in the middle of the stream of people. Shrieks and howls filled the air, some from the villagers, many distinctly not. Sounds like teeth across glass cut through what had otherwise been a splendid spring day. Then the rupture disappeared, along with many of the villagers. Reality had sprung a leak and just as quickly patched it. For a split second, anyone with the bird¡¯s-eye view of the lifts could see a distinct straight line of destruction running straight through the winding road, where no people or homes or plants were anymore. Nothing but settling dust. Reed, Bayce and Taipha saw it all too¡ªnone too clearly, but more than enough to know there was trouble of a magical sort. Split second over. The crowd moved, reacting again. In the world of Quencia, magical disasters were not always worth hysteria. A few people cried, but others simply hurried away, stared around, or raised their voices in mere alarm. Like a tornado had touched down in its season. Reed and Bayce stayed firm. It was Taipha who panicked. An involuntary yowl left her throat. She shivered all over. Just looking at her, Reed knew that her every instinct was to run away. But she wasn¡¯t running. Maybe because she¡¯d reached out and clutched Reed¡¯s arm. An odd feeling of pride came upon Reed. Was the gremlin girl sensing her strength and courage? But maybe that was just wishful thinking. Either way, thinking about this kind of thing wasn¡¯t appropriate in a dangerous situation like this. Reed enveloped Taipha in a sort of hug as she ran away, following a crowd away from the rupture. She murmured, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯re leaving.¡± ¡°What?!¡± She looked over her shoulder and, begrudgingly, stopped. ¡°Bayce!¡± she called out. The ent hadn¡¯t followed her at all. ¡°You¡¯re not thinking of¡­¡± Waiting for the rift to open again? She left that part unsaid. Behind every rift was a dungeon. By the looks of this one, some unknowable entity was attempting to tear open a portal to their personal ice-and-space palace. Reed was an amateur adventurer at best. Bayce too, technically. The Gravity Tree was a hivemind, sure¡ªevery ent passed on info to all the rest in the tree¡ªbut rarely did she herself fight. And while Reed loved her to pieces, she could get overenthusiastic. Worse, if she did decide to brave that dungeon, Reed was going after her. That was a foregone conclusion. Yes, Bayce could die, but at least the Gravity Tree could reclaim her memories and produce a new Bayce branch. Gnomes just straight-up perished. So Reed stared at Bayce with challenging eyes. Was she really gonna do it? ¡­Bayce reconsidered. She came back, but with a serious look on her face. ¡°Okay, fine. We wouldn¡¯t be prepared for this anyway.¡± With Taipha in one arm, Reed reached out with the other, and rubbed Bayce¡¯s hand with her own. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°But we have to try it tomorrow.¡± ¡°¡­Come again?¡± Bayce gestured to Taipha. Her shivering had gone down, but not the fear in her wide, darting eyes. ¡°I¡¯m just putting the pieces together. I mean, look at the trauma there! That¡¯s deep trauma! Deep and specific! Bet she was trapped in the last gasp of a sealing rift. Kind of like an elevator door closed on her foot.¡± ¡°Come again?¡± ¡°Gremlin girl, did you recognize that rift?¡ªSee, yeah, exactly.¡± Bayce began her self-reply even before Taipha started headbanging. In that moment, Reed was more thankful than ever that she and Bayce¡¯s minds worked so differently. She thought she¡¯d been trying to do the best thing for this girl, but she¡¯d ended up ignoring what might¡¯ve been the most important deed of all. Time to be heroes! *** Thip! Thip! Thip! Reed launched arrows faster than ever before. With a new determination, she launched iron arrowheads into a row of apples. Her misses were many, but at least they hit the inert wood of a cart behind them. Thip! An arrow hit an apple dead-center. Reed, single-minded, kept firing. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The light of the forest was dwindling, but a few candles set alight by a Fireball sat on a great broad stump nearby. Also on that stump were the leavings of a delicious meal, or a disturbing one, depending on how you thought about graphic raw sparrow. The strange thing was, despite her focus, Reed wasn¡¯t un-distracted at all. More than ever she was thinking about that catlike girl. Only now that girl came with a purpose: to get as good as possible, and help her as much as possible. Talking to her and learning anything in detail was still like pulling teeth, but at least now she and Bayce had a direction. Not only that, but ¡°Gremphla¡± had her own determination to wreak some dungeon vengeance. It was like a feedback loop: Reed chunked arrows into apples until they looked like porcupines, and that inspired the catgirl to run off at speed, coming back at intervals, always ragged but victorious like some barbarian queen¡­and that inspired Reed to work harder¡­ Taipha was returning now. It was the smell of blood that told Reed, even before the footsteps. As wrong as she felt any killing was, far be it from her to tell this gremlin not to feed herself or seek her own fulfillment. Two rough-hewn sandals stopped, and a body was dropped. Something that sounded impossibly big. Reed let her bow fall to her side. She turned. Taipha had brought back a wolf. We are extremely ready, Reed thought. She didn¡¯t know what to say. She gulped and stood there for several seconds. What began as a magical, awe-inspiring moment became awkward. So, as much to clear the air as testify to Taipha that she was great and mighty, Reed coughed, then pulled out the blade secured to her back. This was her primary weapon, dissecter of many stumps, survivor of many battles. Humbly, she ducked her head and offered it for the coming battle. Taipha blinked, her smile placid as usual despite all the blood smeared across her face and hands, and spattering her shirt front. Maybe she would reject it wholesale¡ªshe already had her claws. To Reed¡¯s surprise, she accepted the gift. And the gift glowed with a golden charge the likes of which, Reed knew, could only be equaled by the sun¡­ *** Thip thip! Sh-h-h-rk! Floods of merciless demons fell before their arrows and blade. Their silver, mirrory exoskeletons exploded into dust on impact, filling the air with a miasma that would have choked Reed and Taipha if not for the mage constantly swishing her hands in the air to circulate it. ¡°You are like ten times cooler than me right now,¡± Bayce observed from the back of the party. At least she had come in basic, vaguely cool bronze armor. But all of them had, so at best, that only made them even. Reed called back over her shoulder, ¡°You¡¯re literally bending gravity.¡± Bayce blinked upward. ¡°Oh, right. Yeah, you¡¯d think this would be wind. This shouldn¡¯t even make any sense. Yet it¡¯s happening.¡± As she said that, approximately fifty-six more demons came scrambling down the silver incline of a dungeon whose every surface shone like a finely polished, incredibly disorienting mirror. Reed¡¯s arrows and occasional Bonfire spell, Taipha¡¯s radiant, arcing blade, the graceful movements of both¡ªthey all flickered in the mirrors to their left, right, floor, and ceiling, reflecting Reeds and Taiphas from here to eternity¡­ And thus they made their progress¡ªReed chuckling from time to time with a burst of fresh confidence, Taipha beaming when she pulled off a hard trick (or fell flat on her face)¡ªuntil they hit what could only be the final chamber. Three mystical young ladies stood before the ornate sapphire door. Wrought edges with the color and sheen of silverfish curled into the handles. This door was sized for humans, so its handle was significantly higher than they were tall. Hundreds upon hundreds of demons had been slain mere moments ago. The gravitational currents of Quencia itself had been twisted. But here was a puzzle they struggled to solve. Bayce stared longingly up at the handle, grasped at it, tilted her head like a child pretending to crush someone¡¯s head between their fingers. Sorry, Bayce, but perspective? It doesn¡¯t work that way. Reed was more industrious. She stood on her tippy-toes and reached upward with her bow. If the end of it could tap that handle, then maybe, just maybe, she could twist it and shove. ¡°Ihh,¡± she groaned, over and over. ¡°Ihh¡­¡± Taipha stood still, taking in the problem. (She was, you see, originally a cat, and cats can¡¯t really open doors. This problem had assailed her many times in her past. And the solution was so clear to her!) As she traipsed twenty strides backward, Reed and Bayce didn¡¯t even notice, so entranced by the problem were they. Then Taipha took a running start. She ran, galloped, and finally leaped¡ª ¡°Ow!¡± ¡°Yeargh!¡± Reed and Bayce¡¯s heads made for a nice springboard. ¡ªand she managed to grab that handle, albeit with the rest of her body swinging. Soon she used that to her advantage, kicking her legs out harder to carry the tip of the handle down. They all heard the click of the latch. This door was not locked, there was no key; the boss was waiting for them. Reed¡¯s eyes shimmered. Bayce¡¯s eyes glowed. ¡°Thank you!¡± Reed raved as Taipha sailed back down to earth, almost into her arms. But given the roar that rocked the mirror-ground, they had no time for celebration. Inside was a something part jester and part war-tank. A head with a harlequin¡¯s jingling cap smiled down at them through a gray mask, with crescent mouth and eyes. Behind the mask holes burned a furnace of malice, an intense red aura glare that contrasted with the chipped sapphire paint of the rest of the machine. Along the hull were several incredibly deadly weapons¡­maybe. They were wacky wavy metal tentacles with gloved hands at the ends. Yet nobody was laughing, especially not when Taipha, at first sight of the thing, froze up and nearly dropped Reed¡¯s blade. The jester laughed, and each laugh sent a puff of aura-steam through an otherwise pitch-black vault. ¡°Who dares disturb Ygele?¡± said the final boss, arms twisting in midair as if preparing to wring their necks. Reed took a defiant step forward. With one of her few remaining arrows, she pointed in the jester-tank¡¯s face. ¡°I do,¡± she intoned in her most formal voice. ¡°I am Reed the Gnome, defender of Quencia and all its inhabitants. Reverse what you have done to this gremlin here or you will not live much longer.¡± ¡°No,¡± said the jester. ¡°Then you would ask for death?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± said the jester. ¡°If that¡¯s what you think is happening.¡± Ygele¡¯s hands did look awfully strong and wringy right now. ¡°So be it,¡± she said, nocking an arrow. ¡°Then face the wrath o¡ª¡± Fwing! The first attack to sail through the air was not Reed¡¯s arrow. Luckily, it wasn¡¯t a gloved hand, either. A blue apple almost as large as the tank itself banged into its hull. The jester crumpled, heaving smoke. Behind Reed and Taipha, Bayce un-morphed from her catapult form. The first time she¡¯d exploited Reed¡¯s dramatic monologues to stage a surprise attack, it had hurt Reed¡¯s pride, but now, several tries later, she recognized it for the killer maneuver it was. And yet this was only the opening move. Ygele lashed out with full force, arms becoming a rush of weapons as dense as any missile volley. The battle raged for longer than any of them had anticipated. Ygele had counted on a minute at best; Reed had predicted ten, Bayce fifteen; Taipha guessed thirty, thinking she knew better than anyone else how deadly this enemy was. But even Ygele¡¯s first victim was wrong. It was a true battle of endurance for all of the girls. Healing plimpberries that had been all but chugged earlier were rationed strategically. Legs moved only as much as they had to. Whenever Bayce managed to hold back the arms enough for a precise, precious opening, the two frontline fighters were vicious, stabbing the hull for all they were worth. But Ygele clapped back, pushing them away and dealing grave wounds. It seemed getting in hits was never worth the price. There was nothing they could do. Every strategy, every potential weak point from head to tank-tread foot, had been tried and dismissed. ¡­Taipha wobbled on her feet. She panted, lungs and heart working so hard she couldn¡¯t hear anything else. Reed¡¯s blade hung in her loose, sweat-coated, blood-trailing grip. Her vision was clouding over. Just ahead of her, a reddish silhouette began to make its way forward, dagger slashing against metal like they were impenetrable vines. Reed was giving it her all. She should give it her all too. But she was so¡­tired¡­ No. Not only that. Because Taipha had a moment of clarity then. Not everything had been tried. They¡¯d been focusing so much on the enemy when they should¡¯ve been looking inward at their own potential. She dashed forward, gasping with the effort, and wished she could cry out Reed¡¯s name, tell her what she was thinking. But as it turned out, just snaring her wrist and hooking it around the blade was a good first step. Taipha didn¡¯t let go of it. She grabbed tighter, sent an influx of energy rippling through the metal. Reed stopped mid-run¡ªabout to be stormed by hands¡ªand understood immediately. She sent her own magic through. One girl¡¯s magic was radiant; the other¡¯s was hot like fire. Together they had a strength and beauty to match the sun. Suddenly the blade was shaking, burning, all but exploding with power and potential. Reed and Taipha howled as they brought the sword swinging in a perfect half-moon arc. The blaze that shot out not only cleaved through the arms; it sliced through the heart of Ygele, who couldn¡¯t self-repair any longer. Eruptions burst out all over the tank¡¯s body, setting the whole dungeon room aglow. The last scattered bits of the sword¡¯s arc hit the walls and ceiling, casting lights like fireworks that also, when you squinted, kind of looked like ineffective fire alarm sprinklers. And that was how the boss was slain¡­shortly before dissolving into innumerable gold coins. Nobody could speak for a while. Nobody could even react. They could only stand and pant and feel their arms fall to their sides as the mechanical arms fell too. Lots and lots of levitating gold coins slowly spun in the air. ¡°¡­So,¡± Bayce said, ¡°does anyone here use money?¡± Nobody could reply to that, but this time it was because Taipha also suddenly exploded. A sound like a crushed pi?ata rang out. Streamers filled the air, and Taipha was changed back to her original form. (Or so they assumed. Taipha was actually very confused right now!) Reed gasped under her breath. ¡°You weren¡¯t a cat,¡± she said. ¡°You were a girl!¡± Bayce said. ¡°A girl with ears.¡± ¡°Bayce¡­most girls have ears.¡± But these were very large, and catlike. A striped orange tail swished at her legs, and her face showed she was utterly baffled. ¡°Mrah?!¡± Some curses, when lifted, revert you back to your original form. Others can change you. A whisper in the heart of the Quencian Taipha was telling her to stay with Reed, not as a species very different from her, but as another of those creatures humans called ¡°the folk of the wood.¡± And so it happened that Taipha was brought to a more agreeable form than the way the world had found her. (As for the Taiphas of other universes, well¡­that story was a little more complicated.) Once the dust settled, the three of them fell upon each other hugging, tearing up with pain and recent fears, laughing at their close calls. None of them had any doubt that theirs would be a happily ever after. 89. Midnight You It was starting to feel weird again, sleeping in the common room alone. By now it was well past midnight. The first floor of Reed¡¯s cabin was nearly deserted. If I strained my ears, I could just hear Bayce at work now and then, shifting some table or chair. And the cabin, as usual, subtly creaked. I was alone and sleepless in the makeshift bed. It wasn¡¯t that I couldn¡¯t sleep¡ªI had the Catnap Skill for that very thing¡ªit was that I didn¡¯t want to. My mind was abuzz, reflecting furiously on everything that¡¯d come to pass in the last few hours, the last few days. It was buzzing about the distant past and the future, too. Once upon a time, sleeping down here had been weird because it was indoors, because it was a space for humans, because I didn¡¯t want to know people and thought I would never want to. But now it was weird because¡­it was lonely, and I knew that it shouldn¡¯t be lonely. This room was too large, and desolate, to keep being a bedroom for just me. The night of the marshmallows and the storygame, when Reed stayed down here and conked out on the couch by mistake, was so recent, yet it hit me with a nostalgic pang. If everyone else hadn¡¯t retired already, I would¡¯ve said something about it¡­ Oh, right. I¡¯d had the perfect moment to ask about it this very night. This was, after all, the night I¡¯d gotten my reading cantrip. But funnily enough (if anyone¡¯s laughing), words failed me in the moment, and I¡¯d talked about¡­blather. An hour or two ago, I¡¯d ¡°spoken¡± to Reed for the first time, spelling my name in the Merianne book. She greeted me, and I hadn¡¯t known what to say next. Choice paralysis. Well, I could ask a very elementary question. ¡°HOW OLD ARE YOU?¡± (That was something people said in introductions.) ¡°Nineteen. How about you?¡± ¡°I DONT KNOW CATS DONT REALLY COUNT YEARS. REGULAR ANIMALS¡± ¡°O-oh¡­so you wouldn¡¯t be one hundred, two hundred years old, or anywhere in that range?¡± ¡°WHY WOULD I BE THAT OLD?¡± She¡¯d laughed too loudly and said, ¡°Because we¡¯ve all been thinking you¡¯re a spirit, and some of them are old like that. Not that it¡¯d be a bad thing if you were old.¡± ¡°OK¡± And we blinked at each other. ¡°THANK YOU¡± Alright, that message was an easy choice. All this time, I¡¯d been wanting to thank Reed for everything she¡¯d done: supporting me without question, holding me up when I felt down, offering her home and a part of her life to me¡ª ¡°Of course!¡± she said. But the word was too shallow; her ¡°thank you¡± here was not my ¡°thank you.¡± ¡°I¡¯m so glad we have another way to communicate. I wish cat body language were easier for me.¡± I nodded. Then I moved to spell ¡°THANK YOU¡± again and prepared to go into more detail. But as I planned out my sentence, I realized how many, many minutes that would take, and coincidentally, at the same time, Reed let out a gigantic, though not impolite, yawn. ¡°UM¡± I didn¡¯t know why I bothered spelling out that one. I got the feeling I was just wasting her time. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯ll have to go to bed pretty soon.¡± ¡°UM LETS KEEP READING UNTIL THEN¡± So there it was: a plodding, halting, awkward conversation. I learned her age. She learned my boringness. She had to, because only after she hugged me tight and departed for her room did I shudder, realizing that I hadn¡¯t even thought to tell her anything important. Like the stuff in that big marble book. Or even what had drawn me to her in the first place. It wasn¡¯t the convenience of her cabin, or Sierra urging me on. Just¡­her kindness. I didn¡¯t thank her for her kindness. I hadn¡¯t managed that or told her anything cool about myself. I mean, at the very least I could¡¯ve been narrating my greatest achievements out in the wild, or the funniest. Granted, telling some long-winded story might have been an awful decision because spelling out words via pointing at a book took a pretty long time. We¡¯d have been yawning midway through the great tale of how I tried to climb that one tree and fell a thousand feet. Still, now that it was raging through my mind, the idea of sharing stories with others, in detail, made me more exhilarated about the bare thought of communication than I had in¡­my whole life! You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. But I would just have to save that energy for tomorrow. If that was possible. For now, I was willfully restless, forsaking my Catnap so that I could think. I mulled over my Quest rewards, the boons I got from getting all the ingredients for Bayce to make the cantrip. They were welcome, of course, but not nearly as cool as the cantrip itself, and I got the feeling that Sierra and/or the System itself knew that, because slaying a couple of gackerns would get me just as much in spoils. 2000 Experience and 500 Gold to add to the vaults.
Taipha Calico Ranger
Lv. 21 EXP: 77% (2419/3150)
A few minutes spent scanning my list of Skills was very unproductive. I wanted to strategize on a higher level, but¡­I had no clue how to start the process. That¡¯s what friends are for! I told myself, and that was the first real note of enthusiasm since my cabinmates went to bed. Instead of bothering Bayce¡ªwho I figured was bound to be at her less-than-best anyway, this late¡ªI realized that I wanted a gentler mental exercise. I wanted to read. I am pleased to make an acquaintance with any being, spirit or mortal, that meets me in these sacred woods. I wish you safe travels and many meals. - Heidschi Opus The letter lay between me and the refrigerator, which glowed with a steady yellow light. Sure, I did have night vision, but it was reassuring to have the added light, particularly with the printed letters I was comprehending for the second-ever time. With a sliver of metefry hanging from my mouth, I pawed the letter out of the way and took out the Book of Sister¡¯s Shadow. I tried to bring it out of my Inventory delicately. As if that was even possible. Put a clunky invisible carrying case together with a huge marble chunk and I¡¯m surprised it didn¡¯t wake up the whole house when it landed. DOOM. Well, there it was. I worked it open with my nose. It was a bit of a relief that gaining the ability to read human words didn¡¯t make me lose the ability to read these human-illegible ones. Not that that told me anything about what this book meant. Nah, I did know exactly what it was: a willfully obscure diary. And between now and the moment I¡¯d first acquired it, it¡¯d gained another entry: Two Now I understand the rest of my Maker¡¯s decree. I see it all clear now. If I ¡°become more human¡± then I can use the tools of the human. They move through the forest as they did through the city, but that is where the similarities between the two worlds end. A squirrel won¡¯t train beyond a certain level. Nor a krigrie, nor even a bear. But certain humans have the will to train, and they can craft and use tools. They only lack the talent. Hence I might really be the best of both worlds. ¡­I hate that I know what wordplay is now. At first I thought this System must be broken. If so, then my powers are broken. But to believe this is to believe that my Maker gave me something which is broken and to assume that my Maker is wrong. Isn¡¯t it? The Inventory did not want to open. I made it open. A human-made metaphor has told me that I ¡°forced the lock.¡± Inside of the invisible world were this book and a pen. The descriptions are illegible. But I can write with the pen, almost like they do. I would call the process ¡°satisfying,¡± but it doesn¡¯t sate a hunger. ¡°Relieving¡±? Reading this book fresh off of a vicious swarming bug attack and reading it in the calm of a fridge light were vastly different experiences. The person who wrote this book seemed ruthless and calculating, like she had before. Someone interested in conquering and dominating. Not like me, a cat who¡¯d wanted to survive. And yet a little like me¡ªan animal lost in a new world, with odd direction from on high. Enough to call my ¡°sister¡±? No¡­the idea of that made my stomach knot a little. This whole thing about the Sapphire Queen deserved more conversation. It was just too ominous to leave alone for much longer. I didn¡¯t want her to be the first topic of the day at our ordinarily blissful breakfast, but maybe that¡¯d be best. Knock. My ears twitched so hard they rattled my head. Knock¡­knock. Okay, calm down, Taipha. Whatever that was, it wasn¡¯t someone at the door. The direction was wrong. Besides, the sound was too soft for that. More likely it was the house creaking especially loud. Or Bayce finishing her work, pushing her chair in for the night. But still. I took a look at my Inventory. I still had Chora¡¯s Crystal on me and the Debug Blade, plus two Minor Heals. Now I slotted in the Book of Sister¡¯s Shadow and Merianne in Otherland. Why not? Space was no longer an issue. If we¡¯d had any plimpberry pancakes left in the fridge, I would¡¯ve taken a few of those two, and braved the taste. Tick. That one definitely wasn¡¯t someone at the door. It was someone at the window! Someone who could evidently see me. I charged closer. If I¡¯d known who was knocking, I could¡¯ve added Cloak, but for now I could at least keep an eye on whether Stealth and its minor Speed boost were active. (And they were not.) No way I was getting within sight of the window. As much as it hurt not to get a look at the foe, that foe was not getting a look at me. So I stood parallel to it a few feet away. If an intruder tried to get in through there, I¡¯d assess, then take off. A Leap and claws to the face might do. Man, I wished I had a Fireball or some other offensive Spell left over, but that was fine¡ªAir Cutter wasn¡¯t too much weaker. And I could¡ª Ahh, oh yeah! The Debug Blade, I¡¯d been thinking about that one lately! This restless night had been a great chance for me to actually ruminate on how I could use it without my brains dripping out of my ears. Good, because in fairy tales and stuff like that, a trusty guard needed a sword. One side of me raved about swords in the back of my mind. The other stared ahead, vigilant, focused on the space before the window. I thought I saw a shimmer in the air. Knock. The sound¡ªthe intruder¡ªhad moved again, and this time it was the door. Then all sound stopped. My thoughts seemed to become ear-splittingly loud. I stopped them. My heartbeat was still going, but the delicate sound of it¡ªinaudible. And the entire room, impossibly, grew a few shades darker. 90. There Are No Bugs, Only Features Bizarrely, every trace of ambient noise had been sucked out of this room, and even though it was already night¡ªone of Vencia¡¯s countless moonless nights¡ªeverything was darker than it should be. My vision dimmed, but it didn¡¯t leave. My hearing was stymied, but I had other senses. My nose picked up typical smells¡­along with a kind of¡­metal ether? In the same instant, my buffs went off. One Guard and one Meditate¡ªokay, maybe two Meditates. If Meditate raised Wisdom and Wisdom literally made you smarter, more intuitive, that would help me keep up my cunning. Another Guard could come later, if needed.
HP 100% (598/598)
SP 83% (474/570)
DEF 116 (+50%)
WIS 144 (+100%)
The pain of stacking buffs wasn¡¯t as bad as it had been. Or was I just used to it? Or was I just feeling too determined to let that bog me down? I pivoted, hiding behind the edge of the counter that split the kitchen and living room. Then I peeked at the front door, my mind all action: The front door was open. The world outside was a shade darker too¡ªthis Spell or Skill had either surrounded our place or fully clouded my sight. And the intruder, luminous, was charging in. Yeah, somehow I knew it would be her. Yet this all felt off. The Sapphire Queen¡­normally she was elegant and she got crunchy little insects to do her bidding. But tonight she¡ªespecially luminous in the eerie dark¡ªwas running for me like a linebacker. She was holding something, but I didn¡¯t have the luxury of time to gather what as she bashed a shoulder into the counter. Plates and decorations fell to the floor, shattered. The utter lack of sound was the most jarring thing. I danced away from porcelain shards.
SPD 91
Well, then. And here I thought she might be more of a stealthy thief. I basically abandoned my cunning, saddled myself with another Guard, and set up a strategy. The goal: get this Queen out of here before anything else, or anyone else, gets hurt. And if things went so wrong that anyone had to die, let it be me. Please. Sierra didn¡¯t hate me so much she¡¯d leave me un-reincarnated, not yet. I dashed out of the kitchen and sent her an Air Cutter with a whip of my whole body. This¡¯d goad her as I made my way to the door. Except, uh¡­ She was already standing in front of the door, and the Air Cutter had rocketed into the wall, ripping up logs. Um, good thing that Cutter hadn¡¯t knocked anything down. The Queen was holding a silver blade low, apparently to block my path. She looked like a glowing hockey player with a glowing whitish stick. Part of me got panicky. I needed to get outside, or else this place could get wrecked! But further inside of me, I saw the situation clearly. That deep inside, time seemed to slow. The Sapphire Queen was advancing, drawing her sword back¡­and keeping her face on me. I couldn¡¯t see her eyes through the glow¡ªwas beginning to wonder if she even still had those¡ªbut I imagined they¡¯d be staring. And watering. Looking at me without a break. Don¡¯t worry about your friends¡­because she isn¡¯t worried about them. I darted past her sword strike, gunning for her leg. While I had a feeling this wouldn¡¯t do much damage, I needed to see what her defensive baseline is, figure out how to conserve my SP when I¡ª What the?! I swore I had gotten past her sword! Instead, my face was hit with a blinding mass of shimmers¡ªwha, cubical shimmers?!¡ªand a blade bit into my face, the gash almost reaching my eyes.
HP 69% (414/598)
SP 78% (442/570)
I was knocked back. All the way back, into the wall with the Air Cutter wound, and sinking a little into the crevice. My mind reeled. That blow hadn¡¯t reduced my health too much. But that was because it had hardly even been a blow. The Queen had barely moved her wrists¡ªagain, like a hockey player. One who was merely blocking. So consider what she could do at full power. Or a fraction of her power, as long as her shimmers could keep me caught in the loop. I fell back onto my feet, saw the Queen for a moment. I was reminded of how oddly inelegant she was tonight, and yet I didn¡¯t get the sense that this was another person. All the same, it was odd to see her rising with a hunch, and letting the sword swing almost loose in her arms. She looked like a movie axe murderer¡ª She looked like she was using a Stat-changing blade. That part almost made too much sense now. Lose so much INT and you lose a part of yourself. Was that blade creating the shimmers too? I bet it was. Disarming her would probably be the key. Maybe it wouldn¡¯t stop anything, but it¡¯d certainly tank her Stats and make this a fair bit easier. But I couldn¡¯t just stand and think for much longer, the Queen was raring to go! Wait¡­she was, uh, taking her sweet time over there? This casualness had gone too far. She wasn¡¯t, like, hunched over, but now she was swinging that blade a little too¡­jollily. And then, in a move so fast and brusque it should have been accompanied by a bonelike crack, she actually split the sword in two. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. It was intact, though. Kinda. It had changed into two knives. Wh¡ª Why couldn¡¯t mine do that?! (Wait¡­could it?) She spun the knives in her hands like a showoff gunfighter before charging towards me. Okay, now I couldn¡¯t keep standing around thinking! I jumped as high and far ahead as I could without a Leap, and I was strong and springy enough that I certainly topped an ordinary cat. Latching onto her head from across the room would¡¯ve been a no-go¡ªlatching on from three feet away, and from a standing position, was no problem. Well¡­the one problem was the latching-on part. I could aim and fire, but she would intercept. Which she did. One shimmer and I was hovering in a part of the air I absolutely hadn¡¯t been a moment ago. A knife was coming for me, slashing in an arc. I took another Guard, ate the blow, and latched on. So I made it! Just not onto her face.
DEF 194 (+150%)
HP 46% (274/598)
SP 72% (410/570)
Dang! Under 50 percent HP?! That dampened my spirits a little. I mean, so did the knife cutting through my side and, actually, still kinda lodged in it. But now that I was on her wrist (and her other wrist was coming for me, armed and dangerous), I could not waste the moment. Hooking my claws between her fingers as best as I could, and forcing my side further into her knife (ow, ow), I then took a Leap, releasing her grip, sending me and the knife flying. The idea of putting that thing in my Inventory made me feel ickier than it should have. It warped reality, sure, but why would that make my skin crawl this way? It must¡¯ve been the other associations I had with the knife, the general aura of evil and wrong. Nonetheless, I put it in.
Butterfly Knife One half of the Bug Blade, a sword crafted by a smith from the Beyond and gifted to the Arkmagi themselves. When equipped, gives DEF, INT, and base SP a¡ª Error: Action banned by sysadmin.
SIERRA! I thought, frustration turning to utter outrage. Her weapon flew out of thin air and skidded across the kitchen counter. I missed, bouncing off the counter¡¯s edge¡­if you wanna call it a ¡°bounce.¡± Landing on my feet made for the perfect shock absorber, but the extra damage I¡¯d taken from shunting that blade away¡ªa good 40 or so¡ªstung with a radiating pain. Well, as long as I had no debuffs¡­ Wait, that wasn¡¯t good news. None of this was good news! I mean, I couldn¡¯t remember the whole item description, but I retained bits of it. I got ¡°the Beyond,¡± for one thing, and that was never a good buzzword. And¡­and this weapon raised DEF and INT. It didn¡¯t raise ATK. Let that sink in: it was not raising the Queen¡¯s Attack. I looked up at the Queen. Somehow, even though she had no mouth that I could see, she seemed delighted. Like, over the moon that I was messing with her. That movie-axe-murderer spirit was back in her, and I¡¯d been a sucker for hoping it¡¯d ever left. My eyes focused on her free hand. It had no blood. It shimmered and a knife appeared in it. Shoot. Well, what now? I thought. Well, I myself responded, let¡¯s just give her what she wants. The moment I¡¯d seen that item description, I figured I knew what she was after. Her hesitation said the same. She wanted a duel. But if she wanted one on even footing, she wasn¡¯t getting that, given her sky-high unadulterated ATK. First off, I Morphed. Dusting myself off, smearing away some face-blood, and putting on my best pout, I pointed towards the door like she was a bad dog. She studied me, not moving. This was not good. I didn¡¯t want her breaking up any furniture. But, uh¡­maybe this was a lost cause. I¡¯ve gotta be honest, I felt this thing was lost the moment I realized she wanted me to take out that golden blade. But nonetheless, I settled into my coolest combat pose, gave my fingers a preparatory wiggle, hoped my human-form reflexes were up to snuff¡­and I went for it. Here was my plan for the Debug Blade: equip, check stats, and if too many of them are too bad, unequip. Keep playing that lottery for the best ones. The flaws of the plan were the luck of the draw, but also the melty brainstate the sword put me in. Forget the pain¡ªMeditate might even fortify me against that, at least until the five minutes ran out. What if it didn¡¯t even occur to me to unequip? Maybe melt-brain wouldn¡¯t be so bad for the first few moments? The moment I got the sword, I checked my Stats.
HP 39% (231/598)
SP 72% (410/570) (x1)
ATK -336 (x-3)
INT 0 (x0)
DEF 194 (+150%)
WIS -288 (x-5 +100%)
SPD 91
My eyes bugged out. Then my inner monologue turned to relentless screaming. UNEQUIP UNEQUIP UNEQUIP UNEQUIP UNEQUIP¡ª But even that train of thought was drowned out by the sheer pandemonium raging in my head once the Sapphire Queen was upon me. By all appearances, she was no longer holding back. She had charged up to me in a flash and reared, Butterfly Knives out and ready for a cross-slash. Shimmers exploded from the knife edges, harder to see in my wavering vision. My head began to pound, and I thought I¡¯d cry, feeling utterly useless, at any moment. Part of me wanted to move, escape, and defend myself so bad, but my brain and body wouldn¡¯t let me. In fact, my limbs felt more fragile than jelly. I fell just before she struck. I expected to feel daggers in my guts. Instead, as my back hit the floor, I heard a clash of metal on metal. My mental disarray faded. My eyes opened again, and a gold blade, an almost-normal sword without a glow of aura or even a gleam, fell before me. ¡­While my huge Stat losses were gone, so were the Meditates I¡¯d opened the battle with. I could not comprehend what¡¯d happened for a long second. I just felt spent. The Queen was standing over me, but between us was the golden blade. She was looking down at her knives. Those weren¡¯t glowing either. Okay. So we both learned something tonight. Then a System message careened into view. I wouldn¡¯t have flinched harder if it¡¯d been a falling guillotine. Before I even read it, my inner voice thundered. I almost had her! I HAD HER, SIERRA! And you took that away! With your help, I learned that the swords counteract each other. Yeah, thanks, I would¡¯ve found that out the moment I started practicing with them, SOMETHING I HAVE BEEN PLANNING AND WAS FULLY INTENDING TO DO. But you¡¯re still acting like you¡¯re gone, huh? You don¡¯t have an excuse now, huh? Wow. I can think really fast when I¡¯m angry, huh. Then I actually looked at the message. Huh. It wasn¡¯t the same color as Sierra¡¯s messages, for one. Hers were purple. The ones from the System were gray. This was, um¡­sapphire. No one was waiting behind the message. The Queen herself was gone. The message she left was worth a groan.
Hehe You¡¯re good
91. Shifty Squares It didn¡¯t feel right to Catnap in the middle of all this mess¡ªin the physical mess of a torn wall, shattered plates and bloody trails and tracks on the floor, or the mental mess of whatever the heck the Sapphire Queen was trying to tell me. If, that is, she even wanted to tell me anything. Maybe it was just the influence of the Bug Blade doing it, but she seemed to just be messing with me¡­ Messing with me in a way that might just throw my friends in the line of fire. I had to warn them and tell them everything as soon as possible, but I also had a raging headache. Eh, they were asleep, they wouldn¡¯t mind. I just hoped the Catnap wouldn¡¯t overstay its welcome and nobody would accidentally step on my coiled-up body, then trip and faceplant in a blood-biohazard. About four hours later¡­
HP 64% (381/598)
SP 72% (410/570)
I felt surprisingly refreshed. I wasn¡¯t fully healed, of course, but¡­it must¡¯ve been such a stark contrast to my state before. I¡¯d fallen asleep right in the middle of the fracas. What I could see of the world outside the closest window, though, betrayed none of the havoc of the night. It was early morning now, and the sky was a dim blue. The trill of a bird told me that the enchantment on the cabin, and/or on me, had been lifted. A furious urge to clean overtook me. In the absence of stain remover, I could only clean myself¡ªso my rough tongue raked and raged over my blood-tinged fur. I instantly regretted this! Deciding to clean only my front paws thoroughly to start with, I then Morphed myself. Sandals helped me clomp through the kitchen without worrying about the shards. I grabbed a hand towel, clamped a hand around the sink spigot, and let it flow. I wasn¡¯t even that bloody. I¡¯d been more ragged before, years back. Yet I felt dirtier than I ever had in my life, so scrubbing everywhere was paramount. I did not know where to start with the kitchen and den, though. Just a glance made me want to cry. Hence I changed back to cat form as soon as I felt acceptably clean. There! No tears. Was anyone awake by now? My ears honed in and, as expected, didn¡¯t pick up any humanish ambient noise. Padding up the stairs, I noticed every bedroom door was closed. Again, expected. I gave the shadowy bathtub a longing look, but that could wait. For now, I put my ear up to Chora¡¯s door¡­nothing. Alright, then my plan was set. She was likely on the roof¡ªand she had never minded me interrupting her roof time before. At least, she tolerated it. I tried the doorknob with a human hand. Just attempting to wrangle it made me feel all clammy. Getting all my fingers to clasp around it was a feat of coordination I still couldn¡¯t muster, so instead I clapped both hands around it and twisted with my whole arms. Dang, if a doorknob was this bad, I didn¡¯t want to know how I¡¯d look actually using the Debug Blade. In any case, the thing popped open. Glad I wouldn¡¯t have to clamp my cat-jaws around that knob and use the ¡°twist and shout¡± method of door-opening I had once on Earth, I walked into a room I¡¯d only seen in candlelit darkness for so long. Now it was¡­still in darkness, and without candles, but at least Chora had drawn the curtains back so a slowly brightening square could shine in. Standing on the bed allowed me to reach the hatch on the door and tug the cord. The hatch opened and a ladder slid down¡ªtoo fast for my liking, slamming the lower end on the ground. WHOOMPH. Well, at least it was over as quickly as it¡¯d happened. I inwardly apologized for startling Chora¡­and anyone else. As I climbed, I tasted the morning air. Hm¡­ The breeze was fresh. It should¡¯ve been refreshing in the wake of the savannah, snow, and swamps I¡¯d been through in the past thirty-ish hours. But wasn¡¯t there a change in the ambiance around here? Not like the soundless cabin, but like a second Spell, indescribably subtle, one that didn¡¯t hit the senses as much as the¡­ Never mind, maybe it really did hit the senses. My head popped over the roof to find Chora relentlessly sweeping, over and over, the same spot. It was sparkling. As if someone had not only poured on glitter, but poured it onto a glue-laden surface. And I knew Chora would never glue things to her roof. All around her stood the typical rooftop things: workout equipment, a few chairs with a table and a closed parasol. A bluejay watched from the railing. Sometimes I¡¯d seen sparrows hopping in a corner, the one with the least human stuff on it. There were none now, and I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d scared them off. The glimmers stretched in a band, like a scale model of the Milky Way if the scale model was really bad. Where they were most concentrated, Chora swept. In the middle of her sweeping, head ducked, her shoulders shook. She paused, looking up at me with only her eyes. ¡°You startled me,¡± she said. ¡°And you came through my room.¡± Oh yeah, I guessed the door had been pretty closed. But it was the fastest way to get to her, and I needed someone to talk to, right? I didn¡¯t wanna be clambering up the gutters just to reach her. ¡°Well,¡± she murmured, ¡°I guess it¡¯s alright. It helps that you don¡¯t speak¡ªmuch.¡± She went back to sweeping. I phased into cat form, walked over, and took a closer, ground-level look. If Merianne had had bigger letters, I would have spelled out ¡°STOP ITS NOT GONNA MOVE.¡± But Chora was determined, and that was her folly. Again, the shimmers turned out to be squarish. And was it me, or did they seem to change their shapes before my eyes? Like tiny particles that assembled and disassembled and whizzed to one another faster than the brain could track¡­ Theorizing about this any more would give me a new headache. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Alright, watching her sweep like this was just too pathetic. I poofed into a form with hands and held up a palm to stop her. She took a step back and set the broom down. ¡°I know,¡± she said after a voiceless sigh. ¡°It¡¯s not just dust or anything like that. Still, um¡­it feels cathartic to keep trying.¡± She bowed slightly. ¡°I¡¯ll begin my exercises.¡± That wasn¡¯t my concern at all! I mean, good on her for healthy routines or whatever, but¡­instead I took her by the hand. Slowly¡ªI didn¡¯t wanna do any more startling right now¡ªand walked with her around the rooftop rail. I wanted to survey the world around the cabin with her, especially the front door. Yes, if I looked right at the doorway and focused, I could see a hint of a glimmering trail. Hopefully nobody would be stepping in that. They might end up ten meters away. The other side took me above the kitchen window. There I saw fewer glimmers, but it did seem to confirm that a certain someone had tapped at the window, passing over the roof in transit. Why this glitter was localized around this cabin was just a mystery, though¡ªhad she warped in? Whether or not Chora¡¯s eyesight was as strong as mine, clearly she was seeing the same thing. ¡°Who did this?¡± she muttered. I pointed anxiously to the hatch, and gave her hand a slight tug for good measure. Chora bowed harder. ¡°Yes, spirit.¡± We descended into the cave that was her room, and as she pulled out the board, I reflected that that would hopefully be the last time she ever called me ¡°spirit.¡± The time of reverence was over! The time for action (and cantrips) was now! Except I couldn¡¯t stop her from lighting the candles. I tried, with a wilting ¡°meow,¡± but maybe she wasn¡¯t doing this to honor me so much as guard against the evil that had spread those shifty shimmers. We sat with the spirit board in what could have been the stillness of an empty house. Before we began, I gave the cantrip around my neck a poke. The cobalt gem was comfortable against my skin, the same temperature as myself. ¡°That is some nice jewelry,¡± Chora said. Er, not my point. Well, seeing is believing. With my eyes peeled open to demonstrate that I hadn''t entered a trancelike state, I shuffled the glass around the board, spelling words at speeds once thought impossible! ¡°HEY CHORA. MY NAME IS TAIPHA. I AM A CAT. NOT A SPIRIT CAT GOD WHATEVER. JUST REGULAR CAT. WITH HUMAN POWER AS BONUS? I CAN READ NOW. NOT IN TRANCE¡± For the first time in a minute, I blinked at her. She went on staring at the board. Eventually she nodded, looking spellbound. She whispered, ¡°Right¡­ Nice to truly meet you, Taipha the normal cat, with human power as bonus. May I apologize for the earlier indiscretions?¡± ¡°NO.¡± ¡°¡­Can I say ¡®sorry¡¯?¡± ¡°YES I KNOW YOURE SORRY¡± She lifted a pensive fist to her mouth. ¡°Got it¡­¡± ¡°OK SO EVIL SPIRIT CAME LAST NIGHT. MADE HOLE IN WALL. PRETTY BAD. STUFF BROKE. PLEASE HELP CLEAN?¡± Chora squinted. Somewhere along the line, she¡¯d begun to grit her teeth. Maybe she was just angry at the perpetrator, but maybe, just maybe¡­she was also annoyed because I still had to talk with the dang spirit board. My mind was in a tumult! Not only was I trying hard to get as much information into as few letters as possible¡ªmoving from letter to letter in a way that someone else could actually, reliably follow, and with stops and starts between words, was so time-consuming¡ªI was also just, um, not sure how to talk in general. This and my awkwardness with Reed last night gave me the sour feeling that I was just¡­permanently awkward. It wasn¡¯t my fault I¡¯d had like twenty-ish days with language skills and an hour tops in human form! Chora had to know that! Wait¡­no, she didn¡¯t know that because I hadn¡¯t told anybody yet. Anyway, communicating this way was way way better than nothing. I kept going. ¡°OK MORE INFO. LADY SHOWED UP AT POND. LOOKED EVIL. CAME BACK LAST NIGHT. EVIL. BEAT ME UP. LAUGHED AT ME. ANYTHING SEEM FAMILIAR?¡± ¡°Is it supposed to? I mean, we both read that poem about four ¡®pond ladies,¡¯ if that¡¯s what you wanna call them.¡± She cleared her throat. ¡°There are innumerable spirits passing through this world alone. If you tried to catalogue them, more would constantly be flooding in while the ones you had would be flooding out. Sand through a sieve. Maybe this ¡®evil lady,¡¯ whoever she is, she came back from a long time ago. It may also be that she came from the future. Spacetime is weird. But probably she came from the present. This is a tangent.¡± ¡°Meow?¡± I said interrogatively. Chora shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re gonna have to spell it.¡± ¡°WHAT DO WE DO¡± ¡°About her? Or in general?¡± ¡°OK WAIT MORE INFO¡± ¡°Um?¡± ¡°WEIRD TIME ROCKS FOUND IN FOREST. MET DEGALLE. WEIRD BOOK¡± And I went on to describe, in as much janky telegraph-quality detail as I could manage, the anomalies of the Vencian Wood that I¡¯d discovered so far. The time-slowing rocks, the emptying mountains, and the book delivered unto me by a girl whose only personality trait I could peg for sure was ¡°SHE LAUGHS.¡± The visit in the night and the teleporting dust. The golden blade and its silver counterpart, the fact that they both ¡°MAKE STRONGER SOMETIMES OR MAKE WAY WEAKER,¡± and my ultra-secret, mind-blowingly brilliant plan for how to use them successfully. ¡°Oh, so that¡¯s how the Drunken Dragon¡¯s Blade works,¡± Chora said. Immediately she followed up with, ¡°You might remember that I didn¡¯t get any stronger or weaker when I grabbed the blade at all. If I held it, you grabbed it, and it gave you another terrible headache and stuff, I could just push you off. Then you could grab it again until it works. But you already considered that, right? I apologize for my impu¡ªoh wait, yeah, no more holy reverence, sorry.¡± The first human I told came up with the solution immediately. Of course. ¡°MIGHT STILL NOT WORK,¡± I said. ¡°PUTS INT TO 0¡± She leaned forward and squinted hard again. ¡°Puts what to zero?¡± ¡°INTELLIGENCE¡± ¡°Ah, as in Attack, Intelligence, Defense, Wisdom, Speed? The Five Critical Values?¡± ¡°FIVE WHAT¡± ¡°Five Critical Values.¡± ¡°SURE BUT¡­¡± The glass hovered on the ¡°T¡± as I paused to think. ¡°I JUST CALL THEM STATS¡± ¡°Interesting. ¡®Stats¡¯ implies that they have numbers.¡± Now I squinted. ¡°THEY DO HAVE NUMBERS¡± Chora seemed to be considering this as a philosophical question, not unlike after the lycanborn debacle when I first told her I was a cat, and she¡¯d been like ¡°wait, you¡¯re a cat?!?!¡± Hm, knowing that cats were semimythical beings here shed some light on that¡­ Hopefully I¡¯d get some of that light now too, since this made even less sense. ¡°I guess you could quantify the numerical strength of a muscle,¡± she said, ¡°or the numerical intelligence of a human being, but really that could never be accurate. Brainpower and physical power are just too¡­diverse, too manifold, and too variable. How many numbers would we need to build an accurate simulation of a body¡¯s worth of musculature, for instance? One for every limb? No, more likely one for every atom. Or every particle smaller than that¡­¡± With furious force, I shook my head! ¡°NO ITS JUST ONE NUMBER!¡± I said, jabbing the exclamation mark! ¡°I HAVE 112 ATK CHORA. 2419 EXP OF 3150 EXP!!!!!¡± ¡°Why do you have two thousand exponents?¡± My spelling was getting sloppy. ¡°U MEAN U DNOT GET STRORNGR WITH SYSTMEM??¡± ¡°With¡­what?¡± I racked my brain for a better way to explain it¡ªbefore realizing that Chora¡¯s reaction said it all. She had no System. ¡°NO?¡± I asked, just in case. ¡°N¡­no¡­I don¡¯t think I get stronger with a system. Unless you mean like a daily routine¡­but I don¡¯t think you mean that.¡± I¡¯d calmed down. ¡°HOW DO U GET STRONGER?¡± ¡°By exercising. You¡¯ve seen me exercise.¡± ¡°YEAH BUT U DONT GET STRONGER WITH NUMBERS?¡± ¡°I mean¡­I do know math.¡± ¡°OK BUT NUMBERS IN HEAD DONT TRAIN UR MUSCLES LITERALLY¡± ¡°No, because we don¡¯t live in a role-playing game.¡± Well, maybe you don¡¯t¡­ ¡°FINE WHAT ABOUT REED. IS SHE AN RPG PERSON?¡± Chora gave me a look that I would¡¯ve sworn was vicious if I hadn¡¯t known her well. ¡°No. And not Bayce either.¡± ¡°BUT I AM¡± ¡°Not to superseded a potential higher being,¡± Chora said, rocking forward, ¡°but I assume that goes back to you truly, actually being some kind of soulbound spirit.¡± She pointed in my face. ¡°Even if you deny it.¡± ¡°WELL I WAS REINCARNATED HERE. MAYBE RELATED¡± ¡°Wh-why didn¡¯t you say that earlier?!¡± ¡°SHRUG! TOO MUCH TO SAY!¡± Chora all but jumped upright. ¡°What I want you to do is lay out every single atypical thing about yourself that might be even a little bit relevant. That should clear up your head, not to mention my own. We can then present our findings in an orderly fashion to the two other girls. That way, they won¡¯t be hopelessly confused. Sound good?¡± ¡°Meow?!¡± 92. Purplexing Agreenment The sun rose high! The cabin awakened! Birdsong and summer breezes filled the air. Reed opened the door to her room and peeked out, stifling a yawn. Soon she would discover that downstairs was a mess and several plates were totally busted¡­but before that, she would see me, on the stairs, sitting behind an explanatory piece of paper. That was kind of the best warning Chora and I could give. Better than having them see it for themselves first and scream! Naturally, I had that thought right before another cry from another bedroom. ¡°Ah, another wonderfu¡ªgood gosh!¡± My cat form cat-gulped. Why was Bayce screaming?! She burst through her door, looking more unkempt and drowsy than I¡¯d ever seen her. ¡°Something¡¯s up,¡± she rattled off to Reed. ¡°Don¡¯t know what, but there¡¯s some kind of plague on this house.¡± Reed¡¯s shoulders stiffened. ¡°A plague¡­what?¡± ¡°Like an evil influence. Or¡­not evil, just off.¡± She whirled a hand by her head. ¡°It hit my mind about as soon as I woke up.¡± ¡°I believe you, but I don¡¯t feel anything.¡± She massaged her head. ¡°Or do I?¡± ¡°Meow!¡± I said it extra loud to get their attention. They looked down at me and the piece of paper on which Chora had helpfully written, ¡°An evil spirit wrought havoc in the den and kitchen. Chora and I will explain more. Have breakfast?¡± That¡¯s right. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Not only were we about to have a serious breakfast¡­it was going to be facilitated by Chora, the woman of no breakfast. Once again she was acting as my sage keeper, but I truly appreciated it this time. We¡¯d cleaned downstairs together¡ªsome tough hardwood stains that needed chemicals notwithstanding¡ªbut she and her non-jiggly hands had done most of the work. And with her as facilitator, this whole conversation was bound to be five weeks shorter than it would''ve been with just me explaining. Chora was a horrible cook. That along with her morning taste for solitude were critical reasons why she rarely came down for group breakfast. But give her credit where it''s due: she kept it simple, not wanting to make the food situation worse. The scrambled eggs were burnt, and while all the green and purple things hiding in the egg-mash were just more cool exotic fruits to me, Bayce grimly snarked that after the cooking they were "completely unrecognizable." I enjoyed it, though¡ªagain, I¡¯m used to eating literal garbage, so while I knew this was bad, it was better than raw eggs. Also, the sparkling apple-ish juice was decent. Chora didn''t make that part. Bayce did not look happy. If Reed was tense, Bayce was three times tenser. She¡¯d looked out the windows before Chora had started serving food, and just glancing toward the silver dust in either direction had made her shiver. Nonetheless, they both sat in near-quiet as Chora set things up. We all knew she wanted to take control of the situation. As we waited, I made some room on the table and brought out the spirit board¡ªclunky, and something that needed a tinier substitute for when I went on the road with anyone, but good for now. My eyes drifted between the housemates speaking and the board''s elegant letters. Chora set down a jug of ice water, stood behind me, and began. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, everyone¡ªin the sympathy sense, not in the I-caused-this sense.¡± Reed reached over and set a hand on her shoulder. ¡°You¡¯ve done more than enough, Chora.¡± She glanced pointedly at the empty seat. ¡°Have you eaten yet?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t really¡­well¡­¡± She winced, but nodded and took a seat. Turning to her, I spelled out, ¡°IM OK. SIT¡± Seeing me spell words with my paw put a sparkle in Bayce¡¯s eye. She wasn¡¯t exactly relaxing, but¡­she was intrigued. She mouthed, ¡°Cool¡­¡± As Chora loaded a plate with far more eggs than I¡¯d anticipated, she said quite formally, ¡°Our friend Taipha, the seminormal cat, has entrusted me with the telling of the story of what happened. Since it would take so much time fo¡ª¡± She stopped when Bayce raised her hand. "Come on, Bayce, I haven¡¯t even started. How is this a time for questions?" "Nobody told me she had a name!" Bayce said incredulously. Chora wrinkled her nose at her. "Thanks for adding that new information. Like I was saying..." Bayce still had her hand up. "Yes, Bayce." Stolen novel; please report. "Taipha, I was just wondering...why is your name unpronounceable?" Wha...? No it wasn''t, she was pronouncing my name right now! Reed gave Bayce a frowny face. ¡°I know all this is strange and rough, but taking it out on Chora¡¯s eggs and Taipha¡¯s name¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯m not!¡± she said, raising her hands palms-forward. ¡°It''s just...logistically weird. Like, you have a cat mouth, and most of what you say is ''meow.'' That''s true, right? So why...why would your name have ''T'' sounds and ''F'' sounds in it?¡± I...I didn''t know what to say. Though her thought process seemed alien at first, she was totally right. I stared for a good few seconds, then set a paw on my board and spelled out, "YEAH DUNNO IT WAS JUST SOUNDS I ALWAYS HAD IN MY SOUL. CATS DONT TELL NAMES." The table patiently received my message, collectively nodding as if my statement¡ªwhich had felt to me like little more than a "whatever I dunno"¡ªwere the wisest thing of all time. Reed added knowingly, "There''s a novel about cats where each cat has their own personal name, one that''s both earned and supremely expressive of who they are." My eyes flashed with curiosity. "NAMES?" "Uh...I think they were all things like Rumbleskumble." Oh... With that long prelude over, Chora proceeded to the meat of the story. Or the several meats. Given that Chora had gotten my life story and summaries of lots of weird Vencian adventures out of me earlier, there was way too much ground to cover. But she could start with the essentials. ¡°There seems to be a spirit coming to Taipha again and again. Toying with her. We¡¯ve decided to call her the Sapphire Queen, and we think that at least one old local poem predicts her arrival. She literally broke in last night just to battle Taipha¡ªand as you¡¯ve guessed, she left this powder everywhere. It¡¯s not just outside. It¡¯s on the roof too.¡± ¡°I knew it,¡± Bayce mumbled, twitching. ¡°Oh, and she¡¯s cocky. That¡¯s the most annoying part.¡± ¡°Meow,¡± I said with a nod. ¡°She didn¡¯t want to fight Taipha until she was holding the Drunken Dragon¡¯s Blade¡ªwhich, by the way, might give us no power boosts, but gives Taipha a huge upgrade under certain conditions. No doubt in my mind that she was chosen by the dragon¡­and most likely deliberately set up to duel the Sapphire Queen.¡± A pretty elegant summary, actually. Reed lifted a hand to her mouth. ¡°I had no idea that any of¡ªthat you¡ªwow¡­¡± Frazzled, she shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m sorry you had to go through that alone. I-I almost can¡¯t believe it. You were attacked. In my house. It won¡¯t happen again.¡± I gave Reed a serious glare. Was she trying to protect me? From a berserker who had to have stratospheric stats and levels? That was a line I preferred not to cross¡ªputting her or the other cabin humans in the line of fire. I could recover, they could not. She looked taken aback for a moment, but then she steeled herself and glared right back. ¡°I mean it,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t care if you¡¯re stronger than us. There¡¯s strength in numbers, and just¡­you shouldn¡¯t have to be alone.¡± ¡°But¡­doesn¡¯t Taipha have to be alone?¡± Bayce said. After Chora¡¯s summary, the light in her eyes had changed again. Now her expression was cooler, aloof. ¡°Think about it. The Queen came for her. She attacked only her. If there is now a plague upon the house¡­it seems to only be a consequence of the Queen going after her.¡± I sat up straight and nodded enthusiastically! Yes, exactly my point! ¡°So we need¡ªno offense¡ªto send Taipha into exile!¡± I froze. Reed and Chora didn¡¯t want to admit it, but¡­there was a big gash in the cabin wall, one made by a weapon we couldn¡¯t comprehend. Whose fault was that? Not theirs. Technically not mine, and yet it kinda was. I had been alone before. I probably had the power and wits to do it again, and better. There was a strong chance that I needed to do it. But¡­I didn¡¯t want to. The idea actually hurt. That fact threw a wrench into things. There was a silence. Chora stepped in. ¡°Well, I haven¡¯t told you everything,¡± she said. I looked up at her with luminous eyes, and seriously debated hugging her, or nuzzling, or even allowing for scritches¡ªjust to thank her for the distraction. But I stayed still, not wanting to throw her off her game. ¡°Taipha¡¯s found many other things that could be turned to our advantage¡­¡± And here it was. The fire hydrant of facts was unleashed, and knowledge gushed across the table. Of how I had found a suspicious sword buried alongside the time stones northwest of here. Of how the Queen had appeared to me on the water, and given me a heretofore-kinda-useless, definitely ominous book. Of how I had been¡ª ¡°A planet without magic?!¡± Bayce almost sounded furious. ¡°She didn¡¯t say her birthplace had no magic,¡± Reed said, ¡°she just¡­strongly implied it? Is that right?¡± ¡°That¡¯s so sad!¡± ¡°It had advanced technology,¡± Chora said. ¡°I mean, to its detriment, but still.¡± Bayce perked up ever so slightly. ¡°Did they have free universal public teleportation?¡± She looked to Chora and Chora looked to me. I didn¡¯t exactly know what Bayce just said, but I ended up shaking my head. Given the country I¡¯d lived in, no, most things cost money there¡­ Thirty minutes later, we had covered significant ground. Chora and I had resisted the idea of answering too many questions at first, but soon the whole table was engrossed, and even I came to relish the chance to practice spelling speedily. Within half an hour, I had described to them¡ªin long and painstaking words¡ªmy former homeland¡¯s national highway system, its interaction with the pathetic national railway system, the general evolution of cars, the purpose of stoplights, the colors of a stoplight, several variations of stoplights, and at that point I stopped being so into it because the only thing on my mind was why were they all so into stoplights? I mean, Bayce I could understand, but everyone? At least Sierra had implanted random Earth knowledge in my head that could entertain them all, I guessed. I squinted at them. ¡°WHY¡± ¡°It¡¯s just so beautiful to imagine these colorful shining lights waving from wires in the breeze, unifying humanity,¡± Reed said. Chora shrugged. ¡°Order in the chaos.¡± ¡°You have to spend so much time driving because you don¡¯t have the magic to teleport,¡± Bayce said, shaking her head. ¡°And your whole country has to change shape to accommodate it just to make all you drivers feel better. That¡¯s rough.¡± ¡°I DIDNT DRIVE, BAYCE¡± ¡°Oh yeah.¡± ¡°WELL ANYWAY LETS STRATEGIZE?¡± They all started blinking and rubbing dazes out of their eyes. Reed was the first to sit bolt-straight and proclaim, ¡°I know it¡¯s been lingering in the back of our minds, but I¡¯m not kicking Taipha out if I can help it. We have many, many ways to fight back. And¡ªand I can get scuffed up!¡± ¡°BUT U CANT DIE AND COME BACK. I DID¡± ¡°Right! ¡­Wait, you didn¡¯t tell us that part!!¡± Meanwhile, Chora stared motionlessly and Bayce was gasping with shock. See? There was always, always more ground to cover¡­ 93. Its Really Elementary After breakfast, Bayce fled to the basement, then to her room, tallying up all the magical resources we had in the cabin¡ªeverything that was made and could be made. Reed insisted on cleaning up the breakfast table and washing all the dishes. Chora and I took those minutes to talk shop. Combat-wise, I probably had something to learn from all of them, but her fighting style was definitely the closest to mine. Even if we had different ways of flailing our bodies into foes, we both were still, essentially, flailing our bodies into foes. With the spirit board between us as we sat on the ends of the couch, Chora told me about her favorite lyen-chunst techniques: front kicks, windmill kicks, something called a ¡°corkscrew kick¡± that I couldn¡¯t even visualize¡­ ¡°Mreaow,¡± I said, shaking my head. ¡°Oh. It¡¯s all going over your head, isn¡¯t it?¡± I spelled out, ¡°JUST FOCUS ON THE MOST HELPFUL PART PLZ¡± ¡°What¡¯s a¡­did you say ¡®peels¡¯?¡± I made a little breathless sigh. ¡°MAYBE PLEEZ IS BETTER?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think we have to plead for help just yet, Taipha.¡± ¡°NOOOOO!¡± I screeched in silence, whacking my paw against the ¡°O¡± for effect. Then I calmed down and replied sweetly, ¡°I MEANT PLEASE¡± ¡°Oh! Yeah, that makes more sense.¡± Reed was done by this time, and with her joining in, the conversation actually felt more streamlined. ¡°Why don¡¯t we start from the strengths you have already?¡± Reed said, and Chora nodded in agreement. ¡°UM¡­¡± My paw lingered on the period. How would I describe¡­myself? Describing anything was already a big hurdle lately. ¡°I PUT MY ALL INTO POWER, THROW MYSELF AT PPL. I MEAN PEOPLE¡± ¡°So you like pure power,¡± Reed said, and I nodded. Chora said, ¡°That¡¯s funny. I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d say that at all.¡± Wh¡­what did she mean?! I loved my claws, and those Fire and Attack Up Spells I¡¯d used with Reed were amazing! ¡°When we fought together, I saw a lot of movement. I saw a love of movement. You¡¯re not, like, a powerlifter-type.¡± ¡°And what is a powerlifter-type exactly?¡± Reed said, grinning brightly, blinking way too many times in a single second. ¡°You know, uh, not tactical.¡± Chora didn¡¯t budge, but¡­she was shaken. This was dangerous territory. Two humans were bantering in a way that definitely sounded insulting without the context of their friendship, and I was caught in the middle of it. But wait! I was their friend too! ¡°REED IS TACTICAL!¡± I cried spellingly. ¡°THE TACTIC IS SHE USES A SWORD AND EVERYTHING DIES. WHATEVER WORKS. OK BUT ALSO SHE IS REALLY STRONG AND HER SPEED IS NOT THAT SLOW¡± Reed flushed more and more with every word. Which was weird because I wasn¡¯t any kind of next-level writer. Then again, I was starting to wonder if getting flustered like this was just normal for friends. Don¡¯t worry about it! Just worry about Reed¡¯s SPD, and weep for it. ¡°Ah, come on,¡± Reed said, trying and failing to laugh off her obvious blush. ¡°It¡¯s not my Speed that made me keep losing those races, it¡¯s my stamina!¡± ¡°That¡¯s still bad,¡± Chora said. ¡°M-moving on¡ªI think I see what Chora was getting at with your fighting style. You certainly like to move¡­less like fire, more like wind.¡± ¡°Or¡­¡± Chora was stroking her chin now. ¡°Ice.¡± ¡°Wait. Lightning!¡± ¡°You know what¡¯d be super interesting for her? Earth.¡± Reed looked like her conspirator. ¡°Or the flow of water¡­¡± ¡°Meow???¡± That got them to turn back. ¡°Oh,¡± Reed said, ¡°we¡¯re sorry. It¡¯s just exciting to talk about people¡¯s elements sometimes. They can say so much about them.¡± People had elements? Well, what sense did that make for those of us whose Skills involved multiple elements? I, for example, had Skills representing Wind, Neutral, Neutral¡­and¡­and Sleep? And the Queen had the element of Shimmers? Yeah, can¡¯t forget about that one! She seemed to sense my confusion. ¡°It¡¯s not so much the elements we have as the ones we choose to specialize in.¡± ¡°Like with Equipment,¡± Chora said. ¡°Most weapons will have innate elements, and by channeling our energies through them, we¡¯ll activate their power. The other ways are via Spells and the Skills that come with martial arts. And frankly,¡± she added, ¡°I¡¯m amazed there are people on this planet who go their whole lives without at least one of them.¡± Reed coughed. ¡°Let¡¯s bring this back to how Taipha can fight more effectively.¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Just when I thought it was getting interesting! But deep down, I did agree¡ªlet¡¯s move forward. Just had to remember where we left off. ¡°THEN I SHOULD LOOK INTO MOVING FASTER AND ALSO ELEMENTS?¡± ¡°That¡¯s a good way to put it,¡± Reed said. I knew she was lying just to make me feel better¡ªit was merely a decent way to put it. Or maybe she had low standards, bless her heart. ¡°But rather than simply ¡®moving faster,¡¯ think of it as focusing on your movement.¡± Chora said, ¡°Disorient the enemy. Jump to places you¡¯ve never jumped before.¡± Huh, when they put it that way, I did begin to wonder why I was so aggro and not more pinball-bouncy. Typically when I moved, I was either barreling forward or running away. Now, though, at Level 21, I had the springiness to rebound off branches, kickstart off ceilings, and weather what would have been bone-shaking landings¡ªstill on my feet. I remembered Leaping off the Queen¡¯s weapon. That gambit had been so satisfying! Until it totally failed. But the next time possibly wouldn¡¯t!! ¡°I CAN LEAP FOREVER,¡± I said. ¡°Taipha, are you okay? Your eyes have, um, glazed over.¡± ¡°YEAH REED. THANKS FOR CARING.¡± I paused to refocus my focus. ¡°WAIT I MEAN OOPS THATS NOT SARCASM!!!!!¡± *** Besides trying to refine my combat skills and strats, I had some other business in the Vencian Wood that¡¯d been lingering for a while. Sure, there was my Map Quest, and that looked more enticing than ever¡­but my progress with that was going to be slower than I would¡¯ve liked. Today I¡¯d fill more of it out, but if the Queen wanted a rematch anytime soon, I wouldn¡¯t have the seventy-billion additional levels to confront her with. That was fine. I¡¯d progress in the ways that I could right now, and get to some smaller loose ends. Chora newly pledged her allegiance to me, but like in a secular way this time. Before she ran off to light incense (slightly secular incense, I trusted), she vowed to trek to the village in the afternoon and read all the books she could get her hands on that might hold an inkling of information on the threat we were all now facing. Surely she couldn¡¯t read all the books in all of Outlast, or even in that one hotel! But maybe she knew what she was doing, what with all those human book-research skills she presumably had. I could only bow my head and thank her. Reed, meanwhile, was going to write her mother Lily, that famous mage teaching at some fancy university. After all, if the signs of supernatural threats building around our cabin were going to spiral out of control, we might need all the help we could get. And not DeGalle either, because while she didn¡¯t seem all bad or merely ruthless, this was still not a DeGalle-loving household. And either way, I would not entrust my life to her. She beat up a cat once! Hopefully Sierra could get back on the Goddess Hotline eventually just to gossip about what happened there. Bayce had returned to her room by now, and things in there sounded pretty quiet. No frantic cabinet-pulling or anything. It was about time to pop in and ask about my Spell options, especially with the new food for thought Reed and Chora had given me about the whole thing. But first¡­ The door to Reed¡¯s room had been left cracked open. Was it an invitation for me specifically? I wove my way through, making hardly a sound. Reed''s room was bright with still-early sunlight, though the yellow beams were changing to midday white. On the windowsill, I thought I saw a new picture or two. Photographs of a stag in the light. Dust motes bobbed around her as her pencil worked at a letter, churning across the page, pausing often, and erasing. I made a soft "meow," enough to get her attention. I was testing the waters -- if she needed to stay put and concentrate without talking to me, that was fine too. This letter could be lifesaving, after all. But she set her pencil down and turned to me with a sigh that, to my ears, sounded relieved. "Come in," she said with a warm smile, sunlight edging her hair and face. I walked in. Then I paused, turned back, and yanked the spirit board in behind me, jolting the door open more. I felt like such a clumsy dog dragging a big board in this way, but it was either that, poofing it in overdramatically, or using a book, and the books had way smaller letters. I set the board near her chair and spelled out, "BESIDES BAD THINGS HOW ARE YOU?" "U-um, I''m fine. I''m great! Thank you for asking! How are you?" "NERVOUS. ELECTRIC. GOOD THO. THO MEANS THOUGH. HOW WAS THE TRIP FOR YOU?" Reed left her chair and sat on the floor beside me. I stretched out my back, letting her run her hand softly across it. That put me at ease, just a bit, and it seemed to help her nerves too. "It was amazing. That stag...and seeing the mountains again, and all the animals...and just hanging out with you more. It was spectacular." She added with a chuckle, "And my legs still hurt!" Memories of all the racing victories I''d had yesterday ran through my mind. "SORRY KINDA," I said. Instead of making a sentence like "GOOD TRIP FOR ME TOO," which just felt redundant, I let my head do the talking by laying it on Reed''s leg and purring for a few contented moments. Reed¡¯s tone dipped slightly. ¡°I doubt my mother is going to do much to help. She¡¯s so busy.¡± This surprised me so much I actually mraowed out loud. I swatted at the spirit board. ¡°BUT WHAT IF EVERYTHING GETS DESTROYED? OR EVEN JUST UR HOME? SHE WOULD LET IT HAPPEN???¡± Reed paused. I could tell she was distraught¡ªnot letting herself get her hopes up. ¡°Yes. In a worst-case scenario, she would break out our absolute largest and heaviest-duty suitcases, put the cabin in, and go.¡± ¡°¡­U CAN PACK A CABIN?¡± ¡°Bayce was right, it is a little sad if your old world didn¡¯t have magic.¡± Alright, good¡ªshe wasn¡¯t looking quite so down. I didn¡¯t want to send her back into the mire of worry, but, well¡­she would head back in anyway, writing that letter. I was too curious. ¡°WHAT DO U THINK UR MOM WILL SAY?¡± ¡°About¡­you?¡± I shook my head fervently. A little too fervently, apparently, because then Reed¡¯s eyes got kind of sad and squinchy. She added quickly, ¡°I-I¡¯ll find a way not to mention you if you don¡¯t¡ª¡± ¡°NO ITS NOT THAT! I MEAN¡­HOW WILL SHE JUSTIFY NOT HELPING? UR HER DAUGHTER AND SHE LIKES YOU!¡± ¡°I think she¡¯ll say¡­¡± Reed put her hands on her hips and lowered her pitch. ¡°¡®What a perfect opportunity for you to have a proper adventure! Mom¡¯s sorry she can¡¯t come by, but here, have a book about supernatural occurrences in this other, totally different forest, plus this fancy shield! They might help! Now, write me again if the cabin floods or something!¡¯¡± ¡°Mreaough?! U MEAN SHE WONT SPREAD AWARENESS ON COLLEGE CAMPUS?!?!¡± Reed dropped her arms and flopped over. ¡°I doubt it.¡± I could feel my tail twitching. This world was something else. Then again, I wasn¡¯t exactly counting on help from outside the woods (and outside the afterlife). Deep down, I felt convinced that I could handle it¡­somehow. ¡°Well, I think I¡¯d better get back to writing that letter,¡± Reed said, sighing and standing. ¡°I have to try.¡± ¡°I DONT THINK ILL BE BACK TONIGHT. TRAINING¡± Reed blinked. ¡°Oh, for a moment I was afraid you were running away. Which¡­I really, really don¡¯t want you to feel forced to do.¡± The word ¡°night¡± reminded me. I looked around Reed¡¯s room, at the carvings, the erratic paintings, and the bed. A single bed. I¡¯d felt so lonely downstairs last night, like an interloper more than a guest. And Reed herself had said that she didn¡¯t want me to be alone, so¡­maybe it would be better for me to sleep up here? Or it would have been, if not for the fact that the Sapphire Queen could likely cut off her head in a heartbeat. That left a bitter taste in my mouth as I reached my head out to allow her one last head-rub and a brush against my chin. This, at least, was starting to become a little therapeutic for me. It was so nice to know people like her I could trust. Now it was time to look toward the road. I had to get back outside and make a beeline for the east¡ªbut first, Spells. 94. High Gravitation I turned my attention to Bayce¡¯s bedroom door. What was I hearing in there? It wasn¡¯t the slow shuffle of Bayce skimming through papers or sliding her chair across the floor. Maybe she was looking through the Spells one last time and she didn¡¯t like what she was seeing. That would explain what I thought was a groan of concern. Well, I wasn¡¯t getting anywhere with my ear plastered to the wood like this. I just had to go in! But the door was closed. I guessed that part mattered? I knocked on the door, but Bayce didn¡¯t answer either way, probably because she was preoccupied. In hindsight, it was more likely because I had knocked with my paw and paws are soft. Whatever. A bedroom was not a bathroom! Bayce had told me to come up here and consult her about Spells and cantrips, and I would not let her inadvertently postpone the day¡¯s adventuring! Besides, she just groaned again! She sounded so concerned!! I Morphed, let out a decently loud ¡°meow¡± to announce myself, twisted the doorknob two-handed, and stepped in. Bayce was sitting on the side of the sloppy bed, which, while only half-cleared of papers, had clearly been used. One hand held a book and the other hovered in the air, certainly looking like she¡¯d been moving it frantically and I¡¯d caught her mid-action. She looked at me with the most frightened, frightening smile I had seen from her. If I had to attempt to describe what was on the cover of her book, it would be ¡°Victorian sexy pumpkin maid.¡± And I could not say why, but about two seconds after I came in, Bayce lobbed the book into an open closet, along with what appeared to be a full-sized bicycle pump. ¡°Wow, why didn¡¯t I kick that one under the bed? She didn¡¯t have to see that,¡± she said, to herself but at normal volume. ¡°She didn¡¯t have to see any of that! Taipha, holy crap, don¡¯t come in when the door¡¯s closed! I know you maybe don¡¯t have people manners, but dang!¡± Aghast, I pointed at my mouth and throat. ¡°Meow meow!¡± I cried. I had announced myself, after all! Anyway, I didn¡¯t see why it mattered that I spotted her reading. Or maybe she¡¯d been researching¡­somehow? Bayce stood up and dusted herself off. There was no dust¡ªI knew by now that humans just did that sort of thing when they were nervous. She¡¯d changed out of her pajamas, but she still looked odd and haggard. Wait! No she didn¡¯t! In a literal blink, her face became as radiant as I was used to seeing it. For a few seconds she moved a stack of papers out of the chair¡ªthen she turned to me and saw the latest confusion on my human face. ¡°It¡¯s a makeup cantrip,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ve been using it all along! What, do you think I was born with permanent contours?¡± Shakily I held up the spirit board and pointed. This was a little bit faster than swatting with my paw, but it was missing that hit-the-button energy. ¡°I DIDNT THINK MANY ANYTHINGS,¡± I admitted. ¡°WHAT WERE U JUST DOING?¡± She gestured for me to sit in the chair, plopped herself back on the bed¡¯s edge. ¡°You know¡­ Wait, you seriously don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°UM¡­NO¡± She fist-pumped. ¡°Yesss,¡± she hissed. ¡°My reputation is safe.¡± The idea that someone as transparent as Bayce had a level of ¡°coolness¡± to maintain was as alien as anything else here. And that¡¯s exactly why I was excited to discuss magic with her! She was so forthcoming. Except for just now, but that was like the one exception ever. ¡°SO¡­¡± I had to gather my thoughts again. ¡°SPELLS! DO YOU HAVE INTELLIGENCE UP?¡± That was the most natural counter to the nonsense of the Debug Blade¡­assuming the sword wouldn¡¯t just punt the boosted Stat back to 0. ¡°Woah woah woah. Let¡¯s start from jump: what Spells do I have period?¡± She pulled out a familiar wooden box and popped the lid open. Some of the cubbies were nearly overflowing while others were almost depleted. This time I could read what they were!
? Fire Spell (low) ? Lightning Spell ? Ice Spell ? Earth Spell ? Water Spell (low) ? Nature Spell (low) ? Attack Up (low) ? Defense Up ? Minor Heal ? Attraction Spell ? High-Gravity Spell ? Low-Gravity Spell
Interesting¡­and yet, of course, it didn¡¯t include the one Spell I most wanted. Why, even? Wasn¡¯t Intelligence Up so clearly useful, especially for Spellcasters like Bayce? ¡°THANK U GOOD EXCEPT NO INT UP,¡± I said right before frowning very hard and using my free hand to mime tears falling from my face. My display actually made Bayce gasp a little. ¡°Poor baby,¡± she simpered, putting a hand on my shoulder. ¡°We can get you a widdle Intelligence Up if you really want it.¡± ¡°Mraowp?!¡± She switched off the baby talk (phew). ¡°Yes, but there are caveats. All of the Stat Up Spells are a little risky, but the ones that deal with the brain are¡­well, I don¡¯t mean to raise any alarm bells,¡± she said with a desperate laugh, ¡°but botched Spells have caused brain damage!¡± I made my very first unimpressed wince. Given how badly the Debug Blade had already made my brain feel, and how decidedly okay I had felt with repeated Guards and Meditates, I doubted this would be a bigger risk. Especially not from Bayce, whose magic hadn¡¯t steered me wrong to date. Bayce sighed. ¡°Okay, if you¡¯re sure¡­you daredevil, you.¡± She clapped once. ¡°I will do my darnedest to make you the greatest intelligence boosters ever!¡± The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Yay! Even if they didn¡¯t work with the Blade the way I¡¯d want them to, they would at least make me smarter, right? ¡­Right?? For now, I gave hew a mewl of appreciation and changed forms again, the better to conserve SP with. (I hadn¡¯t not been having fun being in nekomata form with her, though¡­) First we had all those elements Reed and Chora had been mentioning earlier. Bayce explained that for the most part, they worked the way I expected them to: by launching a glob of whatever element they had in the Spell name. Earth launched a rock and not, mercifully, dirt clouds. Ice had the bonus of being able to launch a bolt of superchilled air that would freeze on contact rather than just throw a big icicle, if the user desired. The Nature Spell actually caused vines to sprout on the target and begin constricting their own host. ¡°It¡¯s a little dark, I won¡¯t lie. That¡¯s why we don¡¯t have too many.¡± Bayce paused thoughtfully. ¡°Nah, it¡¯s really because the spike seeds in the recipe are so hard to find. If not for that, these would be the choice for self-defense in my book. It edges out High-Gravity, if only for the spectacle.¡± Ah, the big ones: Attraction, High-Gravity, and Low-Gravity. These almost didn¡¯t feel like they belonged in the same box, let alone universe! I could kinda guess what these three Spells did, but I wasn¡¯t yet grasping how they could work in battle. I pointed to the Attracts. ¡°U USED THIS WHEN WE MET,¡± I said with gusto, ¡°TO SUFFOCATE ME!¡± Her eyes went wide. ¡°I¡¯m so flattered you remember that!¡± she cried. Uh¡­of course I did, it had to have been less than a month ago! ¡°And you could too breathe. There is cleavage even in the darkest night.¡± Suddenly she slapped herself. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s not talk about that. It¡¯s too awkward¡­surprisingly.¡± That transition gave me whiplash, but if she was going to drill into the Spells more, I would not argue! ¡°Yeah, Low-Grav makes someone or something lighter. High-Grav makes them heavier. Make yourself lighter, jump higher, move faster for about, say, a minute. A Spellcaster using Low-Grav more aggressively¡ªespecially someone as athletic as you¡ªcan spring it like a trap to make people get the frick outta their face. It¡¯s tricky to pull off, but fun! (Admittedly I¡¯ve ticked off many, many frogs in mid-jump this way.) ¡°High-Grav is more intuitive. Make someone or something very heavy. Make yourself immovable or make them plummet and stay there. This is the most hilarious way to cannonball but also the most hilarious way to send yourself to the infirmary. I think it multiplies your weight by ten! That almost sounds too heavy to be true¡ªlike, would I seriously be three-quarters of a ton on this?!¡ªbut there it is, Taipha. ¡°Then there¡¯s Attract,¡± she said, and I could see by the devious look on her face that this one was her favorite. ¡°It pulls stuff closer together. It¡¯s so much fun. I mean, I feel guilty for using Attract on you back there, but¡­should I? Should I really?¡± ¡°YES,¡± I said instantaneously. ¡°AND YET ALSO ITS FUNNY¡­OR¡­NOW IT IS. IT SUCKED AT THE TIME!¡± Somehow that made her cackle harder. ¡°Okay, no more, then! I¡¯m just lucky you didn¡¯t claw me up like the ottoman!¡± She wiped a tear away and calmed down. ¡°Anywho, it¡¯s important to note that Attract pulls stuff closer to you. You throw it at someone else and you¡¯re gonna go whizzing through the air at them, unless you really anchor those feet to the ground.¡± She tapped one of her high-heeled boots on the floor two hard times. ¡°It also doesn¡¯t last a minute¡ªtypically only goes until the objects reach each other. There¡¯s some kind of weight limit, but honestly I forget exactly what, because I don¡¯t go around Attracting twelve-ton boxes to my person. ¡°Oh, and speaking of inordinately heavy things, watch out for the speed of this thing. It is the fricking tape measure of Spells, and you will stub more than your toe.¡± Now she was holding a grayish cluster of Attraction magic between her fingers, looking just as serious as if I were watching a PSA. ¡°Do not try to show off with this thing unless you know exactly what you¡¯re doing. Don¡¯t think you¡¯re ¡®teleporting¡¯ your way onto the side of a pole and instead find that pole flying out of the earth and clotheslining you.¡± She stifled a laugh, but just barely. ¡°Or, fine, maybe if you do that, call me first. Any questions?¡± This was a lot, but it was making sense. Plus, the idea factory that was the back of my mind was hard at work coming up with ways to fight with all this. Most would fail¡ªbut that¡¯s what experimentation is for! Try, try, fall to 5% Health and try again, baby!! But I did have to ask, ¡°HOW MANY CAN I BRING TODAY? IM GOING OUT FOR A DAY OR MORE¡± ¡°Oh, bring anything and everything. I¡¯m making more of what I can today, and then Chora should be bringing a few more ingredients from the village. You¡¯re the one in mortal danger, by all appearances.¡± ¡°U OK? U FEEL THE PLAGUE STILL?¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine. The magic stuff, whatever it was, it¡¯s been coming off. Not a great sign that it¡¯s here in the forest at all. Not a great sign that I can¡¯t identify it.¡± She squinted. ¡°Not even sure it¡¯s a substance, per se.¡± ¡°¡­THX 4 ALL THIS SO FAR.¡± She nodded her head with a hint of a smile. Then something gloomy seemed to pass over her face. ¡°Um, what I said earlier about you leaving¡­you know what I meant, right? I didn¡¯t mean I hate you. I actually love you! As like a friend. Flirt-friend. It¡¯s a new term.¡± ¡°U R NERVOUS¡± was all I said. I figured I could use my deadpan cat face to my advantage. Bayce jumped just like I thought she would¡­touchdown. ¡°What makes you think I¡¯m nervous?!¡± She replied to herself, voice rising. ¡°Oh, I dunno, just everything?! Goodness, Taipha. Why are you this cute, and, like¡­innocent?¡± This went from hilarious to not the turn I had been expecting. And it got weirder from there. ¡°I just¡ªhate you. No I don¡¯t mean that,¡± she snapped. ¡°Sorry, I was reaching for the opposite of ¡®love¡¯ and that was seriously the word I pulled out. Just¡ªsorry. I know you¡¯re taken.¡± I blinked. She blinked. ¡°SARCASM?¡± ¡°Sssuuuuure,¡± she said. ¡°Yyyeeeeeah.¡± She hit herself again, and I wished she¡¯d stop doing that. It seemed to be making her face redder. Or was that just nervousne¡ªokay, it had to be the nervousness. Maybe this was a good time to change the subject! Humans did appreciate a good distraction¡­I mean segue. ¡°OK SO IVE NEVER BEEN CLEAR ON THIS. WHATS AN ANATOMAGUS?¡± Her eyes brightened. ¡°Oh, that! Wait, you really didn¡¯t know? ¡­Wait, yeah duh you didn¡¯t know. You¡¯re not even from here. An anatomagus does body modification magic. I do body mod cantrips.¡± ¡°UM¡­LIKE PIERCINGS?¡± ¡°Yeah! Like piercings.¡± ¡°OH I GET IT. WHY GO TO BIG LONG COLLEGE FOR THAT?¡± ¡°Because the piercings make people change heights and grow limbs and stuff.¡± ¡°OH I GET IT. FOR REAL¡± ¡°Glad we cleared that up.¡± Bayce looked away for a long moment. Just as I wondered whether I¡¯d overstayed my welcome, she said, ¡°Look¡­I¡¯ve been wondering about that Queen you¡¯ve been fighting, and I think that¡ªthat maybe she¡¯s not evil? Maybe it¡¯s not even that she has Zero-Wisdom Brain. What if she¡¯s just weird and she¡¯s not human? Kinda like you? Oh, shoot. I could have phrased that better.¡± ¡°Mreaow,¡± I said, hoping my tone was encouraging. I wasn¡¯t sure what she was getting at, but I¡¯d much rather she say it than not. By now I trusted that nobody in the cabin would willfully hurt or even insult me. ¡°Well, to break it down, she gave you a book, but it¡¯s useless. Then she told you words, and they were useless. Seems to me like she¡¯s trying to tell you something, only she¡¯s super bad at it so everything she does is useless.¡± But then¡­why fight me about it? I narrowed my eyes, and she saw the doubt. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s just a theory,¡± she said. Then her feet began to get antsy. ¡°ILL REMEMBER THAT,¡± I said, and I meant it. After that, I chose my Spells, thanked Bayce for putting herself through all that trouble and stress today, and headed out. But not before Bayce gave me something for the road. As I turned to stroll out, a little bit of balled-up paper bopped the back of my head. I opened it: ingredients for a cantrip. Sure, add another million things to the list of to-dos¡ªbut just like the first time, I was jazzed to hunt down everything on this list. ¡°Go east, missy,¡± she said. 95. The Dark Arts are Fluorescent
Hand-Eye Coordination Cantrip Ingredients:
1 dragon¡¯s claw (at least 85% of it)
5kg vines of vernal flytrap (powdered)
3g owl eggshell shards
!!!dEaReSt TaIpHa!!!
I know talking is slow for you right now but who knows how slow the queen with the sword is? Maybe doing this cantrip before a speech one will boost your sword strats! Also way easier because this is only 1/3 of the total ingredients and I have the rest on hand. Forest: lousy with owls Northeast part of forest: think it¡¯s lousy with flytraps Regular-east: the third place you have to go
Quest: Collect Ingredients for the Coordination Cantrip
Progress: 0% (0/3)
Bayce was right¡­it did feel slightly sad to be missing out on a speech cantrip. But that was only temporary. For now, we¡ªor, more properly, I¡ªhad a mission. From a low hill, I overlooked the Rabbitfoot Plains. The grass was calm and cloudy, stark contrast to the determination in my little racing heart. Using my new Calico Ranger powers, I copied Bayce¡¯s notes into a new document so I could always keep it in my mind¡¯s eye. On second thought, yeah, I really did need this cantrip. Well, I did manage to make passable notes on my second try. It took single-minded focus and an emphasis on making the letters as large as possible, but it could be managed! Something bothered me about this list, though. Yeah, there was the simply massive quantity of vines I¡¯d need to collect from a creature I hadn¡¯t even seen before, but also, namely¡­the lack of a name. For the dragon. What the heck kind of dragon was I after here? It couldn¡¯t be the Drunken Dragon, right? With the Drunken Dragon¡¯s Blade? Well, I bet it wasn¡¯t, but even so, I was going after that mythical alcoholic bubble tree anyway!
Current Location: Rabbitfoot Plains (S.D3)
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 37% (11/30)
I was curving northeast. Not into the trees (which Bayce claimed were rife with flytraps), but into the flowers. And as I drew nearer, my nose rebelled, beginning to sniffle with the all-filling aroma of so many competing flowers.
Current Location: Stinger Field (S.D2)
Wait, I hadn¡¯t totally explored this area yet? Hm¡­better late than never, obviously. Along the way, I stopped briefly for a few simple kills, doing quick early tests of a few simple Spells. In my Inventory, I¡¯d packed just about everything I could fit. No way was I leaving Bayce, Reed and Chora completely without, but some of these had been overflowing in the box, after all.
Inventory: 10/10
Chora¡¯s Crystal Debug Blade Minor Heal x8 Book of Sister¡¯s Shadow Burlap Sack A mildly convenient way to skirt any Inventory restrictions. Lightning Spell x5 Ice Spell x5 Earth Spell x5 Water Spell x2 Attraction Spell x5
ZAP! The Spell I¡¯d been most excited to try bounded forth and sizzled into the faces of a trio of wasps who¡¯d gotten a little too close to my face. Electricity burned into carapaces¡ªand had spread to some of the surrounding flowers in this thicket, adding an unwelcome burnt-ness to the overwhelming smells. The wasps plummeted. I slipped backward. Then, no doubt after a few seconds of limb-writhing, the good news came in.
Victory!
EXP: 99% (3114/3150)
R-really?! What a buzzkill. Or three, to be exact. (Well, they didn¡¯t seem one-hundred-percent dead. Passing them by confirmed a slight buzz of life in the air.) Yeah, the Lightning Spell was as straightforward as it sounded, in as literal a sense as my use of the term ¡°buzzkill¡± just now. And of course, it streaked at light speed, which felt like an absurd degree of power to have. The main downside was that despite that advantage and despite it defeating some insects I¡¯d taken by surprise, it didn¡¯t really seem as strong as a Fire Spell. I lobbed it at the side of a generic bubble tree from a solid fifty meters off. It burned a bit of a hole, but the fire it started in the bark died quick. The bolt also uttered a mighty thunder-CRACK that honestly I could¡¯ve done without. Okay, it could strike a primal fear in the hearts of all who heard it, but¡­it just wasn¡¯t my style to attract that kind of attention. In fact, as I came closer to assess the damage, I was hearing not only a rising wasp-hum, but a suspicious hissing behind me. Um, note taken. Spells prepared. Something snatched my ankle¡ªor tried to. I jumped away, botching the landing but at least making my getaway. Rolling, I banged against a rock, but only enough, at this stage in my Defense- and HP-upping life, to faze me. Too bad that rock rattled another snatching-something that reared up and revealed their fangs.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Ah, so I wasn¡¯t just fighting more wasps. I had snakes too! And I wasn¡¯t scared in the slightest!! I was in the clear, as long as they didn¡¯t have anything like a debilitating poison that even a Level Up couldn¡¯t cure. And maybe just thinking that cursed fate, but so what? Sierra sure wasn¡¯t returning my calls! Two snakes, both black with rings of green, had me backed against the trunk of the bubble tree. Or so they thought¡­so I let them think. I picked one as my target and tried another Spell, the next one on my list. Ice brought down the hammer. A frozen bolt, just like a blue arctic fireball, engulfed the rearing snake. What I¡¯d expected to make some kind of symphony of whooshes instead was a vacuum, a stilling of noise. And as it tried to still the beast, the snake only writhed all the harder. In a single second, the Ice bolt had done most of its work: frozen blocks had grown all along the snake¡¯s S-shaped body like crystal growths, leaving the animal motionless. Well, nearly¡ªtheir head, still uncovered, never stopped hissing and was producing a definite jiggle. But again, this happened in like a second. I wasn¡¯t just staring at Snake #1, I was double-teaming and launching a second Ice at Snake #2. And for this target, I used the other method of casting Ice, remembering how Bayce had mentioned two. Just like she¡¯d told me, casting it either way was as simple as changing my intention. In my case, that was making a mental image of frozen air versus one of a big chunk. And indeed, the chunk was slightly more boring, but hey, it had that caveman edge, and sometimes my fighting style was pretty close to ¡°caveman.¡± A half-meter bludgeon in the shape of a teardrop rocketed at high speed toward Snake #2, smacking them to the ground. The ice kept flying afterward. The snake, though, stayed on the ground. And immediately afterward started moving again. Clearly that wasn¡¯t the best use of the Ice Spell, then. Not only that, but I had not one-shotted the first snake. Nor had they admitted defeat! That ice was cracking before my eyes, and the rings running down their scales were beginning to glow. Time to use what had to be the better version of Bludgeon Ice: the Earth Spell. A sucking THWOOM sound filled the air as a hunk of earth, twice as large as the ice gob, appeared where once there¡¯d been nothing. It hurtled at Snake #1 in an arc, flattening them. Great! I felt like flying in an arc was the way to go for a move like this. Bad Ice. From that snake, I heard the kind of defeat-squeal I expected to hear from squirrels. What kind of a twisted world was this where my first run-in with a squirrel was utter defeat, but I could wipe the floor with these ambushing snakes?! And yet I hadn¡¯t gotten a Victory notification out of either of them. Stubborn! The non-flattened snake was now coming after me, fangs bared and glowing hot green. Already I could hear the one underneath the rock heaving, striving to escape. But have no fear! There was another gambit up my sleeve. Despite Water being the next thing on my list, I wasn¡¯t actually ready to test it yet. There were only two of those in my Inventory, after all. And I¡¯d tried casting Spells directly from the burlap sack earlier¡­didn¡¯t work. So the ¡°last¡± thing I had to test in the heat of the moment was Attraction! Let¡¯s see if I can do something tricky with this. The snake sped into a charge, fangs aimed directly at my face. They sped up¡ªto their surprise. The Attraction had just gone off in a puff of salt and poledust, two Spell ingredients that, for once, I recognized. And right before the snake hit me, I dodged. Leaving one snake facing the other, rather than both facing my vitals, and helpless to avoid biting into each other! ¡­Is what should have happened, but instead, the snake I¡¯d targeted with the Spell curved with me in an unnatural arc. Oh yeah, okay¡ªso it didn¡¯t attract something toward itself or toward a point in space, or toward the caster for just a moment. Bayce told me that¡­I was just hoping I could cheat fate. The fangs hit me dead-on.
HP 88% (525/598)
At least the one who¡¯d come from behind was lost and confused. For like a millisecond. That one came after me too, and latched onto my back ankle.
HP 76% (454/598)
Aw, this was just irritating! Well, this is why we practice, Taipha, I said to myself as the sting of the teeth made me buckle. It did give me more confidence to remember that that was all this was: practice. I was too strong to let this get me down! Oogh, that current of weakness going through me had to have been more than nausea. These snakes were poisoning me, and I didn¡¯t need to check my Stats to know that. But with them so weakened by the Spells I¡¯d lobbed at them, and me so close to a Level Up, I didn¡¯t mind burning a little SP at all. A Slash burned through my claws, and the red tint in the air was highly welcome. Two whip-fast and razor-sharp moves was all it took to tear through each snake and make their mouth-grips go slack. Phew! Feeling the weakness dissipate, shaking off the last of the pain, was its own reward. I was strong enough now¡ªI had more than enough options¡ªto weather harsher storms than this.
Level Up!
Lv. 21 ¡ú Lv. 22
EXP: 25% (809/3300)
HP 100% (625/625)
SP 100% (600/600)
ATK 117
INT 69 (+2!)
DEF 81
WIS 76 (+1!)
SPD 96 (+1!)
I didn¡¯t exactly keep rigorous track of all my Stat gains, but¡­did I just gain 30 points of HP and SP in a single go? Thirty points? Yep. Getting four bonus Stat points per Level felt¡­kinda broken. But then when I considered the Sapphire Queen again, suddenly nothing felt broken. That¡¯s okay, I reassured myself. It¡¯ll get broken! And meanwhile, after gnawing on the tail of what my Meat Locker called a fluorocoil (described as ¡°stringy¡±¡ªthat wasn¡¯t the half of it), I ventured off to try and find that alcoholic tree. At first I thought, naively, that I might find it by scenting the air for that distinctive wineyness. Nothing there but more flowers. I guessed that if the tree really was mystical, maybe the scent would just spring upon me. That was what¡¯d happened the first time, after all. Maybe unveiling the Debug Blade would help someway. If it was connected to the tree, then could it act like a homing device? Well, I unveiled it and touched it¡­put my paws on the blade, put the blade in my mouth¡­and again, nothing. If holding the blade was the key, I was absolutely unwilling to try that right now. Not while I was alone. So I changed tack and used my Map to conduct a very orderly search of the place. There was a chance that by combing every square meter, I could narrow it all down. I snaked gradually from south to north, speeding east to west and back again when I hit the borders of the Map square. While I ran into (and raced and kicked around) a few rabbits and dragonflies in my path, the work was repetitive and not very rewarding. I mean, sure, the beauty of the world was splendiferous, but I couldn¡¯t really concentrate on that when I had potentially a galactic secret to unveil. But the search came to an end. Plains transitioned to forest and floral scents dissolved to pine as I hit the northeast corner. I looked back, almost disbelieving that I had seriously found no trace of that one bubble tree and its heady wine. I had to content myself with the idea that my own grit and the sword itself were all I¡¯d need to get the upper hand on a character about seven thousand Levels above me. Well¡­there was a very slim chance that I could still track it down. I spotted a distant rabbit going about their business, and as they ducked behind a hill¡­ If a rabbit could find a blade the first time, maybe a rabbit could find it again. How would I know whether or not it found it? Um¡­I wouldn¡¯t. So I decided against giving the animal a tracking marker. Maybe I just had to stop worrying about it and embrace the journey. With that, I headed into uncharted lands. 96. Think of the Children As I sat in the higher boughs of a tree and took a mental break, I pulled out the Book of Sister¡¯s Shadow, kind of just to browse. I know how weird it sounds to be pulling out a book of ambiguous destiny ¡°just to browse,¡± but my mind wanted something familiar to chew over, and rereading old passages provided that kind of exercise. Like the emery board of the brain? I was surprised to see a new entry on a once-blank page. This diary didn¡¯t seem to ¡°release¡± its entries on the same timetable as they¡¯d been created. Going forward, I decided I¡¯d pull it out whenever I had some quiet time and a bit of rest. I could use all the hints I could get, and yanking on the Sierra Hotline only to get the blandest possible ¡°Sierra is unavailable¡± message was getting old. So I immersed myself in what I had¡­or tried to immerse myself. It was still tough to know what to make of it. And¡­apparently the author felt the same? Maybe to follow the command of my Maker, I need to find the other animals like me. Nobody else in this wood seems able to shift forms. I have seen krigries exit cocoons, and I feel certain that there are caterpillars and butterflies. None can shift willfully to a butterfly and back. But at least I can look like the humans. That is a start. Maybe the humans have some power they aren¡¯t sharing and maybe I need to wise up and quit shifting. Today I stayed like I was and toured the wood. Far east, I found a place reminiscent of Earth: what I always thought were human nests or the parts of a human mass migration spot. My Maker has left a note for me saying that this was a place for ¡°vacations.¡± Semantics. It¡¯s migration for the purpose of having fun and losing money. I see there is a vacationer here, but I don¡¯t know how best to make contact. The krigries are no help and their buzzing instantly scares them off. I see the human stopping and writing. I have this book. Maybe there¡¯s something there. If Sapphire here was thinking that sharing this book with the human would get them to understand one another, then I had bad news for her. Rrrgh! If she¡¯d just give up the ghost and say what ¡°her Maker¡± told her to do, I¡¯d feel less like I was running in circles with this! There was a chance that she was misunderstood, or a murderer. Not much to do but put the book away for now, just like the blade¡ª Ah, but she wrote something else¡­ On the back of this page was a map, which seemed to have been drawn with a light, deft hand. One that could make pretty precise squares and circles, unlike me. Then again, was anything in this book ¡°written¡±? If the text was generated before my eyes, and looked just as uniform as printed text, then¡­probably not. The whole thing was confusing. Either way¡­exactly where in Vencia the stuff on this minimap was, I didn¡¯t know, but maybe when I got there, this would help me. Thanks? This was halfway helpful. Whatever this ¡°vacation spot¡± was, the Queen¡¯s map only showed its contents as squares and circles. Arrows marked, in order from least-useful-to-Taipha to most-useful-to-Taipha, where the human vacationer was spotted, the square containing a ¡°powerful stone,¡± and a couple of shapes where ¡°lots of quadrupedal mammals¡± like to hang out. Alright, maybe the Queen was a trooper. Lots of quadrupedal mammals meant lots of opportunities to beat animals up. I could use this info to make a few icons on the far-left side of my Map, and could transpose them once I knew precisely where this was. A bit of fussing around with Map commands and¡­ Perfect! Ish. Having the minimap bob around in space didn¡¯t look right at all, but whatever, that¡¯d just make me go faster in my rush to make it righter! On that note, I put the Book back in my Inventory and jumped down to earth. Wind whistled through the trees of a thickening forest, joining the birdsong. I trudged through the grass, which was lower and spottier now that the floral field had ended.
Current Location: ??? (S.E2)
I was making a little progress, but nothing amazing ye¡ª
Treasure Detected!
Check your Map (again) for the location!
Oh? I stopped my walk. Didn¡¯t want to bump into a monster or a rock or anything like that just because I was walking with a mental piece of paper hanging in front of my face. The snarkiness of that System prompt was¡­something. I suspected Sierra had something to do with it? Huh???
Error: Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata is unavailable. Please leave a message.
I must¡¯ve left ten messages on this thing by now, ranging from ¡°uh, hi¡± to momentary rage. But I had nothing new to say, so it didn¡¯t really seem worth it to leave another ¡°why why why?!?!¡± But my hypothesis could still stand! Sierra could be masterminding the System while she kept her phone in the other room¡ªmetaphorically! Or maybe literally. Nobody knew how this worked! Well, the broader point of this was, I had a new Treasure? In the tumult of all that¡¯d been happening, I almost forgot I could get those. Just as I was about to open it, some strange commotion caught my attention. Ahead of me, a squirrel went flying. A non-flying squirrel. They catapulted across my vision and went running in abject fear. I turned and saw what I guessed was the source of the fear: a hole in a tree.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Ordinarily, that hole would be dark enough that a human¡ªor squirrel, I bet¡ªpeeking inside at daytime from a few meters off would see nothing. I could see more. There were the glints of eyes in that hollow, and several of them. My ears picked up a low burble. Okay, I was sixty-five percent sure that was exactly the hollow I was looking for: an owl¡¯s nest. But how could I get the eggshells out without disturbing any other part of the scene? I slinked back into the bushes and gave it some thought. Well, to start with, I didn¡¯t know for sure if they were owls. If I had the wrong birds, any planning would be moot. Trying to scare them out would probably be pointless¡ªthey could very well be too young to fly. Yeah, I could stick my head in, but that might be rude. I¡¯d been rude to tons of animals before, but come on, these were babies! Plus, what if I stuck my head in and still didn¡¯t get a clear view? If they were pecking and shouting everywhere, I¡¯d just see a haze of feathers, and getting their eggshells would be extremely tough. Wait¡­I had a technique for hiding myself. Couldn¡¯t I use Cloak? Um, that only made me undetectable to one creature at a time. Ugh, and it would¡¯ve been perfect! I was certain I¡¯d seen five or six glinting eyes in that hollow. Well, I hadn¡¯t exhausted my options yet. What¡¯d I have? Air Cutter? No¡­ Meat? Uh, the delicious smell of a hell marmot or a gackern could lure them out¡­and make them fall to their doom. I did have a few Spells that could be useful. Aside from Lightning, Ice, Earth, Water, and Attraction, I had the contents of the burlap sack. I just didn¡¯t have an easy way of accessing them! Easy enough to remember, though. I had two Nature Spells, five High Gravities, five Low Gravities¡­oh, and I had the spirit board just in case I found any humans out here, plus a little camera I had scavenged from Bayce¡¯s room. Yeah, uh¡­don¡¯t tell her about that. Look, it was just lying on the floor, and it had a dent in its side. I didn¡¯t think it was the same one she¡¯d used to take pictures of frogs that one time, so she¡¯d have more, right? And besides, she clearly wasn¡¯t taking care of it! Come to think of it, someone¡ªor someones¡ªmight appreciate a photo of a few baby birds. No, I didn¡¯t know of any particular bird appreciators (except Donovan?), but no matter. It was still conducive to the plan now cooking in my head. Okay, so for this to work, first I had to face the nest. In humanoid form, I could stand and face it, maybe use a boulder, but the hole was a little high for that¡ªI could get a picture if I stood extraordinarily close and held the camera high above my head, but that¡¯d only get about half of the hollow. Not being confident in my hands-and-sandals climbing techniques, I stayed in cat form. Quickly scanning the area, I found a good tree to position myself on, one standing less than a meter away from the hollow. Its trunk wasn¡¯t right in front of the suspected owl tree, but the position was workable. Swatting the air a couple times to remind myself that my claws were safe and secure, I then hooked them in and got to climbing. Soon I had my back roughly facing the hollow¡­ ¡­with a camera strapped around my neck. Just earlier I had tossed the sack from my Inventory, rummaged through, pulled out the camera, and slotted it back in. A bit tedious, but at least I hadn¡¯t done it directly in any annoyingly loud bushes. Now I was moving the camera into my mouth, very slowly, by pulling the strap along my neck with my teeth. Times like these made me recall the time I wondered if Morph would do stuff like give my cat form human hands. While I still hated that idea and it made my flesh want to vomit, right now it sounded downright practical. Give me three paws and one hand already, Sierra! Eventually (and a little painfully), I worked my jaws around the camera. Only then did I remember the existence of shutters. Welp, I thought, hope Bayce was lazy enough to leave off the shutter. And I had to trust that one of my teeth was squarely on top of the clicky button. Then I turned around. Not one-eighty owl-style, but y¡¯know, as much as I could. It absolutely hurt, but it wouldn¡¯t be like this for long. I peeped into the hole¡¯s darkness just long enough to know that all those sets of eyes were locked on me, and all those gullets were burbling. Now was the time. No way this Vencian box of a camera had flash, but I had come prepared. With a burst of aether and asphodel, a Lightning Spell blared through the forest, passing the tree but lighting it brilliantly! At the same time, I bit down with great gusto. K-THOOOOOM. Click! The burbles escalated and shifted into harsh peeps, and the little black eyes flew every which way in their hollow. As I dropped off the tree, I heard their wings fluttering against each other. Man were they scared. I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m sorry, I thought as I set the camera down, waited for the insta-photo to develop, and then studied the result. I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m still sorry! I thought as I raced up the owls¡¯ tree, anchored my hind legs to the bark, and swatted like the dickens. Dirt, leavings, and maybe a couple of eggshell pieces were hurled out into the air and into my face. The owlets kept peeping. Smarting from the minor scratch damage, I jumped off the tree and flailed back to earth. Just in time for the little birds to start glowing with Skills! I was still sorry. Ooh, okay, there were more eggshell-looking things scattered across the ground than I¡¯d thought. After I got myself back in cover, just for fun¡¯s sake, I shuffled my Inventory and Burlap Sack around so I could read some descriptions.
Color Cookie Camera
This wildly popular brand of tiny, convenient consumer cameras took the world of Vencia by storm in the early 6700s. The color model is the only upgrade the timeless device has received in a century. (Flash sold separately.)
Bibble Owl Photo
A charming family photo of three owlets just days away from leaving the nest. They seem terrified.
Bibble Owl Eggshell x6
The egg of this majestic and musical owl is off-white and lightly spotted, as if dusted with powdered sugar.
Considering what¡¯s in a nest and how much it smells, ¡°powdered sugar¡± wasn¡¯t the simile I would¡¯ve come up with, but sure!
Victory!
That¡¯s right, babies, fear your elders! EXP: 33% (1099/3300)
EXP: 33% (1099/3300)
Did I only get like 100 EXP from that? Probably. I guessed it really didn¡¯t pay to scare children. Well, that was alright. It went to a good cause: my hands. I shuffled everything back into its rightful place, with one exception: I swapped Chora¡¯s Crystal with the High Gravity Spell. Sorry, Chora, but it was about time this happened, sentimental and theoretically-emergency useful though the crystal might be. Everything would need a test drive soon, but High Gravity was coming out now because it seemed pretty easy and obvious to use. Getting Treasure could take some pretty tricky maneuvers, and I wanted things that were both tricky and not impossible to wrap my head around. Plus, the vines of the Nature Spell sounded kinda dull to me. Unless they actively snared enemies by the ankles or something, that was last on my list of cool things to try. For now, I checked the Map. What kind of Treasure were we talking here?
Current Location: Bibbly Bark (S.E2)
Okay, it wasn¡¯t actually in my path if I wanted to keep on going east, but that was kind of a good thing. It encouraged me to search around more! I wasn¡¯t just gonna leave this square half-searched! I power-walked on, humming with contentment somewhere deep in my brain. Now to explore, and fight. 97. Slop Glops
Current Location: Bibbly Bark (S.E2)
As I hunted around this Map square on my way to the one further down, I began to realize something: there was no chance any of the dragons or flytraps needed for the hand-eye coordination cantrip would be living out here. I mean, it was a tranquil wood par excellence! With some exceptions. Between broken bark and sickeningly adorable button mushrooms, I noticed a higher volume of snakes, their scales glowing in the slightest shade. And now and then, I swore I¡¯d seen a glow floating in the middle of nowhere¡ªonly for it to disappear. The first two times that happened, I chased after the light and smacked into a rock. The third time, though, I really fought to restrain myself. Pulling on every point of Wisdom I¡¯d ever mustered, I kept myself in place as that momentary reddish flash swooped across the leaves. And with every point of Intelligence, I asked myself two questions: What is that light? And why is it so¡­tantalizing? But even with my vast storehouse of random human information, I couldn¡¯t for the life of me pin down why I had such an urge to go running after these random, fleeting, incredibly fast points of red light. It couldn¡¯t be that I just liked to chase after fast shiny things, right? I wasn¡¯t that low. It was probably magic. Yeah! That made sense. Just like the Attraction Spell, only, uh, totally different. I¡¯d go with that. (For the record, restraining myself with all my Wisdom only worked for about half a second before I went running, dodged around a birch, and stopped just short of a crash. Don¡¯t underestimate me. No, I didn¡¯t catch the light.) Well, as I made my way north and then south on my mission to thoroughly cover as much ground as I could, I had some run-ins with fellow animals and took every competition in a playful spirit. I thought a blue jay was giving me a contemptuous glare, but maybe they just wanted to race¡ªthey certainly joined in when I took off. Once my toes almost butted up against a black-and-yellow snake, and while they didn¡¯t strike me as too harmful as they uncoiled and hissed, I slowed myself down¡­and began mimicking their movements. This successfully intimidated them and actually counted as a Victory! My reputation around these woods was getting solider and solider.
EXP: 61% (1999/3300)
I was beginning to crave a challenge (and really fast red lights didn¡¯t count), but I had a feeling that something called a dragon would certainly give me one. As I hit the border, a notification went off, right on schedule.
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 43% (13/30)
Yay! As sometimes happened with these squares, the terrain changed almost immediately. Trees were less frequent than grass. Grass was less frequent than rocks. All of that was less frequent than¡­mud. It hadn¡¯t even rained recently. Had it? Or was this place just a vast series of magical mudbaths? That sounded way more romantic than it looked. Remember the place where Chora and I had that run, which I renamed the Savannah of Future Victory because I know full well I will beat her next time? With the beautiful silvery watering holes interspersed everywhere? Imagine the really sad and dirty version of that. Lumpy slop heaps. I didn¡¯t spot animals drinking out of them, obviously, but from a ways off, I did see what appeared to be a family of boars bathing. Good for them! But the sight of all this made my tongue shrivel. Sure, my concept of ¡°dirty¡± had been far different from a human¡¯s before I came to the Vencian Wood¡ªcats don¡¯t have germ theory, our tongues are the epitome of clean¡ªbut come on, I had dignity. I wouldn¡¯t wanna take a dip in that mud and come out smelling like all the billions of animals that¡¯d come before me. At least water dried off!This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Still, something told me I wouldn¡¯t be able to avoid these mud puddles for long. That ¡°something¡± was the glaring fact that half the earth was mud puddles. Map¡­zoomenhance zoomenhance zoomenhance¡ª Okay, that was a little better. Now I had a more realistic portable bird¡¯s-eye view of the northern part of the place. It still didn¡¯t look fully accurate¡ªthere were about a hundred infinitesimal mud ponds with ¡°land bridges¡± that were terrifyingly slim¡ªbut several of the larger ones were shown here. Not to mention the eerie lack of cover. That was accurate. And speaking of eerie, the fauna I was darting past were kind of¡­Halloweeny, is that the word for it? More snakes. Hairy spiders. On the surface of a brown pond, I actually found a scorpion. A scorpion. A huge and floppy scorpion. I would have smacked it on sight if I hadn¡¯t been wary about status conditions. Can¡¯t really sleep those off in a place with no cover like this. There was one essential thing I hadn¡¯t seen on the enhanced Map: the Treasure. It was pretty far south, too far to have shown up. I sighed internally. Alright, then¡­an eternity of mud for me. Half an hour later, I¡¯d crossed¡­not as much of the muddy expanse as I¡¯d expected to. Loamy soil with a few too many rocks for comfort (and spiders masquerading as rocks) made navigation even more challenging than I¡¯d anticipated. But I was southerly enough to get a clearer view. I¡¯d seen this coming, and I hated it with every fiber of my semicleanly being: the Treasure was on¡ªor more likely underneath¡ªa big mess of mud. But I reassured myself, stood firm. Come, now, Taipha, you¡¯ll just lick yourself afterward! That sparked a new fear in me: What if my mouth opens? And another, even more mortifying one: What if it gets in my ears¡­and my nose?! Part of me was not going in that disgusting excuse for water at all, but part of me was, oddly enough, fired up! Like Me wanted to prove Me wrong and was stoked to be audacious. The daring Me put a not-so-tentative paw on the mud. It¡¯s kind of¡­solid?! No more testing was needed. I dashed across, taking the shortest possible route to the site of the Treasure. One growing problem: actually, this mud was not solid. Every step sank far more than the first. In five racing bounds, I was chin-deep in nastiness. Other animals were amazed. Boars turned their heads. A couple of beasts who looked like the children of a duck and a woolly mammoth honked with what had to be laughter. I could only keep running. To be precise, I had to mix in my running with other, smarter stuff. There was Leaping at an angle¡ªthat helped, but it only got me so far, and it sent me soaring out of one mud pit and plunging onto another. I even landed next to more bathing duck-neanderthals. My reputation: destroyed. Instead of just scamper-swimming as fast as possible and doing my best to ignore the hardening chunks of glop now clinging to me like I was their mother¡ªand instead of using Cloak to at least salvage a bit of pride¡ªmy mind flew to my Spell arsenal. First of all, ugh¡­if only I¡¯d kept my Low Gravity Spell on easy access. That could¡¯ve gotten me across with half the time and energy. Second, I wished this had given me a good use case for the Water Spell, but somehow I doubted it would produce a tsunami big enough to wash out even the smallest of these mud holes. Third¡­hold on, I could make an Ice or Earth surfboard! But only if I made my back legs the rudder. Or fired off constant Air Cutters from the back. Never mind, that was a terrible idea. What I settled on was just as experimental and maybe just as bad. I fired an Ice Spell straight ahead! Mint and berry smells crackled away as the mud was frozen together into a bridge. Just like I¡¯d wanted, the ball of freezing energy had raced straight ahead for several meters. I mean, it wasn¡¯t that many meters, but it did get me to the shore. Halfway. Look, at least it gave me a break. I clawed on, slipped and slid my way to the end of the platform, and took a breather. Then I looked out at the distance left to cover. The pit with the Treasure wasn¡¯t that far. Maybe another minute of racing? And yet¡­I hated mud so much. I can¡¯t take this anymore, I said to myself, defeated. The mud hardening on me seemed supernaturally heavy, and had to have been doubling my weight. Oh, and also, my paw pads were really cold for some reason. I Leaped, shattering the edge of the ice like a superhero taking off with a sonic boom. From there I went galloping. First through the sky, like a Pegasus¡ªor a star with useless legs. Then along the surface of the great unsavory pond, across a bend, and across the next. They squelched lightly across the backs of maggots and beetles and the smoothed hides of rocks, skittering again on the churning surface so fast that I doubted my legs were adding much momentum at all to my careening body. Then I stopped myself precisely on the bank, and just moments after my paw pads had started to seep into the muck again. Finally, a case where keeping the Map right in front of my nose constantly was helpful! On mud flats like these, there weren¡¯t many big predators to see to begin with. Anything smaller and squirmier could be scrambled away from, and had been.
Current Location: Scorpy Mud Central (S.E3)
Plus, we got a name for this baby! The System¡¯s auto-naming algorithms had to be reading my mind here. Or nightmares. I¡¯d have to change this one when I actually got some ideas¡­soothing ones. But now for the Treasure. It was in the middle of a mud ocean, and up close, that ocean looked just how I¡¯d pictured it: mud! I wanted so badly to use a Water Spell to spritz myself clean before working out how best to dive in¡­but I would inevitably have to dive into this gaping maw, so that would fix nothing. Then I wanted so badly to spritz it apart with that water. Not happening either. Wait a second¡­ I transformed. The poof of mysterious transformation smog carried with it globs of muck and powder dust. The ¡°force¡± of me Morphing apparently flung the worst of the mud off of me! I mean, it wasn¡¯t perfect, but would anything be, short of a three-day bath? Immediately I changed back, began licking myself¡­and felt an ominous rumble from down below. From inside of the mudhole. Instincts wanted me to freeze up. Knowledge and experience told me to Guard instead¡ªand that I did. The shaking was followed up by a roar. No, a chorus of roars, and all tangled up in the sucking sounds of the now-reverberating mud ocean. The lushly hairy ducks on the edges honked and scattered, but I stood my ground. I was about to get my Treasure from¡ª (A very distinct and classic roar sounded.) ¡ªFrom a bunch of mud dragons! 98. Tooth and Scale A head rose out from the mud. One that could easily be mistaken for a crocodile¡¯s, if seen from about five acres away. It was paralyzingly large. It couldn¡¯t be compared with any Earthly thing still living¡ªwould even put a T-Rex to shame. It itself was the size of a single whale. And behind it was the loping, curving neck of a brachiosaurus. At first, I thought the shape was crocodilian too. But for one thing, this head was pointed above the eyes, giving the impression of slick, near-black devil horns. For another, the rising jaws tapered to a point, like a beak. When that head turned to the side¡ªto get a better look at me¡ªI had my real confirmation that this was no ordinary reptile. The eyes refracted a sea of colors: first flat black, then yellows and cyans, then silvery hot pink. All with a slight swivel of the head, a minute change in its angle with the afternoon sun. The colors changed so often they were hard to look at. This was none other than a mud dragon. Okay, it was none other than whatever Vencians called it. But if Clantisere Pond or whatever could be my ¡°Mirror Pond,¡± so could, like, the Dragons of Blagon. The dragon-or-dinosaur moved as easily in mud as any crocodile through water. The only difference was the sound of mud churning as opposed to flowing. And as more of the monster¡¯s neck and the beginnings of shoulders rose from the mire, I sensed it was a stride¡ªnot awkward or ungainly at all. Though the creature wasn''t lean, their movements were elegant, self-assured. In fact, I sensed pride in that gait. As if this dragon felt that I, their food, was meant especially for them. They were kind of right. Except I wasn¡¯t food, I was just a foe giving them a chance to come closer. And giving their fellows a chance to show themselves, after that prideful group-roar they¡¯d given just a minute before. No other heads were showing themselves, but I noticed unusual ripples on the mud, ripples that only other presences could cause. Maybe if I¡¯d looked more closely, I¡¯d¡¯ve seen tiny devil horns just barely breaking the surface. Instead, I saw my victory over my literal biggest foe yet. Let me be more specific, though¡ªbecause there¡¯s no way I thought I could take on more than one of these dragons, and even then, I knew I had to be crafty about it. I figured that with my current strength and clever use of a few of my Spells, I really could take down one¡­but more importantly, I could hope to speed my way under the surface to snag that Treasure. I felt up to the challenge just as much as I felt intimidated and put on the spot. The chief mud dragon finally brought their head close. First with that massive eye, and then, with a big of a turn, to snort directly on me. I hadn¡¯t moved a bit.
DEF 122 (+50%)
Guard was doing its part to encourage me to stay solidly still. More and more, though, the calm confidence came from myself. The mud dragon roared. High Gravity! Their lower jaw slammed to the earth with concussive force. If that didn¡¯t hurt their pride tremendously, I didn¡¯t know what would¡­but I was about to! Though tempted to use Cloak, I didn¡¯t want to end up wasting a one-minute one-target disguise in case the High Gravity had straight-up incapacitated this dragon. Instead, I just went running. But I made sure to jump onto the snout and run down the great dragon¡¯s neck, just like a modern Stone Age family would. I was followed by a pained, perturbed grunt. The sharp ridges down that neck were like the worst, least useful stairs imaginable. After they pricked my paws a few times, I made sure to keep them safely between them¡ª And noticed a whole flurry of draconic heads rising up, dripping mud, gritting teeth. Luckily for them, I wasn¡¯t interested in beating them up! (Yet.) First I had to hold my breath and force my eyes to stay open!! Wait, this isn¡¯t water! It¡¯s semisolid opaque mud, Taipha! How am I gonna see anything¡­or smell anything?! THUNK. Diving into mud¡­it truly has none of the advantages, slight as they are, of diving into water. Admittedly, it was cool down there. But it¡¯s also cool in the refrigerator, and I don¡¯t hang out in there. Map! I thought as my wide-open eyes were muddified. Zoom! Enhance! MMMAAAAAP!! This¡­this actually surpassed expectations! If I¡¯d been a submarine underwater, my sonar probably would¡¯ve shown about the same thing: sonar-style maps of pits, summits, and ridges. Unlike the charts I¡¯d gotten back in the Kaugs, these didn¡¯t look at all like the fake, cheesy, lazily-penciled-in-by-Sierra mountain peaks I¡¯d come to expect. In other words, you could actually navigate with this! Assuming you could survive for long periods under mud! Well, I got one final takeaway from this dip: the Treasure was inside of one of the deeper pits. Also, considering how tall the mud dragons seemed to be, and how they¡¯d clearly been striding along the bottom of this mud ocean¡­I was clearly coming up on the fun part. A sudden jolt sent me rocketing back to the surface, to which my immediate response was oh thank goodness. It was the dragon¡¯s neck whipping me up for air and generalized salvation! Afterward, I crashed down on that same neck again, though. Ouch, my cheek scraped a scale ridge.
HP 92% (578/625)
SP 83% (499/600)
All my Defense and stuff was doing a lot to keep me safe here! The jaws of another dragon¡ªone whose head wasn¡¯t bolted to the ground¡ªcame diving right for me. I jumped out of the way, landing on the mud.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Wait¡­gravity, jumping on mud¡­ Map? And remember to put me on it this time? I thought, bringing it up as quickly as the thought occurred to me so I¡¯d presumably have time to avoid what were now three mouths coming at me soon. Okay so I wasn¡¯t quite above the Treasure go away Map now! Dashing on mud was hard. I exploded an Earth Spell chunk into existence instead, and after a brief sniff of turmeric and clay filled the air (according to the item description¡ªI wasn¡¯t smelling anything but wet dirt for days), the chunk thunked right in front of me and I used it as a springboard, heading toward the Treasure. But it didn¡¯t save me. Specifically, my tail got clipped by a tooth. And that clipping led to gnawing as the dragon ripped me backward and tossed me further into its jaws. Guard! It wasn¡¯t enough¡ªnot fast and not strong enough. The first crunch crushed me in full, taking half my HP. The second was only mildly softer thanks to the second Guard.
HP 10% (62/625)
SP 78% (466/600)
Urgh! Almost without thinking, I burned off three Minor Heals. Each one brought back 100 Health. Not amazing, not terrible. A necessary first step before getting out from between these teeth. Even with my limbs and neck hanging loose and hovering a foot from the muck, I could still act for sure. I chose an Ice Spell and hoped that if I thought about the concept of firing it directly behind me, it would indeed hit directly behind me. One all-too-brief, none-too-refreshing zing of peppermint later and the mud dragon¡¯s jaws were cracking with frost. With any luck, so were their nerve endings and muscles. A very sad side effect of this was the frost leeching onto my own fur and threatening to stop my heart cold. With the dragon freezing and briefly panicked, though, I had time to yank my front legs up onto the side of the lower jaw, get a bit of a springboard, and pull my body out. Then, instead of tumbling straight down to the mud again, I sprinted across the dragon¡¯s rapidly cooling head to the other side, so I could face the spot with the Treasure. All while being surrounded by eight dragon heads¡ªsix of them actively watching and hissing, a couple of them even raising themselves high like those brachiosauruses of old. It wasn¡¯t intimidating at all! It wasn¡¯t, that is, if you cleared your head of everything but the goal. Suddenly the heads staring me down weren¡¯t enemies so much as opportunities. To be precise, they, like the jaws of their compatriot, were more springboards. In a single second, my mind constructed its own kind of map out of all the heads and necks I saw before me. A simple one. One that could be translated into such simple statements as that one¡¯s higher, that one¡¯s lower, and the all-important that one¡¯s closest. Probably came in the nick of time, too, because all those mouths and their tusks like blades started glowing the moment I started bouncing. Leap! I began by jumping on that closest head, then ricocheted, bounded, and boinged in zigzags off of five more. I wanted this to keep going. Maybe Chora and Reed didn¡¯t have any more of a clue about ¡°my element¡± than I did, but we were certainly in agreement about my Speed being a very good non-element element of mine. That and pinballiness! As my feet left the final dragon so fast and forcefully that my paw pads were numb and tingling, a whole bunch of them released Skill energy from their glowing mouths. Just the quality of the air, felt in an instant, told me what it was: with hard gusts like these and no change in temperature, it had to be a mess of wind-based Skills. All flying to make a cross-section on me! But no sooner had these gusts been unleashed than my stride through the sky took a sudden downturn. High Gravity! Bracing myself for impact, I knew that the actual fun part of this was over and the sarcastically fun part had just begun. And just in case I needed more force to plunge meters and meters down, I made a few more preparations¡­ First, I let off two more Guards, for four total. Both for defense and to make it easier to break the surface.
HP 57% (359/625)
SP 56% (334/600)
Then I burned a High Gravity. This gave me barely enough time to curl up and pray for my inner ears before smacking into the mud¡ªand through. Now I was falling about as fast as I¡¯d have expected to cannonball in standard water. Which didn¡¯t feel very fast, but I reminded myself that it was semisolid, and the impact had to have made, at least, a big gross splash. This was my smartest gambit yet! Even with my eyes closed, I found I could still see the Map behind my closed eyelids if I willed it. So that¡¯s what I did as I fell farther down. Okay, so I was off target, but only by a smidge. That wasn¡¯t a problem, I¡¯d probably just fall right next to the thing. So it¡¯d be directly to the right of me¡­or the left. Or maybe it¡¯d be like five paces to my left, such that I¡¯d have to search around for it. Also, I had no air down here. ¡­I flailed in a panic for a good three seconds¡ªwhich, of course, accomplished nothing¡ªbefore I had the epiphany of a lifetime, and proof that limited Wisdom had a leg up on limited Intelligence. Air Cutter? My front paw swatted as far as it could, which wasn¡¯t very far, considering it was being hemmed in from all sides by goo. This was perfect because it allowed me to plunge my head into the perfectly still cut of air and take in a single gulping breath. Soon I sank past the air bubble, but at least it¡¯d given me some time to look on my whole plan with sane eyes. Okay, so¡­finding this Treasure would probably take blasting away the area immediately surrounding the Treasure, to give me a chance to actually detect it. But the only thing I had that seemed able to burst stuff like mud apart was the Lightning Spell, and that was in my bag, yep. Ploomp. I didn¡¯t hear my landing so much as feel it. Alright, considering how deep the trench looked on the Map, maybe I had been falling decently fast. Now to activate some Lightning and hope it didn¡¯t insta-char me. Well, fine, I¡¯d Meditate a couple of times first¡­
SP 34% (202/600)
WIS 152 (+100%)
And maybe I¡¯d release all the Spells into an air bubble, rather than directly in front of my face. Yeah! That stood a chance, kinda! Air Cutter¡­ Mud cleared directly in front of my face, in a kind of vertical oblong. Not much space, but it¡¯d have to do. And two Lightnings?! A loud, indescribable sound filled the bubble. Followed by another. I can only describe it, in fact, as adfkragnofsk or some other assortment of pretty random letters. If mud hadn¡¯t been singing in my ears, I would¡¯ve needed like five Levels at least to recover from the sheer noise of it. But! I could feel the world bursting away, expanding below the tides of mud. Instead of my eyes being forced closed, they could see everything! And everything was pretty much rocks, as I¡¯d expected. Also, everything was illuminated for less than a second, and my camera was in my bag. (As if it would¡¯ve been useful anyway.) But that was fine, actually, because the point of this wasn¡¯t to see things for a long time. It was to clear space so I could fire a Ice Spell, then slap my paws around thinking Inventory Inventory as fast as nekomata-ly possible. Ice crackled to life above and around me. I had a surprising amount of room down here¡ªmaybe a two-meter diameter of putrid, putrid space. And that ice was cracking apart already! Of course it was. I guessed I couldn¡¯t expect a random quantity of ice to hoist up an entire lagoon, no matter how magical it was. So I raced around in literal circles, thinking, Inventory Inventory! And eventually¡­
Treasure Acquired!
My whole body relaxed at that pop-up. Then almost at once, High Gravity wore off, the ice all shattered, and I Leaped straight up. Whether I could even reach the surface safely this way was a mystery, but having gotten this Treasure in a way that was so weird, so seemingly impossible, was making me feel a little invincible. 99. A Lovely Scrub I wished I could¡¯ve had eyes in the sky to watch what the mud dragons were doing when I cannonballed deep into their huge pond. Sure, maybe they had been rampaging just as fiercely as they had been when I was up above the surface. But it was funnier to imagine that the moment I¡¯d disappeared, they all went ¡°phew, she¡¯s totally dead now¡±¡­or did the exact opposite, thinking ¡°holy crap, where¡¯d she go?!¡± Turning the whole place over for what might¡¯ve been their equivalent of an especially pesky ant. While my Leap from the bottom of the lowest trench hadn¡¯t brought me all the way up to dry land, it did send me careening into a mud dragon¡¯s body. It could¡¯ve been a tail, a neck, or a limb. Didn¡¯t really matter¡ªI just latched on and got ready to spring off. 136 SP wasn¡¯t much, but it was definitely enough to Leap again. It turned out I didn¡¯t have to, because the thing was a limb and it went kicking up into the sky. This was the first time I¡¯d seen one of these dragons raise a front foot, and I assumed it meant they were furious. The intensifying hisses and beginnings of fresh roars were another sign. As I clung to the scaly kneecap and looked out at the crowd, I realized something¡­ I still need a whole claw from one of these creatures! (Eighty-five percent of a claw, but, uh, that wasn¡¯t any better.) I almost sighed aloud. While I did hate the idea of doing this, I hated the idea of leaving without a cantrip that could save my life and the lives of others more. So as the dragon¡¯s limb completely left the mud, I inched down from the kneecap and used the last of my SP¡ªalmost the very last¡ªon another Skill. Slash. And carved my claws into that toe with as much viciousness and vengeance as I could muster. A mud dragon launched a volley of wind at me. I just shut my mud-encrusted eyes and weathered it¡ªnot paying attention to my HP, only knowing it was low. I didn¡¯t care. I just sliced and sliced until my wrists wanted to burn away. My plan was just to finish carving and then get to safety. I finished the grisly business. Then I flung the spoils as far away as I could in a single crack of my neck. Then I flung myself away. This got us both to the shore, and that was enough. With a Treasure in my Inventory and a more dubious, lizard-toe-shaped treasure in my mouth, I sprinted away, and all the while, the less exhausted part of me was laughing.
Victory!
As I got myself to a bit of land that seemed to not have too many little crawling spiders, I finally took a seat. That Victory message was good to see, but the fact that it didn¡¯t come with details was really a pity. I mean, did the dragons feels affronted? Were they proud ¡®til the end, barely willing to acknowledge cat superiority? Well, whatever. I drew first blood on a bunch of dragons! Now I got to gnaw on a toe half the size of my body. And I, um, also got to quench my thirst using the vein. It¡¯s more practical than drinking from a Water Spell, and I forgot to bring a canteen. Then¡ªsince my eyes could confirm there was a totally intact claw on this digit without me needing to cycle it through my Inventory¡ªthat thing went in the Meat Locker.
Pit Dragon (Toe, Partial)
Flavor Profile: Chickeny Tip: The meat in pit dragons¡¯ extremities is more tender than that of the body, but also less juicy. Baste often.
Oh, hey, I could actually share these tips with my friends in the cabin now. Not that they would wanna share this specific half-eaten toe with me. Now, what kinds of gains had I gotten from my latest Level Up¡­and what kind of Treasure was floating around in my Inventory?
Level Up!
Lv. 22 ¡ú Lv. 23
EXP: 16% (552/3450)
HP 100% (653/653)
SP 100% (630/630)
ATK 123 (+1!)
INT 73 (+1!)
DEF 85
WIS 80 (+1!)
SPD 101 (+1!)
Amazing! Although with my Defense both fairly low and fairly un-upgraded, I had to wonder: did getting directly crunched by enormous and merciless jaws that had nearly killed me seriously not counted as training my Defense?This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Ah well. Considering how much I preferred speeding around to¡­defending around, it made sense that my raw Defense and HP would be lower-priority. In my Inventory was¡­
Lovely Hairpin
This fine ornament was worn by high society in the 68th century. Resembling a holly branch complete with glass berries and gold-lined leaves, it represents purity and victory.
Um¡­wow. I¡¯d long since stopped having high expectations for the Treasure I found. They were just as often swords of destiny as they were weird antique trash¡ªand it wasn¡¯t like the sword of destiny was helping right now. But this? One of my friends might like to wear it. Or maybe I might wear it. The thought startled me. But it¡¯s true! Come on, I¡¯m wearing human clothes right this minute! Or¡­I would be but they¡¯re locked in an interdimensional space until I change forms. But you get my point¡ªor I get my point! That idea was oddly compelling. I had to at least try it on. Something about the description reminded me of the bubble tree with the winey berries. Even if it was supposed to represent holly, the fact that it was lined with gold¡­ First, though, I had to get out of these literal piles of mud and clean myself up. ***
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 47% (14/30)
Current Location: ??? (S.F3)
The only thing I liked less than a field of mud was a field of bog. Great, just when I was thinking I¡¯d be relieved to move on. The air was still and rank, and the awful smell of the stagnant water combined with the awful smell of the dirt still clumping all over my body (which, just to remind you, had been refreshed by my escape from the mud dragons) to create¡ªyou guessed it¡ªa combinatorially awful smell. Humans seem to believe that animals don''t mind the smell of dirt or grime at all. That''s not true. Well, uh, in some cases it is true. But it''s contextual! I only want mud in context! A whiff of mud in a place I''m decently familiar with can tell me a lot about the creatures that''ve been in it. On Earth I could smell some ransacked garbage and determine how many cats had been in it, how old they were, and whether any of them were pregnant¡ªjust a lot of TMI stuff like that. Information I didn''t need to know except for very specific, mostly territorial reasons. Meanwhile, a whiff of mud in a place like the Vencian Wood, wacky wonderland, could tell me that maybe something scaly lived there, and probably some were male while others were female. It could tell me that yes, birds frequently soared above the mud, and yes, fish frequently swam within it and swished it around. Did I really need odors in order to know this? Did anyone? No. For most of my life, I had been both nauseated and intrigued by smells and the signals they gave. The ratio was like ten percent nauseated, ninety percent intrigued. Now, though¡ªnow that I''d been slightly human¡ªthat ratio was tipping the other way. The smell was becoming less and less tolerable. As I edged along a green-coated pond, I wondered, Am I losing a part of myself? ¡­And then I followed up, If I am, is that bad? A dog, I guessed, wouldn''t be able to stand losing their fascination with smell. But a cat¡­ A cat who''d never been particularly social, particularly competitive, or a particularly great hunter, she, at least, could do without it. I stood at the pond''s edge and pondered. Should I move on, or should I¡­dunk? I didn¡¯t have to ask me twice. I shot into the water, swishing and rolling to and fro like a dog on the family floor. When I rose, I was no longer covered in crusting mud. Instead I was covered in unidentifiable green. I felt like one single germ. And now I couldn¡¯t tell which was worse. It was late in the day, almost evening, and the idea of going out on a less-than-high note made me feel grumpy. ¡­Ooh, a rock kinda shaped like a bowl! Why wasn¡¯t this called a Treasure? Not far from the water was a moss-topped boulder about as large as me. I slapped some of the debris out from the middle of it and, satisfied with the shape at a glance, I climbed in and snuggled a little. Yes, good. This would work. Sometimes baths are a necessary evil. I stepped out. Then I used one of my precious Spells. I know, I know, Bayce would be unhappy. I would be unhappy! Was this not a valid use case for a Water Spell? Would she want me to run around being¡­green?! So there in the bowl, I activated a Water Spell with no particular direction. It was like combining a water balloon with a bomb. Smells of salt and cucumber accentuated the downright brutal explosion of water directly in my face that, in hindsight, I totally should have seen coming. On the other hand, if I¡¯d released the water upwards and let it fall, I would¡¯ve instead been mercilessly daggered by about fifty percent of it, at higher speed. Neither of these were good. ¡°Meaow!¡± I glubbed as the burst hit my face. It filled the bowl in an instant¡ªand then most of it splashed out. But about a third stayed in, and eventually stopped shaking back and forth. Yay! The Water Spell had produced a genuine bath! And now I could scrub off all the green mess along with the more frustrating mud. My ears felt blessed. Also, a whole lot of dragon blood came out from under my claws. If this helped me conclude anything about the Spell, it was that it contained more water than I¡¯d expected. Maybe twice as much water as a Fire Spell held fire, Maybe to compensate for how much stronger and more versatile fire tended to be in combat. Yeah, maybe water sucked as an element. It didn¡¯t really click with me. Why would Reed and Chora even entertain the idea that I¡¯m a water kind of gal? I thought as I slinked out of the bath, sparklingly clean and radiantly cold. Well, with the coast clear, I Morphed¡ªand immediately Morphed back, because that split-second feeling of my clothes enwettening was unnerving. Ugh. I¡¯d try on the hairpin a bit later. For now, I shuffled stuff around in my burlap sack. Now every Spell but Water was in easy access¡ªserved Water right.
Inventory: 10/10
Nature Spell x2 Debug Blade Minor Heal x5 Book of Sister¡¯s Shadow Burlap Sack High Gravity Spell x2 Ice Spell x2 Earth Spell x3 Low Gravity Spell x5 Attraction Spell x4
Everything was in kind of a nasty order, but I couldn¡¯t really help that. Not without sullying my mood with¡­eugh¡­even more persnickety inventory management. All that was settled¡ªenough. Now I wanted to focus on three things:
  1. Getting dry.
  2. Getting to wherever these flytraps were that Bayce needed.
  3. Getting up close and personal with a real ¡°sparring partner.¡± Some animal who was a match for me, not too strong, not too weak. (Those dragons were just way too strong.)
¡­Okay, maybe I had a fourth thing. I was also curious about that little map the Queen had left in her diary, and hating the fact that she hadn¡¯t connected it to anything that resembled my own Map. Where the heck in the Vencian Wood was it? Was it far east? Well, you couldn¡¯t get much further east than this bog, now, could you? All in due time, I told myself, and east I went. 100. Bog as Savannah I opened the diary to Entry Four: It is hard to do anything useful with the human. We share a body but we do not share a common language. Smell, common sense, and observation were all I needed in my last life, but now my Maker must be testing me. But common sense tells me the human wants to leave. Perfectly logical; humans do not grow from cocoons, nor do they like them. There have been times when the human, pleadingly, smiled and beckoned, but just as quickly¡ªjust like before¡ªthey change their tune, to anger. Cornered prey are all the same. This is new to me, this being a predator. Trying a different strategy, I decided to free them this evening, in a manner of speaking. I wish I could make my intentions clearer than the shimmers of my claws. Unfortunately for us both, this human can¡¯t read my words. Unfortunate for them far more than me. The thrill of it was exhilarating but far too short. As I began to laugh with the new feeling, I was overcome by a strange and full-body sense of weakness. Guilt as a pain? I didn¡¯t think it would be so literal. Words from the Queen¡¯s diary hung over me like a spiderweb veil. I wasn¡¯t sensitive or timid enough to let some creepy diary entry stop me from going about my own evening, but at the same time¡­ My mind worked trying to fill in the blanks. The shadowed creatures I passed in the woods became hostages. Sitting in nooks or hanging from branches, each seemed like a stepping stone to the scene of a murder. It¡¯s starting to point to an evil Arkmagus, I thought as I crept along, huh? Silence punctuated by the trill of crickets. Whatever, I thought, semifailing to brush it off. I kind of already knew that the Arkmagi were¡­um¡­not great. Teague¡¯s only crime was not being smart, probably, but Sierra was a jerk¡ªa very active and willful jerk¡ªand Norton, the dragon, had possibly entrusted me with a confusing sword to make up for messing up the whole human species. And speaking of experiments, hadn¡¯t that last one, whatever their name was, taken pride in making weird monsters? And when I saw them, they¡¯d seemed flippant about it. Like they didn¡¯t care about the consequences¡­or how those experiments might feel. Making careless deals with ominous figures out in space. The darkening sky seemed a little too vast as that thought crossed my mind. I hurried ahead so the trees overhead would come back to block it.
Current Location: Bog of Absolute Despair (S.F3)
¡­Oh, come on, I¡¯m not feeling that bad!
Name changed from ¡°Bog of Absolute Despair¡± to ¡°Kinda Bad Swamp.¡±
And that would prove it. Slowly but surely, my mind was coming back to the idea of finding some prey that would suit me. Like a rival, only¡ªpreferably¡ªcrushable in a single encounter. I could try to convert my cabin friends into sparring partners for more than just footraces, but that¡¯d have to come later. Besides, they wouldn¡¯t have the raw instinct and fight-for-your-life nerve as wild animals did. One thing I noticed about this patch of bog was the higher-than-usual amount of dead trees. I¡¯d climb over a fallen, hollow low¡­only to crawl through a fallen, hollow low¡­and butt up against another log (nonhollow). Some logs were visibly teeming with arachnids. Some were damp with the waters they¡¯d toppled into. A few were split right down the middle. Most of these, maybe even all, had clearly been tipped over by lightning, charred at the root. But with so many trees young and old overhead, and with the fallen trees covering a big age range too (or rot range might be a better term), the bog seemed eager to replace them. ¡­Maybe it was just my brain making the wrong connections, but something about all this proof of lightning heat and the chirping of krigrie-like crickets made me wonder if these were signs I was nearing the Queen¡¯s murder spot. Stay sharp, I reminded myself. Stay in the moment. I could just make out the details on a distant silhouette. Hanging from a tree by the tail, underneath a deep-blue sky, was a hairy raccoon with a maskless face and a ratty tail¡­otherwise known as an opossum. I really wanted to call it a ¡°possum,¡± even though there was a very specific note in my junk drawer of human information telling me that this was a common mistake. I began calling it that anyway¡ªit just sounded more fun and made me feel a little better. The animal was about my size, and almost looked like a prehistoric version of me¡­like my version of the mammoth-ducks from the mud ponds. It was almost disturbing! It made me wonder if cats had somehow evolved from rats, and I in no way wanted my mind going down that route. More importantly, as I stopped to watch from afar, I found there was something powerful about them. This possum was hanging with eyes wide open, their bearing stiff. Occasionally they would open their mouth to yawn, showing vicious little teeth and a curling tongue. But their paws never moved, and their eyes stayed vigilant. Once, a pale mist sprung up around the animal and then dissipated. No doubt that was a Skill. Maybe something protective like Meditate and Guard¡ªthat didn¡¯t glow like a dang headlight. I gave the possum about five more minutes after that. Then I put a tracking marker on them. I¡¯d rather not lose my prey.
Tracking marker applied.
Treating them deadly serious, I activated Cloak, after a Meditate and Guard of my own.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Having gauged the wind all this time, I knew it was about to pick up. I ran forward with the gust, knowing that Cloak alone would hide me but it wouldn¡¯t hide the way I disturbed the grass. Other tells¡ªlike, for example, the notice of some random bird that might take off or caw as they spotted me¡ªwere out of the question. Stealth and its minor Speed boost told me they weren¡¯t really watching me either. Then, when I was almost right in front of the tree, I Morphed just long enough to lob a Nature Spell up at the branch. This close, I didn¡¯t worry too much about accuracy¡ªthough I aimed as well as I could. New Spell, don¡¯t fail me now. In truth, I wasn¡¯t all that worried about it failing. If it did and the results were truly awful, I had more dependable stuff where that came from. The Spell exploded on the branch. Vines as thick as logs with thorns to match wrapped around the possum, and those that couldn¡¯t wrap, lashed. The animal quietly cried out. Then they succumbed. The vines went still, forming a kind of thorny egg around both the creature and the branch. Then a glow, one far brighter than any the possum had emanated before, seeped out from between the vines with a quiet hum, strengthening by the moment. I backed up and launched a High Gravity Spell. TH-THOOM. The branch cracked and the egg plummeted, three-quarters of it sinking into soft ground. But it wasn¡¯t the possum specifically that I¡¯d targeted¡ªit was the vines right on top. The egg now sagged in the middle, its thorns hopefully stabbing through the animal. But I didn¡¯t hear any cries or see any blood. I figured that right after this, the battle would begin in earnest. With my eyes locked on the still-glowing egg, I set off another Meditate, assuming that all this glowing meant the possum liked relying on Intelligence-based Skills. And as my Cloak came closing to wearing off, I prepared to use Slash instead of another one¡ªwhen both Skills used 138 of my limited SP, it was important to pick and choose. Normally it¡¯d be hard to choose between blunt aggression and stealth with an enemy I hardly knew, but I had vivid memories of getting bum-rushed by a steamroller in the middle of the night, so this time I preferred to be blunt. The glow hadn¡¯t stopped. Now it came to full flourish, blasting the vines apart with a sound of sizzling flame. The opossum emerged, their eyes locked on me. Wait¡ªthey can¡¯t! Not while I have Cloak active! ¡­Wait¡­I guess I did cast my latest Spell from around here. And there was an ever-so-slight gap and depression in the grass here, however I might try to disguise it by Cloak or otherwise. It all pointed to an animal who really was as watchful as I¡¯d been hoping. In a split second the light shifted, dimmed into a misty aura. Their eyes shone as if in headlights, but I knew that was the Skill entering their eyes¡ªand their bared teeth, which glowed without mercy. Then we had a standoff. For several seconds, we alternated between pacing and darting around each other, seeing our flanks and looking for weak spots, finding none. Even seconds before Cloak wore off, I was moving as if the possum could see me clearly. The possum lunged¡ªno, feinted. I had seen this coming, seen that the lunge had been half-hearted. I dodged with a jump, only to zigzag back and bare my fangs, going for their flank. Was it wise to bite into an enemy who was glowing all over with burning power? Probably not, and yet I had a feeling I could weather the pain thanks to the two Meditates I had going. I¡¯d also bet that if I used a Swipe or Slash, I¡¯d be stronger than the vines of the Nature Spell and would have a higher chance of drawing blood. I tore in, no mercy. Th epossum backed away even as I grabbed on, stopping me from forcing their body to the ground¡ªin fact, they were still moving as I bit down. They took off running, and I had to skitter after them with my two hind legs. Sort of like a disgraced lion going after an antelope who wouldn¡¯t fall. But that didn¡¯t sting so bad. I¡¯d gained purchase¡ªmy front claws sliced in and stayed. My skin did burn, with a weird sort of¡­alcoholic, antiseptic feeling. A popping and sizzling and blistering feeling. A horrifically boiling feeling. When I¡¯d had as much as my nerve endings could stand, I bit off a chunk of hide and reluctantly let myself fall to earth. The pain had been so intense that I hadn¡¯t even remembered to use Slash and increase my damage. It had been loud, even¡ªloud in my own head. A kind of pain that seemed to stifle thought.
HP 69% (448/653)
SP 61% (383/630)
Considering both that the possum hadn¡¯t laid a paw on me and that I¡¯d had Meditates active, losing a third of my Health to that was scary. As I began to really dash after the fleeing possum, I passed the chunk of hide I¡¯d ripped off. It was pathetic: nothing more than a bit of skin and fur. So pathetic that it fired me up. I wanted to do better. The possum and I matched each other in Speed. But they knew the territory better than I did, and they navigated around logs and ponds far better than my zoomed-in Map allowed me to do, let alone my naked senses. Another thing they had on me: excellent projectiles. They turned back at intervals to launch what seemed to be a concentrated bullet of the mist surrounding and infusing them. Even whizzing by, they burned the air I passed through. More than once those bullets had forced me to detour and nearly crash. Luckily, I hadn¡¯t been hit yet. Still, I didn¡¯t chance a Spell or an Air Cutter. The possum was far better at running and gunning than I was, and they weren¡¯t even managing to hit me! But they could afford to fail, having ammo that was either unlimited or too close to bottomless for them to care. Then a bullet scraped the side of my leg. HP: 55% (361/653)
HP 55% (361/653)
By this time, one of my two Meditates had worn off. Just a scrape in my current condition had carved away¡­what, an eighth of my HP? And it still hurt! I was sure I¡¯d see blisters all over me when this fight was over, including on this little bit of my leg that¡¯d hardly been clipped. That¡¯s it, I thought, watching the possum dart a half-meter ahead and slowly get further. Either I use my first Low Gravity or I Leap. Well¡­Low Gravity felt less limited than my SP-using moves. Also more tricky. But if I used it right, I could sorta moon-bounce my way up to the possum. Maybe if I caught them by surprise, I could even find a weak spot¡ªinside the mouth, for instance? I mean, not to burn them alive, but to, like, scratch until they give in. That seemed fair. I used the Spell. Wouldn¡¯t you know it, the possum stopped. After a cloudburst that smelled of fresh linen, I jumped, overshot, and bumped into a tree about two meters ahead of the possum. At least I crashed with the side of my body, not just my dang snout. When I got my first look at the possum behind me, they seemed to¡­not even be looking my way. In fact, I knew that look, the way their hair stood on end. That possum hadn¡¯t stopped because it¡¯d known I would suddenly fly towards them. Something was coming, and as my awkwardly light body slid back to loamy ground, I turned the same way the possum had, cocked my ear. Distant rustling getting louder. Something carving a straight line right through the forest. It reminded me of a subway train, sans horn and light. As strong as a natural disaster, but breathing, living. And soon it would come, blazing a path between the possum and me. A common enemy¡­ 101. Sideways Meteor Shower As the far-off rustles of so many disturbed trees changed to a closer murmur, the possum waited at the top of a rotten quarter of a log and stared at me. The lights in their eyes had dimmed, but still swirled like milk, and a faint mist wafted from their teeth. I stared back, hackles slightly raised. But then I realized that the possum wasn¡¯t staring into my eyes with the same challenge as before. With head angled a little downward, front paws close together, and shoulders lowered, they seemed to be¡­maybe not surrendering, but backing down? And asking a wordless question. Whatever animals were rushing toward that gap between us, their murmurs had risen to a roar of activity. Soon they would whoosh past. And then what? The possum seemed to know best. They made a ¡°come on¡± motion with their head right before diving into a hole that could have been a snake¡¯s den. Without hesitation, I raced forward. If this was a tactic on the possum¡¯s part, well, I had my claws and would be ready for close combat. But maybe they were honest. I dove in after the possum and found the den way smaller and shallower than I¡¯d expected. Prodded by my enemy¡¯s urging nose, I snuggled in as much and as tightly as I could. The ground had actually begun to tremble, and I couldn¡¯t help wondering if I¡¯d have been safer atop the trees than down here. What was even going on? A stampede? That seemed likely until the rushing sounds outside became even clearer. Bats? Bats. Lots and lots of bats. It explained the chitters and the flapping of wings against leaves. But when I actually saw the tide roar past, I second-guessed that assumption too. THWOOSH. The whole screaming choir flew past, wings nearly scraping the edges of the pit and filling it with a harsh gust. Above us were endless blurred figures, squealing like rodents, slender like fish darting in a pond. Scattered throughout the flock were¡ªblares of red?! I instinctively trembled. Not because I was scared, but because I really really wanted to touch them. Those lights I¡¯d seen earlier. I had an urge to go out and scamper and slap them all. They actually made me kind of angry. What were they and why were they so defiantly flashing past with¡­with all these flying bat-fish? Without explaining themselves? The nerve! When the flock had been hurrying past for several seconds, the possum started moving, and I stiffened. I knew it, I thought, flexing my claws. Kind of. But I shifted as much as I could in this tight space and let the possum have their way. They seemed less interested in landing a blow on me, though, than in jumping back outside. Front paws were anchored on the pit¡¯s edge, and their still-fading eyes stared out. Again they swung their head toward me (though so close up that their nose could¡¯ve knocked me out). ¡°Come on!¡± They wanted me to follow? Um, okay¡­ Not just yet. The flock was still racing past with its infuriating trails of red, like it would never end. So the possum was waiting for the perfect moment¡ªand hopefully that moment wouldb be as clear to me as it was to them. I only had so much space to stand upright and get ready to dash myself. With my body in a U-curve and my nose against the possum¡¯s tail, I threw in my lot with a stranger and got as ready as I could. Luckily, the signal to jump was as clear as I could¡¯ve wished. First I noticed a change in the noise. My ears picked up an absence: the back of the flock was coming up. Squinting, I studied the soundscape harder. Hm¡­that may have been the end of the flock, but there was certifiably something else there. Like a predator. Something that made large wingbeats. Seconds later, I saw it come to pass. The flock ended, taking with it every light and tiny shriek, and loosed leaves fluttered in their wake. Then I heard a human laugh. An image of the lycanborns flashed in my mind. I shrank back¡ªthe possum wasn¡¯t getting me into that kind of steep trouble, were they? No wild animal in their right mind would do it! But I felt that I was in too deep to doubt. I stifled a sigh and did as the possum did.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. A whoosh almost as great as the flock¡¯s came to the pit¡ªand that was when we jumped. A vast silhouette passed overhead. It could¡¯ve been a humpback whale for how long and massive the moment seemed to me. Or was that only the way their wings blocked out all light, replaced the hot red? Either way, we were jumping into what could¡¯ve been a void, and turned out to be a scaly tail. As I latched on, I heard another laugh. But it wasn¡¯t human, it was the cackle of that possum hanging on right next to me. They were fully wrapped around the tail as if they¡¯d done this before¡ªI almost wondered if they¡¯d switch to hanging by their own. Considering this animal was racing through the bog at high speeds, that¡¯d be a feat! Meanwhile, here I was struggling to anchor my back legs on the speeding, waving scales. I knew that I couldn¡¯t project every human interpretation of laughter onto this animal¡¯s cackle¡­but a few of the same feelings were there for sure. Exhilaration, relief, pleasure. Impishness. The tail of the speeding, night-darkened dragon tried to scrape us off on a tree on a hard bank. The possum simply held on tight and glowed blue¡ªI was caught by surprise and couldn¡¯t use Guard in time. Still, I held on too. The damage was practically a scratch. Just as I was wondering whether we were going to ride on this thing all night, a current of aura rocked the tail. It whipped so fast and so violently that the possum and I had no choice but to be flung away, in two impressive arcs. I curled up and used Guard, and from the corner of my eye realized that the possum had done it too. We arced down through the trees¡ªwow, we¡¯d gone that far?¡ªand crashed to earth. Well, it was more like bouncing to earth. We hit soft, intriguingly springy soil, and it took a second to land for real and go still. I unfurled on a carpet of moss. A second later, so did the possum. Again, it was wrong to interpret their smile as a jolly one. Just as wrong as interpreting my own face as permanently pensive and unamused. As you know, I¡¯m amused by many things in life..and it was just as likely that this possum was greatly unamused. You look to body language for that part. With the light in their eyes nearly gone, they groomed a little bit, showing that they were relaxing a little and hoped that I could do. Also, they were laughing again now, a little too hard. So hard that it felt awkward for me not to contribute anything. ¡°Meow,¡± I offered, so quietly that it seemed ridiculous. The possum came closer, looking playful. I took a sauntering step back, but the possum approached me again with a massive grin¡ªand chomped it right over my throat. We fell over in a wrestling tangle, teeth over jugulars, claws pressed against one another¡¯s hides, rolling and rolling on surprisingly springy moss. We were play-wrestling, fighting without malice, growling and pressing but careful not to break the skin. Then, a minute later, we rolled apart¡­and I remembered that I was no longer just a feral cat, but partly human and partly an adventurer. I looked back the way the dark dragon had gone, the way the human laugh had gone, and checked it against my Map. All of this battling and, uh, sudden spontaneous traveling had taken me to the southeast corner of this smelly bog. And just like I¡¯d suspected, the red flock and the dragon had gone further south. What were they doing out here? Maybe the dragon was corralling the red-light bat things, sort of like a shepherd would in the far more normal western half of the Vencian Wood? I still kind of suspected this was like a whale chasing krill. ¡°Predator chases prey¡± certainly wasn¡¯t an uncommon woodland motif. More importantly, though¡­what was I doing out here? Looking at the possum again, it was almost hard to imagine that I had just sort of gone with everything that had happened over the past several minutes. But that¡¯s how it goes with wild animals sometimes. If you don¡¯t share a common language beyond gesture, you can never really discover what happened on an odd night, or why another entity does the things it does. Not only true of humans, but true of countless species¡ªand countless individuals and their odd habits of following red trains and jumping onto the caboose, or what-have-you. We ended up fighting again. Real-fighting and not play-fighting, but still a fight forged on understanding. I wanted to get stronger, not to eat or maim them, and given what we¡¯d just been through, the hiding and the wrestling, the possum seemed to believe me in that. I liked fighting in close quarters. The possum obliged. We did the dance in the mossy clearing, in full view of the stars. Glowing cream-yellow and blue, we slashed at each other, darted back, coated ourselves in aura, and whipped energy at ankles when we sensed our foe was getting too distant and too cocky. I focused on blending my fighting style with more ducks, dodges, and quick dashes away¡ªon the union of power and speed. We stopped when both of us were tired. The possum not only lolled out their tongue, but defiantly rolled, mid-attack, onto their back. The way they exposed their belly was almost proud. They knew I would not hit them. At close range, the possum seemed to be a tanky and defensive fighter by nature. They¡¯d switched to more active offense, but only for my sake, and I could practically feel the difference. I appreciated it. It was hard, though, to accept that this might be as close as I could get to meeting my match on some random outing in the woods. I wished I could just fight my mirror image¡ªor, better yet, my mirror image who also had a couple of Levels on me. Still, this would have to be good enough. When all was said and done, I flopped to the ground just as the possum flopped over on their back. Letting myself breathe deeply, I wondered, with a pang of fright, whether we¡¯d both get zero Experience Points for all this trouble. Did a tie count for anything? Well¡­in a worst-case scenario, it had given me more combat training, and that running and dodging earlier had stretched both my legs and my brain. But I couldn¡¯t help feeling cheated by the¡ª
Victory!
Never mind, then! The possum across from me laughed. It sounded like a cheer. 102. Field of Fun
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 50% (15/30)
Current Location: Bog of Possibility (S.F3)
There were several odd things about this scene. I was trotting through the very very south end of a bog-square with a playful opossum who was ¡°totally not following me.¡± The fellow creature stopped and started and looped around my path, as if we both just so happened to be going the same way. This was kind of ridiculous. Yes, many animals make cooperative unions like this, but I never had. Any scenes of working together on Earth, I ended with a hiss and a running-away. Then again, on Earth I was often betrayed and gotten the better of by cats who were stronger, and frankly smarter. And why expose myself to anyone after that? Hanging out with an animal of some random species was even a little weird on Vencia. Approaching humans was, of course, different. Humans liked pets, for one. Everybody knew that. I¡¯d seen humans with birds and livestock. I¡¯d seen a witch play a flute for a fish. But a human hanging out with, like, a bear¡­I still had yet to bump into that. And that reminded me. I¡¯d heard some human laughter earlier, or sworn I did. But all I saw racing by at the time was a dragon, though details were hard to make out when all you saw were a shadow followed by some blurry hindquarters. Big wings¡­a deep-green, scaly tail¡­uh, no scrapey ridges¡­ Well, that was kind of the whole reason why I was traveling south right now. See, the subway train¡¯s worth of bats and red things had flown from north to south, all looking very determined. It all gave the impression that if I followed, I¡¯d see something major. The opossum kinda-sorta-definitely following me seemed to agree, though I had a feeling that their favorite part of the passing dragon was simply the adrenaline-fueled jump onto their tail. As my Map told me we were butting up against the bog¡¯s southern edge, I noticed that the trees just ahead were a glorified curtain¡ªthick forest stopped here. I paused and turned to the possum slinking in the shadows. Possy paused too. Possy yawned. ¡­In some ways it was unsettling to hang out with what looked like a dog-rat hybrid, but I didn¡¯t choose this life. It wasn¡¯t like any other cats were watching and ready to make fun of me. The one who would was hanging out in Silent Goddess Space, and probably wouldn¡¯t come back unless I started cooking a delicious meal. Either way¡­I broke the veil. This was another spot in the Vencian Wood where the transitions between squares were heartbreakingly obvious. In this case, I emerged on a thankfully not-muddy field. The ground was so flat that it could¡¯ve been laid out with a rolling pin, but lush with grass and prairie flowers. The sky was bright with a dusting of stars, and the grass seemed to radiate cool mist.
Current Location: ??? (S.F4)
Crickets, the krigries¡¯ smaller and hopefully much less violent cousins, echoed across the land. Actually, I hoped they were fifty percent more violent, so that crushing them could actually net me some EXP. Playing with Possy had gotten my Experience infuriatingly close to the next-Level finish line, with just 33 left until Level 24. But just as I was thinking that, a strange sight on the horizon took my mind on a one-eighty. Dark trees dotted the fields for a while, until the horizon, where they gave out completely. Over there¡­was that a human city? I wouldn¡¯t have been surprised. After all, a village and farmland bordered this forest on one end, so why not the other. But then I closed my eyes for a moment and gave it a listen. Behind the chorus of crickets, I could hear¡­nothing. No signs of the typical human activity, at least.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. And if those were cityscape towers and monuments rising above the trees, they certainly were wacky. At this distance, even my sharp night vision couldn¡¯t help me much with the details. The tallest thing looked like a skyscraper with a few spheres studded down its length. A shorter one had just two spheres, one at the top and one in the middle. Maybe these were more like command towers or lighthouses. In fact, I swore one did have the shape of a lighthouse. Possy drew closer as I closed my eyes again. My ears were picking up hints of chatter, just not human language. It was clear to me that this wasn¡¯t supernatural chatter. What we had here was a human setting taken over by critters. For that matter, what few trees and bushes were scattered across the plain let out intermittent chatter too. If I had to guess, this whole place was dotted with¡­more strong rodents like Possy. My roomy closet of human information told me that not only were opossums not rodents but marsupials, a better nickname for this one would be ¡°Opossy.¡± I wished I could swat at intrusive thoughts the same way I could a box. In any case, everything came together to tell me I should slowly get closer and try not to slap crickets too eagerly, because one wrong slap could startle a sleepy raccoon and give them a reason to gnaw on me. With about half my Health and SP, I didn¡¯t want my paws writing checks that my body couldn¡¯t cash. We walked closer and the city grew larger¡­but not that much larger. Okay, let me stop calling it a city, then. But a village? No! There was also an utter lack of lights, even the compellingly red ones. As we went, we found more evidence of strong human presence in the not-too-ancient past. Bottles and a shard of glass that cut me. Then wheels, and even an overgrown cart, fallen under brambles. Inside was splotchy dirt and a bed of worms. The grooves in the wood had been hollowed out and chewed away with¡­hm¡­maybe fifty years¡¯ worth of time. On the side of the wagon were words! Yes! Another chance to test my cantrip! Uh, T¡­H¡­OW¡­and half a Y? Maybe I can use context clues to figure out the rest, and Sierra, you can give me a Quest for it? Huh? My mind was filled with utter silence. When a paper label was this moth-eaten, no context-clueing would put it together again. Maybe it said ¡°The Hottest Show In¡­Yown.¡± Whatever, I tried. What I¡¯d assumed was a little horse-drawn thing next to a flagpole was, in fact, connected to that flagpole. The pole was hollow, and ragged at the tip. Who knows? Maybe this wagon had once been hooked up to a dragon or a bat, who flew it around instead of galloping it around. Collecting detective clues was oddly fun, but not very helpful. Possy was eating the worms. I decided to eat some too. It was a horrible decision in most ways, but it did give me 3 of those Experience Points I¡¯d been hurting for. Possy, you¡¯ve done it again! Finally, we reached the tiny city¡¯s limits. A gate surrounded the place, sealed with huge aluminum shutters. Rather, once sealed. One shutter had fallen enough to expose a triangle-wedge of space and both faced holes in the earth, each big enough for a bear cub to crawl in. Crawling my way through one of the holes, I then peered up and found a grand archway, its words weathered but not erased:
CORNUTOPIA: A FIELD OF FUN! ¡û Reservations Ticket Booth ¡ú
Below was every sign of human abandonment. The springy concrete that would ordinarily be swept clean had dirt, windblown refuse, and worse. Right in front of the ticket booth, I spotted a splash of bones. And the statue of a humanoid corncob, smiling with a single tooth, was discolored in such a way that it seemed rotten. It even had a black eye! Somehow that was the worst part. A month ago, nothing about this would have fazed me¡ªnot beyond the ordinary ¡°stay on guard.¡± But now I had more context. First, no place was just ¡°random human place.¡± Possibly millions of humans had come here to laugh, celebrate, and ride rides. I mean, they were rides about¡­corn, apparently¡­but you see my point. Now all of that was over and their treasured memories were being smeared by blood, waste, and the stench of death. Second, if that got melodramatic, it¡¯s because it was also mixing with what I had read in the Book of Sister¡¯s Shadow. I had an eerie feeling about this place, maybe way eerier than I should. Yet I felt that I had to know more. To my surprise, my heart was racing. I pulled myself out of the pit and calmed down, then reminded myself of how ridiculous I was being. My cat-core was right: this was just a mildly unique neck of the woods, and it did contain more of those familiar Vencian critters. It didn¡¯t hold any challenges I couldn¡¯t face, had nothing I hadn¡¯t seen before. See, I even had an ally! Possy had scampered ahead several seconds ago and was now chewing on a bone. Well, if ever there was a sign to never fear, maybe that was it. I decided to forge ahead into Cornutopia (a name so sad it made me shiver. Did Vencian kids of the recent past really get so thrilled over corn?). But if I was gonna do this, I¡¯d try to do it right. To start, I experimentally placed the Sapphire Queen¡¯s personal map of Probably-Cornutopia over my own Map of F4, starting in front of where I was right now: I¡¯d probably have to turn it ninety degrees or something, depending on where the Queen had envisioned the entrance archway, but yeah, this¡¯d do. It was good to have at least some landmarks. It also helped me to stay task-focused. So I went through my big laundry list of things I could do and wanted to do once again, then pulled out my current Top Three:
  1. Find flytrap vines.
  2. Find Queen murder victim spot.
  3. Destroy lots of raccoons.
Actually, yeah! That seemed reasonable. Plus, now I had a companion. Possy might even be able to help me find flytrap vines, if any were around here. If I showed them vines from a Nature Spell and made my intentions clear, then¡ª Oh. Possy was already gone. That was what I deserved for treating them like any random subservient dog, I guessed. No matter! I forged ahead, staying close to booths, meeting the shadows. 103. Calmcation Much better. Now I had the Queen¡¯s map overlaid on Cornutopia in what, despite not being able to see too much from here, I was convinced had to be the right way. Here I was just in front of the long arch thing, and all around me were towering figures caked in shadow, buildings and rides between trees and overgrowth. Once again, night vision at a distance could only do so much. But just knowing that the ¡°vacation spot¡± the Queen had mentioned was a corn-based theme park was helping a lot. For instance, what had once appeared to be the very top of an enormous football was most likely gonna prove to be another giggling food product, once I got past the trees that obscured it from this angle. Willows with clawed hands, most of them young and hardy, had sprung up in what had once been furrowed fields. They helped give a new, creepy texture to what had once been an amusement park. Amusement parks! I¡¯d never been. My old home hadn¡¯t had one, so in my mind, this kind of place only lived in my mental encyclopedia. But once I took a few deep breaths in the shadows behind the ticket booth, got past some initial creepiness, I made some connections with playgrounds. Those I knew. Once I¡¯d snuck into a fast-food playplace. I scared everyone and¡ªthinking back to it and using my noggin to translate what little I remembered¡­I seemed to recall convincing many parents that their children had air-transmitted rabies. Exciting times! Anyway, if moving deeper into this park revealed some playplace-like, roughly cat-sized, slightly cat-appropriate bunches of tubes and slides, I might actually have a great time here! Plus, I could change forms now! Finally I could use those wibbly-wobbly animal-faced things on springs that children rocked back and forth on! Did those even have names? According to the knowledge Sierra had seen fit to bestow upon me, no. But I would call them ¡°steeds,¡± and I would be eagerly searching for them. Sadly, everything I¡¯d seen to date was a little structure or a big ride. The Queen¡¯s help was so vague that it didn¡¯t help in this regard. The way I saw it, I could either start exploring by moving along the ground or start by using one of the skyscraper-like rides as a lookout point. The second option seemed smarter than the first¡ªI could use a strong foundation. Right behind the ticket booth was a pavilion edged with patches of furrowed soil, now viney, and guideposts, now rotten. A tiny baby ride lay to my left, one where babies once sat in half-acorn cups and whirled around in a gentle figure eight. It took no focus whatsoever to hear the chorus of snores and snuffles from within those acorn cups. I¡¯d need to move a little further to find any towers. I figured any path would do¡­until I saw a red light from the corner of my right eye. It was just daring me to come closer, wasn¡¯t it?
EXP: 99% (3420/3450)
A combination of being very very close to the next Level and unnatural hatred for these elusive bright lights meant I wasn¡¯t afraid to be all-in aggressive. I stayed shrouded in shadow but was by no means unseen as I sprinted for the thing, red shining off my eyes. The light swung around a corner like a bauble on a spring, like a cartoon antenna. Around that corner were the wrecked tracks of a mini-railroad. Even though its sign was fairly readable, and that was rare, I paid it little attention. Gliding along the tracks was a peaceful procession of the same beings I¡¯d seen with Possy just earlier. Standing still and watching them drift, I saw clearly what they were. When the girls at the cabin talked about spirits ¡°always¡± passing through the Vencian Wood, some part of me had never believed it. Yes, there was a chapel-y thing at one end and a mystical golden dragon near another and a pond with a pretty cool fish in it in between, and sure, a town on Earth with even one of those things would be considered excessively supernatural. But in a world defined by magic? ¡°Hotbed of spiritual activity¡±? Where?!If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. It was oddly relieving to see these fairies. Satisfying to have a little more ¡°proof.¡± I hadn¡¯t even noticed before that the creatures themselves glowed. It was a moonlight glow, far paler than the irritating red at the ends of their irritating sticks. From here, about a meter away, I knew that red came from things like fluffy dandelions, each twice the size of its bearer¡¯s head. The fairies, for all the elegance in their dresses and bearings and flickering wings, held the flowers like battle mallets. They glowed like the red Skills of Strength. Then a cry rang out closer to the back of the line. The chitter didn¡¯t seem quite right for a fairy, but maybe that just meant it didn¡¯t fit the typical Earthling¡¯s image of them. It was a batlike squeal for sure. All the fairies stood at attention. So did I, wondering if maybe they were about to retaliate against me. Sure, I was ¡°hidden,¡± but I wasn¡¯t in Stealth and the one fairy had pointedly fled from me. Then they took off again, all chittering. What I¡¯d thought were bigger wingbeats in the bog had to have been bodies rushing against leaves, because their dragonfly wings made much less noise when the woods were a little less thick. Human laughter bubbled up again. This got me to withdraw further, standing against a tall willow¡­only to watch as yet another being paid me no mind. The dragon was humanoid, and the human was draconic! The revelation made me want to smack my forehead for not having seen it until now. The winged, scaled human fell from high-speed flight into a jog, arms spread like those of a child hurrying ducks off the shallows of a pond. Now I had them totally in my sights! Except I didn¡¯t, because even when I looked straight at them, a mist seemed to cloud them. No, seemed to cloud my mind. It had to be a Spell on me, right? Nothing else looked this way, especially not the fairies, which had been clear as day. What should have been piercing eyes looked instead like hazy disks of orange. I thought I was seeing a cap of peach-colored hair, but it appeared as a blur. And as the face turned to me, it gasped, and the figure moved to take flight. ¡°Meaow!¡± I cried, stepping out of the shadows. Hastily I Morphed, wishing I hadn¡¯t startled them, hoping to make a connection. Unfortunately, I acted too fast. No sooner had the poof of transformation sprung up than the dragon-human flew off again, toward the fairies they had just been shooing and herding. My reaching hand fell in defeat. That was a couple of mysteries partially solved¡­but now that I knew there was a stranger behind it¡ªwho seemed friendly, or at least like they had an average mortal core¡ªI felt newly unfulfilled. Ah¡­Possy had set my hopes too high. Maybe the dragon person didn¡¯t want to make friends with people who jumped onto their tail without asking. With my thoughts racing, I had hardly even noticed that a few fairies were still drifting around in the space above the railroad tracks. Now my eyes settled on them the way they might on lava lamps. They looked so peaceful revolving in a slow circle. Peaceful enough that I could ignore the frustrated chatter between them. Eventually they turned to me and looked me over. I blinked. Wow, how¡¯d it take you so long? Whoops. I¡¯d forgotten to un-Morph, but¡­given that it had been costing less SP lately and I was this close to a Level-Up, maybe I¡¯d stay like this for a bit. I didn¡¯t mind it as much as I used to, especially not in a slow moment. The fairies¡ªabout seven of them¡ªbobbed closer. They looked cautious, grips tightening around their weapons. Vicious, though? No, not at all. I took a seat on the stump and just watched them come closer, looking them over the same way they scrutinized me. I brought out my claws. Might as well be prepa¡ªow! A flower-mallet had just whacked my knee! It didn¡¯t hurt so much as make me feet indignant. Especially because I swatted at it on instinct¡ªand swatting did nothing but hurt my hand! Ow! Stop laughing! But they only grinned and tittered more. And raised their tiny weapons exuberantly above their heads. OW! NO! Arms lifted across my head didn¡¯t do nearly as much to protect me as the Guard I used at the same time, but somehow it felt right. The giggling of all the fairies ganging up on me hurt my pride, and that might as well have been hurting my soul. Whipping my arms out, I tried to brush off as many as I could in one fell swoop. I got four, who went tumbling into the bushes. The three others gasped theatrically, hands over their mouths. And for my part, the force of my own aggravated motion sent me back-first onto the ground, heels sticking up over the stump. Darnit. Even if I was the strongest, I still came out looking the worst. Where¡¯s my EXP, darnit?! I asked Fate itself (or herself) as I crawled upright. But the laughter of fairies both near and far was my answer. I had beaten none of them. And if I went on refusing to play by their rules, I would not win. For all that I kinda-sorta pitied them, since they¡¯d been chased willy-nilly by that dragon person and that had to be annoying¡­I also had just gotten annoyed by them. Maybe it¡¯s okay for a human to shoo off ducks if those ducks pecked and tore at their shirt first. When the four fairies closest to me cried out in unison and zipped off into the trees, their infamous lights bobbing behind, I knew I¡¯d been challenged. Don¡¯t take the bait, Taipha, I said to myself. Please. There¡¯s no way it¡¯ll be worth it. Just set your pride aside and remember your goals. I had to physically nod to myself. That¡¯s how important they were. And how hard it was to push my emotions away. But¡­well¡­if a fairy or two just happens to be in the way as I move towards that big tower, I thought, looking up at the thing like a lighthouse, I won¡¯t argue. 104: Beacon of the East A moonlight-colored figure passed through a locked metal door, just like a ghost. Skidding to a stop, I almost slammed my cheek on the thing. Was this about to be a test of my Strength, or a test of my¡ªugh¡ªextremely lacking finger dexterity? I took another look up at what seemed to be the Cornutopia Lighthouse: a lighthouse covered almost head to toe in steel. It doubled as the location of a ¡°powerful stone,¡± according to the map I put on my Map (a sentence that, thankfully, makes sense). The huge lock on the door was caked with rust, and yet, even just cupping it in one hand for a second revealed that it was still sturdy. With no key in sight¡­ My free hand revealed its claws. I flicked my wrist some to psyche myself up¡ªbecause hitting metal hurt. If I could carve through a dragon¡¯s toe, maybe I can just sort of¡­punch¡­through iron? I was wincing already. Yeah, yeah, let¡¯s get to it. Using a Slash would put me low on SP, but I still expected a full refresh soon¡ªjust needed that 30 EXP.
HP 48% (315/653)
SP 18% (115/630)
Scritch! My red claws swept across the front of the lock and scored deep. Not deep enough, and the vibration of it hit my nerves the way fingernails scrape a chalkboard, but it was a start. I milked every last second of the Slash to split the lock apart. Then it disintegrated and I kicked the door in. It did not swing. Rust on the hinges must¡¯ve made it shudder halfway inward and stop. As I looked up through the tower, I just barely caught the fairy¡¯s shimmer soaring up, then out of sight¡­probably through a ceiling. Without the fairy, this place was basically pitch black. Night vision¡¯s gotta have some light to throw around, so now I couldn¡¯t see anything. The memory of what little I¡¯d seen, though, told me there were spiral stairs hugging the walls, with signs here and there. I shifted back to cat form and made my way up the stairs¡ªand was shocked when the first sign I passed lit up white behind its words. ¡°The Wonderful World of Grain: Early grain silos did not have the efficient magitech we use today. In the old days, mill wheels and conveyor belts would¡­¡± Down at the base of the, um, silo, a big spotlight turned softly on. Illuminating the wonderful world of grain that had once been here, no doubt. Good for them! I ran the rest of the way, not bothering to read any more. But the top of the stairs stopped far short of the hatch that led to the ceiling that fairy had disappeared to. Plus, I was ninety-percent sure there was a window at the very top, and I wanted a far better view of Cornutopia. From the top of the stairs to that hatch, there was about a two-meter difference. A Leap would clear it, but first I tried a regular old jump. I took off with all I had, stretching my front limbs to the uttermost! And you know, I wasn¡¯t too far off. Maybe a single Taipha-length away from grabbing that rusty handle. I was so un-far off that I bet I could make it if I jumped from the stairway handrail instead. It gave me a smaller and slippy-grippier base, so my takeoff was more awkward, but the height advantage was worth it. I latched onto the handle, my back legs swung, and luckily my body weight pulled the rickety hatch open. In here, thanks to the windows, was a little bit of light. Enough to read the sign that immediately met my face:
WARNING: YOU ARE IN THE CORNUTOPIA GUARD TOWER! Step any further and you will set off our ALARMS AND TRANQUILIZERS. All after-hours delinquents WILL BE PROSECUTED.
Too late for that, as I had stepped fully out of the hatch and begun to stretch before I finished reading. At any rate, this place hadn¡¯t been human-populated for like decades, so I doubted the security was still running. And look, there was that fairy! Around me was a room lined with lockers, and hooks on the walls with what appeared to be corn helmets. They were really all-in with this theme, weren¡¯t they? I also saw some scattered desks, toppled chairs, and loose dusty papers, along with a museum-type pedestal and glass case, plus some telescope or other gadget. Enormous windows surrounded the room, letting in meager nighttime light. This tower wasn¡¯t the tallest thing in the park, but it was pretty darn tall, and I knew I¡¯d be getting an incredible panorama. First, though, there was a mischievous fairy, and I saw¡­her?¡­bobbing next to the glass case. The next moment, I¡¯d caught her eye and we were giving each other the death glare. She hefted her shoulders up and readied her flower like a mace. C¡¯mon, what are you seriously gonna do with that? I thought, before I realized that in Earth movies people say these kinds of lines right before the enemy pulls out a far worse weapon. Letting out a howl that was so tiny that even I had to find it adorable, the fairy zoomed toward me! Okay, maybe I¡¯ll get lucky and you really don¡¯t have anything better. I sharpened my claws on each other and licked my lips. The fairy was soaring ever-closer! I batted the dandelion out of her hands. It was so satisfying. The next moment, it became instantly unsatisfying. The red dandelion split into a million red puffs, all of which dissipated. The light was no more, as if it had never really been. This was infuriating. I was angry. The fairy was angry. I had wanted a glowing red souvenir for the road¡­she had wanted, evidently, to not lose her one and only weapon. But that¡¯s what you get for whacking me on the head earlier and laughing at me! I thought. In fact, I should really be Morphing and squandering SP just so I can laugh in your face! The boiling fury on the fairy¡¯s face, in her balled-up fists and trembling form, turned into¡­tears, and two fingers rubbing at her eyes. I squinted.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Well, in the words of Possy (maybe), this was not my problem! I pranced away, closer to the windows, and was rewarded for my cruelty by some welcome flying boxes.
Level Up!
Lv. 23 ¡ú Lv. 24
EXP: 16% (592/3600)
HP 100% (685/685)
SP 100% (660/660)
ATK 128
INT 75
DEF 89 (+1!)
WIS 84 (+1!)
SPD 107 (+2!)
No new moves yet? Aw, okay, I could wait a little longer. Once again, my Stat gains level for level were feeling pretty monstrous. Or maybe that was just the fact that I¡¯d made a tiny baby fairy cry and was, by some definitions, a monster myself. Instead of worrying about that, I flitted over to the pedestal before some of those panoramic windows. Immediately I knew that this held the ¡°powerful stone¡± the Queen had mentioned. Just as immediately, I knew I wanted to stuff it in my bag and take it home. The closer I got, the more it shimmered. That thing in the glass wasn¡¯t just a rock, it was a bona fide precious gem. Topaz? Amber? Gold diamond?? Something orange. I stretched my front paws up onto the top edge of the pedestal, then strained my back legs to make myself as tall¡ªor long¡ªas I could get. The gem had to be at least as large as the biggest diamond discovered on Earth, yet it was just a random novelty-bauble in the security tower here? Maybe it wasn¡¯t powerful or intriguing at all, then. Still, I wanted it. Hm¡­what was the smartest way to open this thing¡­ I dipped behind the desk, then peeked out around the corner and cast an Attract. The glass came hurtling toward me at an amazing speed. So amazing that as I stood behind the desk¡ªmaking sure that the metal husk was blocking the shortest path from the glass to me¡ªI flinched at the shattering shards and the very deep indentation. It actually bopped me on the jaw! Now I had confirmation (extremely violent confirmation) that the Attraction Spell wouldn¡¯t boomerang around obstacles just to reach its intended goal. If it¡¯d gone wrong, I would¡¯ve defended myself by throwing an Earth Spell in the way. The stone was free! And as I hopped onto the desk, I saw I hadn¡¯t even knocked over the gadgets in front of the pedestal to do it! Wait, what was that stuff? The gemstone was next to what seemed to be a telescope. From this angle, I could see a placard, too. So I carefully made my way through the meadow of glass and came closer¡­
¡°WE ARE THE ETERNAL EYES OF CORNUTOPIA!¡±
Sure you are, I thought as I slinked behind the stone and scope. In cat form, I could just reach the stone and give it a stroke. It felt smooth and cool to the touch¡­ And it immediately flared with a silent light that lasered into the telescope, passed through the great big windows, and cast itself across the entirety of the park. NO! I thought instinctively. Whatever stealth I¡¯d had was blown! In my rush to see the flash on the park, I tipped the pedestal and scope off-balance. Something or something crashed to the floor behind me as I slammed my muzzle to the window. A delicate, even tawny light now covered the entire park. It all felt haunting and stark, with colors only dimly perceptible in the sepia tones. And the light lingered for several seconds, allowing me to put names to what I saw. That thing over there was¡­a bumper car rink with its ceiling torn off, and cars that looked awfully like carts. That might explain the old cart I found outside. Elsewhere were the big ¡°skyscraper¡± rides that once whirled and flung people in pods. In the middle was the place with ¡°lots of quadrupedal mammals¡±: a carousel with a round top that made it kinda look like a hamburger. If ever there was a place for me to train¡ªespecially now at full HP and SP¡ªit would be that. Naturally, that had to be my next destination. Except¡­ I also saw the final place the Queen had marked. Whatever structure it¡¯d once been¡ªa hall of mirrors, a museum exhibit, some restaurant¡ªI couldn¡¯t tell. The building had long since had its own top and innards torn away. What I saw now were flimsy walls, stains, fibers like webbing, and the barest shimmer. It took squinting and focus to see more details. Outside of the doorway, and set deliberately into the ground all the same distance apart, were short black¡­poles? They moved like breeze-rattled ferns. I looked closer. They were long black feathers. Standing just beyond that fence of feathers was a hazy figure with a tail and wings. Either this figure didn¡¯t notice the light of the ¡°powerful stone¡± or they were ignoring it. As the light sizzled away, the dragon-person watched the doorway. And I didn¡¯t believe it was just the fog shifting¡ªI swore they were shivering. My vision ended, and the light left the park. Then animal chatter rose up everywhere, especially from the carousel, so clearly someone had noticed. It¡¯d probably disturbed their sleep, as a matter of fact. And made them hideously angry at whoever¡¯d done it. It was only barely audible through the windows, but diverse enough to tell me there were tons of different quadrupedal mammals around here: weasels, foxes, raccoons¡­raccoons¡­ I had to roll my eyes. It made sense, in a way, that this would be the thing to take my focus away from both the search for cantrip ingredients and the revelation that Murder the condor was probably conducting a real-time investigation of a murder enacted by the Sapphire Queen. Um¡­speaking of. Five Travel is so much faster on the wing, and combat is so much easier with numbers, that I am always surprised that my Maker has given me another form. Whatever purpose is not mine to question. I have burned off frustration by searching for the Treasures. And it seems to me that there are even more things worthy of gathering beyond my Maker¡¯s acknowledgement. The Blade has opened the door to an endless wellspring. Revealing the whole Map, I have sighted new targets. Clearly I have been approaching the command of my Maker wrong. I cannot expect just any Vencian to make for a proper rival just as I cannot expect to stay sane as I handle the Blade. The rest of the command, I still do not know how to follow. I will focus on what makes sense, and be more watchful. So will the krigries, who have agreed to bring back news of the unusual and unusually powerful, should they ever see it. 105: Pave with Gold and All Will be HIdden
Cornutopia Topaz #3
One of three enchanting shiny rocks originally housed in three beacon towers across the Cornutopia amusement park. Two of those towers have collapsed, but the gemstones live on in the private collections of looters. They enhance light beams shone through them, making them brighter and vaguely magical, fostering plant growth.
I thought back on the big gem I¡¯d just shamelessly looted with surprising disinterest. Surely someone back at the cabin would love it, but to me, it was a little ho-hum. Then again, maybe that wasn¡¯t apathy talking, but the fact that an irritating little fairy was kicking around on my back as I stepped out of the lighthouse. My eyes were practically glued to the upper-right corners of my skull-brows. Just a minute ago, she would not stop crying, and it was super uncanny to see an adult-looking-yet-small creature sobbing with the voice of a fieldmouse. And she was squirming around like a strangled worm! Didn¡¯t she find it kind of embarrassing? Well, given how gleeful she was now, cheering and thumping her fists and ankles on my back as if that would get me to speed up¡­fairies couldn¡¯t be embarrassed by anything. I was half a second away from bucking and throwing her off my back. Then half a second passed, and another half a second¡­ I am so soft, I realized, not without wonder. On the outside, I slowed my pace and kept to the dark, making my way towards the crime scene and the carousel. On the inside, I pondered. Maybe this was another good change¡­maybe it was something I¡¯d gotten from Reed. She had threatened me on our first meeting, but after that, it had all been unconditional¡­hugs. The fairy kicked out, and her ankle hit my shoulder blade wrong. I decided, I will not hug her. Y¡¯know, this fairy was slightly incompatible with the idea of stealth. Even if throwing her off my back was out¡ªfor mushy sentimental reasons¡ªI could still scrape her off on something. Okay, no I couldn¡¯t. But¡­ There was a playground area, with steeds on springs. Sure, what had once been a sandbox was now absolutely disgusting by any human standard, but---but the steeds were here! Instead of scraping her off on a proper saddle, I brought myself so close that she could not possibly miss my meaning. Infuriatingly, the fairy only gripped me harder. I gave her a low growl. Lest she forget I beat her up earlier. At that, she crawled like a bug onto the saddle. Then she began to rock the toy cow. Even with what little Strength she had unarmed, the cow quivered ever so slightly forward and backward. Then I clambered onto a springy ox and did the same, only so vigorously that in two rocks the spring screeched in half and I fell to the ground. This time I ascribed my failure to being too talented. ***
Current Location: Festive Field (S.F3) Sub-Location: Cornutopia Sub-Sub-Location: Murder Scene
While there was nothing new to see once I got closer to that suspicious, blood-flecked ruin, just standing there felt uncanny. A combination of the story, the shimmer traces, the blood and webbing, and any lingering powers Murder might have left on it made no part of me want to stay here long. I peeked past the long, stiff feathers fencing off the portal. Then I moved a paw forward between the feathers¡ªand felt pressure. The air there distorted and darkened. Ah, I could guess this was a barrier. That made me feel a little more at ease. Some authority figure, creepy as he was, had to be working on this. I turned away and my thoughts were an arrow, streaking towards the carousel, my goals. Out of my burlap sack came a sword. I paused. Grabbing and un-grabbing this sword until the Stats it gave me were up to par was still my killer strategy. It¡¯d never really worked¡­but it was about to. It would destroy all semblance of stealth, which stung¡ªbut what was stealth in the face of an absolute steamroller? Besides, running around like a horsey with a glowing rider, not to mention flashing the whole park, had damaged that enough. No more waiting and no more hiding. Time to get in some actual practice reps with the golden blade. First I used a Meditate¡­then another. I knew it was just procrastination, but at least it was productive procrastination. Not for the Stat gains that might instantly be nullified. For the calm it gave my mind, and the way it evened out my breathing. A tension left my back, one I hadn¡¯t even known had lingered there. (Darn fairy.) Then I Morphed, and sat crisscrossed on the unhallowed ground. I centered my intentions in my mind: to grab on and let go really really fast until I saw the big numbers in the right places. It was going to hurt, but it was going to hurt the raccoons more. On the inbreath, I grabbed it.
WIS -1176 (+100%) (x-7)
LET GO LET GO LET GO!
WIS 168 (+100%)
GRAB IT GRAB IT GRAB IT!
WIS 336 (+100%) (x2)
LET GO LET¡ªSHOOT, WAIT, DON¡¯T LET IT GO, THAT WAS FINE!
WIS 168 (+100%)
Ugh, okay, GRAB IT AGAIN!
WIS -840 (+100%) (x-5)
My head is swimming¡ªu-uh, I mean, LET IT GO!
WIS 168 (+100%)
The cycle continued for longer than I¡¯d meant for it to. Either I missed my own ¡°let go¡± cue or I forgot to note how workably high my Stats were. Sometimes the Blade was dangerous not because of the wonky Stat loss, but because I wanted to hold it forever and ever, brain damage or no brain damage. A drug I would need to stop a monster several orders more powerful than me. There came a moment when I just knew I should hold the blade. I don¡¯t think it had jacked my Stats as high as they¡¯d gone just seconds earlier, but I had to stay on the ride this time.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
HP 99% (680/685)
SP 15% (583/3960)
ATK 512 (+x4)
INT 0 (x0)
DEF 89
WIS 504 (+100%) (x3)
SPD 107
Feeling like a co-pilot in my own mind, I found myself¡­smiling. Now I was acting on a mix of intuition and raw emotion. Things suppressed, things that had been weaker in me, now bubbled up to the fore. I had hated losing the tree I had called my own. I had hated it, and to have forgotten that pain and felt that it was minor now seemed like a cruel injustice, self-inflicted though it was. The blade felt right in my hand, and would sing with blood! Anger resolved itself into a kind of chipperness, satisfied that it would get me what I really wanted. I actually hop-skipped away. This sent me blundering into more than one tree, but I kept on because I must¡¯ve decided that practice makes perfect¡ªeventually. I should¡¯ve guessed that almost every willow close to that carousel would be hiding rascally raccoons. Either they were serving as dedicated nighttime guards or annoyed that I¡¯d woken them up. They could be annoyed while they howled from the pain of a slice to the bone! With mere whips of my blade as I skipped past, any tree with the faintest whisper of a raccoon was slashed. In my path rained branches, squeals, and a few louder whumps.
EXP: 76% (2725/3600)
Before I knew it, I was standing in the valley before the carousel. The rusted yet majestic machine of yesterday was¡ª Oh, no time to take it in? Okay. My body was too busy rampaging ahead, slashing one-handed and yet with a power I could not conceive. As soon as my sandals hit that valley, half the raccoons swarming that carousel¡ªhalf the shadow-lumps resting on the roof, on the unmoving cattle, in the grooves¡ªhad lunged to get me. Not that they would! A cluster of raccoons latched onto my body. They were heavy, but my legs were stronger, anchoring me. I would never fall. Nor would I ever pay attention to my HP as the raccoons began immediately to glow and bite. And I wouldn¡¯t balk at the worst of the wounds in my side. A whipping motion with my head and my blade killed many and scattered more.
Level Up!
Lv. 24 ¡ú Lv. 25
My damage was instantly nullified. Why had any part of me even worried? A heel stomped a muzzle, kicking through the teeth even without the gold blade.
Level Up!
Lv. 25 ¡ú Lv. 26
New Skill!
I stopped for nothing and no one. In the middle of the rocking tides (rocked, of course, by my churning blade and ever-spinning body) was a raccoon with a furious glow, maybe a boss raccoon, surrounded by an aura of deep, unmixed red and blue. If this gave me fear, it was drowned out and overwhelmed. Sheer thrill was the part that mattered. It fed on my anger and the bones of the beaten and dead. Poke! I thought as I backhanded the blade softly into the raccoon¡¯s gut. It broke the skin even through what had to be an advanced Guard. Poke!! I thought a moment later. Undeterred by the fact that this hadn¡¯t been another one-shot kill, I simply performed the same move again. This one hit the vitals! The raccoon screamed and rolled over, revealing its belly. How nice of them to surrender! I continued stabbing the weak point until I got the tingles of a Level Up. Then I stabbed more. This wasn¡¯t the last of the raccoons, but it seemed to be the last of them that mattered. After the big red-blue one fell, whatever raccoons weren¡¯t too weak to stand had started backing off. The scarediest ones had even run off! All around, I smelled the urine and hormones of defeat. This made me happier. I could always be more happy, though. So I charged at the raccoons still haunting the carousel, never afraid to use a Leap to catch one darting off, more than willing to use a single strong arm to hoist myself up to the roof. This game of hide-and-seek wasn¡¯t as adrenaline-pumping, but it did give me some jolts now and then to keep me moving.
Level Up!
Lv. 28 ¡ú Lv. 29
Sierra¡¯s Tip: If you ¡°go Beast Mode¡± like this, you¡¯re basically shirking all the Stat bonuses that comes from real, dedicated training. That deficit makes a difference, so you might be sorry once you wake up with that hangover.
Whuh? I thought, hazily, as I shattered a porcelain lizard with a misplaced kick.
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
Wow, I didn¡¯t even realize how hilarious this would be! Hi, Taipha! Don¡¯t you have any burning questions for me?
Can¡¯t see, I thought. It was a bare statement, not even meant for her.
Well, you¡¯re doing great out there. Or are you? Man, that¡¯s the fun of life. You never really know until you know.
Can¡¯t see, I thought, misplacing another kick. At least the head of the medusa-slug had crushed a raccoon, so in that way it was a success. Heh heh.
Wait, did you just say ¡°huh huh¡±?
In another blank statement, I thought, No no.
Well, a ¡°carousel¡± is an amusement device created by humans that transcends universes. Here, I¡¯ll provide you with more information:
My vision was flooded with carousel information: photos, technical drawings, the different paint schemes of the roofs of iconic carousels from across at least three galaxies. Ordinarily, I would¡¯ve thought something like an infuriated NO NO! Instead, I only thought whuh whuh? and wondered at my sudden lack of relevant vision. I crashed again into part of the carousel, but this time it was my aching head. Which ached all the harder, but now that I was knocked out, at least I wouldn¡¯t be awake to feel it. Yet. 106: Fleck of Crimson When I came to, I was lying in an awkward zigzag sort of shape on the planks of a worn-out amusement park ride. Incredible pulsing aches echoed from not only my head, but all my joints. Some things can¡¯t be fixed with a Level Up heal, apparently. The night was silent. With a groan, I turned my head. I¡¯d noticed that my hands were empty, and I seriously doubted that as I got the concussion clearly drumming in my brain, I¡¯d had presence of mind to put it away. Gold¡­get¡­ My human hand reached for the twinkle of blood-spattered gold that had to be the blade. It wasn¡¯t far away, but right now, anything felt far, including for my System. Inventory¡­gold¡­get¡­ This isn¡¯t working, I realized dully. System¡­please¡­just¡­gold........get? What was the command again? I racked my brain, got nothing. System¡­help¡­gold, um, gold blade¡­get?
Gold Vault unlocked.
Gold: 7251
What would you like to do with your gold?
Add to Inventory Invest through August Augur Mutual Exchange for SierraBux Donate to Earth charities
No! I thought, flailing and writhing. What is this crap?! I just want the blade, the thing that¡¯s right there! And I began crawling towards the thing, driven less by need and more by pure spite against the unhelpful System. I¡­urgh¡­I want that in my Inventory, not random gold!
Gold of quantity Random has been added to your Inventory. Error: Insufficient space in Inventory.
THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF WHAT I WANTED!
If you are not satisfied with your banking experience, please reach out to August Augur Mutual.
Is that a real bank, or¡­ I couldn¡¯t even muster up the mental energy to ask the whole question. Whatever. Didn¡¯t matter, I was close to the blade again. Ejecting the first thing my mind could think to get rid of¡ªa Nature Spell¡ªI then tried to remember the blade¡¯s actual name. It¡¯s the Debug Blade. Um........is that a pun? Man, I hope not. The blade landed safely in my Inventory. And I may have been in serious pain, but I was safe too. All raccoons either had fled or were lying around the carousel on their backs and sides. Destroyed by a total rampage. The Debug Blade scared me, and I did not like it. I had to have liked it once¡ªwas hoping it¡¯d be a cool and friendly uber-powerful item to whip out when needed or convenient, then forget, and not feel as if the mere act of carrying it dismembered me. But every time I took one step forward with the thing, I took another two backward. I un-Morphed and took another half-hour just to lie there and rest. Then another. Then two more. I Meditated when it occurred to me to do so, but that didn¡¯t give me any inner peace¡ªand the lack of it actually made me more frustrated and achey. Somewhere in there, I took a Catnap, but it was briefer than usual, maybe because there was nothing to heal. Well, ¡°nothing.¡± I¡¯d have to get moving sometime. The longer I waited here, my body rolled up like a chrysalis, the more uncomfortably comfortable I became. Like time, and others, lost their meaning. Another hour passed, and another. *** Possy was gnawing on a wooden werewolf mask. They looked pretty relaxed down there, in the storeroom below the rotten hatch at the carousel¡¯s center. Around them were other old toys and novelties from whenever this park was still active. From the final day, I guessed, and then scavenged and pooled together by intrepid animals. The raccoons¡¯ treasure, dubious as it was. I could see myself on another day getting jazzed about everything here. Rubble hadn¡¯t fully tarnished the red and blue paint of devil, fae, and feline masks. Toy carts and wheelbarrows still rolled. Possy also seemed to like a toy duck sitting under their forefeet. It was nothing but a head, chest, and foot, but the friendly gleam in its eye wanted me to remember easier days. A hand reached down and touched Possy, tentatively, on the back. Possy froze. They were not an animal trained to be touched, no matter how gently, or whether they knew who was touching them or not. There wasn¡¯t a guarantee that, with this form, they knew me. Or would want to, given all the raccoon blood still on me and the traces¡ªstill detectable as scent¡ªof raging adrenaline. Possy didn¡¯t move. Not retreating nor attacking. Their back was ragged, torn, and riddled with fleabites. I stroked it in full, my hand gliding to their tail, as I kneeled beside them. Possy relaxed, seemingly untroubled. They continued gnawing on the edges of masks, and I kept wondering what it was about soft things and soft creatures that could soothe a domesticated thing like me. *** When morning came, I felt as fresh as could be expected. Luckily, I felt better¡ªmeaning this was an ongoing recovery process. But I didn¡¯t feel much better. It was manageable, though, especially given how motivating my current goal was. No, that goal wasn¡¯t finding cantrip ingredients. That, too, had been a wash. In fact, it was almost bizarre how few vines I¡¯d seen despite following Bayce¡¯s instructions. In the end, though¡­ I just wanted to go home. The cabin was waiting for me. I wasn¡¯t foolish enough to believe it¡¯d be an oasis of calm forever, or even for long, given all the shenanigans happening lately, but I could, y¡¯know¡­hang out there with people I really really liked, and their presence alone, it turned out, made a difference. Even Possy had made a difference, and Possy made no move to follow me once I finally crawled out of that hatch. Possy obeyed nothing and no one. They followed no flag. I knew without even consciously thinking it that I would never own a pet, but I appreciated the possum for being, however briefly, a sort of¡­comfort animal. I hoped they¡¯d had as much fun wrestling me as I had them, and wished them silent luck as the sun rose.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Then I pulled myself out of the carousel and sprinted in a beeline back toward the cabin.
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 50% (15/30)
Current Location: Festive Field (S.F4)
A gentle drizzle had rained across the flat plain. I almost felt annoyed for not having seen and felt it¡ªthen I remembered, oh yeah I¡¯d been under a big huge carousel roof, and oh yeah I was also in a disturbing amount of pain at the time. Foxes who ordinarily would¡¯ve been easy, enticing targets were simply sped by. A hawk who picked me for a sparring partner-slash-breakfast dove for me, and I Leaped away, happy to have at least left them in the dust.
Current Location: ??? (S.E4)
It was still dawn when I crossed into the northern portion of some unknown territory. The twinkle of a brook invited me to take a break and actually eat something¡ªcome to think of it, I was starving. I still had some fragments of raw gackern, and I did want the pit dragon¡¯s toenail to be relatively clean before I handed it off to Bayce, so I ate on both of these, and sipped at waters that were amazingly clear. ¡­I¡¯d Leveled Up a lot last night. It felt silly to be having this revelation now. Yet so much else had been clouding my mind (mostly regret and the thought of ¡°ow¡±). But it was true! Put away all that regret and nausea over the deaths of what felt today like thousands of innocents and what did I get? Levels! Yeah, sword training with a sword I had begun to actively dislike, but also, Levels! Raw strength in numerical form. And gaining power was the whole idea. This outing had been a success.
Stats
Taipha Calico Ranger
Lv. 29 EXP: 18% (801/4350)
HP 100% (828/828)
SP 46% (367/795)
ATK 153
INT 89
DEF 108
WIS 101
SPD 127
The jump was so big it was bizarre. Five Levels. Hadn¡¯t I gained at least 10 Stat points across everything? Even in my dinkier Stats, like Intelligence? It felt like so much for almost no effort. Well, no effort on my mind¡¯s part, but a lot of it on my body¡¯s. Oh yeah, and there was a new Skill in the mix too:
Amber Beam Fires a small, focused laser. Cost: 58
What was with my Intelligence-based combat Skills being uncannily similar to stuff I saw right before I got them? Was I¡­absorbing the stuff around me, for the System to shuffle up? If I theoretically fought an apocalypse being, what the heck then? Worse¡­did that mean that if I¡¯d chosen to become a Black Witch, my INT Skills would¡¯ve been stuff like Fire Barrier and whatever but my ATK Skills would¡¯ve been abstract cool stuff like Laser Claw? Well, I could always discuss it with the people at the house¡­assuming they even knew about it. Only Chora seemed to have that kind of Skill knowledge because it didn¡¯t come naturally to humans. Uh, put ¡°naturally¡± in huge scare quotes. Anyway, Amber Beam was now my lowest-cost attack. Compared even to Air Cutter¡¯s 87, the SP price made it a steal. Plus, it had ¡°laser¡± in the description. It was probably an awesome attack. Except that the low cost¡­probably meant it wasn¡¯t all that powerful. Or that it¡¯d only be active for about half a second. Turning away from the water, I laid eyes on a nice patch of grass. Then I activated Amber Beam and¡­had no idea what it was doing. An amber iris was floating over my shoulder. I flinched away¡ªthe eye followed. Once I realized that this was the Skill, it was sucked away into itself, and then it was gone.
SP 39% (309/795)
Well, that was 58 SP lost. I tried to take my mind off the failure¡ªand I guess off of everything else¡ªand end my stay at the brook by trying on that hairpin I¡¯d found. It tumbled out of the bag with a shimmer. Though its description had strongly mentioned gold, that gold was really more of a filigree, shining along and within the crystal made to resemble snow. The holly-branch hairpin shone with emerald in its delicate leaves, and berries that looked painted at first really had a maraschino-cherry fire brewing within them. I tried it on. I was a cat, so it felt heavy and clunky and didn¡¯t have much hair to clamp onto anyway, so it weighed me down, and it sagged. Then I Morphed, and my kneeling form looked in the waters. One hand changed the position, patted it softly into place. It was¡­ A little much. Setting aside the fact that I¡¯d need to Morph just to make it comfortable¡­a thing around my neck and a thing on my head? Yeah, I definitely wanted to give this away to a housemate. The colors screamed Reed to me, but then again, the fake snow reminded me of Bayce. Wait¡­why would snow make me think of Bayce? Was it something about that poem that one time? Her blue hair that swirled like a frosty frozen treat?? In any case, I put the hairpin away, un-Morphed, and sped off. I¡¯d recovered enough. The Rabbitfoot Plains were here one minute, gone the next. A field I¡¯d once been cautious of speeding through¡ªwith all its burrows and muted hisses¡ªwas now easy to bound across. If I did hit a burrow, I had no fear of the snapping teeth I might disturb. You can set off a bear trap without falling in. Then I saw the fringe of trees, rushing forward, uninhibited. But something pushed through the trees: a rectangle of familiar blue¡­ And after a pause, she came running. At first, this sent me into a playful gallop. I¡¯d never raced with Bayce before. In fact, I wasn¡¯t sure she could jog until this moment. Even now, she ran as if her elbows were bolted to her sides, a valley-girl shopper on the track. But the closer I came, the more I saw her face. There was nothing playful about it. I wasn¡¯t escaping to fun and comfort that easily. She fell to a kneel, and I thundered to a stop. Her arms twitched apart, as if considering whether to give me a reassuring hug, but I knew that hug would be more for her than for me. Bayce was panting hard. ¡°Kidnapped,¡± she said. 107. Ponds are Panes of Moonlight Almost immediately, Bayce emptied an Inventory-bracelet of Spells, letting the paper-wrapped bundles simply fall on the grass. The telltale charcoal of Fire, the minty sprigs of Ice¡­I hadn¡¯t memorized them all, but I gathered these were all elemental. ¡°Reload,¡± she said, still out of breath. ¡°We need¡­to find her¡­no idea¡­¡± I silently collected Fire, Ice, and Electricity Spells, plus a single Minor Heal. It took ejecting both the still-unused Low Gravity Spells and the eight gold pieces. The latter was a minor enough loss that I wasn¡¯t going to bug Bayce to snatch it up. Not when she was still fighting to get words out.
Inventory: 10/10
Fire Spell x4 Debug Blade Minor Heal x6 Book of Sister¡¯s Shadow Burlap Sack High Gravity Spell x1 Ice Spell x4 Lightning Spell x2 Earth Spell x3 Attraction Spell x3
As I was collecting this, Bayce also thunked down a bundle of¡­flour that smelled mildly fruity. ¡°You can eat this if¡­you need¡­¡± I, uh, had no idea what that was, so I briefly made Inventory space, added the flour, and checked its identity.
Plimpberry Pancake Flour
The raw, plimpberry-puckered material that goes into those darling flapjacks. Nourishing. Heals a small amount of SP.
Man, she was really looking out for me! I tipped the bag over my wide-open mouth fully expecting it to be disgusting. What I didn¡¯t expect was to nearly choke and for it to be that disgusting. No sooner had I done that than a blob of water hurtled into my mouth, with such speed that I knew Bayce had launched a Water Spell. Eighty percent of it splashed right past. I braced myself, stayed standing and managed to chomp the vile mixture down, but only thanks to all the Levels I¡¯d gotten. That would¡¯ve knocked down veterans.
HP 100% (826/828)
SP 47% (373/795)
¡°Small¡± was right. This was, what, 5, 7 percentage points? Plus, being blasted by water had taken out two HP. Not that I honestly cared about that¡ªit wasn¡¯t reflected in the 100 percent reading for a reason. I did care more about my stomach screaming and rebelling, but that could be dealt with later, I hoped. Nonetheless, every point counted. Rather, every point might count, depending on whatever the heck Bayce was in the process of saying. She gathered up the flour and all the things I¡¯d dropped, then started power-walking westward into the trees. I followed. ¡°All Reed did was go outside, to see the weather,¡± she said, ¡°and then when I left to look, she was gone. Like, into thin air. Then I got up to the door and I saw those same shimmers! That person who fought you is still messing with us. Reed could be quite literally anywhere.¡± Ack, the wave of nausea was interacting with the wave of guilt. I had to push past it. ¡°Meow?¡± ¡°Meow what?¡± I wished the Spirit Board had a mobile attachment. ¡°Meow meow?¡± Bayce shook her head. ¡°We have to stop for a bit.¡± We did, and I stiffly traced two sides of a very skewed triangle. She snapped her fingers. ¡°Ah¡ªChora,¡± she said, with such correctness and conviction that I was impressed. We walked on as she added, ¡°Yes, but no. She went to town. Might still be there. Might not be.¡± Bayce took a weary wheezing breath. ¡°I really hope so.¡± We could use the help, I was thinking. Although mainly I was thinking about how we had no idea where to actually start. Clearly Bayce was leading me toward the cabin. What good would that do? She just gave me emergency resources, what else was there for us? Was she leading us towards the shimmers? What were they, a teleporter? Obviously not¡ªthey¡¯d never worked that way when we touched them before. No. Bayce had no idea where to go. I stopped. Bayce went on for a few footsteps before she finally noticed, and turned with mouth hanging open. The Burlap Sack hit the dirt, and I dug out the Spirit Board. ¡°WHERE R WE GOING,¡± I said, dramatically leaving off the question mark. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she said flatly. That was all I needed. ¡°POND,¡± I said. It was a lead. It gave us some direction. If time was of the essence, then Bayce could really benefit from my speed¡­ I Morphed, then almost backed into her and crouched.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°W-wait, what¡¯s your plan here? You¡¯re¡ª¡± I heard a muted sigh. ¡°This is so weird. I do like where your head is at, though.¡± Strangely enough, hefting a person several centimeters taller than you onto your back can make you quite clumsy! And I didn¡¯t envy Bayce for having to hunch forward just to get her arms scarf-wrapped around my neck. But she had enough courage not to let that scarf devolve into a death strangle. Though I almost overbalanced when she first got her bearings, soon I secured her shins with my firm, hopefully reassuring grip. Then I went running! ¡°So this is Bayce¡¯s carriage throughout the Vencian Woo¡ªoufpht!¡± Bayce said as a branch no doubt smacked her in the mouth. ¡°Myaow!¡± I said by way of ¡°sorry.¡± I felt her turtling up as much as possible after that, her head sorta nestled in the crook of my neck. The weight of Bayce did slow me down slightly, and I was probably coming out of this with an hourglass-shaped bruise on my back, but it was more than counterbalanced by my sky-high Stats, and I was more than happy to speed this all along¡ªto Mirror Pond. We reached the pond¡¯s boundary. I set Bayce down right when I hit the water¡¯s edge, darted up to the edge of the grass jetty where she had once gone fishing with me, and un-Morphed, conserving what I could. As she teetered aside, I kneeled by the water and simply closed my eyes. I was hearing the wildlife of the pond. It was seemingly a day like any other. But I bet there was more to it, more based on intuition and the fact that the Sapphire Queen had been here at all than on rational fact. It was better than nothing. I turned to Bayce, Morphed into nekomata form, and dug out the Spirit Board. ¡°RIP SWORD FROM ME IF I START SMILING!¡± Bayce¡¯s already-disoriented face went blank. ¡°Um¡­yes. Yes, I¡¯ll do that, I trust you.¡± She pushed past it, kneeled next to me, looked determined again. Given how much laughing ecstasy I¡¯d been in once I had the Debug Blade up and running in Cornutopia, I assumed it would be obvious to her once I¡¯d reached that tipping point. All I wanted right now was a burst of Wisdom, something beyond what a few pumps of Meditate could give me. The Debug Blade came out, and using both paws, I theoretically mashed that grabby A button.
WIS 505 (x5)
WIS -303 (x-3)
WIS 707 (x7)
There it is! Despite the painful pulse in the back of my mind, having Wisdom pushed this high seemingly allowed me to find a place of singular, uttermost focus. And calm. Calm I would need to analyze this situation¡­ This was not ordinary water, and maybe it never was. I opened my eyes to see. The twinkling sunlight across the water looked natural, and the water across your skin felt natural, and animals lived and swam in it every day believing it to be so. But it was really polluted. Polluted not even with a substance, but with something¡­beyond substance. Like a supernatural substance? Well, no. I wouldn¡¯t have said there was anything remotely spiritual about this. Those very tiny particles bobbing with the waters, they kind of looked like ordinary grit, and were gone before you knew it. But get real close¡ªor just real focused¡ªand you¡¯d realize that they refracted the light in a spectrum of silver. And stranger, no particle was round or rounded off. Like computer chips, they were square, they had corners. They were square and flat¡ªor maybe not flat, because when they tilted horizontally, they seemed to disappear. Beyond flat. Truly two-dimensional. Whatever they were, I felt certain that the pond was thick with them. It must have been those, those¡­pixels that shimmered on a certain dark night, that shone so beautifully. I leaned closer to the water, realizing that if I stirred it enough, maybe the pixels would dance around for me like tortured fish. Hey, I liked fish! What was I doing at a pond not eating fish and tormenting ducks, for goodness¡¯ sake? I could be¡ª I nearly plunged face-first into the water. The sword had been tugged away from me. Bayce coughed. ¡°Sorry, but you said.¡± I transformed back, agreeing fully. ¡°Meow,¡± I said to thank her. All the stuff I¡¯d thought about in the past two, maybe three seconds was about to fade from me like a dream. My mind scurried to tamp them all down, as if grabbing freed balloons. I couldn¡¯t help but feel disappointed. These discoveries had felt like a revelation at the time I¡¯d had them, but¡­just comparing the Queen¡¯s abilities to, like, computer pixels wasn¡¯t helping me at all. In fact, I could hardly believe that was the best Past Me had! Without clearly knowing what I meant, I jabbed a paw down toward the pond. ¡°Down there?¡± Bayce said. ¡°Like what¡¯s down there? There¡¯s the Geographic Carp, of course, kind of like a guardian of fishes and the whole underwater place, and um, that should be it.¡± Suddenly, a spark shone in her eyes. With a jingling rattle of her tons of bracelets, her frenzied hands searched around¡ªand her own Inventory, or maybe one of several, revealed something like a classic bicycle horn. Without another word, she honked it. Whatever feat of dexterity it took to make it not make that classic ¡°honk¡± sound, though, she made it, and a slow but beltingly loud wheeze filled the area. The nearest ducks scattered. I even saw the closest fish holding still, then flitting into the depths. But nothing else happened. Several seconds passed. Bayce sighed heavily. The horn disappeared. ¡°Okay, I guess they¡¯re not in there. That¡¯s definitely not a big deal.¡± Okay, then my mind was made up. Again I jabbed my paw toward the water¡ªonly I pointed to the both of us too. She pinched her brow. ¡°Lord! Lord of lords.¡± There was an almost playful lilt in her words, like she didn¡¯t wanna feel all the awfulness of this whole mess and this was how to stave it off. ¡°Okay, we¡¯ll go in if you¡¯re sure. But I¡¯m warning you! Nobody¡¯s perfected gills and I don¡¯t have a single air-bubble-making Spell! We¡¯re just gonna have to turn on High Gravity and sink like rocks.¡± Fine with me. And as long as Bayce had the Low Gravity Spells on her too, we had our emergency out. After my stiff nod, she handed back the Blade, and I gathered everything into my sack and Inventory. I gestured toward me, then her¡ªspecifically her arms. ¡°Oh!¡± she said. ¡°Hold you. Yeah, that¡¯d be efficient. Let me cast the High Grav so we can get as heavy as possible with a single cast.¡± ¡­Honestly, I¡¯d suggested she hold me because she might find it kinda comforting, but yeah, that worked too! Bayce gathered me in her arms, took perhaps the deepest breath of her life¡­then released it and took another, and tried again. And then she took the deepest breath for real¡­right before letting it go again. Then she tried again¡ª Nope! No, this was getting ridiculous. But really, the ridiculous one was me. Who was I to put Bayce in this kind of danger? Hadn¡¯t I just been determined to keep my friends safe and their lives as untroubled as possible, not surprise-drown them?! I began squirming out of her arms, but Bayce squeezed me tighter. ¡°Taipha,¡± she said with the tone of a warning. ¡°I¡¯ve put my foot down. I¡¯m going with you, and I¡¯m going because I want to.¡± Before I could protest, she took her realest-real deepest breath, cast the Spell, and swan-dived in. Together we knifed through the water. 108. Stone Dream Bayce and I flitted like one single, unified arrow down through the murky waters. She managed to turn her body in the water so that we could both face the center of the pond. Not that that was helping at the moment. In this darkness, my vision was hardly any better than hers. I didn¡¯t know exactly when we would find the pond floor, but we wouldn¡¯t be touching bottom so much as cratering it. We needed some way to stop short before we crashed, and to do that, I needed more light. Amber Beam, don¡¯t let us down. I activated my latest Skill. If only it weren¡¯t a laser¡ªthen I could just keep it hanging around us for a while like a portable, hands-free lan¡­ Wait, I didn¡¯t have to launch it and it was exactly that? Yes, the so-called beam was just diving downward with us, hanging steady over my shoulder. And with it, I began to see. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was something. I saw fish swimming about as normal, my sharp eyes catching the meager light reflecting off their scales. Beyond about a school¡¯s worth, they were little more than shadows. And beyond even that, near the fast-approaching ground, I saw something more massive, and the dim splotches of its hide. The Geographic Carp is down here¡­but they didn¡¯t respond. Maybe the fish was obstinate, or just plain tired, but a better explanation was that thanks to someone¡¯s interference, the Carp simply hadn¡¯t heard. I came up with that explanation one second later, when the entire pond-world flickered into TV static and we were suddenly falling through the thin air of a cavern. My mind could hardly process, except¡ª Air! Heavy! FLOOR! Thinking only of instant self-preservation, I was about to curl up into a Guard when Bayce saved us both. ¡°Lowgravlowgrav,¡± she cried like a single mantra, and we fell through the clouds of twin Spells¡ªthen we were plummeting so slowly that Bayce had the time and power to put us right-side up just before landing softly on her toes. She set me down on cold stone. I stared up at her in wonder, at both her dazzling Spells and her own instinct. Even though she spent a lot of time indoors, and didn¡¯t have any knack for interacting with wild creatures beyond fondling¡­Bayce had a quick mind and was far from defenseless. Of course, right after that, and with a lot of help from the Amber Beam ball still with me, I stared around us at the room we¡¯d fallen into. Up at the perfectly intact ceiling¡ªno way we¡¯d broken through that. And then at the walls all crowded with old junk. But this wasn¡¯t the basement of the lycanborn mansion. There was nothing fancy about it. The walls were blandest of bland stone. One archway led out to pitch-blackness. I could start feeling around to learn more, but I was a little afraid to. Bayce, too, was hesitant. The first thing she did, after pursing her lips, was summon a tool from her Inventory (or maybe it was Inventories plural, given all the bangles). It was a very long, off-white wand. Or maybe it was a candle¡ªor both¡ªsince she then murmured ¡°fire¡± and the end of it flared alight. Now a bead of fire as steady as my Beam helped illuminate the room. Only as much as an ordinary torch, maybe less. ¡°I¡¯m not touching anything,¡± she said, but her face spoke more of suspicion than fear. ¡°It¡¯s a trap, right? She used magic to reroute us and toss us in¡­some sort of a crypt.¡±Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Even quiet words echoed. I was starting to feel miserable. Even beyond the whole terrible reason we¡¯d come here, the damp of the pond was still all over us. My static Beam, though it pulsed faintly, wasn¡¯t letting off any warmth, and Bayce¡¯s even-smaller fire barely did better. This was not helped at all by the clammy air here. In fact, it was so clammy and ice-cold that I could almost swear we were underground¡­ And that this whole place hadn¡¯t been touched in centuries? I checked my Map. It threw back nothing but question marks.
Error: Location not found.
A lump rose in my throat. This whole place was outside of my System¡¯s ken. It was beyond the Wood¡ªno, worse than that, because the village of Outlast was slightly out of bounds and being there never gave my Map trouble. This had to be a corrupting place. In a worst-case scenario, it had wiped out every place I¡¯d been. I checked my Quest the way you¡¯d scratch a burning itch. It still told me I¡¯d discovered 53 percent of the Map, so at least there was that. Not that it made me feel any better¡­and nor did putting a tracker on Bayce. What good was that if I couldn¡¯t even see the tracker, let alone anything else? I walked as close as I dared to the stuff along the walls. Broken tables, broken chairs, broken¡­chains? Twisted iron bars and rusted handcuffs? Bayce had gone the other way, studying the barest scraps of paper clinging to life on a wall, their words long faded. She shook her head violently (incidentally sprinkling drips everywhere) and simply marched through the archway. It was hard to pick between careful deduction and urgency here¡ªthe task of saving Reed deserved both¡ªbut at this point, no plan really did seem like the best plan. Except Bayce disappeared instantly. Just the way I imagined it happened to Reed: she was there and then she was instantaneously gone. Which gave me a very good reason not to speed ahead. As scary as this was, we did now have enough leads that it wasn¡¯t all-out existential guilt I was feeling. Bayce wasn¡¯t dead, she was, um, disappeared? She had to be. So, level-headed as I could be, I came closer to the arch and peered through. It wasn¡¯t absolute dark out there. Actually, it kind of looked like the first rows of a jail¡­but with no signs of life. Looking up and down along the walls and floor of the arch, I found no trace of glitchy shimmers, and yet I felt they had to be somewhere. After all, in low light, they were hard to see. ¡ªWait! I was overthinking it! Ignoring the simplest way out! Bayce was probably waiting on the other side of that passage. After some initial fright, she¡¯d likely just expect me to hop in and follow. So I hopped in. Just like before when we¡¯d been falling underwater, the world luminously broke. After a millisecond, the world was back. Not only was this a totally different room¡­it also had no Bayce. I felt carpet under my feet¡ªdamp and rank. Instantly I heard a snarl. In fear, confusion, and utter surprise, I jumped backward, unintentionally throwing myself back into¡­ A different room. The frigid stone floor sent a shock through my body as I almost hit a towering block. Behind it were more blocks, several holes in the wall, a hatch in the floor. Hooks in the ceiling? Maybe a kitchen¡ªthe shape of the hole suggested an oven. But all that really mattered about the room was that it was overrun by wild animals, many likely vicious. Come to think of it, some leavings had been in all three rooms, but that first one had definitely not been their main haunt. The smells were far thicker here. Which made sense if that had been a dead-end dungeon guard room, as I was suspecting. Please don¡¯t assume I was consciously thinking all of this. The thoughts churned in the back of my head as I struggled to focus on Bayce and Reed and where or how to find them. But it was very hard, and not just for the reasons humans would expect. You can smell a lot in trails and leavings. My sense of smell in the Vencian Wood had never been all that great, and any slight improvements I¡¯d had came from practice and, little by little, becoming more familiar with animals in the Wood. When the leavings were as concentrated as this, though, and when they were from other mammals, the story was clearer. This kitchen was fully as disgusting as a crypt-like kitchen sealed for centuries with its own ecosystem of wild animals could be expected to be. How there could still be food around here was anyone¡¯s guess. (Wait¡­magic.) Just standing here for a single second made my heart race, in a way that the monstrous snarl and the sheer fact of being near that hall of ancient jail cells hadn¡¯t. What in the world was I smelling? It was some combination of hormones, or even the traces of slowly evaporated sweat. It screamed with¡­fear? No, not exactly. Rage? I lurched as I heard another snarl¡ªa chorus of them. Maybe there really wasn¡¯t instant magic food in this kitchen, because I got the distinct feeling that every animal in here wanted to devour me. 109. Plagueworld Apparently once mice and rats reach a certain size, they no longer ¡°squeak.¡± Instead they snarl, growl, make hacking barks, and generally make every predatory sound you hate to hear. I was hearing them now! Before any of them could catch me, I had already jumped across another boundary between rooms, and ended up in a totally different part of the dungeon-castle. Immediately I cursed myself. What drove me away from those rats wasn¡¯t me intelligently observing that they were stronger than me¡ªon the contrary, I bet they were all weaker and the swarm, at best, equaled me in strength. No, I¡¯d escaped out of a lizard-brained fear. Those rats had smelled cruel, rabid, and evil. Like they would try anything. Like they would infect me. ¡­And that made me curse myself more. What if somehow they ended up changing course and going after Bayce? What if some other swarm of them was doing that now? Now I was alone, and all these doubts could plague me. The Beam was still hovering beside me. I¡¯d have thanked it if it had ears. This felt like a closet, with the rawest scraps of clothing hanging from poles and hooks above. Big for a closet, small for a room. It intensified my drive to escape. I started cobbling together a plan, but it was a plan that sucked. Sure, my Map wasn¡¯t working, but my mind still did. If I could keep it steady and stop letting rat hormones throw it into disarray, I could work to memorize all I could about every room I passed through, and especially about the rooms they connected to. With two different connections to consider¡ªwhere they ¡°should go¡± and where they really went¡ªthat would be a lot, but I had to try. If I warped around enough, things had to link up eventually, or even repeat. Maybe I could talk to the rats¡­ Wait, what was I thinking? No way those rats would be open to negotiation. Even if we shared a common understanding of animal body language, they were¡­they were just¡­ I shivered. They weren¡¯t just enraged. They were diseased, and the disease was making them rage. That was too scary to think about right now. I had to focus on my plans. Without much hope, I opened my Map. It looked the same as before, but¡­now there was a different message. Not an error, either.
Recalibrating¡­
Hm. That seemed like a good sign, but I wasn¡¯t about to wait for it to finish. For all I knew, it was glitched up and would keep ¡°loading¡± forever. Without further ado, I took a fairly calm step through the doorway. Naturally, I didn¡¯t end up in a bedroom, but in an unrelated hallway, seeing pits in the wall that once held torches. Wait¡­I was overlooking a couple of crucial things here. I looked up at the archway I¡¯d just passed through, and then my gaze drifted down to the bare stone wall. Setting my paw against it, I wondered what would happen if¡ª Egh! Of course my best train of thought would get interrupted. And by rat screams that were bone-shakingly close. They¡¯re not as strong as you think! I reminded myself. Still I wheeled around far too quickly and unsteadily. The rats were congregating in the room behind me. Running¡ªthey had to be running after me! I shook that assumption off. Actually, once I began to really listen, I knew they were relatively far away. They were in the next room¡­but the next room was huge, and they were careening down the middle of it. Yes, they were a terrifying sight. I peered through as closely as I could without sticking my head inside¡ªand without causing the Beam to cross that threshold, just in case. What I saw was a mass of rats grouped so thick they could¡¯ve been sludge. Fierce chitters were starting up as they set their sights on something¡ªsomeone¡ªat the other end of that room. I turned and saw Bayce, with her candle-wand in one hand. I doubted that flame was enough to see them all, but no doubt she heard it. Horror was written on her face and in her tense body. She needs to RUN! I thought, almost angry at how little she was moving.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Maybe I could lure her over to this hallway. It wouldn¡¯t bring our party back together, of course, but it would get her away and that was all that mattered. But before I could shout, Bayce launched a Spell. It went totally off course. Then, with a fading squeal, she turned and started running even farther from this doorway. ¡°Mraow!¡± I cried, as angry as I was scared for her sake. At this point, I could only pray that some of the rats would be drawn toward me, not her. My line of thinking changed once I saw what Bayce had cast: an Ice Spell on something high above. Crystalline clinking drew my eyes upward. Just barely, I saw hints of ice on the bottom of a huge light fixture. A few of the charging rats stopped in their path as rocks and dust fell¡ªthen I heard a chain snapping, and an entire chandelier covered in ice hurtled from the ceiling. Half the rats, maybe more, were crushed underneath, and even those who barely escaped found their hind legs coated in immobilizing frost. I meowed again, but with triumph. Bayce! I wanted to cheer. That Spell had been powerful, but it hadn¡¯t gotten them all. Several rats hadn¡¯t been stopped whatsoever. A few, mercifully, charged toward me. I froze at the sight instinctively¡ªonly to marvel as they blinked out of existence. Yep, they¡¯d been sent to another room, just like Bayce and I had been all along. I heard and smelled the launching of magical fire at rats closer to where Bayce was. The biggest problem was, I could no longer see what was going on. The archway I was looking through was just too small.
Recalibrated!
Current Location: ??? (S.??)
This new Map proved my point by showing just how tiny the hallway opening was compared to the room ahead, as well as how distant Bayce was. And it also amplified my point by making it impossible-er to see. Even if Bayce could do this alone, we both had limited Spells. Even if she was a way better-traveled mage than I knew, I could battle without expending resources¡ªI could fight with aura-less claws. How could I get from here to there, though? THWOOM. One of my Earth Spells went careening through the wall, busting it wide open. As I coughed out the dust of a thousand years, I bounded through the hole. The plan worked! I was in the same room with Bayce and all the rats. Now I spotted Bayce launching flames from her wand. That gave me a better idea of just what she was doing. See, the fire on that candle-wand looked exactly the same as it had when we¡¯d first entered, yet was also loosing little fireballs at the rats. The downside appeared to be that all those fires were much smaller and less effective than a single ordinary Fire Spell. It did conserve resources. (Like the Amber Beam!) But could it drive off the dozen-ish rats now congregated around her? I figured no. So I dove in with whirling claws, challenging myself not to use a single Skill. My Earth Spell gatecrashing had already drawn their attention. The rats sped at me with no coordination, like river rapids from three different streams. I found it surprisingly easy to keep calm¡ªit was as if realizing just what had scared me, and getting the ¡°victory¡± of reaching this room under my belt, was all I needed to be confident. I fell into speed and power. A pure energy I hadn¡¯t felt since we landed in this damp muggy prison filled me. And a kind of happiness, now that I felt like a rescuer. Aura-charged teeth and claws barely clipped me. Dancing between blows, I seemed to taste the power I¡¯d had when I wielded the golden blade. I began to remember the way I¡¯d moved when I fought several times as many raccoons¡­ And then it was done. All too soon, the rats were defeated. A few were fleeing, squeaking amongst themselves, but seven were scattered across the floor.
EXP: 93% (4046/4350)
HP 93% (770/828)
SP 34% (268/795)
My only loss, besides a few HP points, was the disappearance of the Amber Beam. It must¡¯ve bumped into some poor rat¡¯s face and burned away. With Bayce¡¯s wand, I¡¯d manage. She had helped. She¡¯d continued casting tiny fireballs even when I¡¯d entered the fray, and not one had hit me. Any wound is a wound, and all the damage she dealt helped distract the rats and slow them down. Her posture was still rigid, her breathing heavy¡ªmaybe she¡¯d go on feeling frightened and trapped until we finally busted ourselves and Reed out of here¡ªbut she looked at me with, I thought, a new affection. And I did the same back at her. ¡°Genius thinking,¡± she said. And with no sarcasm! ¡°We keep doing that¡±¡ªshe pointed toward the hole in the wall with her wand¡ª¡°and we won¡¯t even have to look at a door.¡± I nodded¡­though I wasn¡¯t sure we had enough high-power Spells to bring down enough walls. This seemed to be an entire castle, after all. ¡°Now¡­I think that¡¯s a throne over there.¡± Bayce pointed. ¡°It¡¯s not a great hint, but it¡¯s a start. Let¡¯s investigate?¡± 110. A Powder Room A massive pipe organ dominated one end of the room. In this gloom, I couldn¡¯t see where its sides ended. Which made it all the bigger: its sides didn¡¯t end. The top didn¡¯t either, its pipes extending into the ceiling, for all I knew. Bayce fired some fire left and right. Meters upon meters later, each one hit a wall and quenched itself. This organ took up a full wall. Then more flames were launched, hitting flat stone and slightly melting metal. Directly in front, there was, indeed, a throne. Maybe all the gold finery that had once adorned it had been stolen over time, because all that remained were a thin metal frame and bits of cushions. Behind it was something like a grand piano. As Bayce strode up to the keys, I felt mixed fear and hope. Either this was an awful decision or a great one. Still, if it was a trap, I felt convinced that I could fight through it. If it proved to be the gizmo that set off an amazing string of mechanisms in the castle to give us a miraculous way forward, all the better. It was neither. No sound came out as she pressed a key. Several others, pressed with conviction, didn¡¯t do much more. ¡°Broken,¡± she said, lifting a lid. She let it slam down, then tossed fireballs upward and gazed at the results. She bit her lip. ¡°That or it isn¡¯t even an instrument anymore.¡± Things were crawling in those pipes. I came closer, hopped onto the closed lid, and fired an Amber Beam. 8 percent of my SP was a decent price to pay for a better look, and the light, though not too strong, lasted a bit longer than a Lightning Spell¡¯s. Gray, grainy stuff was shimmering down the pipes¡ªa substance that struck me as too dark and too¡­normal to be glitch dust. I had an immediate suspicion of what this dust could be, but doubted it could help us. Plus, as the laser finished burning away ceiling rock and began to blink out, I spotted something else inside that made my skin crawl. ¡°Aah!¡± Bayce cried out, seeing what I saw. ¡°What was¡­¡± I took this time to pull out my clumsy Spirit Board and tell her, ¡°MORE RATS. OR MORE MICE?¡± There were creatures, crawling down from someplace beyond the ceiling, inside of the dust. Bayce shook her head. ¡°Yeah, this isn¡¯t helping. I think we just need to uncover more rooms.¡± And I had to agree. I put the small mystery behind me and turned away. Using the Board, I gave Bayce a request. ¡°HELP WITH WALLS IF U CAN. JUST SAVE A FEW SPELLS FOR BATTLE.¡± With no immediate sounds of rats, at least we¡¯d probably be safe for a few minutes. Bayce put a finger to her chin. ¡°I think I can speed this up a bit,¡± she said. I practically wagged my tail. *** Suggestion number one wasn¡¯t so successful. A single Lightning Spell could travel quite a ways, but when I attempted to blaze through multiple walls at the same time, I found that while the first wall was obliterated, the second was merely charred. But that was still progress. My new Map was definitely getting filled out: See, after discovering the shape and size of the throne room, Bayce and I had started busting into new rooms, but not just willy-nilly. I was on one side of that big pipe organ, Bayce was on the other. I¡¯d broken down one wall. She had broken down¡­none. But cut her some slack, she was using nothing but her wand fireballs and those were really weak. Bayce could use her own Lightnings or whatever, but leaving her with no good combat Spells was not something we¡¯d have been remotely comfortable with. For now, she was blasting stone that just didn¡¯t want to burn. Suggestion number two remained to be tried, and once we had Bayce¡¯s wall torn down, we could do it. Oh, and I¡¯d slapped a tracker on one of the rats earlier, in the thick of the fight. Watching their icon bob around wasn¡¯t useful, except to tell me that there were indeed many warpy rooms in this castle. I cat-jogged into the pitch-black chamber with the partially Lightning¡¯d wall, padding slowly across a floor that, mercifully, proved to be un-booby-trapped and free of pointy sticks. Pushing at the wall, I found that some of the bricks were loose. Perfect, perfect. Um, perfect if not for my seriously cumbersome Inventory. I swear, every time I got a game-changing upgrade, I got slapped in the face with more responsibilities¡ªin this case, lots of Swiss army Spells¡ªthat basically cancelled it out. At least I¡¯d put the Spirit Board in my easy access and jammed the Queen¡¯s diary in that less convenient burlap sack, where it belonged. In nekomata form, I grabbed the brick and raced back to the throne-and-organ room. Bayce had just burned a hole right beside her doorway, and when she saw me, she beamed. ¡°We¡¯re getting somewhere!¡± she said under her breath. ¡°Okay, hold it up and hold still.¡± I did. The old brick sat on my palms, all while Bayce simply¡­stared at it. She looked at it straight on, then turned and rotated it with her free hand. Studying it hard so she could keep the image of it fixed in her mind. This was necessary in order to cast an Attract Spell on something far away that you couldn¡¯t even see. Then, when she was done, she closed her eyes and exhaled. ¡°Okay,¡± she said. ¡°On the count of¡­thirty.¡± And she felt her way into the next barren room while I charged back to the place I¡¯d been. I set the brick on a rotting stool, un-Morphed, and waited in darkness, almost afraid that it wouldn¡¯t work at all. But then the Spell went off, and it worked just as Bayce had said it would. In an impossible burst of speed, the stone flashed away. It really might have teleported, except for the FWISH! and the choking dust cloud. Straight ahead, meters and meters away, I saw the faint twinkle of Bayce¡¯s wand. Her free hand held the brick, then lofted it like a trophy. This was absolutely not the end of our worries, but we took the wins we could get. Several minutes later, I asked, ¡°WHATS THIS PLACE?¡± By then, we¡¯d uncovered more rooms and encountered more rats¡ªthough they were avoiding us now. ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± she said after taking a drink from a canteen. She leaned against a column, not far from a once-cozy hearth. ¡°You mean you don¡¯t know?¡± In the light of her wand, I shook my head.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. ¡°Darn. You leading us straight here got my hopes up.¡± She flashed a good-natured smile, but probably didn¡¯t have it in her to laugh. ¡°Water?¡± I nodded. Our ¡°waterfall¡± technique was better than it had been with Reed by the Kaugs¡ªI was more experienced while she was more refined. Bayce kept reflecting. ¡°This has got to be a historical relic, and yet, whenever I bust a wall down¡­I just don¡¯t feel guilty. ¡®S that odd?¡± Uh¡­I shook my head. ¡°THIS IS LIKE OUR PRISON, SO NO¡± ¡°Good point.¡± She squinted into the distance¡ªin this case, through a big gaping wall-hole. ¡°This is gonna sound weird, but I¡¯m almost having fun here. It¡¯s like all it took was for me to get a game plan. Now I know how to explore¡­and how to keep hitting my head against a wall until it simply collapses. In this case, pretty literally.¡± Finding Reed was foremost in my mind right now. The relative fun of breaking stuff and feeling the thrill of battle had faded again, and taking this break had brought me back to the original goal. So while I understood where Bayce was coming from, I couldn¡¯t exactly enjoy this. ¡°BEING SCARED CAN BE FUN,¡± I said. ¡°And it really shouldn¡¯t be!¡± She put the canteen away and stretched. ¡°Welp, can¡¯t stay forever. Which way next, you said?¡± I pointed a paw, but then corrected myself and turned elsewhere¡ªorienting myself vis-a-vis the Map was harder when there was no sun to show me east and west. ¡°This way again?¡± Bayce said. ¡°Why, you think we¡¯ll find a doorway?¡± To be honest, I wasn¡¯t even sure this place was aboveground. And not because we¡¯d warped here after diving into a pond. A cold mugginess like this just didn¡¯t seem possible in, y¡¯know, a world with sunlight and weather. ¡°NO BUT I THINK THERES STAIRS¡± Using my last Earth Spells, a single Ice Spell, and almost all of Bayce¡¯s Attractions, we¡¯d cleared several rooms in this castle, without seeing even a hint of a window or a way outside. What we hadn¡¯t yet found was a dungeon keep¡ªlike the room we¡¯d started out in¡ªor a bedroom¡ªlike the second room I¡¯d been in. No hatches, either. Alright, maybe we could¡¯ve made our way up to the ceiling of the throne room. After all, we¡¯d knocked a whole chandelier down and left a gap in the ceiling. But sending fire through that hole had revealed more hard stone to push through. Not a reliable path and no guarantee it¡¯d lead to anything. The castles in my data banks had towers, towers at the corners. I was now guiding us northwest, and that was why. Bayce trusted me without asking further. On the way to that corner, I had the feeling something fateful might be waiting at the other end, so I secured a Level Up by picking off one of the rats¡ªguiltily, now that I knew they were sick and they were deliberately avoiding us. I scampered up to a wall and hissed in their face. After a swat, they fled. That wasn¡¯t so bad. But the Experience wasn¡¯t enough, so I scouted out another, and that did it. Bayce watched with interest, but was biting her tongue. The Level Up filled me with a physical rush, but my heart wasn¡¯t in it.
Stats
Taipha Calico Ranger
Lv. 30 EXP: 2% (93/4500)
HP 100% (855/855)
SP 100% (820/820)
ATK 159 (+1!)
INT 93 (+2!)
DEF 111
WIS 104
SPD 132
With six Minor Heals and several Spells still in my arsenal, I should have felt prepared. Instead, I felt almost as nervous as I had when we¡¯d first arrived. As it turned out, another Lightning through the wall was all it took to reveal those telltale stairs. They spiraled upward into darkness. Whether they¡¯d spit us out onto parapets or into merely a few bedchambers, we still weren¡¯t sure. What we did know was that they were not getting us back to the outside world. The world outside those notch-windows was flat black. We stood before the doorway, stymied. Despite having pooled our collective brainpower, we¡­did not exactly know how to scale these stairs. The tower, you see, was connected to the hall we stood in by an open doorway. And the doorways would warp us. I had considered that earlier. Looking at an archway just before I found Bayce struggling against the rats, I¡¯d asked myself, ¡°Shouldn¡¯t there be powder on these doors?¡± It had to be there, given the Queen¡¯s powerset¡­and yet we couldn¡¯t see it. Then, all of a sudden, an idea hit Bayce, along with her palm. ¡°Ah!¡± she cried. ¡°Why didn¡¯t we do this sooner?¡± Without a word of explanation, she lifted her wand and blasted the top of the arch. Nothing happened, so she blasted the floor. Silver shimmers that hadn¡¯t been visible before exploded from the point of impact, scattering in the air, across the ground. I jumped back, and so did Bayce¡ªeven further, repulsed in a much more visceral way. ¡°Sorry,¡± she hissed out. ¡°I really shouldn¡¯t have.¡± It¡¯s totally okay, I wanted to tell her. I tried in a meow. Bayce picked up a fragment of a twig on the floor and tossed it forward¡ªinstead of bouncing on the blasted threshold, it disappeared. Then she leaned forward just a little. She was studying the ground or the air somehow, but I couldn¡¯t guess why. She ran and came back half a minute later, holding our trusty Attraction brick. With fury, she lobbed it straight at the far end of the tower. It hit the wall. ¡°That is some bullcrap,¡± she said instantly. ¡°We¡¯re finding a way to jump over this thing.¡± ¡°Meow?¡± ¡°Better yet¡ª¡± She ran away again, and while she was away, the pieces came together in my head. Bayce came back with a vaguely familiar metal table, or maybe bench. It was a long rectangle with short legs. Old, but not too flimsy, and it might just hold up for the few seconds we needed it to. With triumph, she dropped it so the doorway cut across its center. Then she walked across the squealy slab and got through. In order to be warped, you had to touch the dust¡­or the ground that held it. Objects could warp, but not if they only touched the ground long before the dust even began. Either that, or organic things warped and inorganic things like metal didn¡¯t. Or maybe both! But we weren¡¯t about to test both. This was the power of logical thinking. I meowed in a low tone as I crossed. ¡°Come on,¡± she said in a playful growl. ¡°You¡¯re not any worse than me at this kind of puzzle-solving. I train to do it, so strictly speaking, I suck more than you.¡± ¡°Mreaow!¡± I cried. Nobody sucks! We began to mount the stairs, looking all around us, keeping our eyes and ears alert. Nothing prepared us for the interruption that changed Bayce¡¯s banter into a scream. I yelped too, and we both jumped back. A sapphire wraith was right in front of us¡ªso close that Bayce¡¯s nose was an inch away from the kidnapped woman in her clutches, the hand clamped around her mouth. 111. A Stabbable Queen Nothing prepares you for an image of one of your worst fears zooming directly into your face. The fear here, of course, was Reed being held captive by the Sapphire Queen. The Queen herself looked more like a demon or ghost than ever: was that a kind of smoke wafting off of her skin, or sheer black energy? Her eyes were glowing silver-white with their own power. But even though I was screaming with terror on the inside, I soon stifled my scream on the outside. I didn¡¯t need to urge Bayce away¡ªshe was already scrambling down the narrow, claustrophobic stairs. She took much of the light with her, but in theory, I¡¯d hardly need it. I just had to follow the plan I¡¯d given myself much earlier. After all, I had a whole battery of Skills to make me stronger, and strictly speaking, there was no guarantee that my enemy had anything like them. I¡¯d thought about it a little: if an insecty-human had only shown me magic-powder-based abilities, why assume she also had claw-strengthening abilities, supercharged fists, strength boosters, or anything of the kind? Maybe she had no multipliers without her Bug Blade, maybe she only had high Stats across the board¡ªand in that case, if I used enough Guards and Meditates, I could easily compensate. Besides that, I had a few Spells she might not be expecting. And I¡¯d gotten them from a human companion, something I had many reasons to doubt she had. One might think the fact that she was currently holding Reed like a human shield threw a wrench in things, and, um¡­yeah, it kinda did. Reed had appeared before us like an apparition, with one of the Queen¡¯s hands clamped around her mouth and the other crushing her abdomen as it forced her arms behind her back. Shock, fright, but most of all the sheer weariness of having been imprisoned in a place nobody knew¡ªthese were all glistening in eyes that had shed tears. But through the slight haze of my first Meditate, I reminded myself that there were far more ways to hit a foe than head-on, or with blunt force. My one and only Water Spell was lobbed at the Queen¡¯s face. It stuck there, hovering around her whole head, and she actually stumbled back. A bullet of water is gone in a flash, but a bubble of it begins to suffocate. Reed was still in her clutches, though, her grip just as strong. So I cast an Ice Spell, aiming, as well as I could in this awkward stairwell, for the Queen¡¯s head. It froze over in a twinkling instant, and the crystals, I hoped, were binding her to the floor. Even if they weren¡¯t, the loss of consciousness should weaken her grip. And that it did. Reed muscled out of the Queen¡¯s clutches and rose sitting on her shins. After a couple of deep but panicky breaths, she jumped to her feet and whirled around. A flashing blade, furious with pink energy, was jammed straight into our enemy¡¯s chest. Before I could second-guess all this and wonder if a death sentence was too much, it all warped away. Reed, the Queen, the blade¡­everything but the ice, gone the same way they¡¯d appeared. Y¡¯know, there was a very real possibility the Queen only had one Skill and could only use that ad nauseam. Or there was until shortly after the disappearance, she started disproving the notion. A wraith and a familiar blade appeared behind me, but I was no longer so afraid of that. She¡¯d given me more than enough time to use, um, about five Guards. The thing ate into my skin¡ªI¡¯d held up my forearms in an X. For the first time, I felt the full force of a blow from her weapon, the pressure of her entire body forcing that blade into me.
DEF 389 (+200%)
HP 4% (33/855)
I cried out, lost my footing, and toppled onto the stairs. My Health was miserably low, and the cuts in my arms were nasty, but to tell you the truth, I didn¡¯t feel as bad as I was letting on. I howled and rolled over, signs of surrender. Really, though, rolling onto my stomach and crushing my arms helped me disguise the healing of those wounds when I used my Minor Heals¡ªand the arching of my back hid the puffs of Spell-smoke.
HP 74% (633/855)
SP 67% (550/820)
This didn¡¯t count as a bad position. Whatever the Queen was doing, she wasn¡¯t attacking me just yet, so I kept yowling like my life depended on it while I piled on more Guards.
SP 45% (370/820)
DEF 611 (+450%)
Mid-yowl, I rolled back to my feet, and realized that I now had much easier terrain to work with.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. I would¡¯ve checked the location with my Map if not for this being pitched combat. It certainly wasn¡¯t a room I¡¯d been in before. The ground was tile, and a few meters ahead was a basin with what had to be the most rank and frigid water imaginable. Gentle light streamed in from a skylight, but whatever it was, it didn¡¯t look like pure sunlight. Between me and the water was the Queen clearly and inconveniently activating Skills that weren¡¯t related to the powder. Black aura steamed around her, white eyes blaring like headlights. Glowing strands like the thinnest-possible antennae arced upward from her head. From her elbows extended two rough-edged weapons¡ªnatural blades, like parts of her. This didn¡¯t scare me anymore. It made me impossibly anxious, yes, but somehow it did not scare me. I feared death, still, and I definitely preferred not to suffer pain and dying, and yet it was all¡ªmore familiar. The Queen, too. Reading her diary had made her less intimidating, if still mysterious. Having a plan of my own did even more. I hadn¡¯t even touched the sword I¡¯d expected to rely on yet, and I dared to wonder if I¡¯d need it. After all, if the swords counteracted each other¡­she had my weakness just as much as I had hers. And she had yet to draw her own cheat-code sword. The Queen charged forward with one armblade back, coming in for a stab. Just before I rolled out of the way, I used Cloak.
SP 23% (190/820)
Now my goal was to disrupt her senses about the same way she had mine¡ªrelying on my Speed, springiness, and generally chaotic mind, trusting that I could weave a path she could hardly follow. Mid-jump, I launched a Fire Spell in her face. She swatted it away. Skidding and rolling, I aimed ice at her feet and ankles. Her aura actually blew them apart. The Queen was moving cautiously, arms up, mainly tracking my moves with her eyes. It was a good sign, one suggesting that if I tricked her eyes, I might have her. The seconds on Cloak ticked down. My thoughts were frenetic, throwing every ingredient they had together. I crossed to one end of the rectangular pool. Not a huge pool, and not a huge room, so it didn¡¯t take me long. By now, the Queen had started lobbing experimental shards of aura around¡ªthings that looked a lot like my Air Cutters, but came straight from the energy surrounding her. None of these hit me, but they did keep me alert and dodging. Suddenly she came off her feet. Pulled like a rag doll, she was moved toward me, across the pool, by an Attraction Spell. When she was about halfway, I threw another Spell while standing still¡ªa giveaway for my location, but in a moment it would cease to matter. The High-Gravity Spell I threw next had her plunge like a bullet into the water. Would she break as she hit the tile at the bottom? I wasn¡¯t going to check. Next I launched a Lightning Spell. For an eye-searing moment, the whole pool lit up in a splendid flash. I had no idea what specifically was going on here, but lightning in water was supposed to be bad. Evidently, it was blazing through every bit of that water. It¡¯d hardly worn off when I launched an Ice Spell¡ªagain, not really aiming, just hitting the water itself. It acted just as I¡¯d hoped: in a single second, it froze an enormous lump right in the center, its crystals reaching down lower and lower, consuming all they found. Wow, I¡¯d fully expected the Lightning to wreak havoc on this whole body of water, but knowing Ice could be this powerful in water was a nice surprise. Knowing her, she¡¯d probably just warp out of the ice right after all this anyway, but I was content with what I¡¯d done. This was almost like seeing an overly complicated art project come together. Near-silence followed. Already some of the taller ice crystals at the top of the cluster were beginning to drip, and they echoed in this¡­pool room. The tiles said ¡°pool¡± to me, but maybe also ¡°bathhouse.¡± And the skylight, I could see, produced a cold steady light whose color reminded me of the cabin refrigerator. I didn¡¯t dare to open my Map yet, in case I¡¯d suddenly and desperately need my eyes. But I did notice two figures sitting in a recess in the opposite wall¡­ Cloak wore off. So did the power of the Ice Spell, because yes indeed, the Queen was now standing on top of the remaining ice, as if she¡¯d been standing there all along. Vague metallic glimmers on its surface told the story. Without hesitation, I activated an Attraction Spell and used the last of my SP on a Slash. We¡¯re all organic creatures, you know¡­even those of us who are weird hybrids, unsure who we are in the animal kingdom. Everyone organic has a jugular vein! Everyone needs to breathe! Fascinatingly, I could use Attraction to target a specific body part, just as long as it was clear in my eyesight or in my mind. She careened toward me. Not as bonelessly as last time, because she must¡¯ve known what was coming. Well, she could brace herself all she wanted, but she couldn¡¯t exactly make her neck do¡­ Okay, what was this? My claws wouldn¡¯t even go in. A buring, red-aura¡¯d critical hit with my strongest offensive move was only bruising her. Those two people watching from the alcove were seeing a strange sight: a calico cat repeatedly jabbing her claws into a person lying on her side who, thanks to the bracer-like shapes of her arms and the aura billowing around her, looked like a hulking behemoth. ¡°You know,¡± a suspiciously Bayce-like voice called out, ¡°there are more stairs over there, and Reed¡¯s right here. So if you could just finish fighting¡­¡± The Queen flashed to her feet. An echoing stomp, one amplified by the ethereal gasping roar of her aura itself, filled the room, and her steely eyes squinted toward Bayce. I looked toward Bayce too. She and Reed were poking their heads out from the alcove now, just sort of¡­watching. They¡¯d been there the entire time, hadn¡¯t they? It relieved me a bit to know they hadn¡¯t gotten involved in the fighting, not since Reed tried to stab her through the chest. As noble as that was, if she¡¯d done that and the Queen had retaliated¡­I couldn¡¯t have forgiven myself. A message, one from the System but not, popped into my vision. Oh yeah, I thought, she can say things. Kind of.
Yeah fine, that human has a point Even unarmed, you¡¯re beyond good You will do just fine. Let¡¯s go have tea
I smiled at her. Being in my cat form, my smile was just like all my other expressions: highly suspect. You¡¯ve never been more stabbable than in this moment, I thought. 112. Conference Table A miniature army of familiar brown bugs had airlifted a table and rickety chairs in from some distant wing of the castle, and now Reed, Bayce and I were poolside attendants of a pretty enraging tea party. I would take a look at that Map now, but I was too busy reading through the Queen¡¯s stream of messages to me. This was all making sense. And yet¡­it made no sense. That was the truly infuriating part. Though Bayce and Reed looked haggard and we all refused to drink from our dainty, dust-coated teacups, at least they weren¡¯t poring through this wordgarbage. Reed¡­I had barely gotten a chance to check in with her post-battle. A whisper, a hand on my paw, and a steady gaze had told me she was relatively alright. It seemed she was unharmed, save for a few sores. Fortunately Bayce was here to keep consoling her, all while the two of them maintained death glares at our tormentor the Queen. As I was learning now, though, she actually had a name. Which was good, since aside from her looking cool and mysterious sometimes, I didn¡¯t associate her with any kind of noble behavior. Then again, Sierra was a goddess¡­
And that¡¯s why I tormented you
Logy¡¯s story had come to an end. An abrupt one, I thought. Slamming the Spirit Board onto the table¡ªand not incidentally cracking my teacup, spilling its tea across a millennia-old platter¡ªI spelled out, ¡°OK WHY DIDNT YOU WRITE ANYTHING USEFUL IN THE BOOK???¡± Logy blinked.
Haha You thought I could write? Why would you think I could write
¡­Uh¡­what did I even say to that¡­how did I even say to that¡­ The person sitting across from us looked odd, and now that we were both standing still and nobody was really panicked, I got a good look at her for the first-ever time. There was no ethereal glow, no wafting darkness, just a person. Her hair was long, black-purple, with pops of white that I almost confused for reflective shine. Two antennae stuck up from just beneath her hairline, thin from sone angles and much thinner from others. Her eyes were the same flat black as the rock¡ªor void¡ªoutside this castle¡¯s windows. Baggy pants and an ill-fitting white shirt, flagrantly stained by grass and dirt, almost revealed the little pink things on her larger chest bobs. I also had yet to see her drink, though she had held a cup to her mouth¡­or where her mouth should be. Though I swore I¡¯d seen her smile in the past, either she just outright had no mouth or her lips were really, extremely thin.
That¡¯s almost like thinking I can speak
Inwardly I sighed. ¡°FINE BUT ANSWER THE QUESTION,¡± I spelled. Reed and Bayce watched my finger with a bit of wonder, never letting up on their lowered brows. I felt bad for them, only able to follow the quieter end of this conversation. But also bad for me, who endured it.
Our Systems are very much alike. They don¡¯t give us the capacity to write Even my power to read was incomplete until I forced the System to give me more features This is simply a book that I found. I infused it with my will. It acted from there Didn¡¯t it help?
¡°NO,¡± I said immediately.
It did help. It made you curious about me and that brought us together
My eye twitched. The gist of Logy¡¯s whole big long story from earlier was this: like me, she was thrown into Vencia by the powers of an Arkmagus. Unlike me, she had little guidance. Even her System wasn¡¯t cooperative, though apparently she¡¯d found ways to glitch and break its architecture¡ªwhatever that meant in practice. But she did have a few messages and instructions she¡¯d found in her System files. Her ¡°Maker,¡± or Arkmagus, had commanded to her to meet someone who could be ¡°a rival and a friend.¡± Together they would be a strong-enough duo to brave the dangers that had trapped¡­her Maker themself. So she saw herself as being on a rescue mission for her god. But even though she looked fairly cool, and decently mysterious, and she could raise her INT Stat, and I was sure her INT Stat was fairly high, she saw no problems with the way she¡¯d gone about her plan to make me simultaneously a rival and a friend. ¡°IF THE BOOK HAD ASKED NICELY FOR ME TO BE YOUR FRIEND AND HAVE FRIENDLY FIGHTS WITH YOU,¡± I told her, ¡°IT WOULD BE FINE. BUT YOU GLARED AT ME AND MADE BUGS EAT ME! HOW DOES THAT MAK ESNESE?????¡±
I did not write the book!
¡°OK WHY DIDNT YOU WALK OVER TO ME AND GIVE ME PRESENTS?¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
What? Are you supposed to give presents to your rival?
I genuinely couldn¡¯t tell if she was being acidly sarcastic or flabbergasted. ¡°ARE YOU ASKING ME OR TELLING ME?¡± Logy ¡°sipped¡± her tea.
I hate words
A finger tapped my shoulder. I looked to my right and found Reed and Bayce turned my way. ¡°Are you getting any answers?¡± Reed whispered.
I can hear you
Don¡¯t care, I thought. Then I shook my head to Reed. ¡°You¡¯re talking to a wall here,¡± Bayce said.
I¡¯m clearly not a wall. How ignorant can you get
I squinted hard at this¡­but I took pity on Logy. I spelled out, ¡°ITS A METAPHOR. IF SOMEONE ISNT COOPERATING WE COMPARE THEM TO A WALL¡±
Oh
Reed huffed. ¡°If this discussion isn¡¯t getting anywhere,¡± she told me, ¡°then the way I see it¡­we have two options.¡± I knew them: escape or fight again. Both would take an enormous, terrifying level of craftiness on our part. Before I could mull on that, Bayce, who¡¯d been staring dead-eyed at the Spirit Board for several moments, snapped her fingers. ¡°It¡¯s just like I said,¡± she murmured. ¡°She¡¯s just clueless.¡±
That doesn¡¯t sound proper for a tea table
I flinched at Logy¡¯s message, but when I turned her way, she looked just as stationary and un-powered as before, and the buzz of the krigries hadn¡¯t been here since the tea was poured. ¡°PLZ SAY SOMETHING LESS LIKE A THREAT,¡± I told Bayce. She looked Logy in the eye. ¡°I meant she¡¯s hilarious!¡± Logy had no response, physical or otherwise. ¡°ALSO YOU HAVE A KIND HEART,¡± I spelled. ¡°I KNOW IT BECAUSE YOUR DIARY SAID! YOU JUST WANTED A FRIEND. FOR THINGS TO MAKE SENSE.¡± Words that started as a saving throw to calm Logy down¡ªwhat did I know if she had a ¡°kind heart,¡± she¡¯d never shown it¡ªbecame more genuine. The way out of this wasn¡¯t to escape (and fail) or fight (and fail). It was to fulfill ¡°her Maker¡¯s¡± request and give Logy what she¡¯d been seeking from the start. The idea of befriending her felt like poison in my veins, but would be far better than allowing this mess to continue. There would be no more of her crashing Reed¡¯s cabin to kill me. Only us mutually agreeing on some other place for her to kill me. Thinking back¡­I had never gone into a situation wanting to make friends. Either I had been pressured into it, or it¡¯d just sort of happened, like when Heidschi fixed Reed¡¯s quilt for me, or when that possum became a sort of ally. Once I got stronger, I could reconsider this, throw Logy off my back without fear of her taking revenge or anything. I might take a look at her ¡°heart¡± and find it bitter beyond saving. But in this moment, she seemed like a lost butterfly who was bitter because she was wild, confused because she was wild, and lashing out because she was wild and figured that was what you did with friends and rivals. A tiger cub plays rough with their siblings¡­and maybe a butterfly might if they had weapon-limbs fit for playing. Logy had claimed that she¡¯d put us in mortal danger and terror just to test us and make sure we¡ªmostly me¡ªwere strong enough. Maybe she acted this way because she was wild and scared, with no real idea what it would take to rescue her Maker. I was not quite ready to make an offer of friendship yet, though my mind was now set on it. ¡°WHY ARE YOU SO DETERMINED TO DO THIS?¡± I asked. ¡°TO SAVE YOUR ARKMAGUS¡± For the first time, I noticed her body language change. Her shoulders tightened.
It¡¯s what I was reborn to do. You weren¡¯t?
I didn¡¯t know what to make of this. ¡°NO¡±
Do you just fool around?
¡°WELL, KIND OF¡± Her stare hadn¡¯t changed at all, yet I felt her look was trying to shame me. Which might¡¯ve been fair. Then again, Sierra hadn¡¯t exactly burdened me with any direct directives besides ¡°have fun¡± and ¡°get a Treasure.¡± ¡­I did have another directive, actually, and one that, in spirit, I didn¡¯t mind following. I preferred having friends to having enemies. Though it was empty flattery with a bit of hope for now. ¡°IM GLAD ITS SETTLED, LOGY,¡± I said¡ªbeing hasty and presumptuous on purpose. ¡°I MADE A NEW FRIEND AND RIVAL TODAY. IM REALLY GLAD WE CLEARED THAT UP!¡± (¡°Glad¡± wasn¡¯t my main emotion here.) ¡°LETS ALL LEAVE IT¡¯S A BEAUTIFUL DAY!!!¡± Suddenly, Reed leaned forward and offered a smile. ¡°Yes!¡± she cried. ¡°What little I saw of the sky today was enchanting.¡± ¡°What a great idea, to celebrate it with our new friend!¡± Bayce said. I hoped Logy would read her tone as amusement, and definitely not laughter in any way. Logy looked around. She looked at the tea, which had not been enjoyed by anyone but her. ¡°I think in this case,¡± Reed said, ¡°it would be more polite for us to offer all of the tea to our benefactor rather than the other way around.¡± Logy¡¯s antennae twitched. She sent me a quick question. ¡°SHE ASKS WHY¡± ¡°Because if humans drink this, we will die. And it would be extremely rude for us to die on you.¡± ¡°SHE SAYS WE ALL LEARNED TODAY. I GUESS THAT MEANS ¡®THANK YOU¡¯¡± 113. Freefly Reed and Bayce were entirely onboard with me befriending Logy for the sake of escaping this ruined castle. We followed her on foot¡ªshe¡¯d been about to warp us out with a wave of her arm and a dash of powder scales, but when I yowled and insisted she hold back, she was happy, or at least mildly content, to take us the normal way. As if the place were normal. Logy first led us up from that pool-bath basement room to a hatch in the southern reaches of the castle, then to the southeast column stairwell. Here we climbed. Bayce lit the way for me and Reed with another Fireball on her wand, which looked dented in places but burned just the same as before. Logy seemed to be lighting the way with, um, headlights in her eyes. Whatever kind of eye-glow laser-beam Skill she had. Bayce shared a few of the wilder details about our journey down here. Even though nothing happened that would anger or bother Logy (we assumed), best not to share many details when we were right behind her. Likewise, Reed shared a little bit, saying, ¡°She didn¡¯t hurt me¡­too much.¡± Then we¡¯d ascended to the top, and finally a window showed the slightest hint of light. The atmosphere was as rock-cold as it¡¯d ever been, but with the faintest whisper of a breeze. Technically, the way forward was blocked. It seemed that window was big enough only for me to crawl through, and some ancient rockfall closed off the stairwell¡¯s path forward. Bayce noticed this and shifted, her bracelets jingling. ¡°Do we have to¡ª¡± One rock at a time, and silently, the avalanche disappeared, unblocking more air and a dim light. Logy looked over her shoulder and gave her a pointed stare. Bayce winced, but tried to look tough, and Reed shared the tough look close by her side. I let the Spirit Board slap itself loud against the wall. Everyone contorted their bodies to read it. ¡°SHE SAYS YOU WONT TOUCH ANY DUST SINCE SHE WAS EFFICIENT¡± ¡°I hope not,¡± Bayce said, standing on the verge of a snort. ¡°I have a really violent magical allergy to flickering dust.¡± That lie was almost not a lie. I was pretty impressed by my friends¡¯ ability to lie fast under pressure. Then again, it wasn¡¯t like Logy was some great lie detector. As she turned forward again, seeming almost crestfallen, she sent me another message.
Why are your people so fragile?
Yep, she was taking the half-truth so seriously it hurt. It took a bit of maneuvering to get ourselves out of the stairwell and through the roof. More rocks remained, serving almost as another flight of stairs to a hole in broken brick¡ªonly these stairs were, you know, rocks. Bayce¡¯s shoes were not designed for it. But after a two-meter hike, we made it into the open air! Of a massive cave! This was only ¡°open¡± by contrast. What I had to guess was sunlight trickled in through cracks in the stone above, along with moss and tree roots. Around us, there wasn¡¯t much to see, and seeing itself was difficult. Bats fluttered around in the meager light beams and into caverns about a hundred meters below. Everyone but Logy looked back at the magnificent rooftops of the buried castle. Like this column, several sections were buried and crushed and half-destroyed. Some seemed to connect directly to the surface, becoming one with the tree roots and stalactites. ¡°Queen, you must be a great explorer,¡± Bayce said, staring off with hands on hips. ¡°LOGY,¡± I corrected. ¡°¡­How do you pronounce that?¡±
I don¡¯t know, you¡¯re the ones with mouths
¡°UM,¡± I said, ¡°SHE SAYS U DECIDE.¡± And they did. ¡°Logy,¡± Bayce repeated, pronouncing it exactly the way you¡¯d assume, ¡°this is quite the location. I wonder if it has any lore that you might know.¡±
No.
¡°UM,¡± I said, ¡°LOGY MAYBE YOU AT LEAST KNOW WHERE WE ARE IN THE WOODS?¡±
Yeah, maybe
I shared a look with Bayce and Reed. ¡°What a great view,¡± Reed said, with such a deep nod to Logy it was almost a bow. ¡°Well, it¡¯s been a long day, and I enjoyed being the¡­bait that¡­allowed my other friends Bayce and Taipha to come down here and make friends with you. Humans, um¡­require several hours of sleep to function.¡±
HA. You can¡¯t fool me. It¡¯s not nighttime down here, it just looks like it This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Taipha, I¡¯m not here for them. They¡¯ve served their purpose and I¡¯d rather be discussing things with you one-on-one.
Inside, I cringed at her words. ¡°THESE TWO ARE MY FRIENDS. NOT DISPOSABLE. AND THEY JUST WANT US TO HAVE A GOOD TIME TOGETHER!¡±
Why have a good time when my Maker is suffering?
I all but rolled my eyes. ¡°UM BECAUSE FRIENDS DO THAT¡± That seemed to convince her. It felt good to be on the side of the manipulator for once, not the puppet. ***
Recalibrating¡­ Recalibrated!
BOOM. An eruption of rock, snow and soil signaled the coming of the Dark Butterfly¡ªwhich was not what anyone called her but seemed apt. A bristling deep-purple aura streamed down from a tiny butterfly¡¯s form and turned her into a dagger shooting up, shooting through the underground and now into the truly open atmosphere. Two humans and one nekomata grabbed her by the nearly microscopic handholds that were her insect feet. The aura on her had spread away from them like an umbrella, keeping them unharmed and blasting debris away. Now, though, the three let go and tumbled off, rolling in snow.
Current Location: ??? (S.A4)
If there was any consolation prize to this whole misadventure, it was this: I was now in that unexplored northern region of the Kaugs. Yaaay! Dust was stinging my eyes while the crunchy snow surrounded me like an evil inverse blanket. Bayce flew upright like she was spring-loaded. ¡°Ugh!¡± she said, in between spits of frost, wiping hands all over her top. Reed, similarly, was swatting herself with her arms, tossing snow in every direction. Luckily, Morphing back to cat form was enough to get most of my snow off¡ªit just fell into the vacuum where I used to be. Then I shook the rest off pretty daintily and darted to the nearest non-snowy, just-rock patch I could find. Still too cold, but bearable. I looked up, still squinting the debris out of my eyes. The butterfly had almost winked out of view entirely, now that she no longer had the aura and was high up. But I guessed she¡¯d be descending soon, and practically hunting for me. Reed kneeled by me and said in a low voice, ¡°Alright, what now? I¡¯m thinking that if we can get Bayce going either back home or to the village¡ªwherever she feels safest¡ªI can stay here. A first line of defense.¡± Two things about that statement stood out to me like glaring red lights. ¡°REED,¡± I spelled on a wooden board soaking up snow, ¡°SHE WONT TEAR UP YOUR HOUSE AGAIN.¡± That wasn¡¯t a promise¡ªI, of course, couldn¡¯t make that promise, with Logy as strong and wild as she was. But she had a respect for rules and hierarchy, and if I could keep her believing that her Arkmagus would rather she not destroy the house where her friends lived, or make her friend¡¯s friends not live, then we¡¯d be safe! ¡°AND I DON¡¯T WANT TO HURT YOUR FEELINGS BUT SHE JUST KIDNAPPED U! U CANT FIGHT HER!¡± ¡°I know, but¡ª¡± She caught herself, even shook her head at herself. ¡°But I just wish. I had this fantasy where you and I could fight side by side, and I¡¯d be just as strong as you. Instead, you keep getting better.¡± What? I-I had no idea thoughts like that were whirling in her mind. I mean, deep down I¡¯d been wanting to prove myself to her, and defend her from stuff the way she¡¯d defended me. But now she felt like¡ªlike she was being left behind? But Reed didn¡¯t even like fighting! She only did it because she had to, and then later because I told her to! Before I could figure out what that truly meant, we were interrupted. Thank goodness, because the whole thing made me beyond nervous. Logy had just come down to earth again with translucent, blue-purple wings. Now she looked disarmingly innocent. With a long, delicate comet-trail of dark hair, the fluttering, now-fading wings, and black slippers that touched ground with a softness that didn¡¯t even compact the snow, she could have been a princess. She looked straight at me and made a snapping movement with her arm. I only realized it was a come-here motion when she sent a message seconds later.
Well? Can¡¯t you see me
I gave Reed a quick rub on the ankle, then my best cat-impression of a shooing motion. Bayce wandered over, and just as quickly was led away by Reed as she took her by the hand and whispered some things. Then they were both waving at me, tentatively. ¡°Be back this evening, alright?¡± Reed said, her voice a wobble. ¡°Please don¡¯t bring Logy,¡± Bayce added. ¡°We don¡¯t have enough guest rooms for her, and it¡¯s pretty messy ever since that time she came in and trashed everything.¡± ¡°Um, yes¡­I can confirm that.¡± They stayed close in the Kaug-y cold, weaving between the lower mountains and mini-canyons that made up the northern end as they left. Now I could get straight answers from Logy. Maybe? I mean, it couldn¡¯t be that complicated. It looked like the core of this whole thing was a rescue mission. Huh, maybe I knew other people who could help with that.
Error: Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata is unavailable. Please at least vaguely consider leaving a message. It¡¯s the only real entertainment she has.
I fully expected that kind of result. It just left me numb at this point¡­numb and slightly fantasizing about all the actual good helpful stuff I would be doing if I¡¯d been turned into a goddess and not an animalized human or¡­humanilized cat. Logy turned back to me, no emotion on her face that I could decipher, nothing but a sense of expectation. I set my body due north, then began to saunter off. Several paces away, I turned back to see if she was coming. The least I could do while I was forced into this position was make it work for me¡ªtry to come at it from a place of power, and make all the smaller details work for me. That meant leading her on and being picky about what I shared, and using the chance to explore a little bit. Not too much to worry my cabinmates. Enough to take some tension off. The butterfly girl started after me with stiff-legged steps, as if, now that she¡¯d landed, she hadn¡¯t adjusted to walking on snow. Before she started to communicate again, I wondered why she had to end up in the Vencian Wood around the same time I had. Was it just convenience? Coincidence? Had she searched for me, had Sierra pulled out some cosmic Yellow Pages? Had she really just been any old butterfly with bluish-purple wings that perished in one world and was plopped down here. That was such a nice pattern I¡¯d seen on her wings. Very nice, shiny¡­oddly compelling, maybe even¡­delicious? I involuntarily retched and stuck out my tongue. Then I apologized to her, though I¡¯d never admit it out loud: Sorry for¡­murdering you in our past lives? 114. Memories Already Rushing around in the woods with Logy produced the disarming illusion that being with her could be kind of okay. We went north, me in the form of a cat and her in the form of a butterfly that, if I wasn¡¯t mistaken, I had definitely murdered in my first life. Even in the wordless patches where I was fully intending to explore and ignore her, my gaze ended up drifting toward her shining wings. Not because she was stunningly beautiful or anything, but because¡­shouldn¡¯t she have¡­Evolved, changed form, since then? I dwelled on the thought as we passed into a region of melting snow. Clouds bristled forth from the mountain range behind us, hiding the sun and then skating away so fast that the sky was slowly flashing. Grassy ridges and scrubby trees were leading, I knew, to the savannah with all those silvery ponds further north.
Current Location: Melting Descent (S.A4)
As I snaked my way through and power-walked ahead, feet squelching in wet, melty silt, Logy and I continued our conversation. By that, I mean she fed me information and I stopped in my tracks to reply only when I absolutely couldn¡¯t bear not to. Things would be confusing¡ªthat just seemed like an inevitability. But I was starting to find that giving her time to elaborate before stepping in helped. Probably the hardest part would be relaying what I¡¯d learned to the others back at the cabin. That and descending with Logy into a dungeon even deeper underground than the ruined castle, the likes of which she herself hadn¡¯t even scoped out yet. Luckily-ish, Logy was clearly really strong. Yet she didn¡¯t seem confident in our ability to pull this yet-unnamed Arkmagus out from this chasm. Stopping in the wavering shade of a birch, I pulled out the Spirit Board. ¡°U CAN DO IT ALONE. UR STRONG¡±
You just don¡¯t want to
The butterfly had landed on a thin young branch. I twitched at her words, feeling defensive. ¡°THAT¡¯S TRUE BUT ALSO NOT. YOU ARE LIKE LEVEL 100¡±
87
She would actually admit that?! ¡°YEAH EXACTLY. IM LEVEL 30. THEYLL CRUSH ME. BUT UR HOLDING BACK! U COULD BUST THIS WHOLE FOREST OPEN!!!¡± Instantly I wished I hadn¡¯t said all that¡ªI had to stop giving her ideas. But her concerns were different.
You¡¯ve been getting stronger. You fight and kill and that gives you more Levels I think that¡¯s the way it¡¯s supposed to be. But I lose Levels when I win. I am strong, but I need others to fight for me. I pull back because that is most beneficial. I need to be the support.
A breeze blew past, carrying more cold air. I didn¡¯t know what to make of Logy¡¯s statement here¡ªrather, my mind was making a bunch of things of it, all at once. Disbelief that her System could work that way, a suspicion that she was lying. A weird pity. ¡°THE BOOK SAID WHEN U KILLED A HUMAN,¡± I said, ¡°IN THAT PARK, U FELT DEEP GUILT¡± That was one of the few things in the Book of Sister¡¯s Shadow that¡¯d stuck with me, inspired some early weird pity for her. Now, though, I wondered if¡­
Guilt? I probably thought it was guilt, at first. It turned out that was just me losing Levels Which really hurts
Logy felt no guilt about her lack of guilt. She was, to the umpteenth degree, not settling in well with her butterfly-human role. I hated to think of another living being as some object of contemplation, but half an hour later when she¡¯d finished telling me what she had to tell, and I¡¯d reached a high crest, she flew away, and I watched her go without a single goodbye, feeling introspective about myself more than anything. So much so that if I wasn¡¯t getting an additional Wisdom point or even two by my next level, something was wrong with the world. But seriously¡­that butterfly (or ¡°lepidot¡±? She¡¯d used that word somewhere in there) really wasn¡¯t as much like me as our origin here would suggest, and as the huge book had wanted me to believe. As long as she wouldn¡¯t kill me or anyone else I knew and liked, I didn¡¯t mind helping her. That still surprised me¡ªbut I guessed it was because the mere sight and thought of her wasn¡¯t bringing quite so many thoughts of annoyance and anger to the surface. She was so frustrating, but in a way I now understood. And she¡¯d suggested that she might not live much longer. Could¡¯ve been her digging for pity. I was charitable, though, and I preferred to think not. Once she was gone, I was faced with a fork in the road. Go straight toward the cabin, or maybe address unfinished business here? ¡­Dang, I really should¡¯ve realized this was coming sooner. I could¡¯ve gotten Logy to fly me over. Or even warp¡ªI didn¡¯t mind that stuff¡­ Practically shutting my eyes to the world, I sprinted. Straight north, past warbling goats and rambling fields and through the odd shining pool. I dashed significantly faster than I had when I raced Chora¡ªso much so that I was almost afraid to compete with her again, afraid of my own explosive strength. Not so many minutes later, I crashed into the grove that marked its northern limits. Only then, when I scrabbled to a halt, did I become aware that I¡¯d crossed a whole square, and was panting heavily. I checked my Map and the ever-present Quest.
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 54% (16/30)
Current Location: SQUIRREL REMATCH (S.A2)
Somewhere here was a peculiarly flat stone, sorely weathered. If not for my Map keeping its icon emblazoned on this square, I almost would¡¯ve forgotten its existence. But now I could read. I tracked it down using my Map as a guide, and there on a rock so eroded that its letters were dull almost to obliteration, I read: THIS PLAQUE COMMEMORATES THE FALL OF THE LYCANBORN IN IHE SOUTH VANCIAN WAR. STAND TALL. This thing is misspelled! How was anyone supposed to guess that?! I thought indignantly, before remembering that it was not intended as a guessing game, but a plaque. Once I had puzzled over what those last two words could have been. Now¡ªthough the words weren¡¯t at all directed toward me¡ªthey were surprisingly motivating. There were old, unrelatable concepts of duty and valor loaded in this stone. I couldn¡¯t possibly imagine supporting werewolves who would wage a whole war over, like, the cost of grain while keeping unwilling creatures penned up in their estates.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. But what little I could relate to in here gave me a sort of guiding light. Didn¡¯t I have my own ideas about duty and valor? Keep up a duty to keep my loved ones safe. Be valid¡ªum, valory¡ªvalorous¡ªby doing it well.
Complete!
Quest: Decipher the Path-Sized Stone
Rewards: +Bonus EXP! Bonus Affirmation! +2500 Gold!
2000 EXP went on the books. That would¡¯ve been a monumental amount for me about fifteen Levels ago, but now, well¡­it only pulled me halfway to the next one. Again it was hammering in how far I¡¯d come¡­also the fact that I probably should¡¯ve found a way to come back for this Quest several days ago. These thoughts of EXP made me prick up my ears at the sound of a hawk nearby. It was close to the ground, past this thicket, sounding threatening. I can¡¯t go after that, I thought out of pure instinct. But I shook it off. I can¡¯t tie me down! I decided. I¡¯d gone through enough of these woods today with all my potential prey fleeing from the sight of me, or the speed of me. In the end, it just made me antsy. So I crept closer¡­then wondered if I could apply a tracking marker not to a sight, but a sound. If I could sort of echolocate an enemy¡ªjudge where they were based on a single cry¡ªcouldn¡¯t that work?
Tracking marker failed to apply. No target selected.
Hm, maybe not. Or maybe my aim was just off. The hawk had only sounded off once, after all, and if they were moving, all the other rustles of forest leaves and creatures were getting in the awy. I tried a few more times, using my limited mental mapping skills (Mapless mental mapping skills, that is) to try and target specific areas near me. It was like throwing darts into a void. Every one threw back an error. Then I heard a low swoop that I felt certain could only be that bird. I cast another marker¡ªfailed! Whatever. That was only me messing around. I weaved through the bushes and toward the sound. This hawk was already in combat. I peered out of a bush, scarily close to poking my nose out. The hawk seemed scarily like they were staring at me, but actually their eyes were locked on some foe right next to me. Shifting my head to find out who would just give me away. I focused on that hawk: sleek brown feathers, a yellow beak that hooked and ended in a spear-point of black. Black and white mottling ran through their wings, and the color of their eyes was haunting gray. They only stayed still for a moment. The hawk flipped, whirling backward in a way I would never have expected of the bird. But that¡¯s just what Skills do to animals sometimes: they drastically change whole species¡¯ fighting styles. With more hops and beating, slicing wings, the hawk was launching an all-out assault of long-distance moves not unlike my Air Cutter. These, though, were more solid, like forged weapons made from thin air. All around me, in an area that fanned out from the hawk, I felt the shudders of sliced branches and earth, and a telltale impact of bark against sword. Holding back a yelp, I ducked under a blade that scythed through the top half of my shrub¡ªand clipped my ears. Ow! Not a serious blow, but a surprising one. I backed away, not even caring if I made noise, to take cover behind a thicker tree trunk.
HP 74% (631/855)
SP 1% (5/820)
Darnit, I still had amazingly low SP. I kind of wanted to make a difference in this battle¡ªa hawk right in front of me was too good of a catch, too cool of an opponent, to lose¡ªbut I¡¯d have to do it without relying on any of my old standards. Either that, or use that Debug Blade. No fun and a lot of pain in that. I definitely preferred leaning on what I¡¯d learned from wielding the Blade to actually using it. In fact, maybe that sword was better as a teaching tool than anything, showing me a different style that was more intuitive and less hesitant than my typical self, even when I was at my most impetuous. I was finding out that I didn¡¯t need to analyze in the middle of battle so much¡ªalmost like my baseline Intelligence was high enough that more and more, I would unconsciously do it. Not to be corny, but¡­maybe that blade ¡°debugged¡± my fighting style? Eh? This hawk¡¯s movements were a little like mine, only where the hawk had a grace that was bizarrely humanlike (it must¡¯ve come from only having two feet), I had a habit of whipping my whole slinky body around. I guessed every fighting style could be learned from, but only one was the most ¡°me.¡± I ran forth. When the hawk had their back towards me, I sped out, claws out, and lunged. I didn¡¯t care who else this hawk was fighting or why¡ªas often happens in the wild. As soon as I was in range, I scored my right paw across their back. The hawk flinched¡ªit drew blood. But even a split second later when I pounced directly onto their back and laid in with all I had, things had changed. The hawk¡¯s back flickered with aura, then a gray and solid shine. My claws weren¡¯t getting through, weren¡¯t making a dent in what was now harder than steel. The hawk flung me off and backward. I cried out in surprise, but at least I shifted my roll so I ended up back on my feet. Then I snarled. A different, tinier yelp followed. From somewhere next to me. I knew what it was by sound: a squirrel, still young. Was I defending the defenseless here? It shouldn¡¯t have mattered, on one hand; a battle is a battle is a battle, and I didn¡¯t start this to feel like a hero. Then again, feeling like a hero felt good. I was expecting the hawk to turn towards me, or maybe do some more acrobatics. Instead, they simply reached back with both wings, used whatever steel-feathers Skill they had in their arsenal, and clanged them like twin sabers. Instead of a shockwave or two, a pulse streamed out from all directions, rattling me to the bone.
HP 64% (546/855)
It shaved off about a tenth of my HP. Not bad in theory, but when I considered that the attack didn¡¯t need to be aimed¡­and how its echoes were shaking the treetops high above¡­ The baby squirrel yelped again, and I heard it flee into thicker foliage. Well, it¡¯d better hope that foliage didn¡¯t get sliced by even more flying blades! Meanwhile, the hawk drew its wings forward again, ready for another clap. I¡¯d ignore it. Don¡¯t worry about what you can¡¯t dodge, I figured. I just darted into a new position, getting beside the hawk¡­ Their wings clashed again. I felt the sonic echo threatening to turn my bones into jelly, and jumped forward anyway. Now, the hawk was about my size, a little bigger. Not huge, aside from its wingspan. As I jumped, one of my paws ended up behind the hawk and the other in front. In a dream scenario, I could crash into the hawk, bowl them over, and pin them down¡ªbut at this size, that wasn¡¯t likely. Instead, I hooked paws into either side. Maybe my weight could knock them over and at least disrupt things. My claws met flesh, but were disrupted by a metallic flash, as if the hawk had used that Skill only in the middle of my attack. And while my weight made the hawk wobble, they didn¡¯t topple over¡ªthey lurched straight into more acrobatics, doing a kind of bird-cartwheel that shook me off. I crashed onto my back. A wing-beaten blade hurtled toward me, then another. I zigzag-rolled my head, then torso away from both. They exploded against the ground, and I almost choked on the dust. I didn¡¯t really mind the setbacks. I simply decided to play more evasively, only coming in to strike when the hawk was distracted. Apparently, they couldn¡¯t attack and fortify themself at the same time. We seemed to be matched in acrobatics¡ªwell, frankly they had me beat¡ªso I would need brains. What brains I had. The swoop of a much larger jump filled my ears. A spread-shot of feathers sang through the air, raining down on me, too fast for me to defend against. And there was no dodging these¡ªjust like how I couldn¡¯t dodge raindrops. Four feathers ticked into my back and the base of my tail.
HP 47% (398/855)
Now the ground around me was a maze of hardened feathers. Darn, some of the daggery things were still sticking in me, with no signs of changing back to their old wobbly harmless form. My tail twitched in protest. I wished I could just take a hand and pluck them out, or¡­ Hm, maybe these could be useful, albeit in a pretty ridiculous way. The hawk hadn¡¯t slowed down. They¡¯d landed on the side of a tree, and now they were bringing their wings together again. No you don¡¯t! I thought, suddenly confident I could disrupt them. Clamping my mouth around a steel feather, I then whipped my neck and let go. Cats can throw too! The makeshift kunai flew directly into the hawk¡¯s stomach! ¡­That was the intent, at least. It really just hit the tree. And it didn¡¯t even stick inside. It just bounced off. The hawk successfully did another clang.
HP 37% (317/855)
Alright, no more horrible, horrible experiments. My backup plan¡ªto use my steel-feathered tail like an ankylosaurus¡¯s, only one that was flimsy and harmless everywhere but on the one tail spike¡ªwent out the window. Now that my HP was below half, I wondered if I should use a Spell. After all, that was what I had them for! My Inventory still held three Fires, one Lightning, and a single Attraction Spell. But I settled on making them a more definitive last resort. If my health fell much further, then maybe I could roast the hawk with these Fire Spells. Otherwise, I¡¯d see this as a chance for more physical practice and learn what I could learn. Or maybe this hawk was still too hard for me to beat without any extras? And maybe there was more value in knowing my limits than in speeding way too far past them and double-dying, at a time when I really shouldn¡¯t be leaving my friends to survive alone. As the hawk sprang off the tree and shone with metal luster in the sun, I reshaped my strategy on a dime. A fireball arced right into the hawk¡¯s face¡ªburning skin and melting steel. The bird howled. It had to hurt. 115. Yummers The Fire Spell¡¯s effect on the hawk was even more serious than I¡¯d expected. Not only did the fireball knock them from the sky, it did so by searing through their wings, leaving trails of hot metal. The bird hit the earth, unable to stifle their shriek of pain. I would¡¯ve gone in with more attacks if not for that Fire still burning on their head, across their back and limbs. They struggled to their feet¡­ And literally whipped off the traces of flames. It was one of the coolest things I¡¯d seen: two wings giving the jolt you¡¯d use to shake water off after washing your hands. The blobs of flame and melted metal landed on tree trunks and petered out. Honestly, it would¡¯ve been cooler if the hawk was still in a condition to fight. It wasn¡¯t just their wings that were out of commission. Melting pockmarks ran riot across their body. Still the hawk was giving me a determined glare. They wobbled toward me on feet just strong enough to carry them forward, and with a Skill-less beak and claws, they moved to bite and rend. Great! I switched to more of a wrestling mode. Wrestling was close enough to playfighting that it always served as a good time to experiment, a safer way to test my limits. All the better if the hawk was now kinda-sorta willing to walk into their own demise. The Attack and muscle strength of the hawk was probably equal to mine¡­or would¡¯ve been on a good day, at least. After some scuffling, tumbling, and cringing as I rolled onto those feathers in my back (ouch!), I got my back legs onto the hawk¡¯s chest and flung them straight into a rock. The hawk¡¯s eyes went wide open. Then the animal fell face-first in the grass, the battle won.
Victory!
EXP: 89% (3996/4500)
HP 31% (265/855)
SP 1% (5/820)
Oddly enough, it wasn¡¯t the burst of EXP that made me feel good about the win. It was the reminder of that 1 percent SP. Wandering over to the hawk, I found that they were still breathing, however slowly. Already the feathers and flesh were regrowing¡ªin real time?! This was probably what happened when I went to sleep, but I hadn¡¯t expected the healing process of creatures in the Vencian Wood to be so¡­visible. Then I backed away, and looked around. I¡¯d been unintentionally defending someone in this fight, right? Seconds passed. Then a chittering started. One young squirrel, followed by several others. Half a dozen animals came out of the torn-up bushes, five adults surrounding a child. The band of squirrels stayed well away from the hawk, but as I approached them, they didn¡¯t flinch. Instead, they looked steadily at me, watching with what I decided was respect. I¡¯d once vowed to have a squirrel rematch here, but maybe that wasn¡¯t so big a priority anymore.
Change name of SQUIRREL REMATCH?
Yeah, of course.
Name changed from ¡°SQUIRREL REMATCH¡± to ¡°Squirrelhawk Haven.¡±
Kind of made it sound like squirrel-hawk hybrids lived here, but it didn¡¯t matter, I knew what I meant. *** When I was close to Reed¡¯s cabin again, it was barely scratching evening. I was panting again from another long run. Or, well, I¡¯d wanted it to be ¡°one¡± long run, but the landscape was so varied that I¡¯d done a lot of ducking and dodging, stopping short of crashes, and failing to pivot in time before spotting a fall too big to make in a simple jump and yet too short for me to reliably land on my feet. It had still been a workout. Even if I hadn¡¯t gained any EXP since defeating the steel hawk, I had hopefully gained a little bit of the normal, brain-and-muscley kind of experience. To my surprise, I smelled the cabin before I saw it. Mercifully, that rank old garbage smell was long gone, replaced by the mere hint of garbage that told me nearby raccoons were still receiving their tribute. No¡­more than that, I smelled pastries. Chocolate. Frosting. Caramel. Buttercream. Surely a cat couldn¡¯t eat any of these things. And yet, as I dragged my still-panting body through the thicket, I wondered if I could find a way. Tap the surface of a donut with my tongue, then spit it right back out. That couldn¡¯t hurt me. I sat down. A long fantasy of trying that bewitching chocolate for the first, oh-so-fleeting time wafted through my mind¡ª
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
Please never eat chocolate.
I smiled a devilish smile. Wow, Sierra, I thought you were supposed to be smart or something! Turns out you¡¯re just a gullible loser, I thought-beamed through the Goddess Hotline, and by bullying your own nekomata surrogate children, you take out your insecurities on others!!
Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata has disconnected.
AND THAT¡¯S PROOF!
Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata has reconnected.
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
Ha! Just kidding. I just left for a second because I thought it¡¯d be funny and that you might appreciate the win. Bravo!
Like I believe that.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. So you¡¯re trying to direct-not-direct me to this dungeon where your friend is being held captive, right? What¡¯s the¡ª
Wow, why would I answer the questions of someone who freely insults me and didn¡¯t even create me? It¡¯s not like you can strike me down at any moment.
Um¡­ I shifted uncomfortably. I do this because being nice to you doesn¡¯t usually get results.
¡­Y¡¯know, usually the nekomatas I¡¯d summon would be harsher and more resistant than you. I tended to pick either the cat equivalents of alpha wolves or the snarkiest-and-yet-laziest housecats. You, though¡­you have it in you to be genuinely nice, and (here¡¯s the difference) you know it. You¡¯re like the most na?ve and least intelligent catgirl I¡¯ve ever launched into existence, and the kindest, and there¡¯s really not much more of value I can say to you. Except that I get genuinely frightened when you even threaten to eat chocolate. Geez.
I squinted, fully aware that I was squinting into a box, which was tantamount to squinting into thin air. But¡­you¡¯d just bring me back to life?
Once, maybe! Or even twice! But Arkmagus powers have a limit, and if you happen to like eating literal poison¡­that means you¡¯ll be dying more than twice.
Inwardly, I decided that I certainly would try chocolate and spit it out. Whether or not Sierra intended to be hyping it up, she really was just hyping it up.
NO
I advanced on the cabin, already envisioning my pastries, my targets. Lights in the kitchen and the den were already on, beaming a little cheer to the forest around. I walked up to the front door, knocked hard enough with my paw that it could¡¯ve been a knuckle, and meowed loud. Familiar clacking footsteps came pattering up to the door. Then Bayce flung it open, looking simultaneously tired yet energized¡ªpushing through a desire to nap. ¡°Taipha!¡± she shouted. ¡°Taipha!¡± cried a very Reed-like voice in the busy kitchen. ¡°Come in! Rest! You can sleep upstairs if you need to!¡± ¡°Oh, she doesn¡¯t wanna rest,¡± Bayce cried over her shoulder. Before I could react with confusion, she said, ¡°She just wants to eat some treats, as a coping mechanism, just like the rest of us.¡± ¡°Hey, don¡¯t call it that! You can make sweets anytime!¡± ¡°That¡¯s just proof that we need constant coping.¡± I meowed, opening my mouth exceedingly wide. ¡°¡­I¡¯m clearly not holding any treats for you, can you save it for when we¡¯re inside? I know you don¡¯t want me to scritch your uvula.¡± I agreed, and she backed away to let me in through the short, thin hall. The den wasn¡¯t a lumpen lair of pillows and thick blankets like it had been on a certain late night. It was simply a lounge, with a couple of books sitting on either couch. I also glimpsed some larger, grayish papers sitting on the hearth (and luckily not in the fire). Maybe a newspaper? But I had more interest in veering away toward the kitchen. Seeing certain places on shelves and counters empty where there should have been vases and decorative plates still rankled me, but it seemed Reed had already started replacing what was lost¡ªas well as could be done. A couple of figurines I recognized from upstairs had come down, a ram here and a frog there. Sure, I had a lot of important things to tell them after meeting in private with the shady lepidot, but it could wait just a little bit. So could that lovely hairpin I found and wanted to give away to someone worthy. Gosh, all these little and massive things I had to remember! But how can you bring up anything when people are making¡­treats? Reed was shuffling through the kitchen in a busy flow that Bayce carefully, tentatively reentered¡­only to come back out a minute later after Reed told her, as politely as possible, that she¡¯d take out that tray because she had the good mitts. When Bayce emerged again, she was holding a cupcake in one hand. A chocolate one, with a swirly dollop of frosting on top. ¡°We just finished these ones,¡± she told me. ¡°Reed did, um, pretty much everything except the frosting. I¡¯ve got those steady hands.¡± I stared. My eyes became like dinner plates. Bayce stood there, not budging at all. She smirked, almost the same way I had when my false-but-maybe-not-so-false fantasies of eating this very same chocolate coaxed Sierra out of hiding. ¡°Are you gonna ask for it?¡± ¡°Bayce,¡± Reed called out, ¡°don¡¯t you know most animals are allergic to chocolate? That¡¯s why we made the rolls!¡± The witch slapped a hand to her forehead. ¡°Oh, shoot! I forgot! No, we¡¯re not killing you tonight.¡± Immediately she flung the entire cupcake into her mouth, paper and all. I would¡¯ve assumed she did that with perfect comic timing on purpose, just to goad me further, but the way she ran upstairs not even waiting for my reaction¡­suggested otherwise. When she returned, it was with a few surprises. One was a box of things like tiny index cards. The other was a guitar, which she held at one end like a bludgeon. ¡°Here,¡± she said, squatting before me and cradling the box in both hands. I sniffed the rows of cards below me. A baffling flood filled my nose¡ªsomething like a feast. ¡°You can¡¯t eat it, but you can try it. Sorry, we didn¡¯t want you to feel left out, and I really messed up.¡± I shook my head lightly, and looked into her face with compassion. As she pulled out a brownish card that, as I now realized, was about the size of a human tongue, my mind was already running to distant planes, to scarcely imaginable islands of flavor. Bayce pulled out the chocolate card, held it out to me so I could bite down and take it, and as it dissolved, revealing its secrets¡­ Okay, the real joke was the idea that I liked sweet things. Or could even tolerate them. Being a nekomata for as long as I had¡­adapting bit by bit to Vencian human culture¡­it was apparently all for naught. It couldn¡¯t make me like chocolate. At first, I just winced. The wince was so deep, so bracing, that it stretched my lips painfully across my teeth. I had to fidget just to distract myself from the chocolate flavor: a nauseous cloud of sweet on a foundation of bitter, a pang of milk that only struck me as sour, a maelstrom that, that¡­ Something inside of me shifted. My throat shuddered. I needed to get upstairs or onto the lawn as fast as possible, and yet my limbs, though they kept me standing, had practically turned to jelly. ¡°Ecch!¡± I rasped. ¡°Ecch! Yecch!¡± Bayce reacted with utter terror¡ªand paralysis! The worst thing possible! ¡°Oh god, what¡¯s happening?¡± she murmured. Perhaps my deepest regret in this moment was having cleaned myself as much as I had. Not because licking the hairs all over my body ¡°is gross¡± (it¡¯s way less gross than being coated in forest stuff full-time, and layers and layers of it), but because I¡¯d been doing just as much self-cleaning lately as I had when I first appeared in Vencia. Yet I had never coughed up a hairball once. And now a hairball of astounding size was being set free, thanks to the stomach-gyrating power of the horrific chocolate taste. ¡°Ecch! Yecch! Eargh!¡± Bayce, without even calling out to Reed, or picking me up so she could toss me in the bathtub, ran up the stairs! NO, TAKE ME WITH YOU! I had rarely felt so alone in my life. A minute later, Bayce ¡°solved¡± the problem by coming back with a thin towel and sliding it under my chin, in the vomit zone. No towel would have been thick enough. 116. Some Puzzles You Can Eat Not far from a mop and bucket, a dish had been filled with more flavor cards. ¡°Mint, speckleberry, alpine grape, caramel, buttermilk, quartz. It¡¯s all there!¡± Bayce said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about what happened with the chocolate, but surely there¡¯s something in here you find less gross.¡± ¡°THX BUT NO THX,¡± I spelled on a board that sat with me on a sofa. My body was still drained from deep, sneak-up-from-behind nausea, and once I¡¯d sent the message, I flopped forward and yawned. ¡°That¡¯s fine, no trouble.¡± Bayce filed the cards away, but not before sliding one in her mouth. I shuddered. Reed came trotting over with a cat-sized tub of steaming water. I reeled¡ªmy instincts told me she was about to dunk me inside in the name of healing. Instead, she took out a washcloth, squeezed it out, and turned back to me. ¡°There are healing salts in this, maybe it can¡­oh, wait¡­I¡¯m not sure you like water.¡± I rolled over to spell. ¡°ITS FINE,¡± I said. ¡°DO IT¡± She dabbed at my face with the cloth, and for once, the water evaporating off my forehead wasn¡¯t just cooling, but reinvigorating. If I wasn¡¯t mistaken, so was the steam filling my nose from the tub. Was it really just, like, standard Epsom salt, or a magical blend you¡¯d only find in Vencia? She also offered cinnamon rolls to me. The idea of food made me gag. ¡°Or would you prefer rabbi¡ª¡± I hissed her quiet. While I didn¡¯t mean to come off so snappy, I just¡­no thank you. For the past few minutes, three strange and as-yet-unexplored things had been lingering around: I hadn¡¯t brought up our ¡°wonderful time¡± with the lepidot, Bayce hadn¡¯t brought up any of the cantrips we¡¯d discussed lately, and a mysterious guitar had been sitting around. Now, as Reed sat nervously next to me and Bayce sat across from us, one piece of the puzzle came into play at last. If she¡¯d played the bass guitar years and years ago at the Coming of the Moon, I could only imagine how good she¡¯d be on that guitar by her ankle now. ¡°This¡¯ll help soothe you,¡± she said, bringing her legs up to sit criss-cross, guitar on her lap. She gave the strings some experimental plucks, a few scratches with long fingernails, and then strummed¡­ She was just whacking the strings. There was no attempt to sound good or melodic, and Bayce knew it, bobbing herkily-jerkily to the herky-jerky beat. Reed turned to me with concern. She raised her voice to say, ¡°Do you want me to cover your ears?¡± I shook my head. Yes, this did slightly hurt my brain¡­but I was perversely interested. Apparently Reed got tired of it before I did. She reached for the guitar, right over the tub of Epsom salt water, and almost fell in. Bayce cackled and pulled the intsrument away¡ªthey were both laughing. I had enough strength to rise and pul the Spirit Board closer to me. ¡°BAYCE WHY ARENT U GOOD AT THIS???? CHORA SAID U ALL¡­WAIT WHERES CHORA¡± ¡°Remember she went to the village?¡± Bayce said. The guitar was still hoisted over her head. Reed had frozen mid-reach. ¡°It has been a few days, but that¡¯s not unusual. She¡¯s likely gathering information, and more of it than she expected to find.¡± ¡°What¡¯s it matter? The gray powder is gone, it¡¯s dissipated. We¡¯re all having fun now. The good cheer of a warm house, the enchanting smells of Reed¡¯s expertly crafted baked goo¡ªI mean, non-nauseating products¡­¡± Bayce¡¯s nose took in a theatrical breath. ¡°And the briny smell of the sea, kind of¡­¡± She sat back again, putting the guitar in her lap. ¡°She¡¯s fine where she is. Come to think of it, she may have found another place.¡± ¡°Um¡­¡± Reed winced. ¡°Sure, she might have. But she¡¯s fully welcome here.¡± Bayce blew some pesky strands of hair out of her face. ¡°Pff. Whatever. She¡¯ll be here if she¡¯ll be here.¡± In the past, I¡¯d wondered if Chora and Bayce would be more relaxed and a bit easier to get along with if they weren¡¯t staying with each other, getting in each other¡¯s way. Since then, I¡¯d realized that no, it was a constant sticking point. Well, maybe for them, it was just business as usual. But it was a thorn in my side, and I wasn¡¯t even supposed to be involved. The more it happened, the less I could stand it. Yet¡­there was nothing I could do about it, was there? ¡°So this guitar.¡± Bayce pulled our attention back. ¡°It¡¯s not mine. I thought you¡¯d know by the smear of pink paint over here and¡­here.¡± ¡°Accidental,¡± Reed threw in. ¡°THE STAINS LOOK GOOD THO. SOMEHOW¡± Bayce chuckled. ¡°¡®Stains¡¯? That¡¯s low. I bet all wild animals think of most art as a series of stains.¡± ¡°NO WE DONT!!!¡± I said indignantly. ¡°ART IS¡­SOME OF IT IS STAINS. OK ITS TRUE. BUT REED PAINTS FEELINGS AND ENERGY AND HER ANIMALS LOOK LIKE ANIMALS¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± Reed said with a bashful bow. Then she cried out¡ªand I ducked¡ªas Bayce lobbed the guitar across the table at her. ¡°Yipe!¡± Her hands scrambled to hold it¡­but once they did, their hold on the instrument was so natural. I glared at her. ¡°REED HOW MANY TALENTS DO U HAV¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Reed wouldn¡¯t answer, only giggling and looking frantically in any direction but at me and Bayce. Meanwhile, Bayce rattled things off: ¡°Carpentry, plumbing, anything considered ¡®home ec,¡¯ swordplay, fencing, foundational gymnastics. Childhood farm stuff. That and she knows a lot about art and games. I think we all wish we could marry her.¡± ¡°H-hey!¡± Reed cried as if the whole speech had been a litany of insults. ¡°Most of that stuff is only foundational! I just have a lot of spare time in the woods, alright? I¡¯m not a mage, for instance. And I¡¯m not an academic. It¡¯s not like I¡¯ve done any one thing with¡­dedication.¡± Bayce shrugged and grinned. ¡°One skill you don¡¯t have is the power to take a compliment.¡± ¡°U CAN WORK ON IT!¡± ¡°Now, play something!¡± The two of them waffled around a bit more, Reed hesitant to show her skills after years of disuse (and without a guitar pick). But eventually, Bayce tossed her a pick and Reed sighed deeply. ¡°Here it goes,¡± she said. Finally, a non-horrible new sensory experience today. Reed began to play. The sound was simple, stripped-down, even earthy, and the twang of the strings under her swaying fingers was¡­well¡­I just ran out of truthful compliments. O-on second thought, the melody was there, just buried under lots of stumbles. Like the tune was too fast and had too many notes, and her mind had only pulled half of them out of storage. Thirty second in, she stopped with an outpouring of embarrassed laughter. Bayce laughed along. Rude! As Reed set the guitar away on the floor, I rubbed against her leg, trying to pluck up her spirits. I wasn¡¯t sure if I succeeded or not, because the next thing that happened was Reed rushing off to the kitchen. The last phase of pastries was done, and now that I felt less queasy, I gave permission for it to be brought to the den table. Everything could now be dished out and brought over in a buffet so blatantly big that all three of us¡ªfour of us¡ªcouldn¡¯t finish it. Not even in three days. But the sight was still beautiful. All the confections and spires of frosting stacked into three towers across three platters. And the cinnamon rolls reserved for me had a place of honor! ¡°Let¡¯s eat,¡± Reed said with conviction, ¡°and let¡¯s goof off, and then let¡¯s talk about something important.¡± *** ¡°¡­so you see, it¡¯s really not that complicated once you start playing. All the scary big numbers are there to facilitate the journey!¡± ¡°As long as you are unafraid to explain the rules fifty times,¡± Bayce said, finishing a pastry filled with a frosting that smelled like rose, ¡°then yes, I will play it with you sometime.¡± Reed pouted. ¡°You don¡¯t seem very enthusiastic.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you have other games? Like, I¡¯ve been waiting for something that uses figures, and a board. Didn¡¯t we used to play stuff like that?¡± ¡°Well, storygames can use a board as a player aid, but then players¡¯ imaginations can¡¯t¡­¡± I listened to the back-and-forth. Pleasant memories of the time I played a game with Reed came back to me¡ªit went without saying that as long as she was running it, I¡¯d try any game once. When the conversation died down with Bayce making a noncommittal noncommitment to maybe playing Cross-Universal Star Crashers, they turned to business. ¡°Taipha,¡± Bayce said, ¡°you¡¯ve been suspiciously silent. Could it be because you were unable to retrieve all the parts for the hand-eye coordination cantrip?¡± ¡°Mroww,¡± I said, shaking my head. She was only half-right. Truth be told, that cantrip no longer seemed so important to me. Certainly it¡¯d have its edge cases, but if its main purposes were to help me manipulate a painful sword in humanoid form, write better notes, and unlock doors, missing a single ingredient for who-knows-how-long didn¡¯t bother me so much. ¡°I GOT EVERYTHING,¡± I said, ¡°EXCEPT VINES. DIDNT SEE A SINGLE FLYTRAP! WHERE R THEY???¡± ¡°Uh, didn¡¯t you go northeast?¡± ¡°YEAH OF COURSE! ¡­WAIT NO, KINDA JUST WENT EAST¡± ¡°There¡¯s your problem.¡± ¡°What about the other one?¡± Reed said. ¡°Right. The intelligence cantrip!¡± Bayce whipped it out, quite literally. It hit the table and barely avoided smacking against a miniature custard pie. ¡°Sorry if it¡¯s a bit low-impact and not that stylish. This was more a test to make sure that, you know, it actually works without giving you brain damage. Give it a try when you¡¯re ready.¡± With my paw, I dragged it over. The cantrip would snap around my neck, much like the first one, but instead of a gemstone, it bore a few cockleshells and one half of an exceedingly small clamshell in the middle. I put it on and checked my Stats. It remained to be seen whether this would work in combination with the Debug Blade, and I wasn¡¯t quite ready to try that, but this was a start:
INT 98 (+5)
So the cantrip gave me a flat boost. As long as that applied after the Debug Blade subtracted points, that was perfect! Well, 5 points in a Stat was never ¡°perfect,¡± but you win some, you lose some. That being said, it would all be for naught if wearing this just ended up giving me its own headache. Then stacking the two would just provide me a double headache, and I¡¯d be recovering for about eight hours after prolonged use instead of four. So to try and rule that out, I¡¯d wear this cantrip for at least a day straight and see what happened. ¡°IT WORKS GREAT!¡± I told Bayce. ¡°UR INCREDIBLE¡± ¡°Thanks! Can you do algebra now?¡± ¡°STILL NO¡± We moved on to the more nerve-wracking subject of what-all Logy did and what the heck to do about it. Fortunately, we weren¡¯t as anxious about the subject as we¡¯d been before. It was distant, literally, and I also got the feeling that Reed and Bayce were confident I¡¯d get strong enough to take her on if she did happen to reappear. Probably too confident? ¡°SHE WAS REINCARNATED FROM EARTH. LIKE ME. BUT MORE EVIL, ALTHO I DONT RLY THINK SHES TRYING TO BE EVIL. JUST RLY SUCKS AT BEING GOOD. ANYWAY SHE WANTS ME TO HELP SAVE HER ARKMAGUS, WHOS TRAPPED BENEATH THE FOREST. AND I DONT THINK THEY CAN TALK TO EACH OTHER. SINCE SHE SAID HER SYSTEM IS BROKEN, W/EV THAT MEANS, AND THAT HER ARKMAGUS LEFT HER INSTRUCTIONS INSTEAD OF JUST¡­SAYING THEM¡± Reed was stern: ¡°What does this mean for you?¡± I hesitated. ¡°SHE WANTS ME TO HELP HER FIGHT DOWN HERE N THATS IT¡± ¡°You¡¯re going to do it?¡± ¡°I DONT HAVE A CHOICE¡± ¡°Yes you do. You need to remember that there are people Bayce and I can call on to help you, people who are stronger than all of us combined. We have contact with my advance mage mom and other people at her university¡ªit¡¯s their off season. As soon as I tell them how overwhelmed we are, they¡¯ll be here. We even have DeGalle. Taipha, people are getting actively invested in this¡­this mess. It¡¯s shaping up to be a mess.¡± Bayce looked pensive. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Reed. If we misjudge the danger here and pull tons and tons of people in, either Taipha and Logy will just kill the villains themselves really quickly, or tons and tons of people will die.¡± ¡°Alright, fine.¡± Reed sounded surprisingly frustrated by this¡ªlike she didn¡¯t want to brook any argument, for fear she might explode. ¡°We¡¯ll continue this thread once we have at least a taste of how strong the threats underneath the Vencian Wood are. Or even what they are. Does she know?¡± ¡°SHE DOESNT KNOW. WELL, SHE SAID EVIL PLANTS, EVIL FISH¡± By the look on Reed¡¯s face, I could tell she wanted to complain about how unhelpful that was. ¡°When do you see her again? Do you know?¡± ¡°WANTS TO SPAR WITH ME TOMORROW. OUTSIDE THIS TIME¡± That in itself was an uncomfortable idea, on account of her being able to murder me. ¡°¡­When she visits you, tell her to learn more,¡± said Reed. ¡°Command her to.¡± I nodded. I¡¯d do my best. 117. Soft Creatures It hadn¡¯t hit me, not until now, when night had fallen and the only cabin sounds were the humdrum noises of people cleaning up: Reed was alive. She was alright. And though I wouldn¡¯t have blamed her for it, she wasn¡¯t crumpling in fear, reeling from the shock of the most unexpected kidnapping I could conceive of. She seemed to have utter faith in me, too. I watched pathetically from the couch in the den as she and Bayce tidied up the kitchen, sliding rags along blotch-stained countertops. Even now I had single-digit SP from today¡¯s long journey, and even if I did Morph to help, I still had clumsy hands. With the place cleaned and the leftover treats all loaded into storage, Bayce wiped her forehead and gave an exaggerated sigh. ¡°Do you mind if I spend the night studying? I¡¯m not ready to play any games with¡­numbers.¡± ¡°No, that¡¯s perfect! I wasn¡¯t in the mood to play anything tonight either.¡± As lights dimmed in the kitchen, I uncurled and stretched. And I thought about it all. Reed and my other cabin friends had every right to be panicked and hostile towards me, but even Bayce¡ªthe only one who¡¯d suggested that maybe me leaving this house would be for the best¡ªwas very cool-headed about it. It was a level of trust I found almost¡­overwhelming. And baffling. They were my friends. My first friends. Yet I wouldn¡¯t have blamed anyone for leaving all this incoming, raw and unknown danger up to me and me alone to handle. A heel scuffed on the floor by the sofa. I looked up. Bayce smirked. ¡°You alright down here?¡± I had the spirit board next to me. ¡°ITS OK. DONT THINK LOGY WILL BE COMING BACK THAT WAY¡± ¡°Well, alright, but we don¡¯t mind checking on you.¡± Reed came back from the dark kitchen. The fireplace was also out. Now the only light was a weak lantern on the mantelpiece. ¡°Some human like to sleep with an object they cherish,¡± she said. ¡°That could be a toy, or¡­for me, it was a pencil. I¡¯d keep it under my pillow during storms as a kid and try to focus my mind on that if I got scared.¡± Bayce clicked her tongue. ¡°That¡¯s weird, Reed. For most kids, it¡¯s just a bear or a nightlight.¡± ¡°Non-kids do this too,¡± Reed added very deliberately. I turned the offer down, though I did appreciate it. The concept of holding some comfortable thing to sleep better wasn¡¯t that weird to me. Not anymore, at least. I felt I understood why these humans liked sleeping in huge blankets, even though it was summer and presumably they got really sweaty, or threw them off against the wall in their sleep. Soft things were reassuring sometimes. Uh, not to inadvertently call Possy a soft ¡°thing.¡± In that case¡­soft things and creatures. It still felt too odd to ask if I could sleep in Reed¡¯s room¡­and now another old, totally different insecurity was floating back. Reed was weaker than me and yet wanted to protect me. No, I just realized it must¡¯ve been worse¡ªI¡¯d been attacked in her own home and she¡¯d done nothing about it! Granted, it made total sense why she hadn¡¯t¡ªno one else had even been awake¡ªbut she had to feel some type of way about that. Maybe me being in her room would just remind her of that. But wouldn¡¯t you know it, the moment Reed turned off the lantern, I regretted not having asked her to follow. Feet padded up the stairs. Bayce got to her studying, and Reed, I was sure, was ready to dive-bomb into bed and sleep a long, exhausted day away. Except she didn¡¯t. One Catnap later and she was still up. I could hear it: not only the familiar sounds of Bayce¡¯s chair scratching across the floor every now and then, but the patter and commotion of something else. Like Reed was lugging things around upstairs. Though she was trying to keep it quiet, judging by the lack of huge thuds, I heard much more than humans realized.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. This was my chance. I left my makeshift bed and slinked upstairs. Low candlelight poured from two rooms: Reed¡¯s and Chora¡¯s. I popped my head over the top stair just as Reed came out from her room toting a big clipboard and a small briefcase. I meowed. It was still the best greeting I knew when spelling wasn¡¯t an option. ¡°H-hi,¡± she whispered, setting the things down carefully. ¡°I was just going to spend some time on the roof.¡± Then she started to defend herself, as if she needed to: ¡°I haven¡¯t been up there at night in several months, and I don¡¯t think it¡¯d be wise for me to leave on a hike right now, so, um¡­¡± Without a word (or a meow), I hopped over, heading for the hatch in Chora¡¯s room. A sign on the open door said, with Chora-like committed capitals, ¡°Go Ahead.¡± I sat and waited by the bottom of the ladder, in case she¡¯d turn me down or reject me. She didn¡¯t, and led the way onto the roof. While there had been exercise equipment littering the place since I first got here, it had never felt messy, and there was ample free space. Reed unfolded a table that had already been here, lying on the deck, and began adding all the shadowy things she¡¯d brought up here. Above us was the cosmos. Dimly I could see the stars, through thin but total cloud cover. It goes without saying but is fun to repeat: even in haze, or before rain, the stars never shone so bright or so numerous over an Earth city as they had over Vencia. An ordinary candle was lit, to stand guard at the far corner of Reed¡¯s drawing table. She sat resting the clipboard on the table¡¯s edge, the briefcase open and overflowing with drawing tools, holding down spare papers and old drawings so they wouldn¡¯t fly away in a breeze. Inhabiting the rest of the table were herds of her wooden figures. I took a seat beside the table, looking up. Not just pencils, but sticks of gray stuff, crayons, pastels, waxy styluses, and chalk nubs spilled out of the case. Reed took a stick, maybe charcoal or lead, and prepared to attack her canvas¡­when she turned to me. ¡°I just realized you can¡¯t say anything in the dark.¡± I blinked. Darn, she was right, and her candle was really bad for this specific situation. I wasn¡¯t even sure she could see any part of me but my eyes! But, well, I just calmly shook my head. The important thing right now wasn¡¯t to tell her any particular thing. It was to spend time in company with her, and in some way that wouldn¡¯t make either of us worry¡ªnot Reed that she was incapable, not me that I was alone. ¡°I¡¯m going to draw for at least an hour,¡± she said, biting her lip. ¡°In total silence. You don¡¯t have to stay for that.¡± Yes I do, I thought, and I remembered how sometimes words only got in the way. Apparently true for all species. ¡°Meow!¡± I said, cheerful and bright. I didn¡¯t need much light to see her hard at work as she sketched, sometimes taking inspiration from the figures on the table, other times drawing from her own imagination. She moved in fits and starts, often with huge, whole-arm strokes and whirls. Canvases filled with animals: bears, raccoons, groundhogs, drawn in black on a light-gray sheet, with a dash of white and earth-toned pastels. Some had the simplified touches of the wooden models. Others could have popped out of life. Having napped just a few minutes before this started, I didn¡¯t feel any need to sleep. I watched with rapt attention, mentally naming the creatures she made, following the arcs of her arm or the concentrated scratches that made animal fur. Tension floated away as the night drifted on. Reed was truly at home, it seemed, when she was concentrating on her work. Her shoulders relaxed, and the anxiety I saw all too often in her gaze melted. It all became air and water, rhythmic movement, the waves of her body like the eddies of her soul¡­ My focus wavered. I went from watching her work to watching her. The change was hypnotizing. Candlelight seemed to glow brighter, and suddenly I was adrift on a peach-pink sea, in the water that used to chill and shock me, just wishing I could stay. ¡­That was the first time I¡¯d fallen asleep while still upright. Aw, darnit, there was even drool hanging out the corner of my mouth. I slapped it away, which somehow worked. The night was just as dark as it had been before. Reed was still on her first candle. And regardless of how I was doing, she hadn¡¯t tired at all. Truth be told, I didn¡¯t mind falling asleep in her company. I kinda wished I¡¯d seen it coming, but that was more ¡°animal vigilance¡± than anything. I hadn¡¯t dozed because I was bored, but because I was enchanted. In fact, the only thing that could make this better would be¡­ Hm. No, not that. Reed¡¯s lap was currently holding one edge of the clipboard. And no, I couldn¡¯t wrap an arm around her as I watched¡ªnot much of my SP had regenerated. I¡¯d settle for jumping onto the spot right next to her and curling up by her side. She didn¡¯t even notice me until I, seeing her pause between drawings, nuzzled her elbow. ¡°Ah!¡± she cried out. She flinched. I flinched! But soon she gave me a welcoming rub down my back. Then she continued to draw, and if I wasn¡¯t mistaken, her latest subject was a cat. 118. Interview with a Kind of God A black bird with a featherless head wheeled around in the sky above. Normally, this was behavior for condors who sighted victims or corpses. Here, though, all it meant was that the condor had a message for us, and maybe some non-murderous business to attend to. The cloud cover of the night before had fled to the south. What remained was a beautiful sun that¡¯d convinced Reed to serve breakfast outside, on towels and cushions. The black bird¡¯s path obscured the sun, and that was when we saw him. Granted. Bayce had been on the alert for almost a minute now, feeling what she could only describe as ¡°a presence.¡± But once she saw who it was, she no longer seemed worried. Only on alert. Reed and Bayce stood at attention, and when they saw Murder coming in for a landing, they hurried to meet him. I followed. Was he here to give us another mission, like the first time I¡¯d encountered him? My throat tightened at the idea. Sure, Reed had dealt with the evil spirit that time, with some mysterious help from Murder, but there was no telling what passed through the Vencian Wood, or how strong it was, or what it desired. Or maybe he¡¯d be giving us a mission that wasn¡¯t entirely new, that involved Logy. It wouldn¡¯t be surprising. And yet I was just sympathetic enough toward her that killing her¡ªif that was what had to happen¡ªwouldn¡¯t be ¡°a relief.¡± Both cabinmates held an arm out to Murder. He looked at one, then the other, with silence and the shaking of an old man. Then, roughly and with great talons, he jumped up onto Reed¡¯s arm. Fluttering his enormous wings to gain balance, he forced Bayce backward. When he was steady, I noticed that the color had drained from Reed¡¯s eyes, just as that ranger Donovan¡¯s eyes had been. It was hard not to worry about someone when they looked like that. Almost like Murder was an old, small god. Now Reed and Murder were simply¡­there, fidgeting every now and then but otherwise unresponsive to the world. Bayce sidled over to me, kneeled down, and whispered, ¡°This is Murder. He looks and sounds really dangerous, but that¡¯s only to intimidate evil.¡± ¡°WEVE MET,¡± I spelled out. ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°WHAT REALLY IS HE? ¡­ALSO IS THAT RUDE?¡± ¡°It¡¯s extremely rude, but it¡¯s fine,¡± Bayce said with a twitch of a smirk. ¡°He knows that a mythical beast like you might have different norms. Murder guards the Wood and the village. If something¡¯s amiss, he generally knows about it.¡± ¡°DEGALLE?¡± ¡°Yeah!¡± He and Reed still stood eerily in place, their four eyes distant. ¡°UM¡­SORRY IF THIS IS JUST TOO RUDE, BUT DOES MURDER DO ANYTHING HIMSELF?¡± Bayce furrowed her brows for a moment. It was actually a little scary. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s even more rude,¡± she admitted. ¡°It¡¯s the classical role of a Vencian guardian. He gathers information and shares what he deems helpful so that the humans who consider themselves custodians of this land can act. If he used too much of his power, he¡¯d die.¡± ¡°OH¡± Suddenly a caw escaped the condor¡¯s beak. He fluttered off of Reed¡¯s arm and back onto the grass. Reed spent several moments wiping her eyes and blinking something away. Then she turned to us. ¡°First of all, Chora¡¯s coming. She should be here soon, in about an hour or two.¡± She held a hand to her temple and seemed to be staring beyond the forest. ¡°¡­Wow, that¡¯s a lot of people.¡± Bayce made a ¡°come on¡± motion. ¡°Let¡¯s maybe help Taipha out? She¡¯s scared and confused.¡± Hey, I wouldn¡¯t deny it. It was always weird and instinctively frightening, seeing this condor interact with and leave his mark on humans. ¡°Oh, right¡­ When someone communicates directly with Murder, they don¡¯t exactly use words. They can pass along images, and he sent a few images to me, some of which I¡­didn¡¯t open up and examine until now.¡± ¡°NOW IM MORE SCARED,¡± I said. ¡°S-sorry! It¡¯s nothing like that, w-whatever you¡¯re thinking.¡± She brushed her hair back. ¡°Alright, so there was a big assembly at Outlast, and DeGalle was there. Things grew heated, but it¡¯s all under control now. They might even be¡­cooperating?¡± She shook her head. ¡°Chora can tell us more specifically. But there¡¯s something, um, more important, right now.¡± Reed turned to me, all while the condor patiently waited, shifting and running a beak through his feathers like any bird. ¡°Murder asked me questions about you that I couldn¡¯t answer.¡± That gave my imagination way too much free rein. What kinds of ominous questions did he ask her? ¡°To talk to Murder, you don¡¯t need to hold out a wrist. You just¡­well, you need to be prepared for it to hurt.¡± ¡°That¡¯s how it happens with holy things,¡± Bayce said. ¡°It used to be blood sacrifices.¡± ¡°Actually, in some places it still is that¡­¡± Nothing about their chatter was helping! At all! In fact, the more they talked and the longer I stood here watching them, the more my nerves screamed. Wait, said my Wisdom. Calm down and face the condor. Instead of replying to my friends, I looked straight ahead. I pushed away the thought of get it over with and tried to fill myself with the solemnity that dealing with a guardian like a god seemed to require. A solemnity that, funny enough, I¡¯d never given the actual minor gods in my life. You just felt more awe with the creatures and things that were deeper mysteries.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. I wasn¡¯t quite sure what those talons would grab onto, or even could. Then I kneeled as well as a cat could, sitting and lowering my head. I closed my eyes. Feathers ruffled past and then around me. Any moment now I would feel talons grip me, leaving the dark marks of old aura he¡¯d surely left on Donovan and Reed¡¯s skin. Instead of feeling the grip, I felt a stinging pain all over. Only for an instant. Then I felt nothing. I might as well have blacked out, except that my consciousness was still fully awake. In fact, I could even ¡°look around.¡± Like my head was a camera, only with nothing to see. And I was also aware that another entity was in here with me, a second camera with nothing to see. Unless he could read my thoughts. Murder sensed my anxiety immediately. Speaking to me in impressions and feelings, he said that my anxiety was of no consequence. Which, um¡­was one way to try to reassure someone. Reassurance (Murder said) was of no importance. Assurances and anxiety came and went, like leaves on a tree. It is the role of the living (Murder said) to stand firm like trees. A full-body impression of myself as a tree¡ªa hallucination¡ªa cohesive dream¡ªplayed out within my mind and myself. One so overwhelming that I felt certain my body outside of this mindscape was trembling. The tree of the dream became a sprout, sheltered by the mightier shade of an oak that had lived five hundred years. That protective tree, obviously, was Murder. But the dream dissolved. Murder had questions. The questions were about me, but¡­they were so general, and words so inadequate in a mental connection like this, that I saw no better way to answer it all than to simply play back the movie of my life in fast motion. I had no secrets to hide. If anyone at all asked me what I¡¯d done or who¡¯d I¡¯d been, I¡¯d tell them freely, wouldn¡¯t I? And I also thought about all things supernatural. Vencia was a world that knew of gods. No way he would be surprised at all by Arkmagi, endangered Makers or hidden blades. He would also have to know about Logy. In fact, he really should have known sooner. And here doubts about Murder started to emerge. Why didn¡¯t he do anything or summon any fellow humans to interfere? Because he was (he said) aware that the two of us had similar spiritual sources and natures. We were like the sun and the coming moon. Was that (I said in disbelief) really all there was to it? He would let the people of his own domain suffer like that? A fearsome turn, like the crack of a whip, came upon Murder. A fury at me. He had been watching this forest for five centuries, and in his younger years he¡¯d interfered too much and brought ruin without purpose, or that destroyed purpose. (Startling impressions of blood on the snow.) There were things guardians didn¡¯t do. Namely, they did not interfere when there was a prophecy beyond their ken. But this brought him to his most important question. And he couldn¡¯t answer that question while I was here shrinking, partly guilty at my accusation and raging because guardians and gods never did anything that made sense. Then again (Murder said) that was for heroes to do. He bathed the mindscape in a calming light, making me feel that I myself was the sun. It was too overwhelming, a feeling that seared my inner eye and made me feel so abstractly, galactically huge that my atoms had flown apart and disconnected. That dream stopped as soon as it started, and the light I emanated became a light pouring into the mindscape from somewhere else, pulsing and somehow cooling. It was soothing. So soothing that I almost didn¡¯t want to admit it. It annoyed me that my very justified questions could just be smothered like this with a¡­a metaphysical blanket. But I couldn¡¯t stay angry, and there was a deeper reason for that than the blanket of light itself. To some extent, I could find my own answers. I was strong enough, and smart enough. Yes, maybe cocky enough¡­ I could make things better. Murder nudged me on to his final question. I could only talk to him in this mindscape when I was sufficiently open to him¡ªa fact which, when it dawned on me, actually brought a bit of relief. If I¡¯d reacted to his rage more harshly, I could have made like a bull at the rodeo and bucked him out. Somewhere in my playback memories, there¡¯d been a brief recap of me going to Cornutopia. There, I¡¯d spotted the Vencian version of a marked-off crime scene, where apparently Logy had murdered a human. As much as I felt for an innocent victim, I was also a cat, and mostly a carnivore. It was hard to forget that. Murder understood. But he was a sworn guardian of human ways just as much as the ways of other animals. Not only had an innocent human been killed¡ªwhich was, for the village, a tragedy on its face¡ªbut Logy had done it in human skin. Now, Murder hadn¡¯t had a clear idea of what kind of entity Logy was until he¡¯d peered through my memories today. A guardian could be confused and searching too, though they might have a method. Even that couldn¡¯t answer his question with certainty: How should Logy be judged and punished? ¡­How could he even think to ask me that?! First off, Logy had done so much more. She¡¯d terrorized me and the people I cared about, evidently without remorse. Second, what would make me, a tiny little cat who needed protection under Murder¡¯s oh-so-mighty tree arms, the right person to ask about her judgment? Were guardians just lazy, could they not even be trusted to make their own decisions?! The general light pulsed. Murder redoubled his focus on me¡ªI felt it. On me, not because I was the greatest judge, but because I was an interesting judge. Like he was genuinely curious about what a witless nekomata had to say. That last sentence was me trying to be sarcastic and failing. I sensed no mockery or irony in him. Murder¡¯s question for me was simpler and more primal than ¡°should she be charged and imprisoned for this one thing.¡± It was about her nature, which was very close to my nature. If I had been a reincarnated wolf, at a high level, with that kind of power, maybe I would have devoured a human. Just the capacity to Morph and a storeroom of phantom knowledge wouldn¡¯t have been enough to ¡°make the wolf human.¡± So no, I guessed Logy shouldn¡¯t be judged as a human, but it riled me up to think that just being outside of human law might mean she ¡°didn¡¯t deserve¡± any punishment at all. It was (Murder said) up to me to punish her, being of her nature. There were guardians of other places (I saw broad scrublands, stunning rainforests, a twisting ravine of kaleidoscopic stone stairs¡ªthe camps and villages of Vencia) whose ways were more brutal than Murder¡¯s, but for Murder to punish Logy would be a betrayal of the code he and Outlast had set together ages ago. When he put the vengeance on my shoulders¡­the desire and drive to do anything brutal slipped away. I guessed I did have my own personal forms of vengeance, even if they were more like beating someone in a footrace. Cats could be tricky, but I only had one, maybe two tricky bones in my body. I wondered if Murder would at least keep a strict eye on Logy. He was the only one who could. He communicated that he¡¯d do his best without hesitation. Butterflies were much harder to spot and track than humans, though, and the limits of the guardians were, in the end, their mortal forms. I felt how vast he was beyond the condor body, the swirling, galaxy-colored aura that reached beyond time. Murder suggested that I might actually be better at tracking her. Oh, right. I literally was. I changed my wondering to wonder if he could keep a closer eye on me, in that case, or even peer into my System, assuming that was even possible. Again, he proposed to do his best, though the Wood was busy and he could only be in one place at one time. With a reaffirmation of our twinned natures, Murder withdrew and disappeared. Suddenly I was no longer a disembodied camera in outer space above¡ªI was Taipha¡¯s mind¡¯s eye sitting still in my brain. I felt like I would on any lazy morning as I struggled to leave my sleep. Gradually I opened my eyes and became aware of the world again. The haze in my eyes looked like a veil of tears, but my eyes were dry, and they stung. I squeezed them closed again. It felt like smoke was escaping them¡ªsomehow¡ªand leaving behind the same dull pain that I now realized had branded my back. There must¡¯ve been loads of talon marks on that. Well, that wasn¡¯t so bad, I thought. Then I felt odd and guilty. I¡¯d just described a transcendental holy experience as ¡°not so bad.¡± In front of me and Reed and Bayce, the condor staggered away, then took off, beating wings so loud that they shivered the leaves. He wheeled in the sky once, then was gone. 119. Aspirations and Deliberations A figure came striding through the trees, walking fast, with purpose. We watched as the hazy shape of Chora came into view. I was almost jumping with excitement! Or I would¡¯ve been, if I hadn¡¯t still been reeling from the experience of having mentally communicated with some lower-higher being, i.e. Murder. And if I hadn¡¯t also been drip-feeding Reed and Bayce the requisite descriptions of what important info had just been exchanged. Yeah, if not for all that, I might¡¯ve felt eager enough to dash forward and meet her mid-march! Instead, at the tail-end of our calmly interrupted breakfast, I rose alongside Reed and Bayce and shared in the general hello. ¡°Welcome back!¡± ¡°Mreaow!¡± She gave us a modest smile. ¡°Hey. I¡¯m hoping nothing happened while I was gone.¡± Bayce rolled her eyes, though her mouth was beaming. I was keeping my eye on her¡­well, on both her and Chora, really. I just didn¡¯t want their squabbles to ruin a good day. But maybe this was just playing, pure and simple. ¡°Nothing a few Minor Heals couldn¡¯t fix,¡± she said lightly. ¡°What about you?¡± ¡°Oh, totally fine. Once you¡¯re done eating, we can go inside and I can show you what got delivered¡­¡± ¡°Actually, we just finished,¡± Reed said. That was wrong¡ªwe¡¯d finished about forty minutes ago, but a mixture of business and idle chatter had kept us here. Plus, the sun was just twinkling-bright. We had a ways to go before the afternoon, so there was still a yellow edge to the air. ¡°And we have leftovers. Have some!¡± ¡°Have none,¡± Chora said automatically. ¡°Have¡­drink?¡± ¡°Have none neither.¡± ¡°Have rest in the¡­I mean, in bedroom.¡± Reed stifled a laugh, despite this wordplay being really corny. Or perhaps¡­because it was corny? ¡°Um, no need. I got more than enough hospitality.¡± The humans began to pick up the empty plates, shuttle leftovers into a basket, and bundle up the towels and cushions. I Morphed, more than willing to volunteer as pack mule, and let them heap pillows into my arms. As two of them hurried off, I felt a tap on the shoulder. Turning past the tower of towels, I saw Chora. ¡°Hey, can you please meet me on the roof when you can? I have some¡­life questions I don¡¯t think Reed or Bayce can answer.¡± That sure startled me. Not the tapping, but the incredibly open-ended request. What was she planning on asking me? Despite having talked to a couple of holy beings, I didn¡¯t know that many of the mysteries of the known universe. Then again, maybe she was just curious about what it was like to be me? To Morph and stuff? Not like I could ask just yet. I nodded with anxious speed. Chora nodded back, reached down to grab the basket, and said, ¡°Thank you¡­Taipha.¡± That couldn¡¯t have been the first time Chora used my name, but it was a weirdly impactful time. Like she¡¯d been tasting my name on her tongue and decided it felt right. As we walked side by side into the cabin, I wondered what kind of existential questions she had for me. Or if they were going to be some absolute garbage, like why cats found catnip so addicting. *** ¡°That¡¯s all the more reason why we have to train hard, right?¡± Bayce laughed at Chora¡¯s matter-of-factness. She laughed one good, sarcastic time. ¡°We? You¡¯re so certain we have to deal with this? I can¡¯t just derail my life.¡± Chora and Reed sat on one side of the den, Bayce and I on the other. In between us was a burlap sack of various goods¡ªcollected not by me, but by Chora. It looked like the legendary, timeless toting technology of the bag had been adopted by humans in kind. Inside, as she¡¯d reported, were cantrip and Spell ingredients, as well as a few lumps of metal, which she had yet to explain, at least not to me.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. I couldn¡¯t blame her so much for that. I¡¯d just had so much to explain, with the help of recently kidnapped Reed and recently terrified Bayce. And now Chora was taking the news incredibly seriously. Again, I couldn¡¯t blame her. ¡°I don¡¯t think the gravity of this has dawned on any of you,¡± Chora said. Now Reed took offense. As usual, she was firm but restrained. ¡°It has certainly dawned on me,¡± she said. ¡°I just don¡¯t have all the information yet. I assure you, though, I can see disaster coming. I just don¡¯t think we¡¯ll be alone.¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s not about being alone. It¡¯s simply about being as prepared as we can be. I mean, why wait? I myself should¡¯ve been training harder these past few days.¡± Reed shook her head violently. ¡°Blaming ourselves gets us nowhere. Especially not when so little has happened!¡± Chora¡¯s mouth flatlined. ¡°It¡¯s not about blaming myself, either. It¡¯s just acting smart.¡± She sighed deeply, and everyone took that moment to reflect. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s what I saw in the village that¡¯s making me want to rush into action. There¡¯s a totally different emergency in the Wood, and unlike the time stones and the draining mountains¡ªwhich are at least going slowly, and not hurting any humans that we know of¡ªthis one is killing people.¡± I felt a pang of recognition. Was she talking about what Logy did in the park? No, had Logy done more? ¡°A couple hunters were spearfishing in the marsh,¡± she said, ¡°and one came back ragged. The other one didn¡¯t come back at all. These were trained hunters under fortunate stars, so whatever happened¡­the village is thinking it was unusual. They¡¯re sending out a larger group to investigate. DeGalle too, since she offered and she was really hard to refuse.¡± ¡°So let me get this straight,¡± Reed said. ¡°People were slightly riled up about the things that DeGalle came to investigate¡­but they¡¯re more riled up about whoever or whatever killed the dead hunter.¡± ¡°Correct.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­if I were in the village, I¡¯d be going with them to the northeast too.¡± Chora squinted. ¡°You¡¯re not?¡± Bayce sputtered out another laugh again. It was clear what she planned on doing¡ªnot doing. ¡°I haven¡¯t decided,¡± Reed said, unmoved. ¡°I¡¯m almost dead-set on going,¡± Chora said. ¡°That is, if I¡¯m not needed for something closer to home.¡± This had become way more tense than I¡¯d expected¡ªand it wasn¡¯t even because of that old Chora-Bayce tension. Chora had a fierce sense of justice, and an unshakeable sense of what it had to be, like she¡¯d pledged herself to a cause the way she¡¯d pledged to me. And while that sense of justice was also her stubbornness, I really felt that she was in the right. Sure, I was staking my answer on the hope that Logy was no longer a clear and present danger, but if you took that for granted, there was no compelling reason why Reed couldn¡¯t help the people of Outlast. She had such a big heart that it seemed inevitable that she¡¯d want to. In fact, I bet the only reason she was ¡°undecided¡± was because she felt put on the spot. Bayce¡­well, Bayce needed to study, but that was never not true. She maybe didn¡¯t have such a big heart. Or was I thinking about it wrong? Can someone be ¡°heartless¡± if they¡¯re as eager as she was yesterday to save one of her best friends? No, she just didn¡¯t want to get in the affairs of strangers. Including me, to some extent. Okay, I guessed the friction was coming down to that old tension yet again. At least I could try my best to diffuse it. ¡°REED U NEED TIME TO THINK,¡± I said, and while she looked peeved for a moment, she immediately relaxed. Had I been too dogmatic? Just a touch. ¡°CHORA I GET WHY THIS MATTERS. ITS JUST THAT U SPRANG IT ON US. PLZ DONT GET ANGRY¡± She bristled. ¡°I have a right to get angry, if you¡¯re implying I don¡¯t.¡± ¡°NO NOT WHAT I MEANT!!!!! TALK IS HARD!!!!!¡± I pivoted, trying to ignore my nerves. ¡°I WANT TO GO HELP VILLAGE. I DONT THINK ITS BAD IF OTHERS DONT. OUTLAST HAS PEOPLE. THAT BIRD. THEYVE DONE THIS BEFORE PROBABLY. THEY MIGHT NOT NEED US, BUT WE NEED US. IF THAT MAKES SENSE¡± ¡°Yeah¡­you think there¡¯s a risk of self-sacrifice.¡± ¡°You really jumped to conclusions,¡± Bayce said to Chora. ¡°I am not fearing my own death! I¡¯m living my own life over here. I mean, it¡¯s not like I want the Outlasters to die in a hole. I wish them the best! It¡¯s just¡­how to you expect me to juggle all that and what I¡¯m already doing?¡± She gestured to the open bag. ¡°Just leave me to my cantrips and Spells¡ªpreferably in the tranquil silence you so admire¡ªand I¡¯ll be happy.¡± ¡°So be it,¡± Chora said, arms crossed securely. ¡°Yep! So be it.¡± ¡°Well, I can go,¡± Reed said, ¡°if nothing interferes.¡± ¡°I¡­guess I want it to be your own choice,¡± Chora said. ¡°Taipha, you¡¯re mostly right. The only trouble is that they don¡¯t know what could¡¯ve done it, but¡­it¡¯s an old village that¡¯s weathered tons of storms.¡± She winced. ¡°In hindsight, they were just really, really persuasive. That¡¯s what I get for not staying in a hotel suite.¡± Now I felt a little bad for having been so persuasive. ¡°CHORA U WERE STILL KINDA RIGHT,¡± I told her. ¡°THEY DO NEED HELP.¡± She nodded. Now that the air was so tense, we wanted just about nothing more than to clear it again. Windows were opened, supposedly so that Bayce could ¡°let in the first real cool breeze of the season,¡± but mainly for the symbolism, I was sure. Reed grabbed the lumpy metals from out of the bag and disappeared them in the Inventory behind her back. Bayce did the same with all the magical ingredients. I marveled at the fact that the wimpy Intelligence cantrip I was still wearing had irritated neither my skin nor my brain¡­ And then I remembered a thread I¡¯d left hanging. Something that could seriously help everyone out, especially the humans! You see, I had access to lots and lots of go¡ª ¡°Hey,¡± Chora murmured to me as we found ourselves alone. ¡°The roof okay?¡± ¡­Oh. Right. Sure! The roof might be big enough to hold ten thousand pieces of gold. 120. Air Obics Forget what I just said. I would never dump ten thousand gold pieces on this roof! What if I couldn¡¯t aim where I wanted the gold to go? With the sheer quantity I had, that would mean emptying out coins everywhere, and just look at those tiny gaps between the planks! No, I wouldn¡¯t wish that on my worst enemy. Then again, maybe walking back and forth on the roof with a big magnet would¡ª Oh yeah, Chora had a bigger, more immediate thing to talk to me about. Here she was standing before me, waiting quite patiently. Sorry, I thought meekly. I stepped off the ladder, and Chora reached over to close the latch behind me. ¡°Okay,¡± she said, sighing out air. ¡°What I wanted to ask about is love¡ªI guess.¡± I froze. What the¡ªthis was not in a million years what I thought she¡¯d lead in with! Loving who, what, me??? ¡°Someone in the village¡­¡± Okay, some of the turmoil was leaving my head now. But still. My confusion was so great that every word seemed to last a whole minute. I was overanalyzing every little syllable. ¡°¡­is really interested in me. I stayed with him the whole time I was there. Of course, I didn¡¯t know that was how he felt until it was too late and he was already hurt¡­¡± Her words were laced with barbs meant for herself. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t feel prepared to be with him either way.¡± Now my mind was crafting an image of this mystery person. A guy who liked Chora¡­ It would¡¯ve been cool to see her with a second battle partner who¡¯d also flip and kick around, or maybe a reserved spellcaster giving her backup. But this was a wild fantasy, and it was increasingly off-topic! Besides, it was no good if Chora didn¡¯t want it. But it didn¡¯t exactly sound like she disliked him. Was I missing something? I tended to be missing something. ¡°My question is,¡± she said, ¡°how do you remain comfortable in your selfhood?¡± ¡­That question had my brain fizzling out already. How vague can you get? Apparently Chora could see the smoke coming from my ears. ¡°O-okay, let me be more specific. The whole time I¡¯ve known you, you¡¯ve been comfortable alone. When I was traveling with you to the village and the mansion, there were times when you didn¡¯t even pay me any attention. In the best way, like you¡¯ve never needed a partner, and¡­maybe you never wanted one?¡± Huh. Was that even true? I had to wonder. Across all those years on Earth, I¡¯d never had a partner. Never mind all the different ways ¡°partner¡± could translate into cat relationships¡ªI didn¡¯t have any of those, full stop. Any friends and lovers (if that was love) were out of my life in a flash. So the idea that I never wanted a partner was¡­ Chora went on. ¡°I like solitude, I like independence, and I like being able to wander. The more I¡¯m alone, the more I have that. But every time I think about Robin and I remember how he feels about me, I just flash forward to me in eighty years. Am I going to be alright alone?¡± That was the kind of ultra-serious flash-forward I doubted most people had. What would Bayce do? Probably imagine the most blissful happily-ever-after ever with her new beloved¡ªthe polar opposite¡­or, to be more precise, the flipside of the same coin. I wanted to call it another very human idea. And apparently it persisted on Vencia the same way it had on Earth! This happily-ever-after where everyone needs to find one partner and produce two or maybe three children. But really, it was very primal¡ªsomething to do with propagating the species. To me, it did not matter at all. ¡°CHORA, U HAV FRIENDS,¡± I said. ¡°U WONT BE ALONE! U THINK REED WOULD JUST LEAVE YOU BC UR NOT MARRIED??? MAKES NO SENSE¡± ¡°Okay, I get you, but¡­that¡¯s only part of it. I do like him, and I think I¡¯d like to be intimate. I just don¡¯t feel¡­¡± She danced around the word. ¡°Ready?¡± ¡°PLZ DONT USE EUPHEMISMS BC I DONT GET THEM¡± ¡°Ah. Then¡­¡± Chora¡¯s eyes flitted away. ¡°Then I guess I can¡¯t get into more detail¡­¡± URGH! I¡¯d given her the exact wrong response! I didn¡¯t mean to shut the whole thing down! Then again, to be honest, I was relieved at the thought that yet another awkward conversation was now awkwardly escaping. First Murder asking about Logy and now this¡ªwhat was with people asking me for advice like I was a sage today?! Then again, maybe I was dodging responsibility. I could at least give her, you know, an answer. ¡°MAYBE IM OK WHEN IM ALONE BC IM A CAT, N I DONT KNOW ANY OTHER CATS,¡± I said. Um¡­I didn¡¯t know if that made any sense because I felt fairly secure in myself when I did know other cats, but this conversation was never going to make total sense. I still didn¡¯t have a concrete idea of what Chora was going through with this Robin guy, and she wouldn¡¯t tell me! Chora¡¯s eyes drifted again. This time it wasn¡¯t just a flit¡ªit was a full-on lateral move. ¡°But¡­what about when you¡¯re¡­kind of a human?¡± I, uh¡­don¡¯t know if that counts?! ¡°Sorry!¡± She swatted the question away. ¡°Sorry. People don¡¯t like questions like that. We have other things to do.¡± Wait, we do?! Oh, right, we did! Imminent danger in the Vencian Wood, right?The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Suddenly Chora lobbed two dumbbells my way. I acted fast and became ¡°kind of a human,¡± as she put it. They thundered into my now-shaking hands. ¡°When you start lifting weights,¡± she said, abruptly changing her whole tone, ¡°you¡¯re really supposed to start by training your core, but as we may be on a short timetable¡­¡± Woah woah woah! Sure, I was curious about what kind of stuff Chora actually did up here, so part of me didn¡¯t mind doing this impromptu session under her tutelage. But now?! The other good thing about it, though, was that it took Chora¡¯s mind off the odd conversation that just happened. In fact, was that a fleeting smile? Good, because I was starting to think¡ªas I had when we were together in Outlast¡ªthat all she needed was to relax. Some guy might be in her life for two days or twenty years or a hundred, but whatever way you sliced it, she was a good and resourceful person. I totally missed the window to say that. But as I curled and uncurled my arms and wrists, I figured that maybe if I said them, she wouldn¡¯t quite believe them. Words getting in the way again. ¡°Don¡¯t get overzealous!¡± she cried. ¡°Proper form¡ªoh, I forgot to tell you anything about proper form. My mistake. See, you¡¯re gripping the weights so loosely that you almost hit that passenger pigeon. Also, it¡¯s less effective to do bicep curls all the way past your neck¡­¡± Several seconds of Chora lightly nudging my arms and shoulders into place later, I was lifting again, hopefully properly this time. ¡°Levels,¡± she said as she strutted around me, now like a drill sergeant, ¡°seem to be far more effective at developing muscle mass than any form of strength or endurance training. But what they don¡¯t provide is discipline. Attention to form. The diligence to perform the same exact action every time. To not create, but iterate.¡± She was losing me again¡­but I got the point. Chora didn¡¯t draw strength from creative solutions so much as the tried and true. It made sense, since it seemed like she drew all her magical power from martial arts, and those took commitment. I was so lucky! I¡¯d gotten this far while being way lazier than her! Humans had it rough. I dropped the dumbbells onto a mat¡ªand jumped when they landed more heavily than I intended. My arms were spaghetti, and my chest heaved. Chora stopped and blinked. ¡°Good time,¡± she said. ¡°Really good. Those were twenty-pound weights, and you did a hundred at breakneck pace. Again, your form is only so-so, because you were slipping at the end¡­but it was better.¡± Her awe gave me awe. Even if all I felt was stinging muscle pain, I¡¯d really done astoundingly good. Did my power feel cheap? A little. But then again, I had earned it through countless adventures and, I had to guess, more life-risking encounters than Chora had ever been put through. She put a hand to her chin. ¡°It¡¯s amazing. So much power and yet no muscle mass to speak of¡­¡± Rude and yet true! I wasn¡¯t exactly boney, but for someone who did as much walking and trotting as I did, my nekomata form had surprisingly little muscle tone. Suddenly I thought to ask, ¡°HOW GET ABS???¡± Sometimes when this form was in battle, my shirt would fly, exposing all to the world. Now, I was no expert in human psychology, but I believed that on a practical level, washboard abs could intimidate the competition. Maybe even wolves! ¡°That¡¯s core strength,¡± Chora said. ¡°Not a bad thing to practice. But for now, I have something else I¡¯m curious about trying with you. Let¡¯s go through some Lyen-Chunst stretches and positions, if you don¡¯t mind.¡± I didn¡¯t mind at all. I set my weights down and gave her a hearty ¡°Meow!¡± And at first, I simply un-Morphed and watched her demonstrate. It started with slow, disciplined stretches. She was a true martial artist: her breathing was consistent, the positions she repeated looked almost identical every time, and she stared straight ahead, seeming never to blink. After her stretches, she transitioned to balance: standing on one leg and stretching the other, ending on a long and dazzling handstand. Then came the punches, kicks, and swivels on her feet. Now I could see how the stretches and the balance exercises merged elegantly with the techniques she used for combat. Actually, I was thinking about it wrong¡ªthose foundations were the backbone of her combat. After all, without the ability to balance so precariously, how could she expect to fight with the wind? ¡°Now you try.¡± The command hit me with a jolt. I forgot this was coming! Was I supposed to have memorized all that?! No, because when I stood beside her on the mat, Chora modeled the whole routine again. I mirrored her as well as I could, cursing myself when a handstand brought me crashing down. ¡°Mrrgh!¡± Chora hopped out of her handstand¡ªanother amazing move¡ªand came to my aid. I rose fast, partly to escape the shame of needing to be helped up during what was, for her, a routine exercise. But Chora was encouraging. ¡°It never comes easy. That¡¯s why it¡¯s an art: it takes time and patience to perfect.¡± But when you did perfect it, it let you do amazing things. As Chora transitioned into demonstrating Lyen-Chunst moves with the wind magic flowing around her and jetting into the trees, I watched in new amazement. Bayce had never made or handed out any wind-element Spells since I¡¯d arrived. Did she consider it too weak, or did she just not have the materials? It had to exist. But then again, it seemed more useful if you could hold onto that element forever¡­if you could use it to take flight. ¡°I¡¯m still curious about what your element might be,¡± she said, coming to a stop. ¡°Mrah?¡± ¡­Oh. Yeah, I saw where this was going. ¡°You might really be an air adept. Agile, but harsh as the whipping wind.¡± Well, I did like to jump¡­but couldn¡¯t I like jumping and also be something else fast and hurting, like lightning or fire or even rushing water? And I did have Air Cutter in my arsenal, but wasn¡¯t that more likely because Chora was coincidentally my battle partner when I leveled up that time? Whatever. I cast my suspicions away, and all because Chora¡¯s idea to have me try out some actual Lyen-Chunst was so exciting. Carefully, with more light taps, Chora shifted my humanoid form into position. I was supposed to perform a low kick, swiveling at the same time, with the toes of my kicking foot pointed precisely at the corner of that exercise mat over there¡ªwhich, by the way, would not even be hit by the gust of wind. It was a lot to remember. But the critical part, of course, was summoning the magic. ¡°Reach within you and tug on your magic,¡± she said. ¡°Whatever it might be. That element in your core, that charged aura¡­draw it out. And let it circulate in your leg.¡± I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and figured, Yeah, I guess that¡¯s what happening. Because with a thing as amorphous as this, I seriously couldn¡¯t tell if what I was feeling was magic or just my regular bloodstream. They did both circulate. Still, I trusted her. Maybe that was the most important part. ¡°Mreaow!¡± I cried, feeling a real burst of power. I swept my leg and swiveled, doing my best to follow the echo of Chora¡¯s form. And I did see the magic loosed from my leg! Granted, it was exactly what I should have expected¡ªoff-white aura¡ªand the plasma lump of it rocketed into the forest at a seemingly random upward angle, but it was something. ¡°That wasn¡¯t an element,¡± Chora said bluntly. ¡°Okay, maybe nonhuman animals just have different rules. Yeah, on second thought, I should¡¯ve seen this coming.¡± ¡°Meow¡­¡± I gave her a cat-sound of sympathy. I didn¡¯t want her to feel like a failure for this. Seconds later, I had her spirit board in one arm and spelled, ¡°ITS OK THO. THAT WAS COOL! ALSO WHATS AURA?¡± She moved on just as quickly as I had. ¡°It¡¯s the essence of magic,¡± she said. ¡°It actually contains pieces of every element. The going theory of magic is that human aura changes over time while animal aura stays essentially the same, only changing briefly and out of species-wide instinct¡ªa fancy weird way of saying ¡®they get elements to attack.¡¯¡± Ah. That made¡­partial sense. But why did humans have to be so different? ¡°Furthermore, it¡¯s thought that the complexity of human personality and how it¡¯s shaped by human culture is what causes souls to incline toward particular elements.¡± ¡°OK THATS COOL BUT IT WILL NEVER MAKE SENSE TO ME. LETS MOVE ON?¡± ¡°¡­Note taken.¡± 121. The Hurricane Meant Well It was very, very weird to use aura without calling upon any Skill at all. This felt¡­wrong! Despite the flowy nature of the Lyen-Chunst moves I was awkwardly performing, just the fact that I had a growing awareness of the aura now churning seemingly through my bloodstream threw everything off. I found it hard to concentrate on all the points Chora wanted me to remember, whether that was the proper way to swivel or the right metaphysical metaphor to use to ¡°center myself.¡± ¡°You are a bird,¡± she said as I breathed in, spread my arms, and shut my eyes. ¡°Arms wide, taking in the radiance of the sun¡­¡± It felt like tingling up my forearm. Eeeeew. At last, I just shook my head. I threw in the towel. Of the dozen attacks I¡¯d performed, only three had actually released any aura. And of those three, none did much damage to the random tree branches their plasma bumps rocketed into. Come to think of it, why did the aura just come out as blobs, instead of a cool shape or even just the shape of my kicking leg? While it was hard to gauge my SP usage with any kind of mathematical precision, given that I was also practicing in humanoid form, I had been checking enough to know that drawing upon my aura this way used SP. Kind of a lot of it.
HP 99% (849/855)
SP 63% (515/820)
I estimated that about 150 had gone into all my attacks, and considering the fact they¡¯d failed¡­ In general, Lyen-Chunst made me feel like a failure. And also that that was totally fine. I asked Chora how long she¡¯d been training, and she said, ¡°Since I was a kid. But I didn¡¯t get consistent until high school.¡± I asked her what ¡°inconsistent¡± meant, and she said, ¡°Practicing three hours once a week.¡± I practiced nothing for no hours no times a week. There were two good things that¡¯d come from this practice¡ªbesides the fact that it had shown me my limits. It gave me a strange new horizon to wonder about: a different skill ceiling. What would my arsenal be like if I trained in a martial art like this that actually gave me new techniques, new ways to use the energy already inside me? And what kind of dedication would it take? The other good thing was, I had loosened up. To a degree I¡¯d never felt before. Swinging my arms idly, feeling a breeze pass over the roof as Chora simply watched the trees rustle from the railing, I realized that this tense training session had left me untense. Obviously I knew the pleasures of a good stretch, but this was so total it was new to me. I cracked my neck, but there was no crack. I¡¯d like to see the whole house do this, I thought. They super need it. From there my mind began to wander. Come to think of it, they could all be a little more like the wind. Bayce was almost always cooped up in here, and while Reed liked to escape and hike, the danger I involuntarily brought here was making her feel like she had to stay, maybe even for my sake. But that was the last thing I wanted! And then there was Chora herself. She must have been missing something about the Lyen-Chunst philosophy¡ªthat, or I knew it better. Because she was focused on forms and technique, but nothing about her felt free. Combine her expertise and my impetuousness, and you¡¯d have a sage for the ages. I think I just want us to play, I thought. Somewhere far from here. Beyond the woods. At least at the limits of the woods. In the unmarked territories still in the east. I tapped on the spirit board to get Chora¡¯s attention. ¡°ANY COOL FUN PLACES NEARBY? NOT THE POND. COOLER PLACES?¡± I thought better of the word ¡°cool.¡± ¡°MORE RELAXING.¡± Chora pondered this for several long seconds. Why did I get the feeling she was hesitating? She said, ¡°There¡¯s a beach.¡± I was thunderstruck. That¡¯s exactly what I want! A beach, with hot sand and cool water that I wouldn¡¯t even mind (in context)! ¡°OK THAT SOUNDS GREAT! LETS ALL GO ASAP!¡± Woah! Maybe I overwhelmed her with my enthusiasm. I was literally hunched over the board and moving so fast that the speed demanded I spell with my two thumbs. No wonder she backed off and squinched her brow. But it was worse than that. Chora actually raised her voice back. ¡°Why would we do that when we need to be training?!¡± The breath went out of me again. I had heard Chora angry, but I¡¯d never heard her angry at me. No one had ever been angry at me besides the distant, passive-aggressive Sierra. No one had cried out in my face. Of course I¡¯d been beaten and skewered loads of times in my life, but this was a kind of vulnerability I¡¯d never experienced, and it felt like fight or flight. Either I run and hide or I don¡¯t back down. And my gut reaction was, I don¡¯t deserve to be screamed at! I dug my heels in, furrowed my own brow, and said what I was really thinking. ¡°ACTUALLY, I WANT EVERYONE TO GO N RELAX TOGETHER BC U N BAYCE HATE EACH OTHER FOR NO REASON,¡± I told her. ¡°WE ALL HATE IT! WE EVEN HATE YOU FOR IT!!! IM SO TIRED OF IT¡± ¡°Then be tired!¡± she said, even louder. I realized now that what she did before wasn¡¯t even her shouting. This was shouting, and it seemed to shake my very core. ¡°I need time to myself, you know this¡ªI just told you¡ªand I need to just focus on the things that actually matter to me. That matter right now, and not ten years ago.¡± She did something else unthinkable: she pointed to the roof hatch. ¡°Get out.¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°NO!¡± I punched up my words with a snarl. ¡°WHAT R U SAYING?? BAYCE DOESNT MATTER TO U ARE U KIDDING?!?!¡± This was Chora enraged. I almost felt a heat coming from her¡ªan incredible tension again, a temper barely held in check. ¡°For my own good and yours, get out.¡± Meanwhile, I must have looked pathetic. I was crying, and must¡¯ve been for a while now, with these trails down my cheeks. I could feel myself tremble, but unlike Chora and her slight earthquake-tremor, I felt like jelly. All I knew to do in this overwhelmed state was repeat, ¡°NO!¡± Chora sighed. It was harsh and quick, like a beat on a drum. ¡°You don¡¯t actually know why I¡¯m afraid to have a partner.¡± Afraid to have a partner? What? She hadn¡¯t said that at all earlier, had she? ¡°It¡¯s because I was so bad to my last one!¡± She almost laughed. ¡°I wasn¡¯t even angry at him! But I hit him. And if it had continued, I would have beat him. Now, go.¡± What?! How could she expect me to make a move after she dumped that on me?! I couldn¡¯t even process it. She hit someone and now she was going to hit me, and somehow against her will¡ªwas that seriously it? But how? Why?! If you don¡¯t want to, just decide not to! It didn¡¯t make any sense to me. Neither did the way I was feeling. I had no right to be feeling this weak and torn-up over nothing but words¡ªand words from a friend. I felt on the verge of collapse. But maybe that was what she was feeling. On the verge of a different kind of collapse. I didn¡¯t think most of this in any coherent form. But I did think, Okay, this is awful for both of us¡­and then I returned to the fight-or-flight drive and engaged in total flight. Yet I was not going through the downstairs walk of shame so that Reed could ask me what was wrong, or Bayce could ask me what was wrong. I just didn¡¯t want to talk at all. Ha, that was a first. So I just went back to cat form and jumped off the railing. It was no trouble landing safe from here. The escape was so simple that it felt wrong, and suddenly the world felt too quiet. I hit the ground but soon felt my legs wobbling. I looked back, up at Chora, but she wasn¡¯t looking at me. Then I remembered that I wanted to fly, and galloped away. Preferably far, far away. *** A modest watering hole sat choked with dragonflies. Instead of dashing through them and swatting all I could, I watched them listlessly from the bushes, dwelling on, and circling back to, the breakaway from Chora. Where I was and how far I¡¯d gone, I didn¡¯t know and I didn¡¯t check. I liked imagining that I had ended up in some totally new yet humdrum place. A place in the Vencian Wood I both had never found and would never find again. ¡­I still didn¡¯t understand it. If I knew how to hold back my rage, surely someone as disciplined as Chora was smart enough to do the same. Then again, maybe it wasn¡¯t about smarts, the same way I would never ¡°choose¡± to get a headache. She said it wasn¡¯t even anger that set her off. Maybe it just happened when she felt the way I¡¯d felt: overwhelmed. And maybe I didn¡¯t need to find a reason just to figure out what to do¡­maybe I just had to trust what Chora was saying about herself, because she knew herself? But it was so hard when our selves didn¡¯t make sense! I still felt weak. My HP was in top shape and my SP wasn¡¯t even half-empty, yet I felt as if I couldn¡¯t raise my paw. Minutes ago I¡¯d been running at a top sprint, but that quickly petered out. I¡¯d stumbled, and I didn¡¯t even feel upset about that. Almost like I wanted to be hurt. So here and now, I fell on my back and writhed around. Writhing around in the dirt, taking a dirt bath like the sparrows did¡­ I hadn¡¯t done anything wrong, had I? How was I supposed to know Chora would hate the idea of relaxing so much? Wasn¡¯t I still right that she was too strict? Or maybe I was wrong, and she stayed strict because a day out forcing Chora and Bayce together was a landmine waiting to blow. But I had no way of knowing, I thought, and I couldn¡¯t refute that. So it still felt unfair that Chora had yelled at me. But¡­I guess I snarled at her, I thought. But I did it for a reason! Something landed on my nose. A dragonfly? It was too blurry¡­ I stared. A human would have squinted, but cats don¡¯t have the same facial technology¡ªwhile squinting is possible, it just doesn¡¯t look as cool. So to look as menacing as possible yet also expend the least energy possible, I kept my eyes wide open. A gaze that said, Don¡¯t mess with me. Or, rather, It¡¯s been like a minute. Stop messing with me! Okay, my eyes are dry. Please, please just get off. When I blinked, it felt like a Herculean loss. And wouldn¡¯t you know it, when I opened my eyes, that insect had disappeared. Ugh¡­ You did that on purpose. I rolled onto my feet, roused to action by another injustice. This time, it wasn¡¯t a two-way clueless injustice like what I¡¯d just gone through earlier. I was being actively antagonized by something that was probably extremely weak. According to the law of the wild, the weak troubling the strong was a grave injustice¡­ But when the weak, fast and crafty did it, it was just cheating. It took a while for me to realize that insect had landed on a nearby flower, very gently flapping its wings. As if specifically to grab my attention.
I thought you¡¯d be more excited to see me Or nervous. They¡¯re basically the same thing
Ah, great. Hello, Logy, I thought with as much hate in my heart as I could summon. Which wasn¡¯t much. Heck, I didn¡¯t even hate her anymore. She was just weird. Like everyone else here.
What¡¯s up
I gave her a long, vicious side-eye. Probably the last words I ever expected out of her would have been what¡¯s up. Goodness.
This is the first time I¡¯ve seen you lying around. Probably need to sleep more
Yeah. Right.
How do you expect to train like this
Well, little do you know I just did. Not that it helped!
You¡¯re even less smart than I realized
That roused me¡ªa little. I jumped to my feet, and by that I mean ¡°shook back and forth like a train car until my front paws found their way onto the ground.¡± In charitable terms, I looked like a proud lion, restful yet perturbed. And by ¡°perturbed¡± I do mean ¡°pretty indignant.¡± Look at this thing around my neck! It¡¯s raising my Intelligence by a whole¡­like¡­point¡­or two! NOT THAT IT HELPS! But it¡¯s the principle of the thing!! ¡­Wait, but it really did help. Dimly I remembered the point of Logy even coming here. She was here to train me, likely in some way that involved the sword. And now there was a chance I could actually use the sword without infinite suffering! Maybe that wouldn¡¯t be so bad. It would be a diversion, at least. And Logy didn¡¯t seem ready to slaughter me. Only verbally slaughter me, with horrific disdain¡­but a kind of horrific disdain I could manage. After all, what hurt right now was people like me caring too much, and being too emotional. I sat a little more upright, changed forms, and allowed the golden blade into my hands. For the first time, this thing felt a little like a normal blade. I mean, my INT was certainly plummeting, but I started in this world with 1 point, didn¡¯t I? And Logy, my coach, would compensate.
Don¡¯t fall over
I hoped. 122. Gold in Hand Logy really wasn¡¯t bad when you were doing exactly what she wanted you to do. In this case, I was practicing sword-fighting. I didn¡¯t want to¡ªwhat I really wanted to do was roll around in the dirt and wallow, like a pig in a drought¡ªbut then again, this was probably for the best. Getting active gave me something better to do than, well, ruminate. And the mere presence and irritatingness of Logy gave me something to focus on. Not only that, but she was my target! Teeing herself up! Not that she was allowing herself to take a beating. No, this was just standard sparring between our humanoid forms. And while our Stats were through the roof and our swords were magnificent objects of destiny, battling each other in these conditions felt so profoundly mundane. You know how an epic clash has these big sounds and energy whooshes? And even a fight between wild animals comes with growls and stuff? Well, we had none of that. Just flat clangs of our swords, and Logy responding in utter silence to all of my moves. We didn¡¯t even get the cool factor that comes with the gold sword deactivating the silver in a pinch and coming in clutch, because Logy was using a random rusty decoy. She might literally have gotten it from the bottom of a bog¡ªit smelled that way. Oh, and it wasn¡¯t even graceful. It seemed that when I counteracted the Debug Blade¡¯s blistering decimation of my Intelligence Stat with even the most pathetic of Intelligence-boosting cantrips, I lost that fluidity I once had, the grace I¡¯d used to murder countless raccoons. Woohoo for world peace, but aww for my chances of landing a decent hit on anything. It just went to show that my mission was, seemingly, never over. And I was in the perfect state to mull over all the worst aspects of this! But¡­after parrying Logy¡ªa very slow and rough parry, mind you, that Logy patiently accepted¡ªI stabbed the blade in the ground and raised a hand to tap out for a moment. ¡­Wow, I actually jammed a sword straight into the earth. Real deep. And it hadn¡¯t hurt my arm at all. Weird how much of a difference Strength made. Also, the sensation of my Stats returning to normal almost made me lightheaded. It was like recovering from transdimensional numbness. Ihhh¡­at least it was brief. Anyway, I brought out my spirit board (technically Chora¡¯s, but I was trying not to think about that) and asked her a question. ¡°U THINK ID BE BETTER IF I HAD MORE HAND-EYE COORDINATION?¡± Logy stared ahead. Not even at me. Her eyes were flat black, her mouth oddly nonexistent. Just like I remembered them, and yet incredibly odd in the light of day.
I don¡¯t understand what you just asked
Uh¡­could I really explain this? How could I word it¡­ ¡°OK SO U KNOW HANDS? HANDWRITING?¡±
Why are you saying that What¡¯s an ok?
I sighed aloud. ¡°ITS SHORT FOR THE WORD ¡®OKAY.¡¯ HUMANS LIKE IT¡± Logy shifted.
You¡¯re already testing my patience with your lack of apostrophes
Well, it¡¯s not like the spirit board bothered! I thought. What do you want from me?!
Ohhh, so the letter ¡°u¡± in this context means ¡°you.¡±
¡°RIGHT¡± Y¡¯know, if I had realized Logy was having trouble deciphering my messages, I might have made them a little longer and clearer from the start¡­or then again, maybe not. I wasn¡¯t sure she would thank me for the courtesy, and gratitude does not equal ¡°refraining from insulting Taipha for the time being.¡± Okay, so it turned out Logy did know what hand-eye coordination was. She sent over a fresh reply.
More coordination could only help. But in terms of sheer capability, Stats will win out over the physical limits of the body and brain any day. No, your movements are so languorous because of that other thing you told me
¡°MY WIS AND INT?¡±
Exactly
I groaned and shook my head wildly. ¡°UGH BUT THATS WHATS KEEPING MY HEAD FROM HURTING! THATS NOT FAIR!!!¡±
HAHAHA what¡¯s fairness. You¡¯re a cat
I took offense to that, which caught me myself off guard. I mean, I wasn¡¯t not a cat. But¡­but come on, fairness was good and stuff! We liked it when there were fair humans! A-and fair animals, those could exist too! ¡°R U SERIOUS?¡± I asked. ¡°EVEN CATS HAVE SOME IDEA OF FAIR. MAKE ALLIANCES, MAKE TRADES¡± Logy shrugged.
Okay, I didn¡¯t know that But still. You and your cat society grafted that onto the world yourself. No law of the cosmos says you¡¯ve got to be fair
I squinted at her. ¡°OK BUT WHAT ABOUT GODS? ARKMAGI???¡± Her eyes flared.
Don¡¯t bring up my Maker lightly.
That actually made me laugh. I stuck out my tongue at her, pleased to have made her angry but not wailing-on-me angry. (Not yet, at least.) I board-screamed, ¡°HYPOCRITE!!!¡± She shifted again. Okay, so even a butterfly had obvious nervous tics. In her case, she would shuffle on her feet, almost like a¡­a dancing horse. Alright, that was a little too funny. I had to stop chuckling at some point. Logy very pointedly raised up her blade, running a delicate finger across the edge.
I don¡¯t think I came here to be demeaned
She had a point. And frankly, I didn¡¯t want my training to be overwhelmed by witty backtalk. Part of me would much rather refine my clumsiness into a style. Or the beginnings of one, at least, to tide me over until I completed the cantrip that could salvage my swordplay.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. As our swords banged awkwardly together again, I began to see the problem. You see, I had a vast reservoir of Wisdom within me, just sitting there waiting to be tapped into. In fact, it was almost like that reservoir of aura I had lazing around in my circulatory system or whatever. Tapping into it in the heat of battle wasn¡¯t second nature. Instead, I was tapping into my Intelligence for this battle. Which was slow, and that meant I sucked. Every sword move I was making was rote, and based on some stray human idea. Left jab, right jab, left block, right block. It was extremely elementary. So¡­why wasn¡¯t Logy upping the intensity? Oh, maybe because she didn¡¯t wanna kill me. So if I wanted to break free, I had to do what the Debug Blade forced me to do by default: let go of my smarts and rely fully on the Wisdom, which was nothing but instinct magnified. And in that moment, everything changed. My arms sagged like spaghetti and gorilla-swung the blade into Logy, flying toward her hip. She blocked it easily. No problem. I just gorilla-swung the other way. She blocked that too. Soon I was exclusively gorilla-swinging, changing the height, speed, and direction of the swing for infinite variations! Somehow, she still blocked them all. Worse, she didn¡¯t say or do anything suggesting the remotest surprise.
STOP. This sucks
I pouted. No it does not! I was on to something!
What are you even trying to do Are you trying to copy the way you normally fight with the Blade?
No! Not at all! I was¡­ Never mind. I groaned with the realization that she was pretty much right. ¡°I DIDNT DO IT ON PURPOSE¡±
Of course not. Nobody is bad on purpose
¡°LOGY¡­DO U USE SARCASM?¡±
I¡¯d rather not answer that It would defeat the purpose of sarcasm
Wow. There¡¯s something about you and Sierra that just¡­sucks the words right out of me. I¡¯m shocked every time. I was beginning to worry about Logy, actually. She¡¯d started out life as an imposing figure¡ªin terms of Stats, Levels, and weird glitch-related abilities, she still was imposing¡ªbut every now and then, she sent out a message that really made me wonder if her Intelligence was¡­if it could possibly be¡­even less than mine. I took pity on her. ¡°LOGY U JUST ADMITTED U DO USE SARCASM¡±
Yeah that was the joke
Okay, never mind. Taipha loses again. Uh¡­getting back on topic¡­ ¡°ANYWAY HOW DO I FIX IT WITHOUT HEAD HURT¡±
¡°Without head hurt¡±? Really? I just said I hate abbreviations that make little sense. What was THAT
I gave her a ¡°hmph¡± and a sashay. ¡°IT WAS ON PURPOSE¡± (Note: it wasn¡¯t.) She gave no signs of either indulging that or suffering under the heat of my incredible diss. You know, I could really learn from that. Speaking of learning, I started wondering if my whole strategy of ¡°trying to let go¡± was barking up the wrong tree. It was an oxymoron! As I clinked and clunked against Logy once more, I thought back to Lyen-Chunst, and how Chora¡ªfrustrating as she was¡ªcould only become a master of the art after establishing a rock-solid grasp of the fundamentals. Maybe my instinctless baby brain could only handle left parry, right parry. But if it did those moves well enough, and quick enough, and with all my multiplied force behind them¡ªI¡¯d be good! I launched another perfectly predictable blow at Logy¡¯s block, but this time she staggered.
I¡¯ve been waiting for this It¡¯s strong Obvious. Like a rock. But strong
Alright, maybe Earth was my element. This clod of dirt was about to show her what it¡¯s made of (dirt)! Now that I¡¯d accepted the idea that I was just too low-INT to strategize much, new paths ahead became clearer. Before, I¡¯d had a million options for cool attacks and counterattacks under the vague heading of Untapped Wisdom and no idea how to get there. Now I had like three options in plain sight. Attack high, attack low, attack from the side. And someday, I might even attack diagonally. After a few minutes of me battering hard against Logy¡¯s blocks, my sword actually slipped beyond her defenses. It almost nicked her. Not because I¡¯d been creative. Just because I¡¯d been fast, and blunt, like a soaring stone. Logy paused, then gave me a bit of a wake-up call:
Let¡¯s move on to actual sparring now
I literally dropped my blade in surprise. You call what we were just doing fake sparring?! I¡¯m dripping sweat! And my brain is¡ª My Intelligence and Wisdom returned to normal levels. The world was in balance and all was right again. All the ¡°revelations¡± I¡¯d just had about finding the ideal fighting style were unmasked: my combat reasoning really had reverted to grade school. I could literally envision a whole galaxy of other cool moves I could¡¯ve been using on Logy just now, if only my brain hadn¡¯t been out of whack. Yet again, I sighed.
You¡¯ll get it
Logy said her first encouraging thing to me. Ever. In fact, it might have been her first encouraging thing in all of time and space. It caught me so much by surprise that I didn¡¯t register it at first, thinking she wanted me to grab something off the ground. But no, she repeated the sentiment for good measure.
You¡¯ll develop a new understanding once you¡¯ve practiced enough in this state¡­if that¡¯s the way it has to be
Oh yeah! It didn¡¯t have to be this way, not quite. Bayce said she¡¯d make a better Intelligence cantrip if this one worked out, after all. Not a perfect solution, but far better than this. ¡°THE INT COMES FROM SOMETHING IM WEARING,¡± I told her, pointing at the new necklace. ¡°A CANTRIP. U KNOW THESE?¡± Was it just me, or did Logy huff back?
Why would I know these. What are ¡°these¡±
I almost slapped my forehead. If there were fifty million billion weapons and resources I had no clue about, then there were twice as many for her. Now that she wasn¡¯t threatening and decimating me, she could probably use all the Stat boosts she could get, just like I could. Especially if we were both defending the Vencian Wood from some greater threat. So I descended into the unending torment that is explaining. It was still afternoon. The day felt so young, and as we in our non-humanoid forms sat by the stagnant little pond, what the dragonflies had left behind, I realized that the time-honored advice really worked. Time and busywork had distracted me from my falling-out with Chora. The feelings that¡¯d been eating me up after Chora yelled at me (and I yelled at Chora) didn¡¯t seem quite so gnarled. They still stung at a touch, but the pit they had formed in my belly just didn¡¯t matter as much. I didn¡¯t like the idea of seeing her again right now. Nor did I hate it, like I had an hour before. It stood to reason that in an hour more, I might want to go back and say ¡°hello,¡± and ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± As I explained to Logy some of the things I had learned about the Vencian human world, their magic and weapons, these thoughts about Chora circled in the backstage of my mind. Logy wasn¡¯t asking many questions, making it even easier for me to maintain two tracks of separate reflections. Then we were interrupted, and the sound made me feel deeply bad for a whole different reason. ¡­Get it? Bad, as in ba-a-ad? Like the sound of a sheep? Because a sheep¡¯s bleat was what we were hearing! But seriously, I hoped Logy wouldn¡¯t go evil again and eat the sheep or something. 123. Outlandin You didn¡¯t actually believe I was concerned about Logy possibly eating a sheep last chapter, did you? I hope not. I¡¯m working on my sarcasm and joke quality. No, I was concerned about Logy meeting Heidschi¡ªif that was indeed Heidschi¡¯s sheep. Yet at the same time, I was excited to meet Heidschi! And to be able to maybe have a conversation with them! So my emotions were both wild and confused, to say the least. Hastily, only half-thinking, I spelled out, ¡°DO NOT EAT¡± The butterfly hovered closer.
Context
I added a word. ¡°DO NOT EAT¡­SHEEP OR HUMAN¡± Fortunately, Heidschi and their sheep companions weren¡¯t moving very fast. There were definitely multiple companions. I could parse several sets of hooves crunching through grass and twigs. But given that this wasn¡¯t a mass wave-motion of dozens of sheep¡­I was getting a little more worried about them. ¡°STAY BACK,¡± I said. ¡°FOLLOW. DONT BE HUMAN!!!¡± Then I blinked. This could be a teaching moment for her, depending on how I framed it. ¡°ILL SHOW U HOW TO BE FRIENDS, LIKE ACTUALLY. YOUR WAY WAS BAD. DID NOT KNOW WHAT THAT WAS¡± The butterfly gained some distance, fluttering into a tree. Still I read her message:
Okay. Let¡¯s hope your way really is better
I sensed no confidence. Somehow, though, that message gave me hope. An ¡°okay¡± at least suggested she was open to changing and learning. That or I lacked the head-voice to hear the sarcasm¡­ Urgh, if I kept worrying about sarcasm, I¡¯d just re-ruin my day. I pushed that idea right into the idea trash for now. And I picked up the pace, speeding toward the source of commotion. A butterfly like a deep-purple specter was following me around, but not so directly that I looked haunted. Good, she had some idea of stealth. The trees broke right before a half-meter drop. At the end of the slope was a well-worn path, the sort of thin meander that might have started life as a stream. Now it was dry as bones. Heidschi was walking through, a bonnet over tresses of yellow-white hair. How they maneuvered through the woods in such a fancy, flowing version of a peasant¡¯s dress, I¡¯d never kno¡ªoh wait, magic is real. Several sheep marched with them, all of them looking just as downcast. Except one at the front, who was twice as jittery, and still letting loose little bleats. As I burst through the foliage and stopped at the edge, Heidschi stopped and turned. An authoritative raise of a drumstick kept the sheep from getting spooked or stumbling. It wasn¡¯t a shepherd¡¯s crook, but it actually extended in their grasp to the length of a cane. A few seconds passed. Heidschi looked at me carefully, the glasses-shaped cantrip over their eyes giving them flashes of color. Oh, wait. I hadn¡¯t actually appeared before them in cat form before, had I? I transformed on the spot, trusting that any fear this sparked would be short-lived. ¡°Meeeh!¡± the sheep cried, but as the smoke of transformation drifted away, it was clear they¡¯d hardly moved. Now I was crouching awkwardly on the slope, so awkwardly that the edge crumbled beneath me. I straightened up and teetered onto the path. Heidschi kept staring. Then they giggled. Which made me giggle. Why were we giggling? Then again, why not? It made me feel better about the way I¡¯d barged into this, and in a weird way, it gave me hope that I could help all the sheep here relax. Seeing Heidschi raise a hand to their cheek like that had a chance to stop them from laughing was disarmingly cute. Doubly so was the way they curtseyed in that flowy, many-layered dress.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Which made me curtsey too! I grabbed the hem of my shirt and put one ankle in front of the other, then jerked at the waist. No way this was correct, but did we care? The sheep around us weren¡¯t joining in, though. Their eyes and shifting feet told us they were both anxious and confused. At least they weren¡¯t seeing me as a threat¡­not that I could imagine them beating me up. ¡°Okay, okay,¡± Heidschi said to themself, getting over the laughter. ¡°Let me make a proper introduction. My name is Heidschi Opus, but you might remember that.¡± Suddenly they seemed overcome by excitement, breaking form again. Hands clasped against their face. ¡°I¡¯ve been wondering where you were!¡± I nodded eagerly, trying to say, ¡°Me too, me too!¡± But right after that, I gestured to the sheep. Especially that one in front, the only one who wasn¡¯t watching Heidschi. The shepherd nodded in reluctant agreement. ¡°Would that we had met in better circumstances. I need to go.¡± With a single fierce shake of my head, I furrowed my brow, made a fist, and patted my chest. A gesture I¡¯d never made before, but one that just sort of happened. In fact, it was kind of¡­gorilla? Were girls supposed to do this? Ah, whatever. I pulled the spirit board out of Inventory and spelled out, slowly and carefully, ¡°I HELP!¡± A hand of surprise covered Heidschi¡¯s mouth. ¡°Oh, no, you don¡¯t have to.¡± At that, I made a relaxed smile. Yet another person who was far too reluctant and modest. Where had I seen that before? I didn¡¯t have any place to be. Heidschi was not doing this alone! I pointed down the road ahead, and Heidschi reluctantly accepted. Inside, I cheered. We started walking again, and though my SP had been holding out incredibly well all day, I knew I¡¯d have to conserve at some point¡ªso I un-Morphed back into cat form. Then Heidschi began to explain. ¡°This is Sniffle,¡± they said, indicating the sheep in front. Indeed, that sheep was sniffling like a bloodhound. ¡°She¡¯s scented a trail of blood and magic.¡± Here it was: the sad reason for this journey. My spirit fell a notch. ¡°Two of our flock are lost.¡± Only two? Okay, that part was a relief. The others must¡¯ve been sitting and resting someplace safe. Still, that was two lives. ¡°Mraow?¡± I ask-meowed. I wasn¡¯t ready to ask specific questions. For now, I just wanted any info they could give. Heidschi was biting their nails. ¡°Whatever¡¯s done it has to be nearby. Magic so dense that Sniffle senses it this easily¡­has to be old magic, old and deep. I don¡¯t believe it¡¯s going to be safe for you.¡± As usual with humans, I was way more worried about the shepherd than about myself. Not to mention other animals! But no matter. I decided not to reply¡ªI¡¯d just prove my strength with my actions. But I did stop to offer something. I poofed a couple of things out of my Inventory: a Fire Spell and a Lightning Spell I¡¯d never given back to Bayce. (Two Fires, a Lightning, and an Attraction Spell remained.) Yes, a Spell was a serious thing, and these Spells didn¡¯t entirely belong to be, but this mission felt important. I figured Bayce would want me to help others¡­within a reasonable scope, that is. This was more than doable, and if it would help keep these squishy sheep and humans safe¡­ Heidschi, of course, was reluctant to accept. But they did crouch down and examine the two tiny bundles. They started to turn them down. ¡°But I¡ª¡± ¡°Maow!¡± I cut that right off. ¡°Okay!¡± Their head flounced down in an insta-bow. The timing was so great that it made me laugh again. Luckily, since I was in cat form, it just came out as weird spitting, and I don¡¯t think Heidschi registered it¡­or felt the spittle that rained on their bonnet. The gift certainly made me feel better. Of course, logically, Heidschi wouldn¡¯t be going into battle at all if they had no way to defend themself. I¡¯d seen them use some sort of flock-enriching Skill the first time we met, too. But I figured you could never be too careful. Eventually, the winding path led to a flatter expanse with only scattered trees, and more dirt than grass, pounded flat by feet. The ground was dry and lumpy. I began to notice crisp vines underfoot. Sniffle especially noticed them, pausing to snort at more than a few. She was also bleating louder. What she was smelling, I could easily guess. There was no sign of magic or movement in these vines¡ªon top of the fact that they were clearly dead. Strange things happened here, though. We made a turn around a broad oak tree and froze. On the ground was a corpse with unusual, haunting wounds. Vines, constricting the body like barbed wire, were eating into it. ¡°Had eaten,¡± maybe¡ªthey looked just as dead, after all. The boar¡¯s still body was pockmarked with holes. But instead of blood bubbling from the wounds and pooling underneath, there was something thick like mud, and darker. Heidschi stayed back, and so did I. But Sniffle trotted ahead, and Heidschi didn¡¯t try to stop her. She smelled the body and its vines in a panic, as if she was both fascinated to learn and terrified to find out. Her bleats became cries. She was loud enough that I seriously worried about other animals, or magical dry things, crawling out and strangling her. Again, though, I followed Heidschi¡¯s lead, and only after Sniffle had finished sniffling did they raise a long drumstick and beckon her back. They ran calming hands along her short wool and whispered in her ear. Then it was down to business, and things went solemn. ¡°She thinks they¡¯re lost,¡± Heidschi said. ¡°The other sheep¡­lost for good. But that doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t warn others.¡± Or save them, I thought, and the air grew thick with sheer eerie feeling. The muck coming out of the boar¡¯s body wasn¡¯t just flat gray. When it caught the sunlight breaking through the oak leaves, it shone bright with every color of the rainbow like a puddle of oil. If richer colors in greater numbers meant stronger magic, then whatever being did this might be beyond our powers. Heidschi¡¯s words, in my mind, confirmed it. ¡°The killer¡¯s not from this world,¡± they said, fingers curled at their lip. 124. Sheer Possession I got the feeling that I, Heidschi, and probably also Sniffle had the same two theories about how this boar was killed. Those dry, magic-tipped vines snaking around and through the body¡­either they were the weapons or the perpetrator. And if the magic wasn¡¯t native to Vencia? Then whatever it was, it could be the makings of a bigger existential threat. So if I didn¡¯t destroy it all now, then¡­ Wait. I looked around and, sure enough, saw a glimpse of a bluish-black wing in the trees behind me. Logy was watching even now. She just hadn¡¯t chosen to do anything. Considering the way the body and the old magic was just kind of, well, hanging out, maybe that was an okay call. Heidschi and the rest of the flock waited as Sniffle raised her nose and began to swivel her head around. ¡°Oh no,¡± Heidschi murmured. ¡°So the magic¡¯s not just around the body¡ªthere are traces of it all throughout this place.¡± Now that they said that¡­I noticed something else that was all throughout this place. More crunchy vines than the path before, and several with the heads of dead flytraps. Dead? Were they really? It looked like it, but if none of those vines we¡¯d passed by on the way here had enough magic for Sniffle to stop and smell them, then¡­ Hm, then maybe magic could be sent through, like a current through a spine. And maybe that could animate¡ª Something trembled, deep in the ground, shaking the trees. Birds rushed up and scattered. Alright, that was it. I Morphed, stepped forward, pulled out my sword, and with two hands thrust the tip into the earth.
HP 99% (847/855)
SP 12% (399/3280)
ATK 954 (x6)
INT 5 (x0 +5)
DEF 111
WIS 312 (x3)
SPD 132
Heidschi muffled a gasp. The sheep shivered, but I didn¡¯t hear a bleat out of them. I only heard them drawing closer together. And I stood firm, looking straight ahead¡­as if that rumble had come from in front of us, and not down below. Something rolled to its feet. The boar corpse¡ªsurprisingly fast. It charged. The body was ghastlier in full motion. It hadn¡¯t started to rot, but its movements were wrong, like this was a sack of bones being shuffled around by a puppeteer. Bones wanted to explode from their skin. A black-and-rainbow fire lit up the body¡¯s eyes and glinted in its wounds. The boar curved around me and went for Heidschi, but I whipped out the Debug Blade, holding it horizontal, hoping I could cleave right through. I did, but the two halves of the pig kept going. Two sacks of meat collided with Heidschi and tackled them to the ground. Now the sheep were panicking. So was I! I whirled around, ready to lob a Spell. Heidschi was already on that. Which was terrifying, and brave, because if a Fire Spell burns the thing right on top of you, soon it¡¯ll probably burn you. Flame roared and spurted up from the boar corpse, which tumbled to the earth as Heidschi backed away and swatted out the embers on their dress. The fire died out, impossibly fast. It wasn¡¯t that the fire had done nothing¡ªthe flesh was now charred and crisp, and the organic matter of the vines was gone completely, burned away to dripping ash. But it had done nothing that mattered. In place of the vines, there were writhing cords of pure magic. In place of the lost skin and organs was¡­not much, but did the boar need it? Those cords of magic had bound the remains back together. Magic dripped from the husk. As soon as the corpse was back in one shaky piece, it roared and thrust forward with its tusks, to skewer Heidschi. Lightning arced through the air and into its side. I knew I hadn¡¯t done much, but at least taking a Spell in its side shoved the boar away from the shepherd. This allowed Heidschi to dart backward, gaining a bit of distance, and pull out twin drumsticks.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Meanwhile, I didn¡¯t rest. I closed in with the blade. My only strategy was to hack and hack and keep hacking away. That body couldn¡¯t fix itself faster than I could chop it up, could it? In any case, I¡¯d try it. I closed in without fear, telling myself only to be as brutal as possible. Then I stopped thinking as much as possible. ¡°Brutal¡± was a good guidepost to have. Now I wasn¡¯t worrying about whether I was doing well or badly. A hit was a hit! I swung ferociously, putting all my near-thousand points of ATK into it. The first strike sent the boar to the ground with as much suddenness and power as a car crash. The next were stabs, slices, and bludgeonings with the side of the sword. I was cutting away skin with ease. The only part of this body with any kind of sturdiness was the bone¡ªand only because that was where the magic pumped most fiercely. This I cut away with ease too. Suddenly an undead killing machine had become so many loose parts. It was going down easy! And without a sound besides the odd grunt. The boar tried to dash through my bladework and gore me with those tusks. I simply hacked through the tusks. They shattered into dust. Once I¡¯d done that, the rest of the body disintegrated too, before my eyes. Skin and bones finally gave up. A hunk of dust was flying toward me. Almost like a shower of victory, like a¡­ Oh my gosh, why¡¯d I leave my mouth open?! The weaknesses of this darn blade continued to haunt me, and I would keep blaming its brain-changes for every foolhardy decision I made when I used it. I had stood there proudly with my eyes and mouth wide open as a cloud full of magical evil dust came flying at me. Immediately I retched and fell into a crouch. I dropped the sword¡ªnot on purpose, but that certainly brought me back to my senses. Enough to know that dropping that sword in the first place had been a truly horrible thing to do! Sheep cries sounded from behind me. The ground burst. It was hard to concentrate on the world around me when my insides began to twist. A nightmare image flashed in my mind of tentacle vines wrapping, constricting, crawling. Perishing, wilting¡­purged? Suddenly I felt a lot better. My eyes, once squinched shut, fell open and found a delicate cream light all around me. I felt a warmth inside of me, but especially in my core, where just seconds ago I had felt the deepest pain. In the past few seconds, a fairly quiet battleground had become choked with noise and motion. Yet somehow the first sound I picked out of the mess was a delicate drumming. Thanks, Heidschi, I said silently. Then I hopped to my feet, feeling the last of the inner pangs fade with the light. To my surprise, I found the Debug Blade not only still in front of me, but hanging. It had been picked up by a krigrie, one of many now swarming the area so much that I could hardly see the sky. Well, that explained it! This place was so busy and uproary because Logy had decided to do something about it. I grabbed the blade and felt its changes wash over me. Then I speedily put the blade away. I was definitely not using that again until I got a better Intelligence cantrip, not if I could help it. I was smack-dab in the middle of the swarm, and trying my best to analyze things, which also meant standing around like a goober. Who were we even fighting? Oh, right, those vines that were now popping up from the earth itself. They were thin¡ªas thin as the vines we¡¯d come across on our way here¡ªbut turned into catastrophic threats by their sheer volume, not to mention the threads and smoke of magic they all trailed and whipped around. Not to fear, though. We had lots and lots of krigries, who were latching onto the vines, getting as close to the roots as possible, and apparently biting into them. More than a few of their lives were lost as the vines counterattacked, strangling and claiming their bodies. But that wasn¡¯t all. We had lots and lots of sheep! Or more like eight sheep. But now, thanks to a new and more powerful rhythm created by Heidschi¡¯s latest drum pattern, they were encased in aura. In fact, the blurs I saw racing about looked even a little deadly. Huge red horns in imitation of the mighty ram, glowing hooves, and billowing aura along their whole bodies streaked through the battle, adding dashes like paint, as they fought off vines and spectral tendrils. I practically had nothing to do! Acting at all might stab through a krigrie, and frankly, we were losing enough of those. First I focused on getting out of the way. So I changed to my slightly more comfortable, slightly smaller-of-a-target cat form and darted through the fracas, feeling like a windshield as krigries butted against me. A vine snared me¡ªwrapping right around my torso. As much as I wanted to slip through and ignore it, the thing wrapped too tight and too quickly, and even at a touch, it felt sturdy. Way too sturdy for a floppy dry twig! I hastily used the Amber Beam, turning my head so the sphere would swing into the vine. It burned through. It wasn¡¯t much, but it burned, and in the gap between the vine breaking in two and those two halves joining back together, I moved. The lasso was loosened just enough for me to slip out. Then, with the orb still hovering by my side (and likely burning through a few more krigrie hides¡­sorry), I was on the edge of the battle. Actually, when I stared across, I could see Heidschi! But it wasn¡¯t like I could greet them. Their head was down as they drummed, focusing on a steady beat. Sniffle was at their ankles¡ªI assumed she¡¯d guided them to a place just beyond the danger zone. Which made me feel wary about where I was standing. Was there a chance the vines would get me here? Even now, Sniffle and Heidschi were edging backward. I started doing the same. But it hardly mattered. Within a shockingly brief amount of time, the battle had ended. It happened in a flash. The overwhelming buzz of the krigries fell a few decibels as the swarm switched from fighting to hovering. Then they took off in a mass toward the south. One brownish-black cloud, done with their duty. Thanks, Logy, I thought. I didn¡¯t feel reluctant about giving her that credit. I just felt a little put off by how easily she could summon millions of billions of little insects who were, by all appearances, ever-ready to put their lives on the line. Did they feel bad about it, or were they more like¡­drones? Or did they make their own peace with it? Maybe I would just never understand bugs. To say nothing of Heidschi. What was even going through their head? ¡°A guardian angel saved my life and it came in the form of a crispy swarm¡±? Heck, it might not even be a good idea for me to explain who brought them here. Well, for now, I sped around the ruined clearing toward Heidschi and the regrouping, auraless sheep. Not through it, in case any bit of magic lingered. Sniffle had relaxed. That was a good sign. Though I saw plenty of exhaustion in that face, I also read relief. The other sheep had a few injuries, clearly from whips and squeezes, but all looked steady on their feet. So did Heidschi, who only looked scuffed. Before anyone could say or spell a single word, we heard a fluttering. Not the mass migration of birds or insects, but a smaller sound from silk-thin wings. A young woman had appeared nearby, looking¡­deliberately mysterious. She didn¡¯t speak, of course, putting the onus of explaining who she even was on me. Darnit. At least Heidschi grinned and curtseyed, taking this in stride. 125. Spratchin Welp, I didn¡¯t save any lives today. I didn¡¯t even find out where those sheep bodies went. I didn¡¯t gain any Experience, either¡­because apparently slaying a corpse that had technically already been slain didn¡¯t count for that. I lost a couple of Bayce¡¯s Spells, and I even lost Chora¡¯s trust¡ªand that hurt, whether or not the loss was temporary. One concretely good thing came from all of this: I acquired several flytrap vines, which could be used for a handy cantrip. Man, if any of those magically reanimated plants had been smart enough to use the one selling point of flytraps (i.e. the mouth that is the trap), we all might¡¯ve been in trouble. Probably not, though. I guessed that when it came to small fry like that, enormous amounts of stronger small fry had a way of evening the odds. Which brought me to where I was now! Heidschi, Logy and I¡ªsurrounded by nine sheep, plus a sprinkling of krigries who seemed to be present just to prove to us all that Logy had participated and this was what she had brought about¡ªwere sitting around a stump and beginning, haltingly, to talk. Heidschi had brought out a tea set, using the stump as our table. Logy in her humanoid form was staring at it with something like indignation, but I was ready to use my paws and stop her from interfering, if necessary. Her tea was awful, and she should get tips from this shepherd I bet was a master. And the tea smelled good! Heidschi brought out several sachets of leaves for us to examine and choose from. The hospitality of Vencian humans toward random and potentially violent strangers was really something else. This selection was also to die for! Probably. I still had yet to try proper tea, and the concept of drinking hot leaf water still confused me. I wanted to Inventorize things just to get a brief idea of their names and flavors, but¡­that¡¯d be rude. ¡°This one you¡¯re smelling has pomegranate.¡± ¡­Oh yeah, and Heidschi was clearly happy to narrate. As I smelled all the various teas, Logy sat there near-motionless. Naturally Heidschi had done a brief self-introduction, and we had both thanked her for helping us out, but when the shepherd asked where she came from, the insect queen not only hadn¡¯t said anything, but hadn¡¯t gestured, or blinked. Only stared. It was pretty disconcerting, so much so that I swore she was actively and purposefully everything in her power to make a bad first impression¡ªaside from killing allies. But once I made my tentative tea selection (chamomile and mint), Logy sent me a message at last.
I don¡¯t want to do this
That really ticked me off. It was so easy! Look, I even had the spirit board in front of her. Not me! Heidschi wouldn¡¯t mind if she spoke like that. Nobody minded! She sensed I was angry. Instead of getting angry back, getting determined, puffing herself up, the way I wanted¡­she shrank back. Um? I¡¯d never seen her do that before. Her whole body drew inward. She hunched over and lowered her head. In somebody else this might be a ¡°sorry,¡± but from her, it seemed like surrender and defeat. Okay, um¡­she was trying to escape the situation. To me it felt like escaping responsibility. But clearly she was¡­nervous? I guessed I could show her mercy for that. I relaxed too, and Logy took this as a cue to un-Morph into her natural state. The butterfly landed on the edge of the stump. At least she wasn¡¯t flying away.
You did tell me you¡¯d show me how to do things. You still need to. I¡¯m lost
Well, you¡¯re acting like there¡¯s a blueprint¡­ It didn¡¯t seem that hard to me, being nice and polite to others. She might get it if she watched me¡ªbut on second thought, I¡¯d at least seen mammals having tender moments on and off throughout every single one of my lives. Why can¡¯t Logy have, like, a few hours? Finally, I turned to Heidschi and succumbed to my lot in life: explanation. I told them select details about how Logy was a mysterious young lady who didn¡¯t really mean any harm, who had sensed a great evil threatening the Wood.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. The way Heidschi responded made it all seem very simple. ¡°Then that¡¯s just what we need,¡± they said, pouring three cups for two mouths. ¡°All the humans in the Wood and living around it are in a tizzy about it. We still haven¡¯t sorted it out. But you two¡­¡± ¡°TAIPHA AND LOGY¡± ¡°Taipha and Logy, you seem as if you have a lot to share.¡± It couldn¡¯t be helped! It couldn¡¯t be stopped! My exposition continued. But saying it all with the smell of some admittedly interesting plants made the process more enjoyable. Now I told Heidschi that a friend and I had met DeGalle in the Kaugs, and that another had visited Outlast during a big meeting. ¡°What we just encountered might tie it all together,¡± Heidschi said, the drama of their words punctuated by the sounds of nine sheep lapping up bowls of flower-flavored water. ¡°I was just in Outlast too, so I¡¯ve heard things¡­ Dangerous beings underground, vines that match the wounds on the dead hunter¡­¡± They blinked, sorting through the stories in their head. ¡°Or maybe certain parts don¡¯t connect. Nothing was stopping time back there. As far as we know. And the death in the park might have been by anyone.¡± The shepherd had made a good effort, though. The more I heard, the more I wanted to make like Chora and help out on this latest journey the Outlasters were planning. ¡°IN TWO DAYS,¡± I said, remembering things Chora had said lately, ¡°LOTS OF PEOPLE R GOING NORTHEAST?¡± Heidschi nodded. ¡°And with a vengeance. If they¡¯d thought this was an ordinary death in the wild, they wouldn¡¯t be so eager and¡­incensed.¡± They shifted, and took a long sip. ¡°Sometimes this has happened and done nothing but set off a cycle of revenge. More people die, less and less is accomplished. But¡­I¡¯m thinking about joining them.¡± They looked down, pointedly, at the dirt around us which, not far away, had explode with vines. Even now, the dirt in the clearing we¡¯d used as a battleground was ripped up in criss-crossing fissures. ¡°¡­LOGY,¡± I said. ¡°CAN YOU PLEASE GO DOWN IN THE HOLES THE VINES MADE AND SURVEY THINGS?¡± Her response was immediate.
Yes I haven¡¯t explored all of the underground yet I want to. It¡¯s just so dangerous
My eyes widened. Yeah, Logy knew way more about this than she had let on. And to be fair, the subject probably hadn¡¯t come up¡­ Pieces were coming together for me. There was a very high chance that the vine stuff threatening villagers in these woods was something very vast, very deep¡­ Connected to a big root network? Something that could stretch both east and west? And maaaybe reach the Kaugs, and the woodland center, and produce rusty time stones? Well, there was a chance that I was just reaching. But we needed guesses that were a little bit wild, didn¡¯t we? Logy climbed onto the edge of her teacup and stuck a butterfly proboscis into the drink. We watched, both of us no doubt wondering if the water level was actually changing. It wasn¡¯t like we could see it. But I supposed that the fact she was doing this at all was a step forward. It is, after all, an unspoken rule that you ought to try the food and drink offered to you as a guest, unless there¡¯s a good chance you might be hurt or murdered. Then she sent me a message¡ª
I¡¯ll do that
¡ªand flew. The waning daylight caught her wings as she curved up over the treetops. Maybe I should be treating her less like royalty and more like a dog. Which was to say, in a catty way, that maybe she would turn out to be loyal. For the time being, my conversation with Heidschi shifted to things about each other. I tried to shift the focus to the shepherd, both because I couldn¡¯t speak as voluminously and because I was more eager to learn than I was to share. Heidschi didn¡¯t have many non-sheep companions out here, which was both a blessing and a curse. ¡°But I love the sheep. I¡¯d have to, to be doing this in the first place. I shear them, clean them, resolve disputes, I¡¯m a forager, veterinarian, midwife¡­¡± They always had a smile in their voice. A person I¡¯d expected to be reclusive and quiet had turned out to be thrilled to speak. ¡°WHAT DO THE SHEEP DO FOR U?¡± I asked. Was that the wrong question? ¡°I MEAN BESIDES BE UR FRIENDS!¡± ¡°Hm¡­ Some would say they provide a reliable flow of capital in the form of wool.,¡± they said. They giggled, and their voice fell like they were sharing a secret. ¡°They keep me employed. They keep my parents from worrying about me! Some would say that. I myself might even say that. But really they allow me to travel, just about wherever I want, without ever being alone. And I get a lot of free time.¡± This had been a long and complicated day, but Heidschi had made it sweeter, even if this tea tasted disgusting to my cat form and catgirl form alike. I left the shepherd that evening without feeling bitter, without worrying about how the night might end up. I wondered what Logy might scrounge up. Most of all, I wondered what great things might happen tomorrow night, since I¡¯d invited Heidschi over to the cabin. Fine, so it wasn¡¯t my cabin, but I couldn¡¯t imagine Reed hating Heidschi on sight! Chora would probably be okay with it too once some hours had passed¡ªright? Then again, it wasn¡¯t her house either. And with Heidschi yawning the way they had toward the end of our meeting, I didn¡¯t feel right about trying to drag them to Reed¡¯s door just to get an okay. We were decently far north from the place, and most humans had sad legs. Plus, the two of us really wanted to meet again. You don¡¯t get many chances to connect with a wanderer who has no cell phone. I circled back and headed south, back home. 126. The Last Beach Party of Your Life Silhouettes in the window gave them away. Two familiar women were downstairs, standing, shifting, chatting. The shorter one picked up a large rectangle, a shadow that blocked both shadows from view. Then that was gone, and the taller shadow suddenly flitted away. I was watching Reed¡¯s cabin from not so far off. Along with the light in the den, the one in Chora¡¯s room was on. I hated to think that while the rest of the cabin was active, she might be lying like a slug, demotivated thanks to me. I certainly had been. Before I could get close, the front door popped open. Bayce was hanging in the doorframe, loosely, like she¡¯d fall out if she let go. She smiled. ¡°How¡¯d I know someone was out here?¡± We both walked and met each other in the middle. As we went, I remembered that sparkling hairpin I still hadn¡¯t given away, wondered how it¡¯d look against her uniquely colored hair. Also, for that matter, the bunch of gold and the lump of topaz. When was the right time for these things? Was this moment too lighthearted? Just lighthearted enough? How much did it matter? Before any of that, I felt I had to tell Bayce and Reed and Chora (if she was not inert like a slug) about what happened and how now I really wanted to go out to defeat those plant vine beasts in a couple of days, and also at the same time how I wanted everyone to take a vacation, because we were really pent up and we needed to blow off steam just as much as we needed to help others, or even more!! ¡°Did you get any vines?¡± Bayce asked. It was so abrupt that it felt like a non sequitur. I stared a while before realizing she was thinking of the cantrip. I nodded, and without another word, Bayce spun on her heel and opened the outside door to that cantrip-making basement. As I followed her in and my front paws touched the edge of the hatch, a voice called from the cabin. ¡°Try not to leave the door o¡ª" Reed stopped herself. Bayce was already trotting down the stairs, she couldn¡¯t hear anyway. So instead Reed simply stuck her head out the door, smiled wide, and gave me a wave. ¡°Meow!¡± The door gently closed. *** I was the proud owner of two conventionally functional hands. Not only that, but with my current Evolution having Morph at such a high rank, I had ample opportunity to use them. On its own, this ability wasn¡¯t exciting. But it came with other fringe benefits, including¡­ The ability to write things in my head that were actually legible! In this case, the message was, ¡°YAY BAYCE HELPED ME GET A CANTRIP YAY YAY YAY!!!¡± But you already read that, didn¡¯t you? I could also¡­draw beautiful cats! Much unlike what I scribbled when I first got this power! Never mind. Somehow that was still hard. This cat looked like a rectangle with legs, or not even. Of course, though, the flashiest benefit of this new cantrip was my ability to open doors. To demonstrate, I squeezed the cabin doorknob and nudged the thing open. With ease! Bayce offered polite applause. Instead of making this cantrip a totally new piece of jewelry, we opted to add a gem to the strand that held the reading cantrip. I¡¯d chosen an orange stud, something that reminded me of calico spots, amber guard towers, and the savannah east of the Kaugs. ¡°And how is the other cantrip?¡± She must have meant the Intelligence booster. I gave her an enthusiastic meow and nod. Bayce rubbed her hands together almost deviously. ¡°Great! Great, then the template works! I¡¯ll make a better one.¡± I didn¡¯t expect a precise numerical answer, but I had to ask anyway: ¡°HOW MUCH MORE INT WILL IT GIVE?¡± She shrugged. ¡°Maybe ten times more? I¡¯m still going to be a little careful about it. Don¡¯t want to short out your brain.¡± Well, ten times five was fifty, and when I had 50 INT, I was, I dunno, probably Level 15? 20? I was competent then. And I wasn¡¯t too much more of a genius now! I could definitely use the Debug Blade with more finesse if I had that on me. Bayce watched me pick up a fork and twirl it around. For about fifteen seconds I wibbled and wobbled it, fascinated by how easy it was. Then I looked at Bayce. She wasn¡¯t fascinated. In fact, now she looked impatient. ¡°So¡­now to the bugbear in the room¡­¡± Reed spoke up from the den. I always forgot how well sound could carry on the first floor, and how easily people could ¡°hide¡± in plain sight. ¡°We just want whatever you¡¯re comfortable sharing,¡± she said. My throat went a little dry. I put the fork down, came around the counter that separated the den and the kitchen, and held out the spirit board. ¡°CHORA?¡± Reed nodded from the couch.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. ¡°I TOLD HER WE SHOULD ALL GO TO A BEACH TO RELAX. SHE GOT ANGRY AND UM¡­I GOT ANGRY AND TOLD HER WE ALL HATED HER.¡± As soon as I spelled the word ¡°hate,¡± something came over Reed. Her body slumped¡ªslightly, but it was there. Bayce had been watching me spell words too. ¡°Why would you¡­¡± My eyebrows twitched. ¡°BC U DO HATE HER!¡± That temper leaked out again, and I wasn¡¯t sure I regretted it. ¡°SOMETIMES U HATE HER, SHE HATES U, REED N I HATE IT BC WE JUST DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO. SO IF WE ALL LEFT THE HOUSE FOR ONCE, APOLOGIZED FOR ONCE¡­¡± It looked like gears were turning in Bayce¡¯s head as she stared into the middle distance. Reed, though, straightened up and spread her arms. It took a moment to register: she was offering a hug. ¡°You want to come here?¡± My first reaction was defensive. Why would she think I need a hug right now? I¡¯m just explaining myself, and I just told them that nobody wants to be around an angry person. But then I looked at myself. I was trembling, again, and I hadn¡¯t even thought my anger this time was that serious. Clearly it was. I accepted Reed¡¯s suggestion and sat by her side. Before I could even turn, she held me. And though she didn¡¯t squeeze me so tight it restrained me, I felt my body calming down. I took deep breaths in rhythm with hers. ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± she said quietly. ¡°We know that none of us meant to hurt anybody.¡± At that, I broke the hug, and spelled another message. ¡°BAYCE N CHORA R ALWAYS TRYING TO HURT EACH OTHER.¡± ¡°No,¡± Bayce said, in more of a groan than a word. ¡°We just¡­we remember the times when we hurt each other, and they were so frickin¡¯ bad that they changed the way I see her. Sometimes I have patience for Chora. And I¡­guess she has patience for me. But other times, we just don¡¯t.¡± When she put it that way, the solution seemed so easy. Just have more patience! It sucked that things weren¡¯t so simple. But Bayce seemed to be fighting with herself right now. She took a seat at the far end of the couch, by the armrest, and put her head on a pensive fist. ¡°Maybe I¡¯m the jerk. But I can¡¯t be the jerk! Everyone else seems to like me! It¡¯s literally just her!¡± ¡°Bayce,¡± Reed said, ¡°we all have flaws. That¡¯s nothing to be ashamed of! And if you are really dead-set on it¡­then after this summer, you never have to see each other again.¡± Bayce looked at Reed like this was the first time it¡¯d occurred to her. The words were an ultimatum. They had weight to them. ¡°Yeah¡­I suppose you¡¯re right.¡± ¡°WELL,¡± I interrupted, ¡°THATS WHY I WANT A VACATION. ONE LAST GOOD TIME WITH CHORA. CAN U DO THAT?¡± I wasn¡¯t just asking for the sake of a good last memory. In my mind, there was no reason for them to ¡°break up.¡± Both of them just had to grow. If I could mature even after reaching a pretty ancient cat age, then obviously human beings could get smarter after age nineteen. ¡°The beach seems fun,¡± Bayce said. ¡°NO I DIDNT ASK ABOUT THAT!¡± My head shook furiously! (I hoped Reed ducked out of the way of my hair.) ¡°Okay, fine! Um¡ªsorry. I didn¡¯t mean to explode. It¡¯s just hard. Um, yes. I can do that.¡± My cyan friend had done an emotional one-eighty within about eight seconds, and now looked seriously bashful. Reed tentatively reentered the talk. ¡°Taipha, has Chora agreed to this vacation?¡± Oops, um¡­no, she hadn¡¯t. I¡¯d gotten so carried away with how satisfying the concept of this was that I hadn¡¯t thought about the logistics. I shook my head. ¡°Did you bring it up to her?¡± I nodded. ¡°I don¡¯t think we made you aware, but that hunting expedition is moving toward a beach. Did you¡­pick the same one? The one in the northeast corner?¡± What the heck did I know about where the stuff in my unmapped territories was?! I nodded again. Reed held a fist to her mouth. ¡°That would have frustrated Chora further. She doesn¡¯t think you¡¯re taking things as seriously as she is.¡± Bayce let out a raucous laugh. With remarkable speed and timing, both Reed and I swiveled and glared hard at her. She lost her smile and got really bashful again. She coughed. ¡°What I meant by that laugh is, i-it¡­doesn¡¯t necessarily have to be that way. For some people, showing up for war in good spirits is a sign of utmost disrespect to whoever you¡¯re about to fight. I think if whoever this enemy is saw us fighting in beach gear, they¡¯d be ticked off, and know how little we fear them.¡± Then she gulped. ¡°That wasn¡¯t why I was laughing, though. I was just imagining how shocked and dismayed Chora would be if she saw us running over to fight in swimsuits.¡± She traced a circle on the armrest. ¡°Yeah, I do make fun of her a lot.¡± ¡°Teasing is what friends do, sometimes,¡± Reed said. ¡°But I think you¡¯ve been using it to paper over your frustrations¡­¡± Bayce shook her head. ¡°You don¡¯t have to tell me twice.¡± That was one topic down and a million more to go. ¡­Wait, this one still wasn¡¯t really resolved! This vacation still wasn¡¯t happening for certain! But at least Bayce seemed like she was warming up to the idea of helping strangers alongside the rest of us¡­maybe? It was hard to know, especially because she gave us a simple ¡°goodnight¡± and turned in after that. And after I un-Morphed due to a lack of SP, Reed told me that Chora wasn¡¯t ready to talk to anyone. She was, indeed, self-exiled in her room. On one hand, that didn¡¯t make me feel good, but on the other, she was doing exactly what she¡¯d insisted she needed to do when angered: keep to herself. Reed had faith she¡¯d come out when she was ready. But she did not feel good about the concept of Heidschi coming over when there was a chance Chora would severely dislike it. ¡°Um¡­who is this person?¡± she said, once Bayce had disappeared for a peculiarly early bedtime. ¡°I trust you not to invite weirdos over, Taipha, but now is probably not the time.¡± ¡°IM SORRY,¡± I said. With Bayce gone, I was more fully aware of just how close Reed was to me. Her presence was as reassuring as it was nerve-inducing, which didn¡¯t make any sense¡ªbut it could¡¯ve just been the rollercoaster of emotions that was this day. ¡°NICE SHEPHERD! BLOND HAIR. BLOND DRESS. SOFT VOICE. GIGGLES. SEWS. U DONT KNOW STILL?¡± Reed shook her head, though she was still clearly searching her memory banks. ¡°THEY SEWED UR¡­¡± Ack! Maybe it was better not to remind Reed of the horrible damage I caused her quilt to suffer long ago. But it was too late now! ¡°¡­UR QUILT. REPAIRED IT.¡± She brightened a little. ¡°Really! Well, we¡¯ll see how Chora feels tomorrow. I might ask you to take them elsewhere instead, maybe by the pond.¡± That solution was so elegant it hadn¡¯t even occurred to me. I practically spilled out info, my paw moving at hyperspeed. Another benefit of the hand-eye coordination cantrip was that even when I technically didn¡¯t have hands, I found myself feeling more dexterous, found movements like this more effortless. My front leg felt like a total machine, twitching toward letters¡ªand glad Reed could keep up. I told her Logy might be reliable for something, and might be coming back to me tomorrow with valuable new knowledge. She told me the clumps of mysterious ore Chora brought back from Outlast were here for a reason. That reason was the most dazzling thing I¡¯d heard all day. ¡°They¡¯re crafting materials,¡± she said. ¡°I can make Equipment.¡± Did this woman¡¯s talents never end?! *** ¡°¡­and certain alloys conduct certain types of magic well. Mine draws out mostly pure aura with a bit of additional force and heat. It¡¯s not the strongest¡­¡± A minute ago, I had been watching Reed and her burlap sack of ores like a hawk. Now I was barely blinking away the sleep. I did want to learn more. I did! But how could I help falling asleep after such a long day? And curled up like this in Reed¡¯s room? Granted, I was on a random cushion on the floor across from her and the bag, not in her¡­strangely intimidating bed. But I was so comfortable and tomorrow was so close. Reed chuckled. ¡°You¡¯re bored, I bet.¡± ¡°Mrah!¡± I writhed my head back and forth. ¡°Oh. Just sleepy.¡± Through the blur of my eyelids, I saw her look around. As if anybody else was watching! ¡°Well,¡± she went on, ¡°maybe I¡¯ll just continue?¡± Yes yes yes. She sifted through the ores, naming alloys and weapons. It all went in one ear and out the other, but the journey of the words was thoroughly calming. 127. Dash! I had big plans for today. The color of the sky that hung above me was a deep, infinite blue, a mirror to the possibilities ahead. At long last, I was going to run around in the western and central Wood and explore those hidden Map squares sprinkled seemingly randomly around there. I mean, look at this! Look at it! A4 was out of the way, so I had no need to hang around the Kaugs yet again to finish out the Quest, but what about B4 right next to it? Or the rust stone place in B1? Or, worse yet, the entire western wing of Mirror Pond up in B2? I mean, how did that one still count as ¡°unexplored¡±? I felt like I¡¯d explored Mirror Pond like five times already! D1 was only semiexplored because I¡¯d ended up there yesterday. At the time, I¡¯d been too distracted to bother exploring it more. So I had very specific areas I wanted to target: B1, B2, B4¡­ C1¡­D1, D4 (which was also semiexplored, yet incomplete, for some forgotten and unholy reason), and then maybe D5 if I was feeling gutsy. The big question of the day was, how fast could I explore a single square? Ideally I¡¯d get back to Reed¡¯s cabin before evening, so I could greet Heidschi and see everyone else greeting Heidschi. It¡¯d be something! I¡¯d never seen my friends interact as a single unit with anyone else, except, well, me. Then again, if Chora still needed space, I¡¯d have to shift things around. It¡¯d be a little disappointing, but not as disappointing as disappointing Chora would be. It was still morning out here, and ¡°evening¡± probably meant around six o¡¯clock, so I figured I¡¯d have¡­eight hours. Depended on how long it¡¯d take me to finish breakfast. Reed had discovered that having breakfast outside, on occasion, was a great idea. A cool breeze was blowing in, carrying the slightest hint of pond scent. It was also colliding with the trash and, luckily for the two of us, carrying the aroma of garbage directly away from our picnic area. Earlier Reed had told me it was time to take out the trash again. I considered going with her soon, but then again, I didn¡¯t want to scare the raccoons too bad. Weaklings. ¡°You don¡¯t seem to like them very much,¡± Reed said after a bite of plimpberry pancakes. How she could not only stand their taste but also get apparently zero benefit from their SP-restoring properties, I¡¯d never know. Bayce was just as absurd, but she was away right now. ¡°It¡¯s not just that time they rampaged through the savannah, is it?¡± I shook my head, a fish spine dangling from my mouth. With the spirit board, I pawed, ¡°WERE NOT HUMANS, REED. WE BOTH EAT MEAT. WE COMPETE OVER RESOURCES N STUFF. THERE IS¡­NO REASON FOR ME TO LIKE THEM?¡± Thinking about it, though¡­I could get along with animals. Or, rather, an animal, one at a time. But not a whole throng of them. A single raccoon with a leg in a trap and a heart-melting smile? I might help. Although last year I might¡¯ve stayed to myself. ¡°ITS FINE IF U LIKE THEM,¡± I added hastily. ¡°I GUESS THEYRE CUTE¡­IF UR A HUMAN¡± She laughed. ¡°Trust me, there are very few animals cuter than¡­¡± Then she trailed off and stared away. Why didn¡¯t she admit it? Humans thought cats were cute. Ergo, she should find me cute. Right? Unless she was feeling embarrassed because she didn¡¯t see me that way. But¡­what way? Did I look powerful? Studly? Weirdly like a dog?! I didn¡¯t press, though. I didn¡¯t want to rock the boat, especially not when the ground already seemed to be rocking. A strange and transcendent hum entered my skull, and when I looked toward the cabin¡¯s outdoor hatch, I swore I could see traces of translucent magic hovering up from the cracks¡­ ¡°You¡¯re sure you don¡¯t want to watch?¡± Reed asked after a sip of juice. Nah, Bayce had this Intelligence cantrip under control. After having that plus-5 modifier around my neck for so many hours, I had utmost faith in her ability to not scramble my brain. Besides, I didn¡¯t want to take a detour into that basement. I was too impatient for the day ahead. Within the past three minutes, I had slid eighteen more fish into my mouth. Metefry were pathetically small. Delicious, but small. Instead, I heard from Reed about what her day would look like. She sighed. ¡°It should be a long one. A good, long, satisfying, bone- and head-aching kind of day. Assembling Spells with Bayce is already tedious, but I¡¯m going to be crafting Equipment on top of that.¡± Those were two things I did regret not staying to see, but surely there¡¯d be other times. Someday we might return to Reed¡¯s favorite mountain, where I¡¯d watch her forge a new sword, a real masterpiece. ¡°We¡¯re going to need the best weapons we can get,¡± she continued, ¡°if the threats in our future are as bad as everyone¡¯s fearing¡­ This blade will be like a test run for me. Something to show my skills and some crafting concepts I¡¯ve been wondering about.¡± A smile flashed on her face. ¡°Unless you¡¯re already well-armed enough, I could even make you things!¡± ¡°Mah?¡± ¡°Not another sword, though. You have that! But I was wondering if you might be interested in armblades. Or, rather, front limb blades.¡± She gestured to her elbows to clarify. Ah! That was actually an amazing idea. Why hadn¡¯t I thought of that? If I had scythes on my front legs, just above the paws, that could take my fighting style to another level. I¡¯d be an all-out blade dancer! The idea reminded me of all the contortions I¡¯d do when I used Air Cutter at the same time as a bending jump. My only problem would be making sure to avoid slicing my own stomach. Oh, and whatever secured the blades would have to be sturdy. Blades that wobble out of place don¡¯t really hit their mark. I gave her my most enthusiastic meow and most twinklingest of eyes. That made the whole prospect of crafting stuff way more exciting for me! Plus, now I wasn¡¯t just eager to show them all my vat of cash. I was thrilled by the idea that Reed might be able to use it to buy amazing ores and power us all up. I guessed we could just buy weapons, but wouldn¡¯t it be so cool if the strongest weapons were the ones your friends made from scratch? But I stopped abruptly. A figure moved behind her, almost like a ghost. I caught myself staring¡ªthe worst possible move. Chora had descended! She looked at me. I looked at her, shifting my gaze from her eyes to her mouth. Reed simply observed as Chora came closer, ensured there was no plate of food between me and her¡­and bowed. ¡°I hope you¡¯ll forgive me,¡± she said. I couldn¡¯t help myself. I jumped away from the food, Morphed, stood up as tall as I pleased, and then bowed at the waist, over ninety degrees. ¡°Meow,¡± I said. Asking me to forgive her was excessive. I was the one who told her we hated her! Even now, the guilt was returning. I glanced up in time to see Chora falling to her knees. What was this? Was she¡­how was there a way to out-apologize me right now?! Her eyes stayed glued to the earth. ¡°No, I went over the line. Not just that day, but so many other times.¡± Well, in that case, I was the worse one because I¡¯d been tactless and witless about a thousand times in my life! You can¡¯t outbow someone whose face is in the dirt! I fell on the ground in the shape of a worm. ¡°This has to stop,¡± Reed said. ¡°Not to diminish your feelings, but you¡¯re both taking this a little too¡­gravely.¡± Yeah, we would literally burrow down to our graves if we allowed this to continue. I stood up, and Chora stood up, and after I wiped the dirt from my brow, I beamed and spelled out, ¡°UR TOTALLY OK! I LOVE U. UR MY FRIEND. ALWAYS¡± The words spilled out. They were nothing but reverberations of thoughts I¡¯d had before, but seeing my own hand reach for them, in a form as condensed as this, made me tear up despite my smile. I tried to blink the tears away and hoped Chora didn¡¯t notice. I wondered for a moment if Chora would hug me. Instead, she nodded, a single steady time. ¡°And you¡¯re okay. Thank you.¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. We all watched each other for several moments. The magic in the hatch rumbled on softly beneath our feet, and the dust seemed to settle. ¡°Now, about the beach,¡± Chora said, hands behind her back. It was so sudden, and the subject so thorny, that Reed and I visibly flinched. But the trajectory Chora was taking, as it turned out, was nothing to be nervous about. Though it did baffle me. ¡°You know,¡± she said, ¡°it really is beautiful over there. If I go there, and you go there¡±¡ªshe pointed to me¡ª¡°and we defeat whatever entity is over there, then maybe¡­it might be nice to relax in a different environment.¡± I needed another moment for some more dust to settle. She squinted at me. ¡°What?¡± Eep. My humanoid form¡¯s face was too easy to read. ¡°I¡¯m reasonable,¡± she insisted. ¡°It just takes me time to consider the possibilities, and to not be angry about them.¡± Reed took a deep breath, then clasped her hands together. ¡°It sounds like things are starting to fall into place, then!¡± she announced. ¡°But, uh¡­Taipha, you should really reconsider the situation with¡­that person¡­¡± ¡°Reed,¡± Chora said, ¡°you need like a secret code or something. That was very transparent.¡± ¡°W-well, um¡ª¡± ¡°Look, if Taipha¡¯s bringing a date to the cabin, I don¡¯t mind. In fact, I need some human interaction right around now. Bring them in!¡± ¡°A-a-a-a-a-a-a¡ª¡± Reed stammered so hard that a single ¡°a¡± became a wobbling moan. I wanted to pound my fist on the table! ¡°ITS NOT A DATE! ITS JUST PERSON!¡± This was a little too much socializing for me. Now I felt like I was overstaying my welcome¡ªwhich I suspected wasn¡¯t true, but my nerves and the blood rushing to my face said otherwise. I was blushing, and for once, I knew it. I poofed back into cat form, waved with my paw, and darted away, setting sights on what was, after all, the day¡¯s goal. I had eight hours¡­or more like seven, after all that chicanery. ***
Current Location: Mirror Pond West (S.B2)
I was racing around the edge of the pond, giving no care to the colorful wood ducks enjoying their day. Dashing through the grass, then tromping through the wet dirt of the shallows, I banked, turning so close to the water I was practically falling in. I charged. Ducks flew. I kept going. The trees at the northern end were speeding into view, unimaginably fast. I was unimaginably fast. As I checked my Map, I estimated that I could make it fully around the pond¡¯s western half in¡­three minutes. Sure, my legs would be howling, but that was the name of the game! For today, at least. Today was a day of endurance. Okay, maybe there¡¯d be a little fighting too. Come on, that duck was practically in my way. All the rest had swum closer to the pond¡¯s center already! You know better! I thought, pouncing in mercilessly. My bare paws were enough to deal a hard clonk to the duck¡¯s side. ¡°Quaah!¡± they screamed as they hurtled into the spray.
EXP: 93% (4198/4500)
What was that, about 200 EXP? Maybe half of what I would get from utterly murderizing them. But again, I wasn¡¯t prizing Experience just yet. Experience would come. I was back to rounding Mirror Pond¡¯s western curve. With the whole pond essentially shaped like a bean, I expected no surprises. The tough part was navigating the obstacles and pits in the way: small, but at the right speed, remarkably deadly. Imagine tripping on a pebble at a hundred kilometers¡ªI¡¯d rather not. But I found that the less I thought over my split-second twitch reactions, the better I did, the less clumsy I was, the faster I went. That was unsurprising. All my learning in the School of Wisdom had taught me this. One of the better prizes of Intelligence was the knowledge and the willingness to know when to put it away. Foundational knowledge was enough to know what a rock is. I checked my Map again, glad that it didn¡¯t fully cover my vision. About twenty-five percent of the earth below me was still visible, and that, as I¡¯d discovered today, was enough in a pinch. Wow! I actually ran all the way around! But the Map still wasn¡¯t complete¡­what gives? I slowed to a stop, then mulled it over. Well, there was a huge vat of water right next to me¡­but the idea of needing to dive into it made me shiver. Not because of water, but because of the glitch water Logy had subjected me to. I hadn¡¯t needed to do anything like that to uncover Mirror Pond East, had I? No, it was probably the far-west end I needed to check out, farther from the water. And that I did, galloping through the bushes, through briars and all their tiny thorns which hurt my hide like pine needles hurt plate armor.
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 57% (17/30)
Amazing! If only I¡¯d been using this strategy from the start. Then¡­then I¡¯d be such an exercise junkie that my leg muscles would be perpetually shredded, but hey, I¡¯d have had that Quest done way earlier. Without skipping a beat, I hopped north, toward the land of the rust-colored stones. If any remained, that is, after DeGalle had transplanted them. As I remembered her and all the weird events happening across the Vencian Wood, I started getting excited about that expedition. Not nervous, or worried, or remotely scared. Just excited. I didn¡¯t know about those villagers, but everyone else, in my eyes, was eminently prepared. At the very least, I was. Logy was, if she was coming¡ªand I felt certain she would come. She¡¯d support me¡­in her own way and for her own purposes. DeGalle was pretty powerful, seemed like she could pull useful strings. And I had the power of a very uncommunicative and hands-off goddess on my side! I had enough job security for an extra life if I needed it.
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
Excuse me. I never said you had nine extra lives.
There¡¯s NINE?!
Um¡­no.
A message from Sierra (the goddess of nekomata) was such a rare and attention-demanding event that I had to stop roaming. Just give me a straight answer. How many more lives do I have?
Maybe I should have never revived you. It¡¯s making you brazen!
I rolled my eyes. No, I just don¡¯t have all the information.
Okay, okay, you have like one more life. If that. It takes a lot of energy on my part to do these things.
I nodded. What¡¯s Logy?
What¡¯s with you?
I can¡¯t miss a chance to speak to you when I¡¯ve got it.
I¡¯m flattered, but also, why can¡¯t you enjoy the thrill of unfettered discovery?
I-I enjoy that every day! I¡¯m sick of ¡°discovering¡± stuff about deadly strangers, just tell me so I can make sure my friends don¡¯t die!
But you already know, right? You¡¯re asking this about a week too late. Logy¡¯s trying to get back to her Arkmagus. I don¡¯t know where they are. I don¡¯t even know if what she¡¯s saying is true. I look at this planet through your eyes and the limits of your Map.
That¡¯s why you want me to rely on her, kind of¡­and that¡¯s why you¡¯re pushing me to do this, I thought. You miss¡­what¡¯s their name? Chi?
I told you, I miss a lot of things. I miss food, for Pete¡¯s sake. You are a fishing line cast into the water. If you refuse the mission now that you know it, all our lives will go on. That is your free will.
¡­I have free will? What? Am I in Otherland right now?
Well, it¡¯s not like I can kill you from the celestial realms. Only antagonize you! But you¡¯ve just discovered that you can still see okay through the edges of your vision no matter how many pesky boxes I make fly toward you. You could also slay me, to be honest. But you don¡¯t wanna do that.
To be honest, no I didn¡¯t. This¡­this was giving me a bizarre feeling. It wasn¡¯t just Chora bowing to me in a situation that felt inappropriate. There was also Logy, scouting out areas at my command without hesitation. And now Sierra?! Or was this a double reacharound of irony, a case where she was saying more things she didn¡¯t mean, deliberately hiding even more information just so she could metaphysically boop my nose and say ¡°gotcha¡±? Was the fact that I had that thought a sign that I was incredibly smart now, or just a sign that I was too gullible and too far gone?! Either way, it felt wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong! I decided not to reply to Sierra this time and to just go on my way. She¡¯d receive enough incriminating information about my thought process anyway, and was probably laughing herself silly. I had a mission to uphold! That mission: do what Sierra asked. That irony¡ªif only that¡ªwas never lost on me. 128. Woodland Circuit
Current Location: Pond of the Night Queen West (S.B2)
There must¡¯ve been a time where a small but significant bubble of land and air in the Vencian Wood simply seemed not to age¡­when the aura of unfamiliar stones spread wide enough to make the leaves fall at half speed, to keep the grass young without it truly living. Now, though, when I looked at the spot my Map still labeled with an icon of three rocks, where a mysterious sword had been jammed too far in the rock for me to take, I saw a gash in the earth where DeGalle¡¯s team, presumably, had cut. None of those geometrical stones I¡¯d once seen on the surface could be found. If Logy were close by, I¡¯d probably ask her if she could look inside this hole too. I could toggle her tracker on and off. With the way her icon was flitting around in the general southeastern quadrant, I assumed she wasn¡¯t underground, possibly hadn¡¯t started yet. She was apparently still alive ¡­she just hadn¡¯t started making her way back to me. I could do my own chores once in a while. I paused in my journey and took a quick look inside the gash. As soon as I did, a trace of miasma billowed into my face. Oh, I¡¯d almost forgot: this hole reeked of magic. And I bet it went down deep, so deep that nobody had yet explored it¡­ And it was narrow, still narrow. I crawled down as far as I could. It was like squeezing down a megaphone. When the world around me was dark and misty, and my hind legs were solidly above my head, and my back lightly pressed against the opposite wall¡­I paused to hear what I could hear. Rubble, moving. I smelled what I could smell. Creatures, dragons, reptiles. You get to a point underground where the soil is so dry and hard and mostly-just-rock that nothing should be living down there. But if that abandoned underground castle had taught me anything, it was that Vencia didn¡¯t have a rulebook for this kind of thing. For the moment, I summoned up some muscle and pulled myself partly out of the funnel. Then I Morphed, but only briefly, long enough to pull myself back onto the surface. It saved a few seconds. And I was supposed to be saving seconds! Quickly I dusted myself off. Then I un-Morphed and licked myself off¡ªew. When dirt started tasting this bad, I didn¡¯t know. Either way, it was time to storm north and go on exploring. *** I butted heads with a ram at the northern edge of B1. It really hurt. Those horns were practically denting my skull. Or maybe literally, at this rate! My point is, blood would start getting in my eyes if I didn¡¯t back off. Guard! With a wild buck of my head that sent the ram¡¯s head whipping off, I backed up and felt my bones grow stronger. I followed it up with two more Guards, knowing the weird icky feeling I got from stacking these Skills was much better than bleeding out. Besides, I was getting all the SP back in a moment, so what was the harm? How dare this ram charge into me out of the blue! One minute ago, I¡¯d just torn my way out of the tree line and paused to gasp at the meadows that stretched beyond the Wood when this ram whinnied and crashed into me. This wasn¡¯t even a mountain! It was, like, a cliff at best. A really shallow cliff that looked out on a seemingly endless plain studded with cities in fog. Was this really territory for a ram? How?! Stop! Of course, fighting them was really in my best interest. The ram was bleeding too, just below the horns. Had I headbutted them back with so much force that it hurt us both? Oho. That was enough of a triumph for me. I ran back in, preparing a Slash. The ram, cocky as ever, charged right into me. I took another headbutt, feeling much sturdier this time, and while I dug my back heels in, I flung a claw at the ram¡¯s flank and scored four long lines. The ram gasped¡ªthen its horns suddenly burst with red aura, sending me rolling. It was all fairly harmless.
HP 90% (768/855)
SP 58% (479/820)
ATK 159
INT 98 (+5)
DEF 278 (+150%)
WIS 104
SPD 132
Now that I was engaged in combat, I didn¡¯t really wanna give up the chance at more EXP. At the same time, I had no desire to murder this ram or go home with even more leftover meat. My Meat Locker still had half of a hell marmot! That locker was so useful it was useless. So I had a thought: What about Morphing and using the Debug Blade in live combat?Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡­Yeah, it was about time. I didn¡¯t feel any actual danger from this ram, and at long last, I had a kinda-working strategy with this thing. Enter clunky sword mode¡­
ATK 318 (x2)
Not an amazing Attack buff, but I was going for Speed here. And there was nothing faster than a blunt whack with a sharp edge. The ram barreled toward me, too committed to their charge to even pause in surprise at my quick transformation. Just before their horns connected with my stomach, I brought the blade down. Thwack! The ram gasped again¡ªand then so did I, because their horns still mashed into my stomach. But I had the strength to sidestep and the ram did not. They collapsed onto soft grass, a glassy but still-living look in their eyes. In that face I saw, more than anything, disbelief that a creature like me could be stronger than them. If I had a sheath, I might¡¯ve been using it to stand over the ram in a very cool fashion. This day is mine, I would think. Instead, I squeezed one arm against my side so I could then slide the sword in and have it stay in place. This day is mine, I noted. Sliding my sword against my arm this way produced a trail of blood. Whoops. That was as good a sign as any that I should put away this stupefying blade and go back to cat form. Luckily, there must¡¯ve been a slight delay on my Experience gain, because then my Level Up happened and washed away the pain!
Level Up!
Lv. 31 ¡ú Lv. 32
EXP: 11% (503/4650)
HP 100% (883/883)
SP 100% (855/855)
ATK 165 (+1!)
INT 96
DEF 115
WIS 109 (+2!)
SPD 137 (+1!)
I lingered on the windows long enough to deduce that I had no new Skills. Then I refocused on my goal, turned away from the vista, and took off. *** I glimpsed a lot of intense things on my way. A magpie attacking another bird¡¯s nest¡­two long-antlered stags clashing against a pack of wolves, their families behind them¡­gackerns or alligators snapping in the deep. But I was almost in a trance. A serious trance. I¡¯d been serious about very few things in my Vencian life. And yet when you let the complexities of life melt away and whittled it all down to a game, a single goal¡­ Don¡¯t stop anymore! Don¡¯t stop for anything!
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 70% (21/30)
Current Location: ??? (S.D4)
There¡¯s another partially explored space just east of here, I thought. No¡ªno, my legs are giving out. They were burning, no worse than they had when I raced Chora. Scratch that. It was worse. And logically speaking, no wonder; I¡¯d been sprinting on and off for longer altogether than just one single race. It was getting dark out, and now that I was far enough south, I was back in swampland. The ground was trickier to navigate, especially with the patchy shadows thrown down by the willows. I¡¯m going to be late, I thought, if I stay out any longer. It felt like my brain itself twitched. You¡¯re just saying that because you¡¯re a wimp! I raged! (Against myself.) The burst of seriousness stopped, coinciding with a perfectly timed stumble. But in a flash, I got my footing back¡ªand silenced my thoughts. Funny how that was so much easier to do now that I had higher Wisdom, yet I was pretty sure that as a cat, I hadn¡¯t had such conflicted monologues. Probably because I never monologued, as a cat. I bounded over a stretch of scummy water, then took some meandering turns to make sure I¡¯d explored this land. The temptation to stop and rest was only growing greater and greater, but, I convinced myself, so was my ability to resist it.
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 73% (22/30)
In fact, instead of telling my ¡°other¡± head-voice off this time, or reveling in the victory that was clearing yet another Map square, I found myself drifting off. Almost as if while one self yammered about my legs and how destroyed they surely were, and a quiet self pressed the gas of the car-cat that was my body, another one looked with starry eyes at the futures that lay ahead. At those cities that studded the land in the far distance of the northernmost edge. One self looked at the darkening swamp path and navigated. The other wondered: what kinds of skyscrapers were those? Or were they castle spires? I thought I¡¯d seen swooping roofs and onion bulbs, and a dome or two. Then again, maybe I was making things up, smashing ideas and half-forms together. I had purposefully tried not to look at them for long. They promised a world beyond the Wood. One I would eventually¡­go to? There was no rush for that, though. There was seemingly no pressure at all. I only had the urge to explore what was beneath me: the spread of a very self-contained Map. Whether that was strange or perfectly natural, I couldn¡¯t even guess. But it gave me an existential thought, which was nearly enough to stop me in my tracks. Once I¡¯ve gotten strong enough to stop fearing the Vencian Wood¡­once I¡¯ve helped the people around me¡­what is there left for me? 129. A Patch Before the Update It was no longer shocking to feel my legs throbbing like they were filled with quivering lava plumes. It wasn¡¯t shocking to hear everyone in the cabin gabbing away so vigorously that I¡¯d sworn I could hear them long before I hit the front door. It wasn¡¯t surprising at all¡­that or I was too conked out for it to register. Conked out and zonked out from the long, successful journey. What did shock me was turning the corner to see a new picture on the wall. ¡°Mraow!¡± It was such a strange surprise that me reeling at the sight almost knocked me into Reed¡¯s leg. She¡¯d just let me into the cabin, letting me take in the festive smells of dinner, the sounds of community¡­and this painting, which she would have to answer for. What even¡­why? I felt so conflicted as I stared up at it. The painting, framed in shining cherry wood, had been hung precisely over the gash that Logy had torn in the wall that terrible time she fought me in the night. It had been my fault in a way, and now¡­in a sense¡­I was covering it up. Yep, it was a picture of me. Me as Reed had first seen me, with yellow-orange tabby stripes. Sitting upright, amber eyes straight forward¡­hold on, I had amber eyes? I was baffled. I was honored! I was embarrassed. Was a picture of me just going to hang out here for, like, forever? Watching everyone¡ªjudging?! Alright, fine. I couldn¡¯t deny it was kind of great, and even hilarious. It reflected a way more serious and royal image of me than maybe I deserved. Then again, I deserved whatever Reed saw fit to bequeath upon me. It was her cabin, after all, and if she saw no shame in covering up ¡°my¡± mistake with an oddly grandiose picture of me, so be it. ¡­And she cared enough about me to make such a detailed painting. Were my height and body shape accurate, were the stripes exact? I couldn¡¯t tell, but¡­that was the color of my fur. From memory. All those thoughts had gone through me in the span of about five seconds. Reed hesitantly asked, ¡°Are you alright? Was this a bit much? ¡­I can take it down¡­¡± No, I thought, and strongly. Rubbing against her leg, I tried to reassure her. She kneeled and ran a hand along my back, which was a good first step. Then I used words. ¡°ITS GREAT,¡± I said. ¡°IT IS MUCH, BUT IM MUCH¡± Reed chuckled. ¡°Oh! Uh¡­I hope that¡¯s a good thing.¡± Frankly I didn¡¯t know what that thing I just said meant either! Yet it sounded true. We all wandered back to the table¡ªthe table that was being sternly watched by my double. The fact that everyone had already met up by the time I arrived meant that in one way, I ¡®d failed at my goal. Ideally, I¡¯d have been back before Heidschi even arrived! But my sheer mapmaking progress overcame that regret.
Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood
Progress: 77% (23/30)
Besides, it was enough to see them all looking pretty content! There were even a few bowls of greens edged with the kinds of decorations I¡¯d seen on Heidschi¡¯s teapot. They¡¯d gone above and beyond with gifts, and I¡¯d expected nothing less. ¡°¡­you do have to compromise, sometimes for cost, sometimes for comfort,¡± Heidschi was saying as Reed helped me find a seat. The glasses cantrip sat idle by their plate. Chora took a bite of dandelion leaves. ¡°That¡¯s true with traditional uniforms too,¡± she said. ¡°But then¡­have you ever infused an outfit with magic? Sometimes it turns out that the old stuff was less comfortable because it had to be.¡± ¡°Ha! I wish I could. Without my bard knowledge, I¡¯m pretty talentless, as far as magic goes.¡± ¡°Aww,¡± Bayce said, ¡°but we all have a little magical aptitude! Practice makes perfect!¡± ¡°But there¡¯s so much else I want to practice¡­that I¡¯m much better at.¡± As Heidschi started going over the responsibilities of shepherds, I looked around. Behind Heidschi, in front of Heidschi, under the table at everyone¡¯s legs including Heidschi¡¯s. But there were no sheep! And nobody else was concerned about this! Were they just at some sheep garage for sheep storage? Was there a sheep hotel or day spa? Clearly nobody was going to tell me unless I made like Bayce and thrust an arbitrary question into an unrelated conversation. I found a not-too-terrible place to insert said question and went ahead. ¡°WHERE ARE THE SHEEP?!?!?!?!¡± Everyone stared for a moment. ¡°That¡¯s quite a lot of punctuation,¡± Bayce remarked.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! ¡°Um¡­¡± Heidschi wiped their glasses and slid them back on. ¡°What happened?¡± Actually, that was another thing that confused me. I spelled out a new question. ¡°WHY DO U ONLY WEAR THOSE SOMETIMES?¡± Now Chora and Bayce but especially Reed looked uneasy. Reed blurted, ¡°Taipha isn¡¯t from around here! She may be impolite on accident.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine, thank you. I just didn¡¯t grow up seeing. Sometimes it¡¯s more relaxing to leave them off.¡± At first that answer seemed bizarre to me. I would not feel at all relieved to not know where the food on my plate was without touching it. But given the amount of times I¡¯d wanted to block out flying boxes or shut out the sound of the world¡­yeah, actually. A good bit of the expressions on my friends¡¯ faces came through in their voices anyway, so I guessed Heidschi wasn¡¯t even missing much. ¡°GOT IT. SORRY,¡± I said. ¡°I WAS ALSO CONFUSED ABOUT SHEEP¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Heidschi dug through the bag at their hip to pull out, uh¡­a hand-sized circular capsule. Reed tensed, but Bayce lit up. ¡°I¡¯ve been so curious about those!¡± The capsule had two halves, one cream and the bottom one white, and could pop open if Heidschi¡¯s thumb decided to tap the S in the middle. This was¡­oh no¡­ ¡°I-I don¡¯t really¡ª¡± ¡°Yes! Yes! That¡¯s so amazing!¡± Bayce cried. ¡°Do you, like, throw it at rabid animals and bonk them on the head, and then all the sheep come flooding out?!¡± Chora looked her up and down, but said nothing. There was food in her mouth anyway. Heidschi sighed a little. ¡°Well, to anyone who may be uninitiated, this is my ¡®sheep ball.¡¯ It holds sheep. And they, um¡­¡± The shepherd bit their lip. ¡°They love it there. They really, extremely love it.¡± ¡°It¡¯s like opioids in ball form.¡± ¡°You may be joking,¡± Heidschi said, ¡°but it¡¯s true. They are pretty much addicted.¡± They sighed again, more dramatically. ¡°I should¡¯ve never gotten this thing, but¡­it¡¯s much cheaper than a day spa.¡± ¡°And now they won¡¯t let you get rid of it,¡± Chora figured. ¡°No.¡± ¡°But it does get them battle-ready,¡± Bayce said. ¡°Yes, sometimes, because if you let them stay inside for long enough before you release them, they¡¯re so angry to be back in the real world.¡± Wow! D¡¯urr, how could I move us away from the ethics of Sheepmon¡­ Reed seemed about to say something, but Heidschi stopped them with placating hands. ¡°Now, I can assure you I rotate them out, I have them eat grass, I sun them¡ª¡± ¡°OK WHENS DESSERT?¡± I had eaten every last scrap of fish in the buffet (which might have been every last scrap of fish in the house, given how long ago I¡¯d gone fishing with Bayce). While I highly doubted I¡¯d want dessert, that didn¡¯t mean it couldn¡¯t make a great transition! Soon Bayce proudly waitressed in four platters full of desserts she¡¯d made with Reed two days ago. They looked as fresh as ever, their frosting sparkling like Bayce¡¯s teeth. Chora bit into one of the pastries, apparently for the first time. ¡°It¡¯s good,¡± she said. I involuntarily stared. She didn¡¯t give compliments so easily. Was this her making a strong effort? Handing Bayce the olive branch? Who could say? I couldn¡¯t even tell whether Bayce accepted it or not. She simply smiled back the way she was smiling at everyone and sat back down. ¡°Oh my,¡± Heidschi said. The table was flat-out overwhelmed by new dishes and old. She added in a voice that was a tad sulky, ¡°Looks like there¡¯s not enough room for mine¡­¡± Woah! Heidschi brought more stuff?! I had to make this happen! I Morphed in a flash¡ª Just as Reed bolted upright and snapped up some empty plates. Darnit. The Morph clouds blew over everyone and dissipated. Fortunately, they hadn¡¯t made Reed drop anything. ¡°¡­uh, Taipha, you can take these to the kitchen,¡± Reed said. Clearly she was compromising to make me feel better, but that didn¡¯t mean I couldn¡¯t accept the offer and feel a little grateful. ¡°Thanks,¡± she added. With arms full and far less clumsy than before, I trucked it over to the kitchen. Chores, chores, wonderful cho¡ªwait! I hadn¡¯t learned about anything¡­you know¡­plot-relevant! Weren¡¯t Chora and I, and maybe other people, heading out tomorrow? Had they discussed that without me, or what? Was the whole thing called off? No way, right? Luckily, when I got back to the table, everyone was discussing the gravity of our uncertain futures. Just kidding! They were talking about the pumpkin pie Heidschi had just unveiled. Reed marveled! Chora looked. Bayce¡¯s expression was profound, but unreadable. ¡°I have no particular opinion on this,¡± she said. Reed gave her an uncertain glance. ¡°Are you doing okay?¡± ¡°Oh, yeah, I¡¯m fine.¡± She stared away. ¡°You don¡¯t have to eat it if it¡¯s too bad or you¡¯re allergic,¡± Heidschi said, their tone neutral. ¡°It¡¯s nothing but a sign of affection and a custom of hospitality. It shows I¡¯m really ¡®pumped¡¯ to meet you.¡± ¡°Please don¡¯t say that,¡± Bayce said too quickly. Then, after a moment¡¯s pause, she started getting up. ¡°I have to go. To the bathroom. Not to jerk off! Darnit, why did I say that part?¡± Now she was sitting down again. ¡°Okay then,¡± she grumbled, to herself but also way too loudly for just herself. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll just sit here in a total, awkward silence instead. I¡¯m sure everyone would like that!¡± Well, she was right about the awkward silence, except that it stretched out and consumed us all. Reed slowly reached an arm around Bayce¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Let¡¯s all respect Bayce¡¯s jumbled feelings and not acknowledge what just happened, except insofar as Bayce might become ready to acknowledge it.¡± Bayce was staring through the table, beyond the beyond. ¡°Um¡­yep¡­¡± Heidschi looked just as confused as¡­the entire table. Then again, maybe I was the least confused person here. If this didn¡¯t have anything to do with sexy Victorian pumpkin maids, I would eat my hat. The shepherd packed up and put away the pie. ¡°I sense I¡¯ve brought about a traumatic response. Should I¡­take my leave?¡± I shook my head. ¡°NOT UR FAULT. THERES MORE TO TALK ABOUT! PLUS MORE TO EAT¡± Everybody looked to and fro. Then they tentatively started talking business. Reed could be the mediator¡ªI just enjoyed snapping people out of their funks. ¡­But as it turned out, there wasn¡¯t much to talk about. Apparently, they¡¯d gone over it pretty early in the evening. Chora said, ¡°We decided we will do it: go out all together two days from now, joining the Outlasters in their investigation.¡± ¡°COOL OK WHAT ABOUT TOMORROW?¡± Nobody had an answer to that. Reed was searching for words and ideas so clearly, I could practically see the jumbled words floating before her eyes. She pulled out the answer as slowly as a magician spits out scarves. ¡°Why don¡¯t we all train together?¡± she said. Chora gave it some thought. ¡°We can.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± Bayce mumbled, still looking at nothing. ¡°I would like that,¡± Heidschi said. ¡°But now that that¡¯s been settled, I guess I ought to leave.¡± Reed reached out a free hand that nearly reached their shoulder. ¡°Oh, no! No no! You don¡¯t have to feel unwelcome.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not that¡­¡± Well, we did have room for them. In a sense. I spelled out, ¡°WE HAVE SPACE! U CAN STAY IN THE DEN!¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Chora said. ¡°A person and a cat could sleep down here easily.¡± ¡°ACTUALLY UM¡­¡± I gave Reed a look that said, How much can I say before your face goes beet red? Apparently, just about nothing! ¡°Yeah¡­Taipha may or may not be sleeping down there tonight.¡± ¡°Reed,¡± Bayce said, eyes still elsewhere, ¡°I¡¯m so proud of you.¡± ¡°Okay! I think this dinner is over. For real this time!¡± 130. Training Hullabaloo It was pitch black in here, but not for long. My eyes adjusted more quickly than most. Even then, I didn¡¯t need to see to know exactly what I was feeling: nothing but blankets and body heat. I felt like a pillowcase heaped up and dropped on Reed¡¯s shins, eminently lazy and totally comfortable. She¡¯d shifted in the night and so had I. I¡¯d woken up once before¡ªmaybe kicked awake, who knows¡ªand drifted off again just as fast. Weird as the thought was, I had to think it: I¡¯ve made it. I¡¯d reached the summit of the household, fulfilled the long-or-not-so-long journey up to Reed¡¯s inner sanctum. She had accepted me¡ªas she always did, but as I always feared deep down that she wouldn¡¯t. And this was it, baby! The great culmination!! The drowsy aftermath of a late evening we¡¯d spent musing about all the ways my cabinmates could spend approximately ten thousand gold pieces. The prelude, I hoped, to many more nights with a similar climax considered appropriate for a girl and a cat. There was nothing else the readers wondered if Reed and I would do. Nothing else whatsoever. Especially not in a bed¡­those were for sleeping. Alright, I did have to admit I had a sense that something more was to come. For me, that meant deeper conversations¡ªinstead of a glimpse into her likes and dislikes, a vista of her world. Going into the towns that studded the landscape, not just seeing them. Speaking of seeing, the whole room was visible to me now. The slightest edge of light was coming around the edge of the curtain, painting the room in grays. It was tantalizing. It made me impatient. Should I apologize to Reed¡¯s sleeping form? Was it impolite to get up before her, even if you managed to keep from shaking them awake? Well, I had no idea about the first question, and as for the second, I was pretty deft. I stood up and immediately pressed on her ankle. A murmur sent a current of dread through me. Ugh¡­okay, that hadn¡¯t woken her all the way up, but I did not like how close that came. I stepped away, much more careful to step on clumps of blanket instead. Unfortunately, just shifting my weight elsewhere on the bed made the whole thing lean. At least Reed didn¡¯t mumble anymore. Then I jumped to the floor, and from floor to desk, taking care not to bump into any art supplies. If that cup of pencils and brushes had fallen to the floor¡­ooooogh. A gentle paw swept the curtain aside, just enough so I could see out. I could jump from here, couldn¡¯t I? That¡¯d be amazing! Had I even jumped from this high up before?! And if it was too bone-rattling, I could always Guard on my way do¡ª No. I couldn¡¯t do that. I had to uphold the sanctity of Reed¡¯s sleep. So I let the curtain go, and turned back, my gaze lingering on Reed¡¯s face for a moment. Then I headed for the door. It was closed¡­which meant I would need to Morph. Ah, that was fine. The transformation wasn¡¯t too loud. POOF. Never mind. It turned out it sounded like firecrackers in a place as silent as this. ¡°Mnneeeh!¡± Reed writhed and whinnied. Honestly, I couldn¡¯t tell if she was awake or not! I preferred to imagine ¡°not.¡± After twisting the doorknob, I opened and shut that thing as quickly as possible. Because although I was thrilled to spent more time with Reed, I was so so anxious to train. And I was more than ready to get to the next-next day! *** How long had it been since I last bothered with knocking ants and beetles off of trees? A month-ish, I guessed. (My perception of time felt mutilated.) But I was back again, studying a tree with a purpose. See, one of the incidental things Reed and I discussed last night were weapon possibilities, in a bit more detail than before. A big sword of magically conductive, heat-favoring material for her, and for me, wrist blades! Or foreleg blades? Not straight-out skewers, but curves like the ends of scythes. Shapes I could flow with. So right now, I was practicing the snakey movements I would need to avoid constantly stabbing myself. Envisioning the shapes of the blades wasn¡¯t actually that hard for me. Keeping them consistent and remembering they were there, that was the trouble. But the more time I spent adjusting to it, the better. Oh, and likewise with the golden blade for my nekomata form and the brand-new, heavier-duty Intelligence cantrip now hanging around my neck. The fighting styles of both forms should be in peak condition, especially because I couldn¡¯t use lots of Skills and stay Morphed. A beetle squirmed out of the bark. Sh-shishh! I whipped an imaginary blade with such ferocity and velocity that my entire body spun. Then I wandered back into position. The beetle had not moved. I had not hit it. Or even scared it. But I was focusing hard on envisioning just where my blade had been, where that cut had been¡­ I¡¯d missed! I¡¯d gotten overexcited. What would a Chora do in this situation? Work to stay calm, calmly focused on the target. Theoretically, it was easy to hit my mark. I pushed away the conscious thought of you better hit your mark and went for it. With a more controlled movement this time. My body still whipped like a live wire. I turned my head to find the image of a gash pulsing in my vision, hovering right through that beetle. Yay! For their role in my practice session, the beetle would be rewarded with destruction. Chewing on it reminded me that some things should stay in the past.
EXP: 11% (506/4650)
Likewise, my EXP reminded me that maybe theoretical moves training was not half as effective as beating up random people. But you know what? Speak of the devil and assorted kind young people arrive. The front door opened, meaning others were waking up, preparing to join in. *** As it turned out, Reed, Bayce, and Heidschi alike were fairly anxious to learn about each other¡¯s moves, and/or beat the crap out of each other. Reed kept advising us all to eat, but she wasn¡¯t fooling anyone. She herself was eating light, pecking muesli out of a bag. The moment I saw her take it out, I gave her a look. ¡°Mrrah?¡± ¡°Oh,¡± she said. ¡°This is muesli. It combines grain, nuts, and fruit in a way that will sustain humans for¡­wait, but you already¡­¡± The spirit board plopped onto the ground. ¡°NOT MUCH FOOD!¡± She sighed and smiled like she¡¯d been caught. ¡°We¡¯ll have a bigger lunch. Besides, I heard that if you exercise after eating, you¡¯ll get cramps.¡±This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°WHO SAID THAT? I EAT BEFORE RUNNING AND FEEL OK¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Bayce threw in, her back to us as she sifted through her Spell library for the day, ¡°but do you even remember what you ate yesterday?¡± I thought back. We¡¯d had greens¡­tea, or was that the day before¡­I might¡¯ve had the last of a marmot, or was that three days ago¡­ Augh, I had to stop falling for these gotchas. I flailed my head around and said, ¡°HOW DOES THAT DISPROVE MY POINT!¡± Bayce turned and grinned. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m just implying you¡¯re an unreliable observer not to be trusted.¡± ¡°FOR THAT,¡± I said, feeling wily, ¡°ILL ABSOLUTELY MURDER YOU IN TRAINING TODAY¡± She dropped everything, pretty literally. Dust was all in that sack of Spells now. A fire had swept through her eyes. ¡°Yes!¡± she cried. ¡°Bring it!¡± ¡­Wait, now? Maybe Bayce should¡¯ve been the wind or lightning person among us. Reed backed away, and Heidschi joined her, followed by a few calm and curious sheep. The shepherd was giggling, but Reed was still cautious. Meanwhile, Bayce had already flung out that wand I¡¯d seen her use in the castle dungeon. ¡°Uh, what are your terms of engagement?¡± Reed called out. She was a mere ten paces away, but it felt so far. As for the question¡­I was still wrapping my head around the whole thing. But I made a snap decision. I Morphed so a human hand could hold up the spirit board to all spectators. ¡°I USE NO SKILLS. BAYCE USES ONE SPELL. FIRST TO HIT OTHERS¡­CHEST WINS¡± ¡°What the¡ªhow did you even come up with that?!¡± Bayce cried. ¡°SEEMS LOGICAL TO ME! WE DONT WANNA WASTE TOO MANY SPELLS. UR WAND CAN CAST ONE SPELL A LOT¡± Bayce snorted. ¡°Okay, but why the rest of it?¡± ¡°CHEST IS VITALS.¡± Plus, it was a little easier to keep from mortally wounding someone if you went for their torso instead of, say, their neck, spine, or broader concussion zone. And besides all that, I sensed that even if she did hurt me grievously, I could take it. Maybe Bayce could take a hit too. I wouldn¡¯t even be clawing close to her heart. There was so much flesh in the way. ¡°Right, right. I see this as revenge for the time I Attraction Spell¡¯d you directly into my cleavage.¡± As uncomfortable as that moment had been, it did show me her defensive powers. On the sidelines, Reed had taken out her pompoms, plus an extra set for Heidschi. What was she doing with those things on such easy access? Well, I guessed Vencians probably had acres upon acres of Inventory space. ¡­Ah, it looked like she was teaching Heidschi cheers, too. Man, she put a lot of effort into this. I¡¯d do the same! This was my first real competition against Bayce! The first one sans cheating¡­I hoped! As I returned to cat form, Bayce unveiled a Spell and smacked it against the tip of her wand. It twinkled in a strange way, one not obviously like any Spell I knew, but I remembered the smell of it¡­ The match was on, and two cheerful voices roared, ¡°Go everyone!¡± She was flinging ice! The instant Reed and Heidschi cried out, a mere flick of the wand launched a dagger my way. A veritable ice bus stabbed into the earth. I jumped clear over it, but dang, that move was monstrous. Her fireballs hadn¡¯t looked like that! I decided not to speed ahead, not to just catapult myself into her. It was only fair. Well, maybe it was more than fair, considering what she could throw at me, but we¡¯d see about that! Instead, I stayed cautious and watched her wand. It spiraled through the air, almost relaxed, and spawned loops and loops of ice bullets. The hail seemed to hang motionless for a moment before barreling toward me. A few¡ªlike curveballs¡ªarced out of the paths I expected. Even with me dancing and hurrying through the gaps, I couldn¡¯t avoid them. Because sometimes there weren¡¯t any gaps. Crystals formed on my sides and back. I felt the cold eating into me, numbing my skin. Little hits could wear you down. Obviously that was Bayce¡¯s game here. Several bullets had aimed for my feet, no doubt trying to freeze me in place, but my feet, at least, had been agile. And they still were! She wasn¡¯t letting up. In fact, she laughed as she continued painting spirals in the air. Okay, that had to be wearing out her wand or something. What else would explain the sheer bullet volume? Not only that, but she was starting to fire frost needles, and while I doubted those would end me, the idea of them digging deep into my skin was super uncomfortable. Tempted to use a Leap, I instead jumped¡ªstraight upward, hoping to clear every single thing coming at me. I jumped, and a lot of the bullets crashed artlessly to the ground. But just as many of them chased me! Not only that, but because they¡¯d already traveled a little ways behind me, when they re-targeted, they aimed for the closest things to them. Meaning they sailed straight into my legs and back, preserving my chest! Hold on, that wasn¡¯t a victory. ¡°Mah,¡± I groaned as I ended up back on my feet. The ice was really getting annoying, starting to stiffen my movements.
HP 94% (826/883)
SP 99% (850/855)
Again, it wasn¡¯t about the damage. It was about my one weak point¡ªand getting to Bayce¡¯s before she could get mine. She must¡¯ve seen the determination in my face, because she took a step back and started to hold her wand steady for a change. A chunk of ice was forming, spreading out from the tip. She was¡­ Not getting a chance to form a shield on my watch! Almost without thinking, I charged ahead, head down. Gua¡ªI mean, don¡¯t use any Skill at all! Darnit! Well, now that I was running full-tilt, I guessed I was eating the damage. C-crick-k! My skull jammed itself into the ice block, splintering it apart. Blood flecked my scalp, but the most painful part was the sheer reverberation in my brain. That¡¯d keep scraping off HP for a while¡­
HP 85% (754/883)
I heard startled cries from the cheer zone. ¡°Holy crap,¡± Bayce muttered. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to go so hard.¡± But I did, Bayce¡­pride¡¯s at stake! I thought. Never mind the fact that my pride was pea-sized compared to whatever it had been, say, last month. Pride was still at stake!! I learned, belatedly, that after ramming the shield apart, I¡¯d landed on my back. Scrunching upright, I saw Bayce changing tack once more. Her wand arm was hoisted high in the air, her other palm toward me, like she was playing a game of keep-away. (As if her palm could stop me.) Though it was hard to see from here, I had no doubt the wand was forming yet another fun ice tool. I simply jumped, right over her hand, arcing precisely toward her chest. But she simply sliced. That wand¡¯s ice was ready to attack far quicker than I had expected, and had been refined into a whole sword. No¡­a prickly club?! In any case, it bashed me to the side, stabbing me in the stomach for good measure. It wasn¡¯t the chest, but it was terrifyingly close! Plus, its pain lingered. I couldn¡¯t tell why at first, but as I got up again, it started dawning on me¡­ Those barbs in the weapon were still stabbing into me. They came off! Like burrs! How do you even fashion ice into burrs? Magic?! Oh yeah, okay, that made se¡ª No! Now Bayce was charging for me with a ferocity I thought I¡¯d only see in close combat experts! ¡°Raagh!¡± she war-cried. As she smashed the club against earth¡ªand clipped my tail¡ªI caught sight of two cheerleaders performing synchronized swishes. Bless them, but it didn¡¯t raise my spirits at all. Nonetheless, this was not only scary and painful. This was an opportunity. At no point had Bayce applied ice armor to her chest. She couldn¡¯t perform scary attacks without bringing it close. It was right there!! And her heavy-looking club was right not there, grounded thanks to her latest attack. It almost felt like a shame to end it like this. This battle had been intense and thrilling at every turn. Now it was going to flare out in an instant, and because I didn¡¯t want massacre Bayce, it would stop not on a stab, but on a poke. In fact, I pitied her. Bayce was cool, sometimes, when she wanted to be. She shouldn¡¯t go out so ungloriously. The rattle of pompoms built suspense as I performed a tiny, tiny jump and reached out. But something ticked me in the chest. Her hand? No, because she didn¡¯t have the reflexes and reaction time to flick them back from holding her weapon that fast¡ª Oh, ow! It was cold! Distracted by the pain, my paws crumpled noncommittally against Bayce¡¯s chest just before I fell blankly off and hit the dirt back-first. At least I gained¡­what¡­200 EXP?
EXP: 16% (767/4650)
What a nice consolation prize from someone I could have instantly pulverized if I ever wanted to. As I lay there on the ground, I felt numb. And not because of the ice clusters¡ªBayce must¡¯ve deactivated those once the match ended, because now they were pooling all around me. Bayce shot up to her feet, stretched out her arms, and whooped with joy, reveling in victory. Ihhh. I came to my senses and got back on my feet before anyone else could step in. The cheerleaders did show one mercy: they were raving about how well everyone did. ¡°How did you do that?¡± Heidschi asked Bayce after the cheering finale. ¡°The club thing had bullets inside it.¡± ¡°Oh!¡± Then I heard something crumble. ¡°Darnit, I¡¯m gonna need a new wand¡­¡± Meanwhile, a hand tapped my back¡ªsoftly, yet not softly enough to keep from making me shiver with discomfort. That ice had melted into patches of cold, actively evaporating water. I twitched around to look Reed in the face. She asked if I was alright, and I nodded, but not without a groan. Then again, it was good to fight crafty enemies like Bayce, and preferably often. Not every foe out there was a standard squirrel. If I was going to go up against big viney monsters¡ªand worse¡ªI¡¯d need to get familiar with real, honest-to-goodness tactics. Reed saw the fire in my eyes. ¡°Next time?¡± she asked. Nearby, Bayce was joking and gloating. Thankfully, not in my face. Yeah, I¡¯d teach her next time. 131. Smokin Spandex I didn¡¯t just fight Bayce that day. Everyone was dueling everyone! Chora came down from the cabin roof and demonstrated Lyen-Chunst moves that she considered to be ¡°on the easier side.¡± I followed along as best I could, shortly before engaging in a match with her. We swayed, pirouetted, and swerved, and just as I felt the stiffness of the forms starting to melt into something like the ease of wind¡­she grabbed me and flipped me on my nekomata back. Then Heidschi went over their own powers. I already knew that depending on the rhythm of their drum, they could heal or strengthen countless sheep. What I didn¡¯t know was that anyone in Heidschi¡¯s ¡°party¡± could get the same benefits. Also new to me were the telescoping drumstick-javelins that could also be supercharged by the music. As Bayce and Chora swapped tips about elemental strategy, Reed and I decided to take on Heidschi¡¯s little army. Seven sheep, armed with arcing energy horns that reminded me of the capricorn-like gackerns, stared us down, guided by a thunderous drumbeat. Reed and I stood side by side. She whistled. Yes, I agreed. We had some pretty impressive enemies before us¡­ Oh no, wait. She was using one of those signals we¡¯d made together, wasn¡¯t she. One of the signals I mostly forgot and scribbled down badly in my notes. Frantically I checked the old notes in my System: Agh! They were as bad as I remembered! Pitifully, I meowed back. Then I realized that I shouldn¡¯t have said anything because that could be interpreted as a signal. Darnit, we really needed to practice! A moment later, the drums paused almost imperceptibly and the sheep charged. Like before, I pushed myself by not using any Skills whatsoever. Reed, though, was flinging charges of pink energy from her blade¡ªnot always, but often, the shockwaves soaring into the trees. Fortunately, she didn¡¯t try any more whistling. We fell into a wordless, meowless, whistleless routine against the sheep. Reed¡¯s impeccable footwork and sword handling would hold them off, though their clashing horns forced her into more blocks than slashes and blasts. I, meanwhile, worked on the sidelines, watching Reed for signs of struggle so that I could come in and pick off a sheep before they got in a nasty blow. It soon became clear that yes, of course we could overpower seven sheep¡ªeven seven deadly ones. Instead of flinging more rams at us, Heidschi changed their rhythm, and the horns disappeared. Now we had to deal with sheep coated in cream-colored aura whose eyes and mouths glowed and steamed. Reed and I took a moment to breathe. We were scuffed, and horns had scratched our faces and limbs, but all the cuts were only skin-deep. There were smiles in our eyes. Now the sheep were mobile flash cannons. Like lights going wild at a Hollywood debut, they flung spotlights every which way. The best defense, of course, was Reed¡¯s blade. I practiced agility by running behind her whenever she showed signs of preparing a block. Then I jumped out, always trying to tackle a sheep from the side so they could stop bleating burning light into our faces already. In the end, as seven sheep lay sleepily in the grass and recovered, a single drumstick javelin soared our way. Reed swatted it down with a flash of pink light. That light¡­what kind of energy was it anyway? Reed saw my curious look. As the javelin bounced to the ground, she said, ¡°That pink aura? It¡¯s just power and heat. I don¡¯t have the natural talent to refine it into fire.¡± What¡¯s wrong with pure power? I thought. Congratulations went all around. As we trained, we mixed and matched, fighting each other in different spontaneous ways and combinations. Chora was still a bit reserved, but we all shared more than a few booming laughs. And perhaps better yet, we ironed out both plans for tomorrow and useful commands we could use if we needed to. In between showing us her sword techniques, Reed shared a few whistles with us¡­and when we learned for sure that Bayce, Chora and I couldn¡¯t whistle, she made gestures and jotted down variations of ¡°meow¡± instead. ¡­I said this was ¡°perhaps better yet,¡± but would we even have a need for these tomorrow? More and more signs were pointing to ¡°no.¡± Namely, our transportation. We probably wouldn¡¯t split up and get lost as long as we had¡­ A car! Yes¡­there were¡­cars, in this world? It felt wrong. It shouldn¡¯t have, given the wacky luggage I¡¯d seen Reed rolling, and the fact that magic could produce fire and presumably also exhaust, but, uh¡­yeah. At least it was made of a combination of wood and metal. No electronic headlights and none of that familiar reek of petroleum. Instead of wheeling it out of a garage, Reed reached into that basement hatch, steadied herself, took several deep and tense breaths¡­and then, like a magician, pulled out a fully formed buggy! Bayce clapped frantically, and I meowed in approval. Judging by Chora and Heidschi¡¯s steady gazes, though, this was nothing unusual on Vencia. The shape of the thing was somewhere between a Model T and a dune buggy. Not a single dab of paint tried to liven it up, but its natural reddish-bronzish-grayish mix gave it character. So did the dents and bruises all along the hull. Make no mistake: this brick had been sent flying. Reed had loved it and repaired it all the same. Windshields circled the whole vehicle, several inches thick all around. It was open-top, which kind of seemed like a security oversight until I figured they could magic up the roof with a button in a flash. More importantly, though, the thing had shimmering leather seats the color of bourbon, and between them were cushioned armrests along with spaces for food, books, or cat bodies.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. And like a magic accordion, the car''s length folded out before our eyes, instantly tripling the carrying capacity. This limo could carry us all, and it could fit four or five emergency sheep in the trunk! Instead of that, though, my human friends immediately got to work opening the hatch and filling it with a combination of explosives and pool essentials. Chora and I both stood back, squinting. Soon, she raised her voice. "Um, I wouldn''t say swimsuits are a priority." "They''re not," Bayce admitted, tossing a flat beach ball inside, "but I didn''t have time to make enough Giga Fire spells to fill this." Chora blinked. I feared she might explode, but instead she turned halfway and shrugged. ¡°As long as you leave enough space for rations.¡± ¡°Rations?!¡± Heidschi threw in, ¡°Would you consider it if we called it ¡®lunch¡¯?¡± Bayce also had to be talked out of stuffing in lots of multicolored pool noodles, but it seemed clear to everyone that she was just joking. It must¡¯ve helped that we¡¯d had a spirit of camaraderie all day. Bayce and Chora had just shared a serious sparring match, after all¡ªmaybe that¡¯d burned off some frustration, somewhat literally. Soon everyone was done stuffing things in the trunk (and Bayce was done adding pool noodles to the Inventory within one of her bangles). I hopped up onto the open trunk¡¯s edge to see beach toys in the corner and three cinnamon-charcoal bundles taking up most of the room. Each was the size of a cooler. This really was a party. Reed was staying silent, the better to give the buggy a look-over, open and close the doors, make sure it would work alright. As she hopped into the front seat and revved it up experimentally, Bayce hammered a fist into her palm. ¡°We have yet to answer the most important question! What kinds of swimsuits do Taipha and Heidschi wear?!¡± ¡°Bayce?¡± Reed said over a popping motor. It sounded like a motherly warning. Heidschi looked bashful, and Chora just looked relieved Bayce hadn¡¯t aimed the question at her. And I was¡­honestly a little curious about fitting in at the beach. If everything worked out and we weren¡¯t vine-obliterated, this would be my first time having a ¡°day out¡± with people, and I didn¡¯t wanna look like the odd one out any more than I already did, y¡¯know? Even if my three core friends would accept me no matter what I wore¡ªor if I wore nothing at all¡ªI¡¯d begun to wonder about the wider world. Even if I didn¡¯t wanna go swimming, necessarily, I still wondered about beach fashion. And say what you will about Bayce¡¯s overly tall shoes, she did mostly have good taste in fashion. I shared my current swimsuit opinion: ¡°Meow.¡± This was overlooked, probably because of its utter dearth of information. I would¡¯ve broken out the spirit board and started spelling, but just when I thought Heidschi was too embarrassed to say anything, they murmured, ¡°Do you have anything¡­frilly?¡± Bayce responded by squatting by and sifting through a mess of clothing I hadn¡¯t even seen her take from the cabin and hurl into the dirt. That pile was as big as a washing machine! So many¡­ ¡°Hey! Whaddaya know. There¡¯s like five frilly things in here. And most look like they¡¯d fit you¡­ More skin or less?¡± Their voice quivered. ¡°More.¡± ¡°With a top?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Catch¡±¡ªand Bayce lobbed two skimpy fabric fragments at Heidschi. Adjusting their glasses, the shepherd looked them over. They still looked kind of shamefaced to be doing this in front of others, but Chora was stretching, I didn¡¯t care, and Reed was just too busy. Bayce, for her part, went back to the pile, looking between it and me with a pensive ¡°hmm.¡± I gave her free rein. ¡°GIVE ME SOMETHING COOL.¡± ¡°Too vague! There¡¯s so many styles to choose from, even just in this little pile. Half of it is ¡®cool¡¯ rather than ¡®cute,¡¯ and of that half, around half might fit you. And with half being warm colors and half being cool colors¡­¡± ¡°TOO CONFUSING! IM TUNING U OUT NOW¡± ¡°Okay, okay! Let¡¯s whittle down the options. So, um, you¡¯re a cat, and I assume you don¡¯t like getting wet. You may not wish to relive the trauma of diving in the depths like we did just a few short days ago.¡± ¡°Meow¡­¡± ¡°So¡­what about a diving suit? That¡¯d cover your legs and torso.¡± Okay, that sounded like a bridge too far. Was she not seeing my constantly exposed shoulder and thighs? Sure, immersing myself in water was still a little uncomfortable, but likewise, wearing clothes was still a little unnatural. Too much would feel constricting. Wait, was there even such a thing as a loose-fitting swimsuit? Seeing my hesitance, Bayce went for something different. Lo and behold, she pulled out¡­a swim-dress?! After I¡¯d studied it for a few seconds, the little dictionary in my head told me it was called a sarong. With two layers¡ªone a typical swimsuit, the other the dress¡ªit was maybe not exactly what I¡¯d been hoping for, but at least part of it was free-flowing. The colors of the ensemble were black and red, with the fierce scarlet fading like sunset down to the dusky hem. Bayce jiggled it. ¡°You like it?¡± she singsonged. I zipped into humanoid form, took the suit, and held it over myself. It looked like it just might fit! Then I took a few moments to feel and swat at the hem of the sarong. Slick swimsuit fabric was very intriguing, but it just couldn¡¯t beat swattable hanging drapes. ¡°I¡¯m, um¡­glad you¡¯re having fun with that,¡± Bayce said. (Uh, maybe that was more than a few moments.) ¡°Well, anyway,¡± she added, ¡°let¡¯s find out what Reed¡¯s wearing.¡± I think I would¡¯ve been intrigued by that question if I weren¡¯t also remembering something¡­something very big on my to-do list that had fallen so hard by the wayside it was practically in a gutter. I dropped the sarong and tapped Bayce on the shoulder. She turned. ¡°Wha?¡± Poof! A hairpin fell from a cloud of steam. It fell not-so-neatly onto Bayce¡¯s hair and was certainly not secure, but it¡¯d hit its target, and that was something to celebrate. Plus, the twinkling gold of the holly leaves¡­it really looked good with her cyan hair. I hoped she¡¯d keep it. Bayce¡¯s gaze lingered on mine. I didn¡¯t know how to react, much less what to say, and she didn¡¯t either. The moment made me¡­ Holy crap, I was blushing. For once, I knew I was blushing and I knew exactly why! Here I was with a pretty lovely person, a gaggle of other lovely people, and a heap of clothing I knew was considered embarrassing. I myself wasn¡¯t so much embarrassed as flustered and nervous. Holy crap, holy crap, I thought again. Did I do it wrong? What now?! I instinctively hid my blush¡­behind my spirit board, and spelled out, ¡°THIS IS JUST FOR THE DUNGEON!¡± Did I really need to justify the gift? Maybe not, but suddenly I was wondering how Chora felt, seeing this from afar. I mean, it¡¯d be unfair to give one friend a gift but not another. And her eyes had to be locked on the two of us. This was a big event! I looked over my shoulder. Chora and Heidschi had moved several paces away and were now stretching together. I looked even further. Only Reed¡¯s back was visible as she, no doubt, tested the pedals. Okay, never mind. No one else at all was looking, but the blush still hadn¡¯t died down. I kinda worried about that. Bayce reached over and gave me a surprisingly hard slap on the back. I jumped. ¡°Don¡¯t worry!¡± she said. ¡°If you can walk in on me touching myself without me dying, you needn¡¯t fear anything!¡± ¡°What?¡± Reed said from inside the car. ¡°What?¡± Chora said from several paces away. Bayce huffed. ¡°I should really stop saying stuff like that. My point is that embarrassment is natural! And it doesn¡¯t kill people. So get embarrassed more!¡± As I tried to puzzle out what she meant by all that, she took the pin in her hands, looked it over, then properly secured it and adjusted it. A hand mirror appearified in her hand. ¡°Wow!¡± she cooed. ¡°You buy this?¡± Er¡­no. I shook my head. ¡°You make it?¡± I shook my head. ¡°You found it¡­ Oh, wow, this must be like an antique¡­¡± With a sigh and a Morph back into cat form, I felt my flustration slip off like rolling mist. We¡¯d had enough fun for the moment, and now I felt ready to get into serious mode again. Before we chilled out in the water, we had to, you know, help people not get killed. Chora was right to be stretching overtime. Wind rustled the trees, like an omen. 132. Consider Yourself a Star Reed, Chora and I lay back on exercise mats, watching the stars above. It was still early evening, the air blue with only a hint of cool. The way I saw them both had changed so much. They weren¡¯t just confusingly dangerous yet alluring strangers¡ªnor were they here just to smile and cater to my needs. They were erratic, angry and insecure. They loved me, and I loved them deeply. Which made me wonder what was happening as summer changed to fall. The leaves rustled, a few of them edged with yellow. ¡­There wasn¡¯t too much else I could wonder about there. Not without actually bringing it up in conversation to learn more about the wider world of Vencia, and I didn¡¯t feel ready to do that. No more so than Reed felt ready to accuse herself of being ¡°too weak¡± again, or Chora felt ready to, well, declare herself unworthy of love again. Maybe we were all sensitive. So I lay back, in humanoid form, and listened as the people on either side of me talked about more comfortable subjects. Right now, that meant hearing them discuss whatever mystery novel Chora had read most recently. (Hey, I forgot she read those.) ¡°It turned out,¡± Chora said, ¡°that the murderer had used some extremely rare and exotic poison and placed it on the stem of the rose.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t seem fair,¡± Reed said. ¡°Murder¡¯s never fair.¡± ¡°No, I meant as a detective story. I mean¡­am I, the reader, supposed to have an encyclopedic knowledge of exotic poisons and their symptoms just to have a shot at figuring out who the culprit is?¡± ¡°¡­Hm. I never thought about it that way.¡± Chora scratched the back of her head. ¡°To be fair, they did introduce this poison seven-eights of the way through the novel. Well, more like nineteen-twentieths.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not fair at all.¡± Chora sighed and shifted. ¡°I gave up on outwitting these detectives long ago, Reed. It¡¯s how I stay sane.¡± Soon after she shifted, Reed shot upright. Chora stirred. ¡°Maow?!¡± I writhed. Soon I was looking at what she was looking at: a silvery-blue butterfly coming right for us, nearly sparkling in the early night. Reed was on her feet well before the rest of us. She reached behind her back, but when her hands came back, they weren¡¯t holding her sword. Those had to be Spells in her fists. ¡°You¡¯d better not land on this roof,¡± she cried. Chora put up her own fists. ¡°So that¡¯s her,¡± she said, squinting and wincing. Obediently, the butterfly hovered near, but not on top of, the roof¡¯s railing.
Tell them to relax. I don¡¯t shed glitch scales involuntarily
¡°I WILL NOT TELL THEM TO RELAX,¡± I spelled out. ¡°YOU STILL BEAT ME UP IN THIS HOUSE. NOT GOOD MEMORIES!¡±
Okay. Maybe that was excessive We¡¯ll fight outside next time and I¡¯ll make repairs This world¡¯s money is gold?
I violently rolled my eyes and entire forehead. ¡°ITS BASICALLY ALREADY REPAIRED.¡± And while I was curious about how much gold she might¡¯ve gotten from Quests (or a corpse¡¯s pockets), I wasn¡¯t about to admit that. Instead, I moved on. ¡°I WONT BE TOO MEAN, THOUGH. YOU DID A NICE THING. SCOUTING OUT A PLACE THAT WOULD BE HORRIBLY UNSAFE FOR ME. WHAT DID YOU FIND?¡± The butterfly, gently flapping her wings, told what seemed to be the truth.
First there¡¯s a big, steaming pit of constant aura the color of human blood. What starts as a slender tunnel expands more and more until it becomes an expanse as wide as the one that held the ruined castle, albeit with a bunch of rocky hills and ledges I also found several plague rats down there But if that were all, it wouldn¡¯t be all that dangerous We¡¯d all be wiping the whole dungeon out right now. No, that¡¯s only the preamble The aura from the pit was actually coming from myriad tiny holes, all smaller than my facehole And I am ninety-nine-percent sure that these holes lead to our destination
¡°IF RUST IS THE COLOR OF TIME MAGIC¡­¡± My hand lingered on the board. I trailed off, wondering exactly what this meant. I looked to Reed and Chora, who were, of course, both battle-ready and distressed by the silence. Or maybe that look on their faces was just boredom, frankly. Instead of summarizing what Logy had said just yet, I asked, ¡°DID YOU FIND A WAY DOWN LOWER?¡±Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
No. A way could be made from anywhere, though. Just break the stone I could try, but I¡¯d run the risk of fighting enemies so strong they¡¯d force me to lose Levels
¡°UM, WHAT ABOUT YOUR POWDER STUFF?¡±
Takes me and others anywhere I¡¯ve been before in this life. If I choose Has other applications, but those have a high chance of failure
Augh, I should¡¯ve been writing this down with the help of my patented hand-eye coordination cantrip. Instead, now I had to sort through the knowledge and put it into a digestible form for my human friends. At least something relieving came out of this. Specifically an enchanting smell of something like banana bread. Normally I didn¡¯t like fruit, but tonight¡­truly Bayce and Heidschi were up to something devious downstairs. I thanked Logy for her service, then asked Reed if I could invite her to ¡°THAT THING TOMORROW.¡± ¡°Wha? Um¡­¡± She looked troubled for a few seconds, and I totally understood. But I also figured I knew her thought process. It went something like this: Logy is dangerous, and nobody likes her¡­but she¡¯s also powerful, and could be helpful. Reed decided, ¡°Yes, but maybe not in the¡­you know. Technology might not play well with her, uh¡­¡± ¡°I GET IT,¡± I said, meaning ¡°I get that was a blatant lie.¡± ¡°LOGY, TOMORROW WERE ALL HEADED NORTHEAST IN THE WOOD TO FIGHT¡­STUFF. PROBABLY FLYTRAPS?¡± ¡°And whatever they constrict,¡± Reed noted. ¡°YEAH ITLL BE DEADLY AND SERIOUS! YOU SHOULD SEE AND MAYBE PITCH IN A LITTLE¡±
I would, except that still goes against my whole modus operandi
I blinked. ¡°OK THEN ILL JUST KILL TONS MORE FLYTRAPS THAN YOU, PROVING MY SUPERIORITY AS A RIVAL¡±
That would prove nothing. I¡¯ve killed more, explored more, endured more than you.
I highly doubted all of those statements! All the more reason for me to smirk, cross my arms, and then instantly un-cross my arms as I spelled, ¡°GOOD, SO IT SHOULDNT BE A PROBLEM FOR YOU TO BEAT ME THIS TIME EITHER¡±
You¡¯re smiling in a way you don¡¯t usually smile.
¡°YEAH ITS AN INVITATION¡±
¡­Okay, then. Well, it¡¯s completely ludicrous for you to think this one competition would make you better than me I¡¯ll see you tomorrow
She flew up and away, and I thought, with a grimace in my heart, that Sierra really had taught me well. I put the spirit board away and did something with no one-to-one equivalent for cats: I pumped my fists. ¡°Meow!¡± I said, meaning ¡°yay, yay, I got Logy to do more useful things for us!¡± Chora stared into the space where a butterfly had once been. ¡°I choose to believe that everything you two just said was good.¡± ¡°I¡¯m just hoping she didn¡¯t question our intelligence again,¡± Reed said with a faint smile. ¡°YES YOURE BOTH RIGHT! LETS GO EAT BREAD N THEN ILL SAY MORE¡± ¡°It¡¯s been a¡­surprisingly good day, hasn¡¯t it?¡± Chora said. ¡°THATS NEWS?¡± ¡°It is for me.¡± ¡°OH¡­OH YEAH. IM SORRY STILL¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s okay. At this point I¡¯m just glad we were both honest about what we were feeling.¡± I could accept that. We rolled up the exercise mats together, and I was amazed at how conventionally helpful I was being, what with my meaty human hands and all. My SP hadn¡¯t even run out yet! I mean, it was drastically low, but that was the price I paid for lying on my back with hands behind my head, rather than front paws somewhat awkwardly folded on my chest. Then, once it was solidly dark, we began heading inside toward that intriguing scent. First Chora went down the ladder, then Reed¡ªbut she stopped and looked at me. ¡°Heidschi sleeping in the den¡­are you alright with that?¡± Yeah! Duh! What a weird question, I thought, until I realized how little I¡¯d truly shared with her. ¡°I LIKE SLEEPING IN UR ROOM A LOT MORE,¡± I told Reed. ¡°THE PICTURE OF ME IN THE DEN IS AMAZING HILARIOUS AND FILLS ME WITH PRIDE ALL AT THE SAME TIME. BUT ITS NOTHING COMPARED TO JUST BEING WITH U¡± She simply stared for a moment. Taken aback. I actually laughed¡ªa giggling half-meow I hadn¡¯t known my vocal cords were capable of. ¡°IM SORRY I DONT TELL U THESE IMPORTANT THINGS¡± ¡°U-um, well, the most important thing, obviously, is straightening out everything about the threats to the Vencian Wood. And the being who kidnapped me. So it¡¯s beyond understandable that you wouldn¡¯t tell me¡±¡ªshe laughed, a dead giveaway for nerves¡ª¡°something as minor as how much you like sleeping in my¡ªin the foot of my¡ªat the foot of my bed.¡± My eyebrows twitched. ¡°ITS NOT MINOR!¡± Rrgh, I wished I could clasp her hands in mine as I said this next part, but until I had another cantrip, I couldn¡¯t multitask like that. Instead, I just said, ¡°UR THE GREATEST ND I LOVE U!¡± Reed laughed again. ¡°We¡¯re all here for you!¡± ¡°NO NO NO I SAID I LOVE U SPECIFICALLY! DONT ROPE IN EVERYONE ELSE!¡± Oops. That made her even more nervous. She was definitely blushing, and blushing hard. Her eyes made her look dazzled, but less like a fantasy princess and more like a deer in the headlights. ¡°OH NO CRAP SORRY! DONT BE NERVOUS!!!¡± Overcome with laughter, she reached up from the ladder and hugged me so hard I was yanked off my feet. ¡°Mreaow!¡± ¡°Sorry!¡± ¡°Maow!¡± I said¡ªdon¡¯t apologize! ¡°Fine, I¡¯m not sorry for this one!¡± She pulled me in further and squeezed so tight she groaned. I swung my arms around her shoulders and squeezed all I could. 133. Burnin Rubber Thick clouds of exhaust chugged from the car¡¯s engine. I expected the familiar stink of gasoline, but instead, the smoke was all charcoal, wood, and magic¡­which still stunk. A calico cat sat upright in the front passenger seat, which, ten seconds from now, wouldn¡¯t be such a great idea. For now, it was picturesque. I enjoyed the forest view through a scuffed, slightly foggy window. Then the view was lost¡ªsomething had been plopped on my head. ¡°Mrah!¡± I complained. But then I reached up with a paw and felt it, and¡­ ¡°Mrah?¡± I readjusted what turned out to be a leather cap, complete with aviator goggles. My ears twitched their way through two holes. Even if the cap was premade for some random mass-market doll, there was no chance Reed hadn¡¯t punched those holes through herself. And I knew the whole thing was Reed¡¯s¡ªshe was stifling a laugh now. I turned to face her just as she got both her hands back on the steering wheel and locked her eyes on the dashboard. Pfft. Yeah, pretend you didn¡¯t do that. Reed was on my left, Chora to my right. With only two rows, we had to maximize that space. Behind us were Heidschi and Bayce, the resident magi. Then we were rolling. Slowly at first, accelerating like a steam train. At the first big lurch, I gave up on cat form and Morphed¡ªmaking the fit snug but the sitting steady. The aviator cap stretched, and not uncomfortably. A seatbelt was buckled. Then our car turned on the mulch, heading northeast, and approached running speed, and passed it. We were more than rolling. Wind curved around the front window, snuck through the cracks, dove in from overtop, and whipped the dangling dangles of my aviator cap. Never had I ever had the pleasure of a car ride. Now I was intoxicated. Before, I¡¯d felt pity and a little superiority whenever I watched a pet carrier going in or out of a car, the withdrawn faces of the cats inside. I¡¯d inwardly laughed at the dogs hanging their desperate heads out of car windows. (Maybe they felt twice the thrill that they¡¯d get from ordinary running, but they also looked twice the foolish.) Now, though, I wished I¡¯d been in a pet carrier. Even sitting in the nucleus of a car and feeling the movement, like a boat on an earthen sea, was¡­an implacable good feeling. Both serenity and excitement. Or was that serenity just the fact that friends were with me? And the view was something else. It actually caused some cognitive disconnect to only be able to see the world through windows far from my face, yet still be moving. Heck, being moved at all was odd in what my brain told me should be a stationary room. The more I looked up, the more dizzying it became, and yet the more I wanted to go from the middle cushion to Chora''s spot so I could get an unadulterated view of the side. And maybe roll down the window so my tongue could hang out. But I had too much sophistication to do that, or to stomp all over Chora¡¯s legs just to crane my head in front of her chin! And I figured it was best just to stay calm and listen to the chatter going on in the car anyway. That would keep me from getting lulled to sleep. The sudden car-wide jerks when we rolled over boulders or thick roots would help too. Hold on, what was I doing? My job wasn''t to sit idle until a battle, or even really to brainstorm! It was... ...to keep my full attention on the outside world so I could explore the whole Vencian Wood! Oh yeah, and to keep tabs on Logy also. Her icon was in some random place I hadn¡¯t gone yet, and it definitely wasn¡¯t on the way. Where the heck was she? As usual, I didn¡¯t fancy her being with me in any group conversations, but I also didn¡¯t fancy her silently dropping out. Whatever, she¡¯d get there when she¡¯d get there. Much like us. Anyway, we¡¯d be entering new territory soon. Past the meadows, the world would start changing, and every bit of my senses absorbed would count, I hoped, towards my Quest. I tapped Chora¡¯s knee. She¡¯d been talking to the seats behind. ¡°Gold-alloy foci sound¡ªsorry, put a pin in that. Taipha wants to tell me something.¡± She turned my way, unfolding her piece of what we were calling ¡°spirit paper.¡± I pointed to letters on this great innovation. I¡¯d written them myself! ¡°CAN I SIT BY WINDOW? ITS OK IF NOT¡± ¡°Of course you can sit there. Even in this form, you wouldn¡¯t take up enough space to even begin bothering me.¡± True enough¡­ Compared to my nekomata form, Chora was shorter by a good thirty centimeters. It was a little off-putting, even now after spending an entire evening lying next to her this way. Still, I blinked at her. ¡°U RLY RLY SURE? I HAV A TAIL¡± Bayce called out, ¡°We have tape.¡± Uh¡­well, it turned out that there was more room on the sides of this jalopy than even in a high-end Earth car. (Change the shape of the cup holder and it could¡¯ve held a whole beer boot!) That suited me just fine. It was easy enough to smoosh my side against the secure door, crank the lever, and take that window down.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Ahh, the breeze against my skin¡­ *** Looking out a car window, hearing the stuttering sounds of conversation behind me, suddenly the world seemed endless¡ªnot because it was no longer small, but because we would roll across it forever. Rabbitfoot Plains whizzed by, and more and more my view filled with flowers, now blurs. The streaks of color¡ªbronze, purple, yellow¡ªglowed like haze, and the heady smell of nectar slapped us in the noses, setting off more than a few sneezes. As the car made a wide turn, I got a revolving view of a handful of sparrows bathing in a patch of dirt. We were noticed, and that was all. The creatures of the forest went about their day, and we about ours. I realized with a start that we were getting closer to the site of that tree with the fascinating winey fruit¡­but just as quickly, I de-hunched my shoulders. Of all the scents that drowned our nostrils, none were as potent as that one, as the scent, the odor that practically dripped with fuchsia. Then¡­ ¡°We should be close now,¡± Reed announced. She¡¯d said less than twenty-five words altogether since we pulled out. She said everything calmly, with discipline. This car was a dangerous vehicle even without coming close to the top speeds an Earth SUV is expected to hit. We were faster than a run, but that was it. It was startling for me to realize that even though this was fast, it was probably under fifty kilometers an hour. In fact, me sprinting would be at least as fast. But it¡¯d be way more sweaty, and therein lay the difference. Yet even at this speed, as the car and its sparking engine heaved us all over an unexpected stone, while turning a little too sharply, my chin nearly hit the windowsill. The world was getting bumpier. A little bit rockier and a little bit¡­sandier. Hmm. I wondered what sort of biome could possibly be causing this. A beach, perhaps? Well, to approach this more seriously, it seemed like a weird place for vines to exist, let alone go of their own viney free will. I was no biologist, and neither was my storehouse of human information, but shouldn¡¯t we have been raring to fight sentient beach grasses? Now and then, the jeep would come to an abrupt halt, its wheels simply spinning in the dust. Bayce and Heidschi would jimmy something in the back¡ªI guessed they were opening a hatch in the back seats that let them access the magical engine¡ªand that would get it moving. Then we would jerk onward for a few minutes until the next weird pitfall, all as the grass of the world trickled away. Of course, that slowed us down, and to attempt to avoid hitting more pitfalls while simultaneously worsening the problem, Reed decelerated. Soon we were barely going above running speed. All the while, our scenery was going through a second transition. Grass was patchy and the flowers nonexistent, btut the oversized dandelions were getting more frequent. Animals changed¡ªI caught sight of reptiles flickering into their burrows. The air changed too, tinged with a salty lake¡¯s breeze. We were close, but not there yet. ¡°I want to suggest getting out now,¡± Chora said, breaking a silence. ¡°We could move just as fast as the car is going now. Maybe faster. Plus, we might want to shift into observation mode, to spot enemies.¡± ¡°That''s not a bad idea,¡± Heidschi echoed. Bayce said, ¡°Well...we have more than enough fuel in the engine for a full drive. And the car gives us an extra layer of defense in case we do get attacked on the way.¡± ¡°Plus, we won¡¯t be exhausted,¡± Reed noted. I had an idea. Half of one. ¡°Meow,¡± I said, summoning attention. ¡°JUST LET ME OUT NEXT TO CAR.¡± Bayce clicked her tongue. ¡°You¡¯re not that heavy.¡± ¡°UGH NOT BC OF THAT. ITS EASIER TO HEAR FOES WITHOUT ENGINE RUMBLE AROUND ME. PLUS IM FAST¡± Reed glanced at me, biting her lip. ¡°¡­That makes some sense. You are the strongest one here.¡± I sure was, and I was ready to tear out my stultifying gold blade if that was what it¡¯d take to defend us all. I hopped over the windowsill, made a landing worth only a seven-point-seven out of then due to sandy soil, and got a little distance from the car. Then I was trotting alongside it, humbled by the vehicle in a whole different way¡ªfeeling about like I would next to a rhino in a marathon. Still, it was easy to keep up. Not only was I sprinting faster and faster with each level, I was also building up my endurance. Add to that how much more natural it is to walk on millions of tiny granules than to roll on them. ¡ªAh, a really obvious idea just came to me. Map, let me see underground!
Error: Request too broad. Information could overwhelm the user.
Um, okay. I¡¯m not ready to faint yet¡­ At least tell me what info you¡¯re withholding?
Soil composition, erosion, average particle size, prairie dog paths.
Map, just show me prairie dog paths.
Error: Request too broad.
Ugh. One more try¡­ Map, show me all the magical plants underneath this Map square?
Processing¡­
Oh, wow. The village of Outlast could¡¯ve used this information way earlier. There was an amorphous ¡°cloud¡± of magical plants in this area, one that brought o mind a foggy octopus. Bits of cloud were had spread around the northeast, but they were darkest and most concentrated in that farthest corner. Right now, for our troupe, this data wasn¡¯t useful so much as a confirmation that we should be headed the way we were already headed. But also, it was terrifying. It was suggesting that these vines were a network we¡¯d been moving across all along. While I wasn¡¯t seeing crisscrossing, spiderwebbing lines¡ªthe Map was too vague for that¡ªI suspected that was exactly what was hidden below our feet. That could truly ¡°overwhelm the user.¡± So if we drilled straight down, we¡¯d hit something. Kind of like what Logy was saying, except that was about time magic, not, uh¡­plant magic. And yet if we drilled down here and now, we clearly wouldn¡¯t be defeating the evil at its source. We¡¯d be hitting random vines. Our struggle would be far from over. And as long as we were already heading toward the source, we¡¯d better stay on track. 134. Sand Land I jogged alongside the bronze car, sandals and wheels chugging through scrubby grass and sand. Listening beyond the engines, twisting my ears and neck about, I hunted for red flags. So far, I¡¯d found none. Ahead, too far to see through the thickening clumps of dandelion trees, I did start to hear signs of a struggle. But at this distance, it was so unclear. It could be anything, from a wild predator and prey to feuding humans. Map, can you show me living things?
Living things which are being tracked with tracking markers can be shown. Otherwise, information must be generalized so as not to overwhelm the user.
Alright, generalize for me!
Processing¡­
¡­Wow. Clouds of life so dense they were black covered the Map square. Was this a literal practical joke? Ah well, it was worth a shot. I hadn¡¯t picked up anything useful, but for sure I was going to keep keeping an eye out. As I jogged, Bayce rolled down her window, leaned over the edge, and sighed at me. ¡°You look so sad jogging out here without us.¡± ¡°Meow,¡± I said, meaning I dunno, I guess I¡¯m pretty content, all things considered. ¡°Found nothing yet?¡± I shook my head. Chora stuck her head out the other side window and thumbs-upped me. ¡°You¡¯re doing good work.¡± ¡°Yeah, soldier!¡± Bayce cheered with a mock salute. ¡°Uh,¡± Reed said, her voice raised and soaring, ¡°Taipha, maybe get back in. There¡¯s a¡ª¡± The car and I lurched at the same time. Massive dandelions parted and the sun broke through, announcing that the beach was well and truly here. And I got immediate vertigo. The whole earth seemed to be sinking below me. This was the edge of an enormous sand whirlpool. That¡¯s what it looked like, how suddenly the surface curved, all sand in view seemingly plunging downward. Everything hoping that these hapless humans would go down just as quickly with it. Just about everyone yelped. I flung myself not into the car, but into the side of it, on accident. Clambering on, finding some sort of panicked grip, I ended up on the back, my feet on a thin and precarious ledge I hadn¡¯t even seen before. Luckily, there were handholds on the sides of the trunk. I clung there with eyes squeezed shut for a moment, swearing in my head that we were in freefall¡­but then I realized the lack of a strong breeze. We weren¡¯t falling, but we weren¡¯t not moving. We were balancing on the edge! I looked down with less fear than disbelief. The only way this car could be wobbling like that was if the middle of it was on the edge of the rim, meaning none of the wheels should be on the ground¡­and lo and behold, that was what had happened. It was no trick. It was no Spell. The engine coughed. It was still humming, but not powering us forward. With the hugest sinkhole of all time ahead, was that even a good idea? ¡°What if Taipha,¡± Heidschi said thoughtfully, ¡°moves to the front?¡± ¡°Maow!¡± I rejected that almost on instinct. ¡°Give me a moment¡­¡± Even through the exhaust, I could hear Reed take a deep breath in and out. ¡°Okay. Chora, can you give us a gentle blast of wind?¡± ¡°Taipha can do it better.¡± ¡°Oh, perfect!¡± That was my cue. Huh, I¡¯d never used Air Cutter as a nekomata, had I? It shouldn¡¯t be much different. And fortunately, I knew enough about the Skill to modulate it. Release an Air Cutter at full speed and it¡¯s a bullet¡ªdo it slowly and it rolls and peters out. When it came to using Skills, a hind foot was just as good as a front foot¡­so the same for human anatomy, right? I lifted an ankle and kicked with the tips of my toes.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
SP 82% (705/855)
An Air Cutter went soaring. Also, there went my sandal. A big lurch rattled us all as the car made that fateful dip. Still stable, thank goodness. The earth was arcing downward into a gargantuan bowl, and now I could see the panoramic expanse. Sand, circular trees, and speckled grass continued, but the land below was dominated by the awesome dandelions. They grew bigger and higher than on the plane, making a forest whose trees were so grand they¡¯d be competing with Earth¡¯s oldest redwoods. On the rim of the sand bowl were modest hills, but as we traveled deeper, we¡¯d be hitting entire dunes. How Reed expected to drive over those, I had no clue, and I was terrified to learn. Actually, this wasn¡¯t a complete, even bowl. The far edge was lower, and on that edge, I made out the twinkling of a salty lake. That searingly white edge¡ªthis whole entire sand valley¡ªwas so much larger than I had anticipated! Larger than imagination! This trip was turning out astounding. It was going to take us through turmoil and bloodshed and I wasn¡¯t even upset about that. If anything, a dramatic climax felt fitting for a vista like this. Were we even still in a ¡°forest¡± at this point? At the very least, this was multiple forests, a bog or two, and two to three separate mountain chains. Eh, there were still trees in all the biomes. And especially down there past all the hills and dunes. My Quest called it all the Vencian Wood, and if it said it was so, then it was so. The car hurtled onward! I laughed as the wind and gravity hit me, elated to be out here in this moment, delirious with wonder. But all good things come to an end, and soon I knew it was time to work. Once we crested that edge, new sounds started to hit me loud and clear. My laughter was cut short. Sounds of a magic struggle, not an ordinary wildlife battle but a band of professionals in the fray¡ªfrom over there, about midway between us and the lake. In other words, in the exact center, in the nexus of dandelion forest. That lined up with what my Map was telling me about this square. It was where the most vines were. This had to be the creature we¡¯d been searching for, the boss of the vines, in full bloom and full attack mode. I inched over to one side and tapped Bayce on the shoulder. She was almost too busy clutching and fiddling with her seatbelt to notice¡ªbut I didn¡¯t blame her, because at this steep angle, a malfunction could send us all through the windshield. Well, not me. I¡¯d skip that step and impale myself on rocks. Point being, though, that I switched from tapping to squeezing. ¡°Huh?¡± she said with a jolt. ¡°Y-you detected something?¡± She unfolded and held out a piece of spirit paper. Another key innovation, one that was coming into play now for the first time, was the fact that the paper was double-sided! I could poke an A on one side and she¡¯d know exactly what I was doing. I passed along a message and made it quick. ¡°MAGIC FIGHT¡± ¡°There¡¯s a magic fight!¡± Bayce barked, and I kept going with more specifics. ¡°AHEAD. VINES. FLAMES. SHOUTS. HUGE¡± I backed away and gave my straining, stretching legs a break. Bayce untwisted frontways, gulped in a huge breath, and shouted, ¡°Huge viney magical battle up ahead. But it¡¯s probably the big one, so we don¡¯t wanna avoid it!¡± Right afterward, Reed cried, ¡°Got it! Buffs!¡± And Bayce and Heidschi, untying bundles and opening wooden boxes, revealed a multitude of tiny Spells, ready to cast once we got within range to provide us with the longest possible uptime. All while the car chugged down the slope, Reed accelerating and the exhaust blowing through my hair, smelling more like melted, overclocked steel. Our car was finally going at car speed. And we finally started feeling ready for battle. Sensing a bad premonition, I added a Guard to the buffs about to hit me. Magic enhancement seemed to enter my blood. Fortify my cells. The soul may have been the conduit of all Skills, but the effect, as always, was very physical. As I breathed in deeply and focused on Guard¡¯s effect like never before, I knew: it entered my every living cell.
DEF 172 (+50%)
Oh, and we all had our individual Spells on us too. I had a couple of each of Bayce¡¯s wacky ones: Attract, Low-Gravity, and High-Gravity. And while Bayce and Heidschi were holding some of the Stat buffs, intending to stay back and fire them at us from afar (they claimed to have excellent aim), each of us also had our own. Chora, Reed and I split the Attack Ups, and everyone but me split Defense Ups and Minor Heals. Those were in dramatically short supply¡ªapparently Bayce hadn¡¯t had the time or resources to make many in time. Sadly, we still didn¡¯t have the big rarities: Intelligence Ups or Wisdom Ups (¡­or Speed Ups, for that matter). But that was okay. In a pinch, I could now use the Debug Blade well enough. I mean, I had passable sword-smarts and average human dexterity! A test run this morning had proven as much. Beyond the Blade, my combat style was Attack-heavy anyway. Yes, I had legs of lightning, but that lightning was carrying a big old rock. A rock with pointy sticks attacked, sure, but essentially a rock. And on that note, the Spells I was carrying, aside from the prerequisite Fire Spells, were Earth and Lightning. While I was always jazzed to try out Spellcraft and the combination of these thrilled me for some unknown reason, I also felt that on my build, they were more like nice accessories. I was not a gun, but a clod. Now our car was definitely in the bowl. The terrain wasn¡¯t necessarily more forgiving, but at least the looser sand of the dunes flies under wheels more easily than mixed sand, dirt, and boulders¡ªsplashes a lot more spectacularly, too. Plus, now we were at a sub-ninety-degree angle and no longer on the verge of throwing up. All while I felt Reed nudging our speed up, fighting to reach the battle before it got grim. Before time ran out. A whoop rose up from the car. Bayce¡¯s voice, followed by Heidschi¡¯s. I thought I saw a wand and a baton raised in the air, raising spirits. Though I kept myself anchored to my handholds, I started to raise my voice and join in. And then the whole front half of the cat fell through the earth with a crunch, out of sight. 135. Stone-Age Cars Were Powered This Way The front of the car wasn¡¯t suddenly deep in dune sand because we¡¯d plunged into a hole, or into quicksand. It turned out the tendrils of grass still scattered in the sands were working in concert with the vines. All of them had a life of their own. I hadn¡¯t been paying enough attention. Only when a cloud of sand burst apart in front of us and sent the whole car rocking did I realize that we weren¡¯t just driving on ordinary terrain¡­that the layers of dead dirt separating us from live plants were far thinner than expected. Masses of combined tall grass and thorny vines wrapped around the hood. It was hard for me to see from the back, but I heard a crunch of glass¡ªjust one. They had cracked the windshield, but no other windows. And no bodies, yet. The whole party burst into action. Two Ice Spells blasted from the back row. Only one of them raced ahead. The other erupted underneath the car, turning the sand into crystal with a freezing current that spread mesmerizingly fast. As I glanced down to watch, I gasped. There, just below me, were tendrils like green worms just about to reach up and snare me¡­frozen just in time. The front of the car jolted with a blast of wind that sent frozen plants flying and attempted to steady the car again in a single burst. It also made me nauseous. I was flinging my head around, trying to observe all I could, just wondering how I could possibly help¡ªbut, well, to my amazed pleasure, it looked like my friends pretty much had it covered. We were back on the road, still speeding ahead, just with Bayce and Heidschi sticking their heads and arms out either back-row window, prepared to launch more strikes. There had to be a better vantage point for me than this. On the back of the truck, I felt like dead weight. But was running beside the car really the best option? If only we had a roof. Then I could try standing up there and get a three-sixty view of things. Heck, if only I had a Logy! Then I could just grab onto her and dangle. But I could always stand higher up on the back of the car¡­ It¡¯d be pretty precarious, to say the least. I gritted my teeth, slammed my shoe and shoeless foot onto the tops of the handholds, and slapped my hands on the top of the trunk. My claws could give me a better grip if I needed it, but that would dent Reed¡¯s car, and I did not want Them to make me dent Reed¡¯s car. Then I pushed my shoulders up, leaned out, looked out. This was better. But once I took a breath and used a Meditate, what I saw from that vantage point was a dire warning. I wasn¡¯t the wisest person, but I¡¯d plunged in and out of meditative, analytic states, and I was even learning to speed up the process. Plus, I knew the forest better than anybody, even the magenta-haired girl who¡¯d lived here for years. Most people looking for signs of fresh attacks might search for the same thing I¡¯d just seen: more green worms, big or small. But that is thinking too small and too typically human. If you want to sense difference from a distance, you really need to think bigger and with all of your senses. You need to notice everything that¡¯s different. And then you need to combine it with a sprinkle of logic¡­ To lay out the facts: we were hurtling downward, through dunes and ridges, at roughly a thirty-degree angle. Around us remained a massive expanse of sand and, ahead of us, a heavy concentration of dandelion trees. My Map showed aggressive magic plants all around us¡ªor below us¡ªor both. One would think that a patch of sand with living, active things below it wouldn¡¯t look or sound any different from one without them. Lizards hide in sand all the time, and everything stays completely still. And yet¡­
SP 71% (603/855)
WIS 164 (+50%)
There were several spots, around us and up ahead, that just looked different. It wasn¡¯t color. It could be aura. The patches just looked flatter, almost a little too still. Maybe they weren¡¯t moving the right way in the wind. Maybe magic simply existing around them changed them in some unknowable way.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. I could see exactly which spots up ahead should be avoided. I feared that our limited Spells wouldn¡¯t be enough. But also, I couldn¡¯t speak, I couldn¡¯t drive, and this was time-sensitive. Mercifully, I had a little library of ¡°meow¡± variations based on Reed¡¯s set of signals, and I could holler over the engine and the sand blowing over my face. Unmercifully, these weren¡¯t more specific than ¡°left¡± and ¡°right.¡± There was no ¡°left one meter, now go right half a meter, no that¡¯s too far, never mind keep going right.¡± If I straight-up spiderwalked over the car to sit by Reed, then either grabbed the controls and prayed or gave her impromptu gesture-directions, I could do more harm than good. (A careening car out of control could technically be faster and more effective than this one, though.) Wait. This was thinking too small again. I needed to think outside the box. What did I literally have to do? Keep my friends safe. The easiest way was to avoid the stuff up ahead. We didn¡¯t have to drive out of its path, though¡­ I tapped Bayce on the shoulder again. She was a little startled by the new angle, but keen to listen. Then I spelled with one hand. ¡°DONT PANIC BUT IM MOVING THE CAR¡± ¡°Wait, what?¡± But there was no time to lose. The first off-putting spot was coming up, and I ducked out of Bayce¡¯s view. Clambering over the sides of the car made everything just a bit more treacherous. I was officially fighting my gag reflex tooth and nail as I juddered along the lumpy dunes, but more than that, I was fighting with the wood-and-metal surface of the jeep. Especially my feet¡ªthough kicking off my other sandal made that easier. There¡¯s only so many handholds on a car, even on one you¡¯d think would be postapocalyptic-wasteland-ready! I gave up, apologized under my breath, and started stabbing my way over to the side of the car with Heidschi and Reed. Soon I was crouching on the car¡¯s edge, by those doors. I inched my way along. Sweat trickling sideways like rain would on the windows, sand glittering into my eyes, I focused not on my blinking sight, not on my ears, but on a timer in my head. I had an idea of when we would come up on that first patch of stillness. This was the easy part, right? I had a good internal clock¡­didn¡¯t I? Well, a bit too early was fine¡ªanything as long as it wasn¡¯t horribly late. Soon I ended up on Reed¡¯s door. My aviator cap seemed to be keeping my hair from fluttering too high up and spooking the driver. Phew. My hind legs retracted their claw-nails, then pushed against the sand with all I had. I didn¡¯t even Leap. I just pushed like I was Hercules. We were not squandering all our Ice Spells on some bits of crunchy grass! The jeep rocked out of the way¡ª Only about twenty centimeters. ¡°Agh!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t panic, Reed, she¡¯s moving the car!¡± Undeterred, I kicked again right away. I was determined not to Leap if I could help it, because SP could also be squandered. This time, the car swerved a little more, maybe thirty centimeters in all. A push at the front, of course, means a turn for the entire vehicle. Just a few more seconds on the same trail, and the whole thing¡¯d move a lot farther than a few piddly centimeters. Both pushes had taken a lot out of me, and all my muscles felt stings of fatigue¡ªactually, my fingers felt it worse than anything else¡ªbut inwardly, I felt so relieved. And I knew my muscles were recovering by the minute. Reed hollered to Bayce, ¡°So I keep driving this way?¡± ¡°Keep driving this way!¡± ¡°Meow!¡± I affirmed. And as vines erupted just beside us, then behind us, I could only sag my shoulders in a moment of relief. Okay, we had more time before the next patch, so I wouldn¡¯t have to do all that. I gave a meow of warning to everyone before clambering up, crawling over the partition between the front seats and the back seats, and plunking myself beside Chora again. Then I took her spirit paper and wildly pointed. ¡°Reed!¡± Chora cried. ¡°See that place up ahead, there to there?¡± She let me gesture to the strange patch. ¡°Steer clear.¡± ¡°Got it.¡± With a stiff nod and a hearty thank-you, Reed swerved the car away, and Chora gave me the slightest bow. We were back on track. More patches were popping up before my eyes¡ªwell, technically, lying down. They were a little more obvious now, so much that Chora could see the closest ones. She told me they looked ¡°kind of flat.¡± I knew they weren¡¯t flat, they were just incorrect. Curling the wrong way, countering the breeze instead of flowing with it. With Chora and I working together to point them out, and Reed laser-focused on the drive, our trip was a lot simpler now. What grasses and vines screeched up behind us raced to grab us, but only for fleeting moments. Soon they lost interest¡ªor maybe life¡ªand crumpled to the ground. But with this many pockets of magical plants, we couldn¡¯t avoid everything. The big ones, yes, but the smaller splotches, no. Compound that with how Reed couldn¡¯t exactly maneuver with ease on this rough terrain. Tires can¡¯t help but hit a few snags in the best of times. So we had seconds before we crossed into a veritable minefield. I watched, my gut sinking, as several masses of vines reared up ahead. They were coming out of hiding earlier than I¡¯d expected. They knew their minefield had us surrounded, and now they were clumping together into a curved wall. They were strong, but we were smarter and craftier. Bayce raised her wand and Heidschi raised a fist, both about to launch Fire Spells. This was good, but I doubted it was enough. They¡¯d need some protection as the fire spread through all those vines, because a few little sparks of flame, no matter how powerful, don¡¯t eat an entire plant wall that fast. It was time for me to stand up on the car seat and pull out my secret weapon¡­of sorts. Not the Debug Blade. I had no interest in equipping and unequipping and dropping my sword irrevocably into the deadly dunes. No, this was an experimental weapon¡­and kind of a cheap one. It was the Pyrite Machete. Reed had literally made it last night. By ¡°made,¡± I mean she dug it out of her closet before bed thinking it was a golden machete, then realized it was actually a crinkly slab of pyrite molded into a bladelike shape. Why did it exist? She said it was from a school play, and purely decorative. With a little sharpening and burnishing, though, it looked¡­ Almost passable. I seemed to be holding a yellow slab of aluminum. But besides Reed¡¯s big broadsword, it was the only other blade in the house! It¡¯d have to do. It would do! Fires were thrown, and I thought, Engarde. 136. Dandy Gauntlet Within mere seconds, the wall of grass and vines mere meters away from my mere friends¡¯ mere car had risen to five times my height. Like a tidal wave of dark, shadowed green, they looked ready to collapse upon us, swallow us whole. Reed wasn¡¯t stopping the car for anything, though¡ªwe had to get to the villagers, whose cries I could hear faintly through the din of this whole high-speed chase. With a sucking whoosh, the vines caught fire. They were hit by one regular-sized Fire Spell and several tiny ones¡ªthe former from Heidschi, the latter from Bayce and her magic-diluting wand. Immediately the flames ate holes straight ahead of us. Vine-tentacles jolted apart, breaking the wall. But they didn¡¯t fall completely. They were still on the attack. And with our car hurtling forward, they were practically on top of us! Which was where I came in. Standing on top of the front passenger¡¯s seat, I took my Pyrite Machete firmly in hand and remembered what had happened last night¡­ Just before bed, Reed had taken out a spare chunk of wood. It hadn¡¯t yet been carved into an animal shape. Perhaps it never would be. It perished for a good cause, chopped in half by a swipe of my machete. So chopping a wood block was effortless. Chopping a single one of these vines apart should be, what, ten times as hard? What¡¯s ten times effortless? Half an effort? It was so hard to calculate. Each ¡°vine¡± was actually a tangle, an amalgamation of like a thousand overgrown blades of grass and thorny flytrap tendrils. In fact, now that I was this close up, I could see just a fraction of those layers, all criss-crossing, hugging themselves close. Far harder than a petrified tree. But this vine up ahead was injured¡ªfire magic had bitten through its outer layers before burning out. Turning my blade, I swung where the wound was. It chopped the thing in half. I groaned with effort. The top went flying, and I felt like a baseball player. Instead of relaxing, I spun on my heel and sliced just half a meter above Reed¡¯s head. Another vine was on the attack, and this one was the cleverest yet. How¡¯d it know to attack the driver? I heard sounds of struggle behind me, too¡ªBayce and Heidschi were no doubt fighting others off. Good. That let me focus on mine. All this happened within milliseconds. A lot can change in a flash. I cleaved this second vine about the way I had the first, but my machete didn¡¯t go straight through. I pulled it out, stabbed instead. Horrible idea! It jammed inside. Shocked, my mind flew to the next battle idea and I let go¡ªonly to remember that I was, after all, in a moving car. That vine was disappearing into the distance, already several meters behind me. Oh. Thanks, Reed! ¡°Meow!¡± I cheered. ¡°Meow,¡± Heidschi said, sounding a bit wilted. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t waste Spells or javelins on this,¡± Chora told the back row. I turned to watch, wobbling on the seat constantly. ¡°Heidschi, you come up front and start buffing. Let me use wind techniques from you and Reed¡¯s side¡ªthen we¡¯ll be conserving more and we¡¯ll have our angles covered.¡± ¡°Not a bad idea,¡± Bayce added. ¡°I¡¯ve got Fire covered, my wand¡¯s active.¡± Heidschi was climbing over the headrests already. ¡°Okay,¡± they said. ¡°I¡¯ll enhance physical and magical power. If you need a different kind of boost, just say the word.¡±If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. To give them space to switch seats, I Morphed back to cat form for just a second. After that, I squeezed my fists a couple times¡­missing that darn pyrite throwaway sword. It was nice while it lasted. Maybe raw claws and the odd Air Cutter could do just as well? I gasped as another vine rushed into view. Ugh! My concentration, I lost it back there! Gritting my teeth, I hoped that sheer force could knock this one aside. A drumbeat began in the middle seat beside me. It was making me stronger, pumping my blood, but it¡¯d only just started. This first attack would be all me¡­sadly. But I tried anyway, summoning all my cliches about super-strong martial artists. A knuckle bashed into the vine, splitting surface layers of plant fibers, scattering a tinge of purple aura. Buying us time. The vine recoiled, then sped by, becoming just another part of the background. We were going ever deeper into the bowl, and our weird angle was un-weirdening more and more. Still, the minefield of vines was relentless. Chora flung bursts of wind both to help the car dodge (when this was even possible) and to punt vines aside. I swatted, scratched, punched, and, when it seemed unavoidable, cast an Air Cutter to send pieces of vine flying. And like stars, Fire Spells scattered themselves across enemies, softening them up before I got them. How Reed could concentrate with so much going on was beyond me. Then again, when you fight or drive in a rhythm long enough, with a team behind you, you do get tunnel vision. You don¡¯t realize there¡¯s anything before you but the goal. Which was why my heart spiraled out of my chest when our jeep rocketed into deep forest. A deep forest I¡¯d absolutely seen coming, and yet hadn¡¯t seen-seen coming. Leaves shuddered against the cracked windshield, entered my hair, smacked me in the face. This was the forest, but not as I knew it. Here the only trees had massive stems instead of bark, and huge billowing spherical masses of leaves. The mottled shade they left on the ground was eerie¡ªor maybe that feeling was just my premonition of the eerie things to come. Harsh but intermittent shadows, plus a radiant sun, meant that rolling through these sandy woods had a kind of strobe effect on the poor eyes of these friendly humans. Not mine, though! If only I could drive. Ah, at least Reed had strapped on her own aviator goggles at some point within the past five minutes. Those might absorb some sun. What we couldn¡¯t block out were the sounds of melee. But as awful and explosive as they were, reaching them was our goal. We wouldn¡¯t want to. I was sure that at this point, everyone could hear the fighting. It was in these woods, unmistakably, and I knew now that earlier, the dandelion trees had contained and dampened the sound. Whatever that battle was, it involved magic attacks of astounding size and caliber, and I prayed that we weren¡¯t pulling up on the tail-end of a loss for Outlast. Right now, however, we were still minutes away from a cool or tragic magic battle¡ªand I was screaming as the ¡°puff¡± of a dandelion tree collapsed upon us. No, it wasn¡¯t a collapse. This redwood-sized dandelion was bending at unimaginable speed, like a flail. The skull-crushing version of what those fairies I¡¯d encountered at Cornutopia carried around. The car crashed with a loud metal haaank, a final cough of the engine, and a dull thump in the sand. My heart sank. ¡­Wait, why wasn¡¯t I bleeding everywhere? Oh, okay, Reed just stopped the car. Suddenly everything and everyone seemed frozen. Except the battle ahead. Beside and below me, Reed was panting. Her hands slipped from the wheel to her chest. All our hearts had to be racing¡ªwatching her made me think of mine, and I deepened my breath, feeling cautious. The dandelion had made landfall just ahead of us. Reed whispered the first-ever curse I¡¯d heard out of her mouth. ¡°We could¡¯ve died.¡± ¡°We would not have died,¡± Chora said, laying a hand on her back. Reed didn¡¯t respond to that. ¡°Out of fuel,¡± she said. Turning, I saw Bayce and Chora digging in that back seat hatch, fidgeting with the Spells in the trunk. Those Giga Fires, the clusters of magic as big as coolers, were what kept our car rolling. They continued to fidget. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Talk to me!¡± Reed said. ¡°I¡¯ll have to be our makeshift engine,¡± Chora said. Heidschi cried, ¡°We can run!¡± ¡°We¡¯re too fragile!¡± But our fragility wasn¡¯t the problem. As they struggled to settle on our next move, I was our lookout. The dandelion tree ahead of us, the one that¡¯d almost bashed the hood of our car apart, was moving, a colossus slowly rising to its feet. But that wasn¡¯t the problem either! The whole forest was beginning to move. I should¡¯ve expected nothing less. When we got moving again, we¡¯d be running a gauntlet. Every single tree in our path would come falling like a hammer, and where one failed, another would pick up the slack. It was impossible! At best, it¡¯d sap all our strength. We didn¡¯t have forever to recover. Scratch that¡ªrecovery was not even an option. We just needed to circumvent this obstacle. and it was gonna take some pretty wacky thinking to do that. I bent down and tapped Bayce on the shoulder. She turned. ¡°DONT PANIC. GRAB EVERYONE. TIGHT¡± ¡°What, what the¡­oh.¡± Bayce gave me a wink, then whispered, ¡°I trust you.¡± I dashed out of the car, switching to cat form¡ªfeeling speedier. The dandelion rose for a giant swing. Exactly what I was counting on. 137. Fracas As the skyscraper dandelion began to rise, I sprinted. Not toward the battle, but toward the big mace-head ball at the top of that tree. Just as it rose from the ground, I jumped, plunging through its cloud of leaves, hoping to clamp on to its center. It turned out there really was a circular node right in the middle of those leaves, with even branches in all directions. It was dazzling to behold¡ªor would¡¯ve if I had time to waste beholding. The tree whizzed up into the air, shedding leaves that rained and poked across my back. I stifled a scream. This was no time to cry out! My job, as before, was to keep my senses alert. Not marvel about what terrifying number of meters above the ground I was about to be. I felt the brief pause and slight wobble as the tree hit the apex of its rise. It was time. Thanks to my Map and the heat of the sun, I¡¯d pointed myself in the right direction just a second ago. Now there was nothing left but to fly. So I lightened myself with a Low Gravity, channeled power into my legs, and took a Leap. I arced slightly upward, through the trees. It¡¯d give me less distance, but I hoped that was fine. I still had a decent chance of reaching the battle. It was important that I not thrust myself through endless scenery-obscuring dandelion puffs. And I was rewarded with a heartstopping view. Leaves passed below like an ocean¡¯s surface, even sparkling like sun would off water. The spheres of leaves didn¡¯t billow like wind, though. They rustled and bobbed like individuals, like they were plotting. Up ahead, in the place I was speeding towards, was an empty spot in the canopy. Perfect! Augh, I overshot it! Lowering my gravity¡ªwhich, need I remind you, was really lowering my weight, word choice be darned¡ªhad actually made me fly too far. This trajectory was taking me over the fight and possibly over the whole entire patch of wood. Well, too much was better than too little? I used a High Gravity. With very little time to suss out the scene, I plummeted down into it. A familiar caw whizzed into my ears¡ªMurder the condor?¡ªand faded just as fast. The warfare changed from ominous distant crashes and booms to massive, immediate danger. Smoke filled my nostrils, along with the purple steam of aura and the telltale note of blood. I rolled in midair to land on my feet, then discovered why I wouldn¡¯t want to do that. Below me, sand had been blasted away, replaced by oh so many thorns. Um, does killing vines give me any EXP? If so, I might Level Up soon, so it might be smartest to spam Guard instead of¡ªoh gosh, it¡¯s about to poke my eyes¡ª Earth! I cast a rock to break my fall, which was better than falling on a bed of needles. Landing on it like a surfboard, I braced myself for the inevitable shatter. A meaty vine swiped for me, missed. My surfboard cracked across the ground, shattered, and sent me flying. Onto sand. Much better, honestly. Then I tossed myself upright and looked around. There wasn¡¯t much to see, on account of all the smoke, purplish steam, and flames¡­and an odd brownish hue, like the brown I saw before a particularly heavy Vencian storm. But there were no clouds today, and the smoke smelled normal¡­ Through all the mess, I saw limbs both plant and animal. Flashes of blades glinting gray, bronze, and more unusual hues: deep blue, scarlet, meadow green. I saw the snarling jaws of what had to be the flytraps¡¯ final forms, dripping saliva and all.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. I thought I saw a pair of legs starting and stopping, as if I were seeing them frame by frame, or in a rave. It was so bizarre that I had to stop and wipe my¡­ There¡¯s no stopping here. For a moment I contemplated getting somewhere safe, but that was a laugh. The very direction I tried to dart in was rocked by a white explosion of what sounded like sizzling electricity, which seared so hot in the air afterward that it must¡¯ve turned the sand below to glass. So I just hunkered down and finished my job. I prepared to use an Attract Spell, and to pull it off, I envisioned Reed. Picking her was a no-brainer. Watching her in our nights together¡­sitting with her under the clouds of the Kaugs¡­heck, even today, when I sat next to her during the drive and found my gaze drifting her way¡ªI thought it all gave me a decent idea of what Reed looked like. Now I had to trust that my knowledge was sufficiently complete, and that all my friends really were holding each other tight. I cinched my eyes shut. Attract! The effect was instant. Through the warzone soared a bundle of humans the moment I looked up. Too bad Guard had worn off recently (and uselessly), or else I might¡¯ve taken the impact with confidence. Instead they barreled into me and I squawked. GOOD THING THEY DIDN¡¯T BRING THE CAR. Well¡­also sad thing they didn¡¯t bring the car. My strategy here might¡¯ve caused it to get left in the dust, and crushed by weird plants. I could only hope they¡¯d done something clever to keep it safe. Right this moment, though, I was struggling just to orient myself. In the middle of so many explosions and smoke, four familiar humans seemed to materialize, then roll into life. ¡°Sorry!¡± a Reedlike voice screamed. Of course she would be. No! I thought. This was on me! Then I saw Bayce with an enormous hunk of charcoal in one hand and her wand in the other. In one brisk movement, she seemed to shove the charcoal into the wand like powder up some kind of musket. Instead of shrinking and shooting inside, the hunk disappeared in a puff of¡ªof nothing, it seemed, because everything was smoke¡ªand then a new sound raged. FWOOOOOSH. A geyser of fire streamed up from the wand, just in time to spray in the face of a tyrannosaurus-sized flytrap above Bayce¡¯s head. Instantly the flytraps that¡¯d begun to crowd around us froze, mouths agape. Bayce slowly wheeled herself around, spraying their faces with a fire far stronger than I¡¯d thought that wand was capable of. But of course, she hadn¡¯t used a regular Spell this time. It had to be the cooler-sized version she¡¯d pulled from the trunk. The proverbial big dog. At least something in that car didn¡¯t go to waste. Bayce¡¯s flamethrowing gave the rest of us a chance to get our bearings. As Chora disappeared into the clouds like a ghost and Heidschi inched backward with the frightening Sheep Ball hoisted high, I found myself next to Reed. I didn¡¯t meow, and she didn¡¯t speak. Sometimes things were quiet enough that I could make out a voice distinctly, sometimes they were too muddled. Even a whistle might get lost here. So she just drew her blade, and with an effort of will that was palpable, she summoned an energy that ran through like blood in the body and echoed out in reddish-pink waves. Her aura was a pulse, one that stayed close to its blade but exuded a heat I could feel even from a short distance. When a whipping vine closed in, glowing through the smoke with an aura of purple, I braced for the worst. If I had trouble slicing them, imagine what¡¯d happen to Level-less, unconfident Reed. She didn¡¯t guard. She swung fearlessly, her sword chopping into the vine. It almost cleaved clean through. Above where she¡¯d cut were a good six meters of the vine¡ªnot quite dead, but dangling, hurt severely. The dripping wound was one of the oddest things I¡¯d seen. It leaked the same aura that streamed from the whole vine, only condensed into goo that looked radioactive. Needless to say, the less time we spent with that stuff, the better. I had a second to look around, observe things. To my surprise, I could smell several specific things, even if they were all chaotic and diluted. I inhaled deeply, and the mixture stung my throat. All the smoke here came from different sources. My nose picked up lightning magic, the peculiar coal tinge of magic fire, something toxic, and an ozone smell that brought to mind astral Spells¡ªmore from instinct than prior knowledge. Many humans were around. Somewhere between¡­fifty and a hundred? Moving and fighting. More than I¡¯d seen to date on Vencia. If I focused, I could see their dim shapes through the brownish-purplish grayness. Scuffed, wounded, casting, parrying. The vines and their occasional flytrap heads didn¡¯t glow as brightly as the Spells or the aura-charged weapons, but they were much wider, and covered in that purple miasma. In the eyes of one human I saw meters off, I thought I saw specks of purple, dim headlights, beaming from their face. If their body was wrapped in smaller vines, I didn¡¯t see it. There was no time before another tentacle crashed down. 138. Jaws A vine slapped down with a whump in the sand I¡¯d just been standing on. They all had their own variations¡ªflytrap-headed vines, ivy-wrapped vines, squiggly wiggly vines that were thin but wickedly fast¡­ This one was coated in thorns far tougher and longer than the ones I was used to. Luckily, I was fast enough to roll out of the way. Then I got to my feet and bolted on sheer instinct, darting toward¡­aw, I couldn¡¯t see Reed anymore! In fact, I couldn¡¯t see anyone. I thought I heard a bleat from one of Heidschi¡¯s sheep, but that was it¡­ Besides random humans. The closest were a couple of spellcasters, two people in rugged, hikers¡¯ clothes with glowing palms. The man shot pellets of fire¡ªnice choice, nice choice¡ªwhile the woman shot slender bolts of an odd, nauseous green. Even from a distance, I could smell them. So that was the toxic smell. They did their best to fend off three looming vines, backing up but chipping away. A dandelion tree, smoldering but intact, was behind them¡ªsoon they would quite literally have their backs against the wall. A wall that might also be alive. Good thing another human was running in with a dagger in either hand. Instead of going after the big ones, though, the third human ducked near their feet and sliced at foes I hadn¡¯t even noticed¡­no, foes I forgot to notice! Ugh! Ugh ugh ugh! Yet again, there was so much flying around here that I could hardly concentrate on any of it! On the ground, threaded beneath the sand, were patches of much thinner vines. But these were the real powerhouses. I remembered them well from my tag-team battle with Heidschi and their sheep. Those were the vines that could take people over. Mind controllers. Parties like the one in front of me knew them all too well. One guy slashed through those mini-tentacles while the others fought the larger threats. But past them, deeper in smoke, I sensed there was something more ominous. Specifically, I smelled more blood. I smelled wounded. So as a flytrap-headed vine gave a cry as the toxic skewers no doubt hit something vital, I slipped away and ran onward. It was just as I thought. A heavily injured team was struggling to get away from the battle. Which was basically impossible. Even if they escaped the main fighting, where would they take cover? They¡¯d have to speed away. That kind of magic had to be rare, because I didn¡¯t see anyone teleporting. Five people carried four others. They were all equally wounded, but the ones staying upright were glowing with a red energy I assumed was buffing their strength. I quickly glanced behind me, smelled that stinging air. Where had my teammates gone? If only Chora were here with her wind powers to push these people away or something¡­ I considered taking out the crystal, the one that would warp Chora here. But I didn¡¯t want to use that if there was a better way. Like maybe airlifting them out. With bugs. Where the heck was Logy when you needed her?! I''d have to check in a calmer moment, but wherever she was, it wasn''t close enough! Well, I didn¡¯t have time to stand and mope. I charged toward the injured group, Morphing on the way¡ªthen when I got in front of them, I pulled out a piece of paper that¡¯d been ready in my pocket. ¡°My name is Taipha. I¡¯m here to help. Please tell me what I can do.¡± I really really wished I¡¯d been equipped with some of our first aid. We¡¯d only had two kits to go around. They weren¡¯t magic and weren¡¯t instant, but they would¡¯ve been something. These people were carrying teammates on their backs, grimacing through pain. Yet the one right in front of me still managed to say, ¡°Thank you. Thank you. If you can just fight them off¡ª¡± A rasping howl, somehow too dry to be animal, sounded behind us. I nodded, un-Morphed, and ran for the vine-beast¡ªit turned out to be two. Plus the ground was shaking, and breaking up a little. Oh gosh.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Well, I was no longer on a rapidly moving vehicle, and thanks to the meager boost given by Bayce¡¯s Intelligence cantrip, I was no longer afraid to equip the Debug Blade. I finally had the confidence that it would not be the thing bringing us all to certain doom. So I jumped forward, just enough to get good distance between me and the people I was now defending. I landed straight into some mind-controlling vines¡ªa threat I would deal with in about five seconds. Right now, I equipped my blade. Then stacked on an Attack Up.
ATK 908 (x5 +50%)
Even as my Intelligence dipped, it occurred to me that the scratchy-scratchy glowing masses now rushing around my feet and ankles should be hurting me more. In fact, that pulsing energy I sensed within them should be rocketing into my pores, and through to my brain! Oh wait. Of course it wouldn¡¯t. Wisdom was Magic Defense, and that¡¯d gone up too. More modestly, but the gains were there.
WIS 218 (x2)
I sliced them off without fear. My chop was rough, but so powerful that it tore them away in a single, glancing blow. Then I hefted the sword into a rising cut, ripping through a larger foe. And for several minutes after that, I dueled. This wasn¡¯t like the trancelike state I¡¯d fallen into at Cornutopia, fighting that stream of raccoons with such a blur of determination that they all seemed to become one. No, I remembered each and every one of these foes. The flytrap, speckled with sickness from an Outlaster¡¯s poison needles, that had nearly clamped its jaws over my forearm, before I shoved my heel where its face would¡¯ve been and jammed the sword hilt into its lack of eyes. The vine that branched off into spinning, razor leaves, too fast to cut¡ªso I didn¡¯t try, killing it at the base. The dandelion tree that leaned down and started to swing at ground level, attempting to bowl everyone over, stopped by a sword going where a beast would have a heart. When one Attack Up wore out about five minutes in, I briefly debated whether to use another or just keep going. Wait, I thought, I can do better. Ten minutes later, I had a bit of a lull. I mean, technically several mammoth vines were working in concert like a kraken¡¯s storming limbs to try and smack me down¡­and yet it happened. Somebody else tagged in, so to speak, freezing the latest attacker, sending the tip of a tentacle crashing to the ground, encased in an icicle prison. The freeze tripped up the ¡°kraken¡¯s¡± whole strategy, and they began to crash, flail, and tangle themselves up. They¡¯d be free soon, but yeah, I had a bit of a lull. Still standing, still in nekomata form, I let my shoulders relax as I checked my Stats.
HP 77% (678/678)
SP 52% (446/855)
Not bad at all. I was adept enough at dodging now that most of my injuries were just the cost of tumbling with no mats: less battle scars, more falling on rocks. Meanwhile, being in this form constantly drained my SP, but ever since I¡¯d Evolved into a Calico Ranger, Morph had been lasting much longer. Performance varied so much depending on what I was doing that I always had trouble gauging its time limits, but¡­yeah, I could fight like this for a good while longer. And that was the real issue. I couldn¡¯t tell whether this battle was calming down or about to really stretch on. I decided, on instinct and faith, that it was calming down. I¡¯d looked over my shoulder and seen people escaping further into the trees, toward areas that my Map told me were less monster-infested. I would believe I was growing those numbers. Anyway, why was I messing around with Attack Up when I could just equip and unequip until I multiplied Attack by exactly 7? Then again, I had my reasons for not doing that to begin with. I mean, it took me exactly eighty-two tries, my base SP randomly dipping below normal gave me profound stomach pain, and checking my Stats so fast they flickered like this almost got me a seizure, but heck if the rest of this place didn¡¯t already make my head throb. Besides, I had practiced this a little bit yesterday. I wasn¡¯t a master (of my own dubious art), but when base SP stayed high and that magic number rolled in, I did not let it pass.
ATK 1155 (x7)
139. Freedom, By Some Twisted Standard I spotted DeGalle dmAge through the carnage, and DeGalle spotted me. Through the unending smoke, she charged¡ªlooking angry¡ªhopefully not angry at me. My reaction to this was, Uh, whatever. Wasn¡¯t like I needed her help. Now I felt like a pro with the Debug Blade. I had no pro-level moves, but who needed that when the Attack gain was so ludicrously high? All these barbarian blows even made for a decent defense¡ªif I saw a vine coming at me from the corner of my eye, all I needed was a mild shake sideways and bam, a clump of plant life would fly away. I¡¯d have called the carnage scary if I could tell whether these plants had plant consciousness. Or if I were in a daze killing in cold blood, which I thankfully was done with. Point being, I didn¡¯t think I needed DeGalle¡¯s help, but I¡­supposed she could jump in, if she wanted. Despite me remaining unconvinced that she was a total goofus, on my list of preferred allies, she was at the bottom, just under Sierra and above that lycanborn mother and son. Oddly enough, she was both wearing gauntlets and wielding a scythe. It didn¡¯t rankle my instincts, though¡ªas a wild animal, I kinda took it for granted that one should pick up anything they could salvage from the hands of the dead. Um¡­were there dead? DeGalle charged not at me, but at the nearest two-hundred-foot dandelion. Actually, once she made contact with a free fist, she seemed to blink out of existence into a mere shadow along with a chunk of it¡ªthen they both reappeared, but one was charred almost to nothing. The whole tree fell before us. ¡°Hey,¡± she said, and even though she was more than a little bloody all over, her voice was hale and hearty. ¡°How fast are you?¡± I squinted. It was words she wanted, and words she would not get. ¡°Meow,¡± I gasped out just as a tide of mobile-firing razor leaves flew for me. Holding my blade up before my face chopped them apart on contact. That¡¯s impressive when the leaves are as thick as bricks. Then I processed her question more fully. ¡°Fast¡±? ¡°Fast¡± by what metric? Those leaves died pretty fast, if that was what she me¡ª Someone sped past me. Oh, maybe that was related. I turned dully, just catching sight of¡ªwha?¡ªoh! A human lying on the back of a running sheep. With the aura trailing behind that sheep, together they looked like one weird comet. ¡°They¡¯re running to sa¡ªugh!¡± DeGalle was slapped in the arm mid-speech, but again, her ¡°ugh¡± sounded less pained and more mildly perturbed. She swung her scythe into a green limb so huge it nearly blocked my view of her. I swore it froze in place as DeGalle then hacked away, the scythe-end poking out almost into my face. Thus the annoyance was dealt with. ¡°They¡¯re running to safety.¡± Safe places in our vicinity? Did those exist? My Map¡¯s answer was¡­yes! Nearly! There were still vicious plants in pretty much every area there had been before, but now most of that terrain was a very light gray. As a matter of fact, the biggest danger was¡ªright below me! In maybe a two-hundred-meter bubble, let¡¯s say. This all was a huge relief. but all the same, this whole square was all dangerous land. DeGalle would have to get some pretty fast runners to actually find them safety. It felt so risky to me that earlier when I¡¯d found humans in need, I hadn¡¯t even bothered moving them. Once I realized that was all DeGalle was prepared to ask me to do, I tuned her out. Heidschi had lots and lots of sheep, and they could all hoof it, but I had only one me and¡­not to boast, but my Attack outshone the rest. Soon DeGalle got the idea, and we did indeed become battle partners. When I wasn¡¯t cleaving tiny foot vines apart, we shifted into a one-two combo: DeGalle would hook her blade into a vine and I would stab it. Or chop it, or even knee it a few good times until it became a fine pulp. Something about her scythe stunned them, especially when the foe was especially big and she wailed on them time after time. Then I found myself panting and hunched forward, standing still¡­and I blinked. Nothing was flying out to get us? But the black spot wasn¡¯t gone yet. Sure, the rest of the enemies were a slightly lighter gray, but, um¡­ Suddenly two gauntlets shoved me to the ground. I carved my shoulder apart on a rock. I didn¡¯t blame her. I¡¯d only just realized that vines underfoot had reared up around my feet, already wrapped around my ankles. I could have punched myself in the face for letting this happen. Okay, at least DeGalle¡ªdespite not pushing me hard or well enough to keep the vines from consuming me¡ªwas kneeling with her scythe, ready to slice. And at least I had the presence of mind to still be holding my blade. We would end this together, in a flash. It turned out that magical vines need less than a flash to do their work. They just need to be on you. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. A chill. A lightning bolt of violet aura, cold as absolute zero. A neuron-fast switch turned off in my brain. My vision blanked out, and I feared my mind had too. A scream was already rising to my throat¡ªbut already I couldn¡¯t feel it, losing sensation to a new host. All I could think as I lost control was, I am so glad I saved a few others. ¡­Thank goodness I was only out cold for a minute at most. A sheep was carrying me on their back. Now I¡¯d reverted to cat form and back to a smaller, more portable size¡ªthe dropped golden blade in the sheep¡¯s mouth, thankfully¡ªso at least I didn¡¯t look as awkward riding this creature as knocked-out humans. Speaking of, as the chill of mind control left me, left nothing but its imprint, I looked around at the battlefield¡­searching for bodies. There were lots of vines, but not a lot of people. Smoke and aura was clearing, but I thought I still noticed an eerie sepia tint just above the ground. Still, the most important thing was, there were hardly any human bodies. These sheep and whoever else is finding survivors is doing really good work! I marveled. Unless flytraps eat people? Don¡¯t say that, Taipha. Then I looked up and¡ªwoah. Please excuse me for not hearing this earlier. The humming of krigries just didn¡¯t penetrate, especially not when they were swarming not in a single mob, but in dozens of dozen-strong little groups. A daisy chain of krigries had formed a circuit reaching up and out of the sandy forest. Each tiny swarm was carrying its own human, and when they finished, they came back for more. Down to the place where this sheep was heading. ¡°Meh-h-h,¡± the sheep said in warning before bowing and rolling me off. I tumbled onto my feet, and as soon as the sheep released the blade, I Inventorized it. Then they sped off¡ªthe rescue mission went on. Just ahead, I saw what looked like five roughed-up, rugged farmer dudes patiently telling a krigrie cloud that they appreciated the thought, but were headed back in. For the record, the krigries did not seem to understand them, and it took swatting them away from their collars for the farmers to stay on solid ground. But also¡­what?! They were going back?! And then I realized, Wait, but I want to go back! Did they know what I knew¡ªthere was still some danger back there? Wait, hold on. Was I even that far out from the big black spot? No! We were still on the frickin¡¯ rim! People had an inkling of what I knew, but nobody had, y¡¯know, the Map. And the Map itself had incomplete data. Map, what¡¯s in that spot?
Danger.
Okay, well, at least it told me where Logy was. Which was nowhere in this Square. As much as I would¡¯ve liked to appreciate the demonstration of new goodwill that was carrying the injured to safety, I was too busy panicking. Whe¡­when are we going to stop it?! What do we have to do, drill a mile underground?! HOLY CRAP, DON¡¯T SAY THAT EITHER! Then Reed and Chora appeared, farther from the black spot, through a gap in some thankfully immobile trees. Reed called out, ¡°Taipha! Let¡¯s retreat!¡± ¡°No!¡± Chora snapped at her, and I had to agree, at least for myself. I wouldn¡¯t argue. I would just act. I turned to run back into the fray, this time determined to¡ªsigh¡ªdig a mile underground. I¡¯d consider it practice for the dungeon ahead¡­unless¡ª A dull, vast boom sounded, and made the choice for all of us. We were all staying, no one was going to retreat, because the earth itself was making a decision for us. Faster than a blink, the sand became a slope. We were rolling, losing what little HP we had. Then we were falling. The world was drenched in the brown glow of some otherworldly catacombs. The sand collapsing beneath my feet glowed so powerfully now¡ªuntil it fell away completely and I realized it was never the source of the glow to begin with. It was never infused with magic, or radiating from some Spell¡¯s aftereffect. There had been something below it. Something very very large that, until moments ago, from an aerial view, had been roughly spot-shaped. Before I¡¯d even fully processed what was happening around me, I thought to ask, Map?! That spot grew to an oval. So that was why some new danger was unfolding beneath me! But it explained nothing else. Oh wow, I thought. Despite my Intelligence being back to normal, and even a little augmented, I had the least intelligent reaction possible. That was just how awed I was by the scale of this thing reaching up all around me. This pair of massive flytrap jaws. That seemed to be growing. After literal seconds of quaking and buildup, so much sandy terrain, with gargantuan plants, and a scale that puts a tear in your eye, was being swallowed into a black¡ªsorry, brownish-orangish hole, ridged with at least ten rows of teeth, its palate on the far far end before me ridged with writhing forms that I had to guess were the thinnest vines, the mind-controllers. Beneath us was the source of the glow. It could¡¯ve been a darn esophagus, for all I knew, but the amount I cared about that was nothing compared to how much I cared about us being alive. Reed, Chora, a more distant DeGalle, even more scattered sheep, and five rugged farmers were all falling within a gaping maw. Let me repeat that: falling within. We were already inside. The teeth were zooming far above us at the speed of twin freight trains. Soon the jaws would clamp together, and we would be devoured¡ªor all those mouth-vines would grant us a mercy by just possessing us. But even as gravity began to claim me and I went speeding down the dank corridor that was plant guts, I didn¡¯t lose heart. After all, if we changed our trajectories and banded together, we could probably find a way out of this! Weren¡¯t there helpful insects in here? ¡­Yes, and they were zipping away, clinging to the collars of some very thankful farmers. High above, those five figures shrank, and so did the expanse of sky blue they were headed for. Soon it would be only a band. But the sheep, I thought, immediately jinxing it as about eighteen sheep were consumed in eighteen streams of lemon-yellow light. Then they were gone. Wow, they really were pocketable monsters. DeGalle had the perfect arsenal for getting us out of this: some kind of different-dimension punching power, a weird scythe, maybe even teleportation! And she used one or all of the above to disappear herself out of there as soon as I spotted her. Ugh! I thought on an existential level. This left me, Reed, and Chora. And an all-consuming maw, of course. 140. Speedout ¡°Urgh!¡± ¡°Ow!¡± ¡°Mrowf!¡± Chora, Reed and I bumped together in the middle of a monstrous chasm. The enormous jaws stratospherically high above us were beginning to clamp together. After that, I predicted those writhing vines just barely visible on the roof of its mouth¡ªor toxic plant saliva¡ªwould claim us. Or not. As soon as we collided, Chora clamped her arms around us as best as she could, given the gale-force forces blowing in our faces as we skydove. Then she kicked powerfully below us, unleashing a gust to rival the gale. We didn¡¯t shoot upwards, but we did slow. She kicked more and more, groaning with exertion. My heart broke at the sound. If I was exhausted, then these two had to be beyond wiped. Yet Chora had been prepared to keep fighting¡­and against what turned out to be this kaiju-level threat. But her blows were only desperate paddling. Even after several seconds of gust-bursts, we still hadn¡¯t rounded that bend and gone from slowing our descent to upward movement. The two Attack Ups I had on me could double that. Doubling wouldn¡¯t be enough. And what if her moves benefitted more from Intelligence than Attack? Too many unknowns. I didn¡¯t even consider helping her out with Air Cutter. That wouldn¡¯t do it either. Though I felt Reed shift and maneuver in Chora¡¯s grip, and grab her sword and begin to charge hot energy, I was concentrating on my own plan, looking straight down. Here, too, we needed to think different. We simply didn¡¯t have time to do anything else. ¡­Yes! That¡¯ll definitely work! Old Faithful! Old Reliable! The kernel of the idea hit me almost instantly. It was every step after Step One and Step Two that I left for later¡ªagain, no time! What had begun as an almost gentle glow of orange immensely far beneath us had a source, one that was growing in my vision. When I looked down, I now saw a distinct dot. One still too far and too faint for my human friends to see. One hard for me to see. Its sides enmeshed in flesh. I wriggled in Chora¡¯s arms just enough to get a clear view. Then I cast it. Lightning! A bolt of the fastest magic we had cascaded down to the spot. There was no crackle, but the sight of it flashed me back to every stormy night. Thunder should¡¯ve pealed, a clocktower should have struck midnight as the lightning lanced down and struck true. I tried to capture whatever faint sound the blow made. Plant flesh sizzled, ever so slightly, but I didn¡¯t hear the dot shatter. ¡°Huh,¡± you may be thinking. ¡°Why would Taipha think the dot shattered? I mean, I, the reader, have my own guess, because I¡¯ve been here taking notes, but I didn¡¯t think Taipha was smart enough to make that kind of deduction. Plus, she hadn¡¯t even mentioned that object in at least thirty chapters.¡± Well, you know, rude reader, I had been working on my deductive reasoning. Both inductive and conductive¡ªer, deductive, but come on, we used lightning here, let me have that one! I could cogitate in the background! I could review info in post! And I could connect the shining lump in my Inventory to what I saw in that throat!! Without missing a beat, I cast a second Spell on that distant, unshattered dot. Good that I kept myself laser-focused and didn¡¯t freeze up, because now the flytrap was angry. The monster¡ªwhich was basically a dome around us¡ªroiled. A gasping dry roar echoed from below, and with its every reverberation, vines curdled in a visual chorus. The weird brown light flickered. Reed stiffened, and Chora gripped tighter. Her kicks, plus energy blasts from Reed¡¯s broadsword, were finally propelling us upward, but it was literally inch by inch. We bobbed in the air. Whatever those two were shouting to each other¡ªto me¡ªI tuned out as I cast Attract. Yep, I always knew I had to use this one! That shard of Cornutopia Topaz was no longer so enmeshed in flesh. That should mean that instead of me zooming toward an immovable object directly connected to a monumental beast, it would zoom up to me. And if I Inventorized a chunk of gemstone said to ¡°foster plant growth,¡± well, it might just stop growing! A rock rolled through the air and into my face. I Inventorized it, but not before it clunked me in the jaw. ¡°Mrow-w-w!¡± This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Ow?!¡± Reed gasped. Darnit, Reed couldn¡¯t be out here worrying about me! Not while the gigantic flytrap shook like the surface of the ocean! Then I realized it wasn¡¯t just upset, it was¡­shriveling up? A deafening crack hit our ears. Our ¡°ceiling¡± had caved in with a lurch. Instead of a band of sky blue, we were inching towards a triangle as one jaw knocked against another. Great, now instead of being eaten, we¡¯d merely be crushed to death by tons of plant matter. Even more cracks sounded, the amplified cracks of brittle, dry leaves. Again, I did not consult Reed and Chora on my next move, but I did try to bark a little reassurance. ¡°Meow!¡± I belted out, loading the word with all the confidence I could. At the same time, I shoved myself down, out of Chora¡¯s arms, and clung to her feet. She stopped instantly. I sensed her fear¡ªtheir fear¡ªas if it were ice melting and trailing down my neck. Reed loosened in her surprised grip, but I hoped desperately that the two would stick together. First I secured my front claws as best I could to the undersides of Chora¡¯s shoes. Then my paws became hands as I transformed. A nekomata hurtled through a shattering void beneath them, but only for a moment. Instantly I de-Meat Lockered a slab of meat that I somehow hadn¡¯t gotten rid of: a big gackern. The scaly Capricorn appeared beneath my feet. I touched down¡­ Threw my two Attack Ups into my legs¡­ Threw my Low-Gravity Spell up at Chora just in case ¡­ Held back a sneeze from the cavalcade of smells these Spells and meats unleashed¡­ And burned off a Leap.
HP 29% (259/883)
SP 32% (273/855)
ATK 330 (+100%)
The sheer energy blasting through my legs as I bounced off that gackern, and the delirium of the past several frantic hours, combined with the speeding thrill of flinging myself higher and higher, towards the collapse and that mangled string of a sky¡ªmade me feel more powerful than I ever had before. I¡­I¡¯m undefeatable! Time would tell, though¡ªcounted in seconds! As we soared ever higher, I heard some kind of gurgle. It turned out to be laughter, a sound as confused and tired as I was. Reed in Chora¡¯s arms. What a beautiful moment. In a twisted way, I was happy to be here, doing my utmost to protect¡­ We weren¡¯t gonna make it. My momentum was slowing down! Sure, the ceiling-jaws were rupturing further as they heaped against each other, but they were still sealing our way out of here! Fire! I thought¡ªpretty carelessly. One of my two Fire Spells was flung straight ahead into the distance, and it petered out long before it hit anything. Okay, next idea! The rocky chunk of an Earth Spell passed me. I tried to jump on it for more leverage, but it disappeared too quickly into the void. NO! The second and last Earth Spell, though, I didn¡¯t let pass. With another Leap, I sprang through the next wall of air. Then, relentless, not willing to wait for those jaws above to collapse and crackle any further, I ejected the very last bony remains of the pit dragon toe I¡¯d needed for the cantrip¡ªanother Leap¡ªand even managed to step on the old grimy little hell marmot¡ªanother Leap. Well, it would¡¯ve been, but I didn¡¯t have enough SP. But we might just be high enough. The crack of blue light above us was tiny, but it grew in our vision, and now it came ridiculously fast. So fast that finally I had to aim¡ªwhich was difficult when underneath two other people. And, holy crap, we were off-target! The closer we got, the more I knew it. A blast of heat from Reed¡¯s broadsword shot into the ceiling. I saw it make an impact, but it didn¡¯t quite burn. But maybe if I added a¡ª Lightning! That peal of thunder I¡¯d wanted to hear so badly struck above, searing a hole in the ceiling just beside the patch of sky. Not as strong against plant matter as a fireball, but not as slow as one, either. The hole was more of a pinprick, but even so, we burst through¡ª No, we bumped our heads. I swore I heard a distinct poomf as Chora, Reed, or both hit what amounted to a crispy cavern ceiling. As their momentum halted, my head was bashed into Chora¡¯s shoes. In an instant, all my hope failed. We were about to plunge. We would have, if Reed hadn¡¯t managed to reach up through that hole with a single arm. Whatever she was grabbing¡ªunless she was just using sheer bracing strength¡ªkept us hovering for a heartstopping moment. The flytrap matter rocked with a shoonk. We lurched downward along with the rest of this chunk of ceiling, falling ten meters in a blink. Everyone yelped. Then I realized that it was dead silent. In the eerie mouth-cave, I changed back into cat form and slowly, carefully crawled up Chora¡¯s leg, mentally thanking and praising her arm strength as well as Reed¡¯s today. If anything had gone the extra mile¡­it was those. Sorry, I thought as I climbed onto her head. Guilty for not only smothering her just now, but also getting the first real breather and drink of sunlight. I delicately squeezed myself through, between Reed¡¯s arm and the flaky-yet-tough surface of the flytrap. Then I was outside¡ªand the first thing I noticed was the slow creak of the plant-terrain I was standing on. No time to examine, though, Using my claws, I scraped the edges of the hole that wouldn¡¯t disturb Reed¡¯s grip. She¡¯d actually jabbed her fingers through the tough hide of the flytrap, creating her own handhold. I didn¡¯t want her to lose it, so I didn¡¯t work too fast. (Unlike just earlier.) Then, when the hole was big enough for shoulders, I Morphed, reached in, and yanked her up. SHOONK. The world rattled and the floor below sank another several meters, but I didn¡¯t even slow down. The faster I heaved Reed and Chora out, the sooner it would stop mattering. Then, with a final groan, I pulled Chora to the surface. And we just ran. 141. Ridge of Cerulean The outlandishly gigantic monster was now terrain beneath our feet. Crumbling, dust-dry, almost rocky terrain. Dead as a single curved, breaking bone, it undulated in cracks and boulders, and strewn across it were all the dandelion trees. Their bare tops and scattered leaves were like burst bubbles. When Reed, Chora and I stopped running, it was when the open dunes began. We stopped and turned, appalled. Where the dead plant began, the patch of wood had once been. That one flytrap had destroyed an entire unique ecosystem. Now it continued the long collapse in on itself. When it was finished falling, it¡¯d leave a mind-bogglingly huge chasm in its wake. If nothing else, it¡¯d make another interesting passage for Logy to poke around in. I shivered. The euphoria of minutes ago was gone. I didn¡¯t like using silly words like ¡°poke¡±¡ªeven in my head¡ªin the face of so much pointless death. At least here at the edge of the bygone wood, the three of us rejoined Bayce and Heidschi. They¡¯d been waiting for us. Apparently, DeGalle had just buzzed off. Ugh¡­and Logy, speaking of buzzing. High in the sky, a condor wheeled around. Should I have felt guilty for wishing he¡¯d done more? Well, I didn¡¯t. The dunes ahead looked spotless, shining, almost too perfect. There was no trace of the smoke we were leaving behind. When we all got together and were facing each other, instead of the incredible destruction, Bayce piped up saying, ¡°I¡¯ve got two hands, and Heidschi¡¯s got a drum. How about I cheer us up by¡­¡± None of us smiled. Bayce let the idea drop. We all watched in a thoughtful silence as Reed investigated a very beat-up car. Bayce had stored it in her bracelet-and-bangle-based Inventory, thank goodness. But that Inventory wasn¡¯t meant to hold something so big. That was why it looked so¡­crumpled. There was about twenty-five percent less seating space. I could sit in it. But could anyone drive it without an explosion? Apparently not, because in the end, Reed only sighed. ¡°We have sandwiches,¡± she said. ¡°Pool toys aren¡¯t too crushed.¡± Bayce¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°That¡¯s right, they¡¯re practically foam.¡± ¡°Actually,¡± Chora said, ¡°they are foam.¡± Heidschi raised a cautious hand. ¡°If we want a ride, then maybe¡­¡± It turned out that Heidschi had been keeping some sheep hale and hearty in emergency reserve, just in case the motor gave out (or was obliterated). Heidschi themself didn¡¯t look all that well¡ªnone of us did¡ªand I imagined they¡¯d used a lot of SP buffing and healing people for the past two hours or more. Still, they had the strength to do at least this. Summoning a single sheer from their ball, the shepherd then had a brief, cordial debate. In between bleats, Heidschi explained pros, cons, and the glistening acres of water ahead. Then, thoughtfully, they added that the water would be like a big flowing salt lick. ¡°Me-e-eh,¡± the sheep said with a fateful nod. I looked up at Reed. Part of me wanted to overflow with thanks¡ªnot just to her, but to everyone¡ªbut part of me was just too rattled¡ªand so was everyone. This broke my silence. After giving her leg an affectionate brush, I spelled out, ¡°THE SHEEP KNOW LANGUAGE?¡± ¡°I doubt that,¡± she said. ¡°The ones who do are soulbound, or, like in your case, they¡¯re from elsewhere.¡± The sheep kneeled, and then Heidschi began a drumbeat, this one slower and softer than any I could remember hearing from the shepherd. The beat unspooled, and curled around us, seeming to cradle the sheep in aura. Then without warning, Heidschi bashed the drumhead. A second phase, sweeping and warlike, started changing the animal into something larger, even more monstrous. A great goat-horse with a gazelle¡¯s horns and a yak¡¯s shaggy fur was kneeling before us, pulsing with cream-colored light. Riding the animal as one big group was a tight fit, but it wasn¡¯t so bad if Heidschi walked beside it, beating a gentle tattoo about once a minute. Chora almost volunteered to follow, but I gave her a curt ¡°maow!¡± and hopped off the steed myself. Already it didn¡¯t seem right to have the shepherd going on foot. But I barely had the mental bandwidth to be debating right and wrong. As we strode along calm, loping, glimmering dunes, letting our tension fall, I could only ponder why in the world I had not received a single Level Up from this, Sierra you frickin¡¯ coward! Is putting my all into saving innocents not Quest-worthy enough for you? Then again, I thought, if we¡¯re gonna be fair, we should also consider the fact that I befriended a living butterfly superweapon! No Level Up from that!
Complete!
Quest: Have the Guts to Demand a Better Salary
Rewards: Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. +Bonus EXP! +8000 Gold! +Self-Respect!
Wow. WOW. ¡°Minus respect for Sierra,¡± I would say, if that weren¡¯t redundant at this point.
Level Up!
Lv. 31 ¡ú Lv. 32
A notification that I could Evolve flashed into my vision and I immediately raged at the machine. Get this outta my face.
Message minimized.
What was ordinarily a huge honking gray box right on my nose became instead a little bar in the bottom-right corner of my vision. This was still annoying¡ªin some ways more so, because having it in my peripheral vision made my subconscious think it was a swattable fly¡ªbut at least I still had eyes. I guess asking for things, I thought, fully aware of my snark, is what separates the cats from the girls. What a holy and inspiring message. Hey, what¡¯s wrong, huh? Is Sierra too scared to come out and say something? She want me to feel bad for her?
Message from Sierra, the Goddess of Nekomata
No, I¡¯m sitting back crying tears of joy.
You are being sarcastic.
I¡¯m not. This is what I always wanted.
You are!
I¡¯m not!
YOU ARE! We went back and forth exactly like that for, uh, longer than I¡¯d like to admit. Eventually I gave up out of sheer boredom. This time I was, perhaps, the bad guy, but I had to say I deserved a chance to be bad for once. After all of today¡¯s¡­well, garbage. It was great news that I¡¯d just gotten stronger and my body was no longer aching, but it was taking me quite a while to snap back to normal and enjoy things like that. But the beauty of the dunes was working on me. Trudging up the rim of the sand-bowl valley, I was awed by the sight of that goat-steed tenaciously marching beside me with barely a heavy breath. Even more surprising was how Heidschi managed to scale on hand and foot¡ªslowly, but without any new scrapes, and always pausing to drum a new beat before the Spell on their sheep faded. According to my Map, the clouds of monstrous vines were well and truly gone. The big dot was no more. Ahead was smooth sailing. Especially after a battle that, frankly, would have sent most land animals packing, like the prey those hell marmots smoked out with their wildfire way back. Then we finally came up over the rim. We weren¡¯t there yet¡ªanother fifteen minutes of walking into a shallower sand valley would do it¡ªbut now we could see everything. Cresting a dandelion log, I caught a full view of the lake¡¯s splendor. It was big, alright. So big I would hazard to call it ¡°great.¡± Its waters were silver-black, slowly undulating, and far off, I thought I could see dark, dolphin-shaped figures curling in and out. Everything glittered, like magic as nature. The sun was still high, playing on the center of the incredible pool. Foam lapped at the coast. And no other humans were around. My Earth knowledge and my time in Earth cities had led me to expect at least a few other people to be milling around here¡ªyes, even with the battle. But no¡­if ¡°desolate¡± means ¡°has no humans,¡± then yeah. Gorgeous and nonthreatening, yet desolate. Don¡¯t tell me Vencia doesn¡¯t have tourist culture. Because that would be too good to be true. I stopped, Heidschi patted sand off their dress, and the goat-steed sniffed. All six of us took one deep breath. To my amazement, the air was salty. And while the smell was probably subtle for humans, when you took it in consciously like this, with smoke and blood at your back and the images of the gentle waves right in front¡­it must have hit them full on. After that breath came an unmistakable collective sigh. ¡°I¡¯m so done with today.¡± Amazingly, that voice was Chora¡¯s. As Heidschi tapped the drum and the goat led us down for another fifteen woozy minutes, Chora unloaded without mercy. ¡°That was a marathon I never expected to experience. Never!¡± She sounded amazed at herself. ¡°But every time I thought I couldn¡¯t use another technique, I just¡­broke one out.¡± Chora sighed again and stared up at the sky, her body almost flopping sideways off the goat. ¡°I don¡¯t think my body will forgive me for at least a week.¡± Everyone spent a few moments in silent acknowledgement. She¡¯d said pretty much what we were all thinking¡ªand it had to be worse for them than for me. ¡°They say the salt in the water is naturally healing,¡± Reed told us. ¡°I¡¯m about ready to get in there and¡­¡± She sighed as if lost in the daydream of it. That just made it more confusing that there were no human beach chairs or residences in sight. Come on, not even some fresh footprints? What could possibly explain this except that¡­that Vencia was maybe just really big, and had way cooler lakes? Or that it had about five hundred humans? Or both?! Well, I could ask in about twelve minutes. Or I could just take a nap in the shallows, letting just a hint of saltwater cradle me. That seemed like a nicer idea. 142. Scarlet Carmina How did I end up staying awake even longer while the rest of the gang conked out behind me?! It just didn¡¯t make any sense¡ªuntil I remembered how amazing the beach scene all around me was, and how especially splendid it was in the late-afternoon light. And the fact that Reed was up too. Whether it was the aftereffects of her adrenaline, some desire to guard everyone else, or a little of both, here we were. Shoulder to shoulder¡­well, my shoulder to her leg as she sat in a beach chair and I intermittently grazed her kneecap. I realized that before I knew, the sunset would be creeping upon us. Sitting here on the east side of the eastern lake, we would miss out on that big lemon sinking into the water. Yet having the sinking sun at our backs, shining on the three tents behind us, would be beautiful in its own way. Already I was looking forward to the twilight, and drowsy though I was, it was not for the sake of sleep. As the sky verged on orange, Reed discussed what I will call business: the fates of the hunting party members and whoever else, the next steps she thought other people might take. I yawned but tried to hide it. Not because I didn¡¯t care, but because it was hard to. Now they seemed so distant, almost abstract. When she mentioned ¡°death,¡± my ears twitched. ¡°At least it wasn¡¯t that many,¡± she said. ¡°Of course, I¡¯ll have to find numbers later. But, um¡­¡± She swallowed. ¡°When I reconvened with Chora, Bayce, and Heidschi¡ªwho¡¯d all reconvened with others¡ªit sounded like among us all, there were only two bodies.¡± Reed sighed. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t say ¡®only.¡¯¡± ¡°EVERYONE DID OUR BEST¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± ¡°WE LITERALLY WERENT THERE THE WHOLE TIME¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that part, Taipha. I don¡¯t blame myself¡­I don¡¯t blame us.¡± She stared across the water, gathering her thoughts again. The coo of a gull skipped across the tides and reached us. ¡°Another¡­dubiously good thing is that not too many people were, um, controlled by those vines.¡± ¡°I WAS¡± Reed turned and stared, so fast it was startling. ¡°You didn¡¯t¡­get sucked under, did you?¡± It was my turn to stare. Slowly I spelled, ¡°THAT HAPPENED?¡± ¡°I saw it!¡± A new horror overtook her. ¡°One person went under. Sand just¡­splattered everywhere as they disappeared in a flash.¡± Her hands mimicked the burst. ¡°I¡¯m going to assume that they¡¯re not alive.¡± ¡°U KNO¡­IF ITS UNDERGROUND THERES STILL A CHANCE¡± After a pause, Reed nodded, without conviction. Maybe I misspoke. After all, that flytrap was very huge. Even if I assumed that its mouth hadn¡¯t opened until the very end, that didn¡¯t mean some other plant with a mouth hadn¡¯t eaten that human. There¡¯d been so many. In this moment, I had to stop shielding Reed from a bad feeling. I had to just¡­let her sit in the grief. A grief I only shared so much. I wasn¡¯t fully human, and I didn¡¯t have years of history with Outlast like Reed did¡ªor even years of history with any other being. But if she cared, then I would care. And if she was human, then¡­heck! ¡°Speaking of that underground¡­situation¡­I noticed Logy actually helping.¡± ¡°Meow.¡± ¡°And DeGalle too, I think.¡± ¡°YEAH¡­SHE USED WEIRD SCYTHE¡± ¡°Oh gosh. It wasn¡¯t a scythe that stopped time, was it?¡± ¡°NO IT JUST MADE THINGS SLOWE¡­OH OK YEAH¡± Reed squinted. ¡°Is it na?ve of me to wish she¡¯d find a way to obliterate all those time stones instead of using them to her advantage?¡± On the one hand, refining weapons that could potentially freeze one¡¯s enemies in place could be such a game-changing power that it could serve truth and justice at a single stroke. On the other hand, rampant corruption! ¡°NOT NA?VE,¡± I said. ¡°U JUST WANT AN IDEAL WORLD¡± ¡°¡­Thank you, but¡­¡± The sky was becoming red. Instead of burning, it began to cool, an easy wind brushing across the beach. Crap, I thought. What am I even doing? My mind had been too focused on listening to her. Or on the topics to soften, or to avoid. I¡¯d neglected to consider that even if I felt I didn¡¯t have much to talk about on my end, I still had things to say about her! I told her: the way she hoisted everyone up in the final flytrap escape was so impressive it was scary. Her endurance was supernatural. ¡°SRSLY I DONT KNO HOW U STILL HAD THAT IN U,¡± I said. ¡°WHY R U STILL AWAKE?!?! U DESERVE REST!!!¡± But neither of us were quite sleepy enough, or even quite hungry. Reed took all my compliments with a modest chuckle and a look away, and I expected nothing less. But one of these days, I¡¯d break through that outer shell¡­ Suddenly she got a faraway, shining look in her eyes. In the slowly fading light, she looked both passionate and ominous. ¡°In a few weeks,¡± she said, ¡°I¡¯m going to be a totally different person.¡± I cocked my head. ¡°Mrah?¡± She hammered a fist into her palm. ¡°A master crafter!¡± The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°Mrr?!¡± ¡°I¡¯m just an amateur now, and I never practice! That¡¯s barely any better than a hobbyist! But when you think about it, crafting the best weapons I possibly can is the best way I can contribute to¡­well, to our trip to the dungeon, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°OK BUT REED MAYBE WE CAN BUY WEAPONS?¡± She shook her head. ¡°The best ones, the ones most attuned to you, are infused with your aura in the crafting process.¡± ¡°OK WE HIRE AN EXPERT! U JUST GET MORE GOOD AT FIGHTING!¡± ¡°That¡¯ll take like a week!¡± ¡°UM WELL MAYBE I CANT STOP U¡­PROBABLY I SHOULDNT.¡± I lightened up¡ªmaybe there was a twinkle in my eye now too. ¡°ITLL BE COOL! IM WAITING FOR MY COOL BLADE THINGS¡± Reed giggled. ¡°I know!¡± She grew thoughtful again. ¡°But also, I¡¯ve been thinking¡­since this dungeon is underneath this very forest, it might well be populated by spirits who are tied to this place. You know, like the spirit we both found at the Beacon! And¡­¡± She blushed. ¡°There aren¡¯t too many people around with that combination of local spiritual knowledge and, um, a powerful sword.¡± Reed boasting about herself. I never thought I¡¯d see the day. It sure made her shrivel and shrink, and suddenly her knees were practically locked together. ¡°DARN RIGHT,¡± I affirmed. ¡°UN-KNOCK THOSE KNEES. GIVE ME A POWER STANCE!¡± ¡°What does that mean?!¡± She slid her legs slightly apart. The boots grated against the sand. ¡°There, like that?¡± I grabbed one leg as well as my paw pads would allow. ¡°NO! MORE!¡± I spelled out with a back foot. Then I pulled gently¡ª Reed pulled back so fiercely that I went flying over her lap and into the sand on the other side. She gasped. The sound was dulled by all the granules trickling into my ears. ¡°Sorry! I¡¯m so sorry!¡± she cried. But I literally had no complaints. This stung a little, but it was totally called for. When Goliath starts a tug-of-war, you expect him to use Goliath strength¡­ I pulled myself out, and we made up in about five seconds, my heart laughing along with Reed. Then I ended up settling on her lap, and she stroked my back as we looked at our shadows, telling me some of her wilder weapon-crafting idea. I was getting drowsy now, so much of it went in one ear and out the other. But I hoped she wouldn¡¯t mind. I trusted her, after all. The master crafter. *** Morning came. Wait, no, this was midnight. Behind me, Reed¡¯s head lolled to the side, a crust of saliva surely about to form in the lower corner of her lips. Her fingers still touched my lower back, but fortunately, this trap was nowhere near her most devious. I could jump right off and escape if I wanted. If I wanted. Her breathing chest was so close that I wondered, for a dreamy moment, if I could lean closer to her torso and feel it more fully without her noticing. Her pulse, her warmth, had comforted me even on the tides of sleep. But¡­nah. What hunger I had was still dull¡ªnot a roar, not even a rumble. Though I wanted to see more of this beach, I¡¯d prefer to see it in the daytime, in the highest glory of summer. And with friends. Those were also pretty glorious. For now, I had nothing at all to do but sit curled up and contemplate! Reed was at least three times as good as some tide pool! ¡­Wait, I did have business.
Taipha Calico Ranger
Lv. 32 EXP: 1% (33/4800)
What the¡ªjust 33 over the goalpost?! Sierra, you¡¯re a cheapskate¡­
HP 100% (915/915)
SP 100% (885/885)
ATK 171 (+1!)
INT 99 (+1!)
DEF 119 (+1!)
WIS 113 (+1!)
SPD 141
Okay, I wasn¡¯t actually bitter. I was just concerned about Sierra sometimes, y¡¯know? She¡¯d never get any friends at this rate. But all my complaints slid away. Maybe the calming lake and its pernicious lack of ducks had put me at ease. Either that, or I was simply getting too curious about the Evolution. The rectangle had been hovering there all along. Huh. Weirdly enough, I¡¯d almost forgotten about it¡­and I supposed that was why the window was usually so big and blaring. When I focused enough on it, it grew to its standard size:
Evolution Available!
Would you like to Evolve now? (Yes / No)
¡­
You have chosen to Evolve now. This change is permanent. Once you have Evolved, you cannot go back, nor can you choose between adjacent Evolutions on your Evolution Tree. Are you sure you wish to continue?
¡­
Evolution Confirmed.
Options are available¡­
Let¡¯s blaze through this! I thought right before an hour straight of indecision. Oh boy. 143. The Best Triangle Since Bermuda When I woke up, I saw many things. I saw the glorious light-blue sky, the luminous trailing clouds, and the wings of gulls arcing overhead. I glimpsed, in the corner of my eye, a human silhouette standing in the water, as far out as the depth of the shallows would allow. Perhaps it was Chora. But it was hard to judge, for the biggest thing of all I saw was the big gray browser window that was my System notification. Unminimized, it stared me in the face, brighter than any morning glare.
Evolution Confirmed.
My sigh was audible.
Options are available¡­
It wasn¡¯t that any of these were bad options. As usual, my problem with Evolving was not a problem. I had too much of a good thing. And this time, I couldn¡¯t resolve it by asking which one was ¡°more me¡± or was best for the party. All of these would be good and they¡¯d all suit our party! I mean, one would let me go all-out, one would¡­here, just read them:
Spark Panther Alignment: Lightning Weakness: Earth Live in the shadows long enough and you become them. This cat is a storm cloud given flesh, their eyes sparks in pits of living shadow. Using a lightning attunement, they supercharge their speed and synapses. But the real trick is their Subseizure Skill, which offers control over subatomic-level electric charges¡ªa power that, if perfected and honed, can burn nerve endings and stifle enemies down to their mitochondria. The Spark Panther is everlasting dusk, that fear, that bump in the night.
Sabretoothed Kitten Alignment: Ice Weakness: Fire After millions of years dominating the fossil record, this cat is back and out for blood. Elementally attuned to the ice of a distant age, they hunt ruthlessly and recklessly. Piercing Sabers extends the kitten¡¯s fangs to their primal length and chills them, flash-freezing enemies. A blow that doesn¡¯t kill hurts the user, but one that does boosts their strength, and boosts stack. Sabretoothed Kittens are thrillseekers. Long dead, they have nothing to lose, living for high risk and delicious reward.
Solar Soldier Alignment: Fire Weakness: Wind Some cats guard tombs. Others, children of that ancient lioness-deity of the desert sun, train on the scorching sands. This cat is jubilant on the inside, watchful and reserved on the outside. Though attuned to blazing fire, they know every weapon has a greater purpose. Meteor Phalanx automatically defends, surrounding the soldier and their allies with circling flames that morph or flare at the user¡¯s command. For every dusk, there is a dawn, heralded by the flames of the Solar Soldier¡¯s pride.
As I rolled off Reed¡¯s lap and splatted onto the sand, I remembered the biggest things that stuck out to me here. One: I had used lightning and loved it. Two: I had just done frantic boost-stacking and loved it. Three: the System had tried and failed to get me to love guard-centric Evolutions. I hadn¡¯t become a Cream Persian and I¡¯d given no chance to the Fawn Paladin, amazing as that name was. This time, though¡­it was a little tempting. As it turns out, if you want to make guarding cool, you make it aggro. The fact that this was an elemental trio¡ªthree flavors that meshed so well together¡ªmade the choice ache all the more. I just wanted to be all three of these at once! I¡¯d rather have lightning, ice, and fire in equal measure! Okay, I thought, minimizing the window, but Reed already has fire covered, and Bayce has¡­um¡­she mostly has ice, I guess? Though she kind of used a flamethrower last time. Just choose Spark Panther! I lay there in silence. Just choose it, you coward!! I couldn¡¯t get it over with. Ugh, I said to my own darn self. Have it your way! Keep debating. I let the options hover in my mind as I took an early stroll along the coast. Oh, hey, a couple of brittle stars had washed up here, and there were orange-cream-colored shells newly nestled in the damper sand. Hey, if I used Piercing Sabers, would it stack with my sword? ¡­Okay, I couldn¡¯t focus on the beauties of the world, nor could I focus¡ªeven now¡ªon deciding which Future Me to become. I needed something more powerful to distract myself, something like¡­ Training with Chora! She was the silhouette out in the water. I turned, expecting to see her standing in the very deepest shallows now. Instead, I panicked. She was gone! A wave came crashing up¡­wait, no, that was only Chora¡¯s kicking feet using martial artistry to kick up a tide as she paddled through the water. Man, she wasn¡¯t in danger at all. She sure had me fooled. I decided to paddle over and join her. Today was not the day to shun water. It could well become the day I embraced water, shivered mightily, then shunned it anew, and this time never to return. You just don¡¯t know until you try! The moment I stepped in, a great fwoosh and an overpowering wave knocked me over. Saltwater entered my ears, my mouth, my pores¡ª I lunged out, flopping like a fish. A fish preserved in disgusting salt! Ew, and how was there so much kelp in that one wave?! After rattling myself around, shaking and plucking off the strands, I turned behind me, to the campsite. Alongside the tents, there were a few pool apparati that yesterday Bayce had tried, in vain, to operate while drowsy and low on Health. There were a few knotted, slightly flattened pool noodles and a perfectly preserved flame-print boogieboard. Perfect! I changed into nekomata form and snagged the board. The swimsuit wasn¡¯t in my Inventory, nor on my body, so that part would have to wait. I just kind of stripped off my shirt and went to town. Then I nudged the board into the water, squared up, and jumped. As I belly-flopped onto the water and kicked out into this miniature sea, the wonder of the place started to settle in. In some ways, it was like we¡¯d washed up on a desert island. Surrounded by no humans but ourselves, with no supplies other than the remains in our mangled car and the random pocket lint in the hammerspaces behind our backs, we knew to relax now and save our worries for the next hour. Or the next one. And the sun on my face, though already as hot as it could ever be, was extremely refreshing after hard-won fights and, yes, a dunk in the water. Sunlight was starlight when the pit-filled, seaweed-dotted ground beneath us looked so much like a distant planet. The little ocean was teeming with life, churning with foes ready to kick Chora in the face and vice-versa. Swimming with the boogieboard in my less familiar body was surprisingly intuitive. The thing bobbed frighteningly under my weight at first¡ªand with the occasional shaking tides, I sometimes had to hug it, save it from getting washed away. All in all, though, it was a trusty companion. I didn¡¯t have a single moment of panic. Was any of this the coordination cantrip? Anyway, water was conquered. For now. I got closer to Chora¡¯s improvised swim route and simply watched her go at it for a while. Back and forth, back and forth, briskly in a line. A wobbly line, shifting in the current¡ªapparently, even a disciplined human couldn¡¯t fight that¡ªbut still remarkably still. Once the sun had actually risen, from the corner of my eye I saw her stop, gulp in a deep breath, and hover there in the water. Two minutes later, she bobbed over to me. ¡°Hey. Um¡­did you learn anything from that? Did you approve?¡± From anyone else, to anyone else, it would¡¯ve sounded sarcastic. I simply gave her a big smile and thumbs-up. Which wasn¡¯t just empty flattery! Soon I dipped eighty percent of my body in the water, one arm keeping me atop the boogieboard, and sighed in relief as the spirit board I¡¯d just de-Inventorized stayed afloat and water-resistant. Chora patiently waited as I took way too long to spell out a message on a constantly shifted board pointed away from her. She probably felt downright weirded out as I bobbed and weaved the whole way, struggling to read my own letters. "NEED TO EVOLVE CANT PICK FORM HELP" "...How much does it matter?" My eyebrows twitched. It super-mattered! Not only would this define my build for an untold amount of time¡ªand saddle me with Skills and Traits I would use for life¡ªit would also give me an all-new elemental advantage and change my hair color. But, unable to say all of this, I just looked on. Clearly Chora was about to say more. ¡°I mean¡­you¡¯ve been getting new powers all the time, and eve new weapons. If a form gives you powers you don¡¯t like¡­it seems to me like you can still customize yourself. T-to a certain extent. Not to be presumptuous.¡± Hm¡­ I nodded and gave her answer more thought. I, Taipha, was infinitely customizable. My most impactful power-up wasn¡¯t any part of my System¡¯s arsenal, but instead an accessory that I had built my other Equipment and tactics around. In other words, a foreign custom part aided by custom parts. And many of my greatest moves were just moves my mage friend cobbled together in, like, her mage backyard. Or maybe in that lab? How did I still not know?! I knew it was ridiculous to worry this much. I knew it. But there was just something about the powers that I ¡°came with,¡± something that put them closer to my heart. The pleasure of a Leap or a Slash pretty much beat all the rest. If I used Meteor Phalanx, could I find a way to jump on the meteors? And launch myself further out? And use it again? And Leap even further? And use it again? And use Attract, which would bring the meteors with me? Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡­Could I cross the Map in five seconds? I must¡¯ve been asking myself the question, ¡°Which of these forms would be the most delightful?¡± And, yeah, okay, maybe they were all equally delightful. But how would that solve anything?! I stewed on these things as Chora swam back and forth, in her wobbly line, and I did my best to join her. We washed up onshore again around the same time, maybe half an hour later. Chora seemed to glide effortlessly from crawling-swimming position to a walk, evolution-of-man style. Meanwhile, I beached myself. Not because the swim had even been that tiring (at least, provided one had a boogieboard), but because in the home stretch, at last a fresh wave had rocked the board out from under me. It hurt more than you would think. Luckily, it was back in my Inventory, not lost to the tides. Then I looked further ashore, where everyone was awake¡­and getting up to some shenanigans. Specifically, making sandcastles?! Reed, Bayce, and Heidschi were all hard at work sculpting sand monstrosities. Buckets and seashells littered the sands around them. Beside each one were plates of¡­snf¡­was that the rest of the banana-smelling bread from a few nights ago? Oh, those fiends. They would lure me back with the first sweet food I definitively liked. I salivated, but Chora chomped. She stood beside me in shorts and what looked hardly different from her typical sports bra, holding a strip of jerky clenched in her fist. ¡°WOAH,¡± I spelled. ¡°IS THAT WHAT U ALWAYS EAT DURING BFAST?¡± Chora looked taken aback by the question. Then she shrugged. ¡°Sometimes. Why?¡± ¡°I DUNNO¡­I GUESS ALL ALONG I THOUGHT U WERE A MASTER OF STARVING¡± Fun castles and appealing bread¡­this was shaping up to be a good day already. I changed into cat form to speed ahead of Chora. As a nekomata, I was faster than even an athletic human¡ªbut as a cat, I felt I had even more of an edge. Still, I would need a human guise if sandcastles were to be my next challenge. Hand-eye coordination and opposable thumbs would not be for nothing. I approached Heidschi with a courteous ¡°meow.¡± They startled so that that the cantrip glasses were nearly flung from their face. Whoops, sorry. ¡°H-hi,¡± they said, more softly than usual. ¡°You¡­want to help?¡± I gazed at the sandcastle. In most respects, it looked ordinary: sandy squares for the base, cylinder towers on the sides clearly made with the help of the bucket. I''d come over in the middle of Heidschi scraping off lines of sand from the towers to make swirling, barber-pole decals. Also, right above the portcullis-in-progress was a sheep head. How that hadn''t collapsed under force of gravity yet, I could only attribute to spellcraft. Lucky for Heidschi, we lived in a world of magic and mischief, so that was within the sandcastle-building rules. Maybe. I glanced sidelong at Bayce. She wasn¡¯t building right next to Heidschi, but y¡¯know¡­she did cheat during our fishing competition long long ago. Was she a bad influence? Or were the two of them¡­as bad as each other? All I could do was internally shake my head. I was gonna make my own, honest castle, and it was gonna be the best! With no cheating whatsoever!! But first, I had my big important Evolution question to ask. Assuming Heidschi would even understand it without the big spiel I¡¯d given to the others. ¡°UM SO¡­SORRY TO INTERRUPT AND STARTLE¡­BUT¡­QUESTION¡± The shepherd smiled. ¡°Go ahead,¡± they said, finishing up a tower. ¡°UM¡­I EVOLVE INTO COOL NEW FORMS¡± ¡°Woah.¡± ¡°BUT ITS HARD TO DECIDE WHICH IS COOLEST AND BEST. ONCE I CHOOSE ONE I CANT GO BACK!¡± Then I briefly described each one: the fire form that protected its allies, the ice form that sent its Attack into the stratosphere, the lightning form that, um¡­ensured cell death? ¡°Is there nothing that gives you status effects or boosts?¡± I put a paw to my chin. ¡°BESIDES THE ATTACK BOOST, MAYBE ELEMENTAL EFFECTS? FIRE BURNS, LIGHTNING STUNS, ICE FREEZES. YKNOW¡± ¡°Mmhm, mmhm. Really, I was thinking about your reservoirs. Like your health and magic power.¡± ¡°OH! SP¡± Heidschi looked around. ¡°Sipping what?¡± ¡°NEVER MIND I FORGOT HUMANS HAVE NO STAT NUMBERS¡± I fled in embarrassment. Augh, it sucked so bad that I never seemed to get a reliable SP recharge! Was my only option really bedrest¡ªnot even a Catnap, but a full, crappy, human-length block of hours and hours?! Five steps later, I nearly trampled Reed¡¯s castle. Ack! And it was a good thing I didn¡¯t! Firstly because Reed would cry. Secondly because it was tiny and would¡¯ve all been crushed in one fell swoop. Thirdly because it was bumpy and sharp all over! She had packed it to the gills with conch-shell spires and pieces of shining sea glass for makeshift windows. She smiled brightly at me. ¡°I noticed you exercising out there with Chora. You were really going at it!¡± ¡°Meow!¡± I said. ¡°MORNING EXERCISE IS SURPRISINGLY FUN¡± ¡°Too much activity too early just makes me tired again,¡± she said with a laugh. ¡°Oh¡ªhere, have this!¡± She reached over and handed me the crown jewel at the top of her tiny kingdom: a pearl?! It was hardly bigger than a grain of sand, but yes, it was genuine. And when I held it up cloes to my eye, I saw a gleam of luminescent pink. Nervously, I looked back at her. This pearl was amazing, but...why was she giving this to me? In other words, ¡°Meow?¡± My nervousness made her nervous. ¡°J-just because.¡± Suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder. Unless Reed now had arms five feet long, that had to be... Chora! Standing just behind me, she closed in and whispered, ¡°If you keep questioning why people give you things, they may never give you things again.¡± With those ominous words, she walked about twenty paces away and plunked down on a sand lump, preparing to make her own castle. Hm¡­I did trust a humans¡¯ understanding of human psychology above my own. Besides, it occurred to me now that to cast any confusion or doubt on why Reed was doing this would be, in some ways, to cast doubt on our friendship. Keep asking why two people are together every five minutes, I figured now, and they just get neurotic. So I closed my fist tight around the pearl, feelings its cool, and put it in my pocket. Wow¡­pockets. Proof that the System¡¯s Inventory was expandable in the most innovative ways. ¡°THANK YOU,¡± I said¡ªreminding myself to treat her sometime in the future. And/or present her with not one, but two legendary topazes. Except¡­wait¡­that might just summon more evil plants again. Was that how it worked? Well, for now, I asked my question¡­ ¡°Which form? Well, do you have a gut leaning? Maybe for an element?¡± I nodded¡­but then I shook my head. Spark Panther had the attribute I was most excited about, but a weakness to my dark-horse attribute. Lightning and earth. Couldn¡¯t they just live in peace? It also hurt my heart, quite frankly, that Solar Soldier wasn¡¯t, like, Rock Soldier. Why was it that burning awesome flames stirred my heart far less than flying pebbles? Probably because Reed already favored fire, and used it impeccably. Also maybe because Leaping off a Phalanx Meteor would hurt less if that meteor was not flaming. And worse, if I set Solar Soldier aside, I started to have doubts about lightning¡¯s coolness! What could possibly be cooler than ice?! Besides, if you freeze something, you, relatively, are moving at light speed. It¡¯s science. It just makes sense. An ice bolt was objectively better than a lightning bolt. It wouldn¡¯t be electric, but any bolt is pretty fast. If the Sabretoothed Kitten got any long-range options, it could be a force to behold. I spilled thoughts out basically as I had them, resulting in a mush of word fragments. ¡°FIRE IS OK¡ªNO¡ªLIGHTNGIN BEST¡ªICE BOLT¡ªFRZE¡ª¡± ¡°U-uh¡­now it¡¯s getting confusing,¡± Reed said with a wobbly, overwhelmed smile. I had to get out of here! Going a few steps to the side, I came across Reed¡¯s castle. Or, rather, Bayce¡¯s battlement. Or Bayce¡¯s fortress. ¡­Briefly I eyed Chora¡¯s construction. She was not making a catapult to destroy Bayce. That was good, because it meant I could. Anyway, clearly the witch had big plans. She was surrounded on all four sides by half-meter walls topped with spikes, with gates on two ends. Starfish, sand dollars, and other random sea debris that didn¡¯t quite mesh together lined the outside, forming an additional fence of defense. And on the inside, she was shaping clumps of sand into little buildings and even people. The people were glorified hot dogs. They kept falling over. ¡°What can I do for you?¡± she chirped as I peered over the wall. And I told her my story. ¡°And you don¡¯t know if you¡¯re getting any support Skills?¡± ¡°Maow.¡± ¡°Then you have to go aggro,¡± she said, hands hard at work patting a cube into shape. ¡°Full aggro.¡± ¡°¡­Meow?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve seen you! The way you fight! It¡¯s just full speed ahead. Slice first and ask questions later. Stealth just doesn¡¯t seem important to you. And honestly, I don¡¯t even get what a Subseizure is.¡± ¡°WELL IT SAYS¡ª¡± ¡°Oh no, that won¡¯t help. I remember what it said. But, I mean, is ¡®burning nerve endings¡¯ seriously a tactic you ever fantasized about?¡± ¡°NO BUT I COULD. THATS THE PROBLEM!!!¡± Bayce huffed. ¡°Look, just now you told me that your modus operandi was basically to ¡®be more of who you are¡¯ with each Evolution. Sabretoothed Kitten is more of what you like!¡± ¡°BUT ITS ICE. YOURE ICE!¡± ¡°I was ice one time! Mostly I¡¯m gravity and being five inches taller!¡± ¡°WAIT¡­UR SAYING UR NORMALLY FIVE INCHES SHORTER?¡± ¡°Well, yeah,¡± she said like it was the most obvious thing in the known world. ¡°We don¡¯t just have platform shoes, Taipha. We have body mod cantrips.¡± She glanced away and quirked her lips. ¡°Wanna be five inches taller?¡± Not particularly. Plus, what would that even do to my cat form? Would my limbs each get five whole inches longer? Would my midsection stretch out? Either I was overthinking it or it was horrifying to consider. Much like the period when I thought a nekomata Morph meant I could have human hands on a cat body. Eugh¡­ ¡°LETS TALK ABOUT THAT LATER. OR NEVER. I LIKE ICE BUT¡­I FEEL I AM NOT ICE. IS THIS TOO¡­UM¡­THEORETICAL FOR U? BORING?¡± ¡°No! And don¡¯t you say that. I love theories. Reed and Chora are the practical ones!¡± Then she looked off into the distance, hands solidly in her lap, thinking, thinking¡­or maybe dozing off, by the glaziness in her eyes. Just when I was about to meow her back to life, she snapped out of it. Perhaps that was her digging into her Wisdom. I hoped that when I went into a trance, I didn¡¯t look half as lost. Still, I was truly thankful for it, and I hoped some weirder thinking might get me out of this rut¡­ Bayce leaned toward me. ¡°I¡¯ve figured it out. First of all, set Solar Soldier aside. Kill it. You don¡¯t want it.¡± ¡°Meow,¡± I said without hesitation. ¡°Don¡¯t think of it as choosing between lightning and ice, or a stealth manipulator and a glass cannon. Think of it as choosing mystery. Spark Panther presents more mystery. Sabretoothed Kitten presents less. The latter looks pretty straightforward. The former looks unpredictable.¡± ¡­Wow. Wow! That was a context I hadn¡¯t known I needed. I couldn¡¯t believe how much clarity she¡¯d thrown on the situation. ¡°THX SO MUCH BAYCE!!!!!¡± I said, practically spearing through the exclamation mark on my soggy spirit board. ¡°You¡¯re wel¡ª¡± But I had already sped away, more than ready to dissolve the minimized box in the corner of my vision. ¡°Wait! Waaait!¡± Bayce howled. ¡°You have to make your castle!¡± Oh, fine. The Evolution would be there for me as soon as I needed it. For now, I¡ªlike everyone else¡ªhad one job. I had to relax. Also, I had to make the best sandcastle and shove it in everyone¡¯s faces! That counts as relaxation if you¡¯re competitive enough. Now, with my advanced strategic mind, it was clear to see that everyone else had a huge time advantage. Even Chora over there had made a sizable¡­um¡­sand crate. I would need some way to stand out if I ever hoped to win. So, using the buckets provided, I carried over seawater, kelp, and rocks from just underneat the coastal froth. All this would help me solidify the sand and give me firmer foundations. The rocks went inside of my fundamental sand blocks. Water and kelp further solidified my sand into cement. Hey, as long as it came from the beach and most of the outside was sand, this wasn¡¯t cheating¡­I mean, if Reed could use seashells and Reed was the salt of the earth, then¡­then take that! Moving on¡ªand willfully ignoring all rules, if such things even existed¡ªI continued my clever design. By artfully placing kelp along the edges of a trench and filling the result with water, I had a moat. Next came the pyramid-castle itself, a fancy bridge, and the real showstopper: a catapult to metaphorically destroy everyone else¡¯s defenses¡­ The bridge crumbled beneath my fingertips. Moments later, the damp hot dog that was supposed to become my catapult cracked and split into clumpy watery sand-rocks. Looking down to my moat, I learned that all the water had either spontaneously evaporated or seeped through the cracks in the kelp. At least I still had the pyramid. It did have rocks in it, but nobody had to know. Moments later, Bayce announced that it was almost time for ¡°the ritualistic destruction of all our hard work.¡± Oh¡­it was never a compete¡ªoh¡­okay. Happily, though, it raised my spirits some when Bayce started with a walkthrough of everyone¡¯s castles. Our work would still be appreciated! Seeing her give each structure a positive note helped me see them in a new light. ¡°Heidschi, your detail work on the sheep head and the pillars is impeccable, but alas I am legally barred from openly showing it preferential treatment. We''re all impartial here.¡± Heidschi, standing beside the creation, bowed respectfully. ¡°I understand.¡± ¡°Reed¡­¡± Bayce kneeled, at a dramatically, drastically slow speed, beside the castle. ¡°This is microscopic, you know that?¡± ¡°Yes, I¡¯m aware!¡± she said with great earnestness. ¡°But it¡¯s like a treasure chest! Honestly, I¡¯m ashamed we have to tear it down! ¡­But not as shamed as I am about my own castle,¡± she said as she took a step further down the line. ¡°I mean, wow, there¡¯s entire people in this one!¡± Who are all bisected or decapitated, I wanted to add. ¡°Chora,¡± Bayce continued, ¡°the symmetry and power of your design is itself a testament to the power of architecture.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a box,¡± Chora said, ¡°but thank you.¡± She was right. ¡°I get it,¡± Chora added. ¡°Your job is hard.¡± Bayce shook her hand, looking like a newscaster who¡¯d been bested in combat. Then she came to the last kingdom. ¡°And last but not least, we have Taipha¡¯s castle, which closely resembles that famous wonder of the world: the Triangle of Liza. I¡¯m impressed you knew about that! You didn¡¯t even go to Vencia school or anything!¡± Uh¡ªno comment. Reed and Bayce snapped a few quick pictures, including group shots, all of us standing with arms across our shoulders. Then we all became cinematic monsters and rampaged through the creations, kicking and, in my castle¡¯s case, rugby-charging through. We had immediately afterward, I dashed to the oceanic lake to wash off my feet¡­sand should never go that deep. 144. Flutter By We ate a light, simple, half-crushed lunch, and I felt immersed in the hum of chatter. People¡¯s eyes drifted toward the weather and wildlife. Reed wondered if the animal population here¡ªwhich had just lost a fraction of its members to a sudden huge gaping maw, plus lots of magic fire earlier¡ªwould recover anytime soon. And while they were relieved that so many had escaped back to Outlast, the idea of a huge dungeon hiding even greater threats hung over us like a ghost. But, also like a ghost, it seemed to flit away. The call of the water and the promise that we had done reasonably good was tempting us. I held off on Evolving. Everyone changed who hadn¡¯t already. Most did so in magical clouds of de-Inventorized modesty. ¡°HOW DOES EVERYONE DO THAT?!?!?¡± I cried, swatting my hand with all the flustered bluster of a clueless four-year-old. They made it look so easy! Bayce could not answer. She was too busy post-transformationally posing in a suit that was two-piece in name only. The navy suit exposed a huge lozenge on her stomach and back, and the, uh, lines were really high. You know, the V-lines. That was the best word I could come up with, much like how my best word for the round chest things was ¡°rib softs.¡± After like ten seconds of showboating and windmill-type dancing, Bayce did answer. ¡°It takes a lot of practice. I recommend you just climb over a sand dune and hope we don¡¯t come running.¡± ¡°Bayce!¡± Reed barked, with a hint of real anger. ¡°Nobody is doing that! No privacy-infringing perversion please!¡± ¡°Okay, too far!¡± Bayce held up guilty hands. ¡°Just climb in a tent and¡­wait, Reed, why would you own a plaid swimsuit!¡± ¡°I like plaid,¡± she said, frowning and crossing her arms. ¡°Plaid is good for all occasions.¡± ¡°Nobody says that.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a trendsetter. Besides,¡± she said with a bit of a spin, ¡°what about this color?¡± Black lines over blue¡ªmuch more vibrant than Bayce¡¯s. ¡°SO COOL,¡± I tapped out. ¡°BAYCES OUTFIT IS TOO BLAND¡± ¡°What part of my stomach-hole is bland?!¡± Meanwhile, Heidschi and Chora were strutting by towards the water, Chora still in her sporty gear and Heidschi in that lacy bikini that, I have to say, was truly small. Seeing them pass was a great reminder of the reason we were all here dressing skimpily: to feel water on our human legs and/or midriffs. Suddenly I was desperate to impress. Impress who? Unsure. Maybe just myself! I scampered off for the tents. With a jolt of surprise, I noticed the one I¡¯d just skidded into like a baseball player racing for home was five times bigger on the inside. Also, there was exercise equipment scattered about¡ªwhat, Chora, did wads of kelp not make for good weights? that fitness fiend¡ªso that I nearly slipped on a dumbbell. Quickly, not wanting to infringe on a friend¡¯s privacy more than I had to, I donned my sarong. Tying it around my neck, patting hands down my back and front, I did my best to look tidy without a mirror. Then I looked down, watching the sunset cast rain down my form. I did my own spin, spinning long, holding my arms out wide. A ballerina I was not, but a fiery red really suited my wild moves. Sigh¡­goodbye, Solar Soldier. I put my game face on (a ridiculous smile) and darted out the tent. My running was dancing, and I fluttered around Reed and Bayce a second before looping past and flinging myself into the surf. This time without a boogieboard! I spat out a mouthful of instant kelp and kept my eyes open despite the salty sting. A warrior, I swam straight out, driven by a sudden mania to go out as far as I could, see how much swimming I could swim before my breathing grew shallow. The sun beat down on hypnotizing waves. I caught myself before I truly lost myself to sheer movement and energy. Shifting from a swim to churning my arms and legs, I marveled at how naturally it came to me. I didn¡¯t trust my natural Intelligence and Wisdom enough to do that on their own¡ªI would blame it on the hand-eye cantrip. All the people near the shore were mere specks now. Specks tossing a ball back and forth. Specks bobbing and playing and waving smaller specks and lines. They had called out to me when I¡¯d started swimming away, but they trusted me not to be dead. Had I overdone it? ¡­No, it hadn¡¯t been that long. Just a few minutes. I was getting better at holding myself back. Over my shoulder was the other shore of the tiny lake. A shore I couldn¡¯t see. Instead of going that last stretch, I decided to simply play, on my own, in the water. I tried random things I had never thought of before, much less in a human shape. I balled myself up to see if I could float without panic, I did a terrible take on the butterfly stroke, I got on my back and looked at the sun. And while I stared, questions about the future seemed to surround me like a dim cloud. I was interrupted by a splash of water. An attack?! I whirled upright and looked around. Nothing. I dunked my head in the water. Here it was cloudy and dark, even for me. Fish, dim and distant, had been actively leaving me me this whole time. The most horrendous thing about this water was that because it stung my eyes, it made me want to rub my eyes. But my eyes, they also had water on them! And if things were really dire, they¡¯d be salty and gritty, which had resulted in three separate occasions of me giving myself sobby sandy eyes. But I was determined to endure these minor pains, to stop griping about my own challenges. Instead, I refocused. I paddled myself upright and peeled my red eyes open. The Sapphire Queen was standing on the water right in front of me, with krigries lifting the train of her dress. Her features were lightly obscured, I realized now, by a shimmering mist. My reaction to this was a much duller surprise. She¡¯s back to wearing glittering gowns, I guess. For a nonhuman, she is so dramatic. Or is that gown her designated swimwear? If I asked¡­would she even understand the question? Wait, where¡¯d she even get this stuff? From that one person she killed? Or were there more, who all wore her size? Did she¡­buy it?! I squinted. I can¡¯t even ask her important things. I¡¯d drown! ¡°MEOW,¡± I told her, meaning, Get me a boogieboard now.
I don¡¯t exactly want you to talk back. Sorry I¡¯m just really excited I have to get this out
¡°M-maow!¡± I said, meaning¡ªroughly¡ªUgh!
Okay, so, I think you did it on accident, but you revealed so much about the dungeon yesterday. And suddenly I want to thank you. I am seriously overflowing with new info and you need to know it all.
I was not convinced this was the place or ti¡ª
Pooh pooh, Taipha. You¡¯re floating just fine
Oh no, she really could read minds?!
Reading expressions is surprisingly easy, with some people
¡­No, she was just socially acclimating. Shoot.
Can your System write things down?
Well, it could, but right now I didn¡¯t want to devote the mental energy or Map space to¡ª
You will want to write things down.
I rolled my eyes. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. As it turned out, that was like asking the proverbial centipede not only how it walked, but also to write down detailed instructions while walking. Obediently I started a fresh System document and started mentally scribbling. That made my arms spasm out of control. Immediately I sank. A second sploosh followed me into the water and dragged me back up. Suddenly Logy was in front of me, gripping my shoulders. By the looks of the fabric now covering her arms, she was in a full-body wetsuit. My forehead burned. Again, where did she get that?!
So there¡¯s a few different entrances to the dungeon, one of them being the one you just uncovered by killing all those plants and especially that big flytrap There¡¯s also one in the northwest by the pit formerly known as the Pit of the Corrupting Sword and the one in the southwest nestled in the Kaugs Average power levels appear to be BY FAR lowest in the one here. That is amazing news. It means we have a good on-ramp and you may even be able to train against the weakest dungeon monsters. Are you getting this?
I nodded begrudgingly, then realized I should¡¯ve paused first just to not get a deluge of new info right afterward.
Okay, the dungeon itself Dungeons have rules. These rules can be bent but I¡¯ll get back to you on that You can go in with a maximum of four people at a time, so I was thinking we would just take you and me and two of your friends servants people and have one alternate. But now I see you have more options and that they might cooperate. And some of their powers are very interesting The more cooperative alternates we have, the better our chances, as long as they don¡¯t mind high risk of death
Wait, what? ¡°Cooperative alternate¡±? And, wait, who wouldn¡¯t mind high risk of death?! Oh no, Logy¡­you can¡¯t just eagerly send people to their doom. Not unless they¡¯re me, sadly¡­
Get everyone¡¯s strategies and record them so I can do some analysis. Figure out what parties are best and whose powerset is best for which type of enemy. It is of the utmost importance, so stop rolling your eyes, because yes I do know what that means Do you have any questions. Question mark.
With my most furious grimace, I summoned the spirit board. It splashed into the water, dipped underneath Logy¡¯s right arm, and bobbed away.
¡­Okay my krigries can get that
I sighed. Pretty much everything she mentioned sounded like research that she should be doing. This was her mission, after all. All I wanted to offer was a strong arm. As the buzz of krigries reentered the periphery, I broke away from Logy and started swimming to shore. She swam after me, knifing through the water. My forward glances during the swim were interesting. First I saw specks, all contentedly playing. Then I saw hotdog-sized figures turning our way. Relief, pleasure. Then disgust, horror. And a new pleasure that was obviously papering over that horror. Only one face refused to hide its displeasure. As we hit the shore, Chora came after us with a shocking vengeance. Then she did something that sent a pang of fear through me¡ªshe grabbed Logy by the wrist, spun her around, and tapped hard on her chest. With one of my folded-up spirit papers. ¡°I¡¯m sick of seeing my friends tolerate you,¡± she said. ¡°Talk to all of us or don¡¯t talk at all.¡± Silence. Slowly I held one arm between Logy and Chora. I didn¡¯t have to, because Logy didn¡¯t make any moves. Instead, she took the page gingerly in her hands¡ªshe had to, with how damp it was and we were¡ªand sat down crisscrossed on the hand. She began to spell out words, and Chora watched intently. The rest of us gathered one by one, simply watching her say what, to me, she had already said. I took a soul-deep sigh of relief. Minutes, then an hour passed. Bayce wandered away again, then Heidschi. Chora was taking all the notes Logy had wanted me to take, with a serious interest that I sensed the lepidot appreciated. I wanted to apologize for the turn this beach party had taken, but¡­it wasn¡¯t on me to apologize, it was on her. Plus, we had gotten off to a bleak start, with that mass destruction yesterday and all. A second hour later, Chora gave a final nod, then Reed. Logy bowed her head on her own time, several seconds after. She was giving me the vibes of a movie character, a certain dark invader, not an automaton yet always willfully inhuman. As Chora disappeared to her tent, Reed set a hand on my shoulder. ¡°Thank you for letting us in.¡± My head flailed back and forth! ¡°WHAT??? I WISH THE EXACT OPPOSITE! U SHOULDNT HAV TO!¡± ¡°But I¡¯m starting to want to!¡± She bit her lip. ¡°I do love these woods. And I¡¯ll¡­I¡¯ll chase you and fight to get on your level. I want to do just as much.¡± She attempted a smile. ¡°So don¡¯t hesitate¡­if you know ways I can do better.¡± I gave her a soft chop on her own shoulder. ¡°MAKE WEAPONS. BE MORE YOU! AND, UM, UNCOVER UR MYSTERIES. ALSO JUST BE CONFIDENT¡± ¡°Ha, thank you¡­it¡¯s easier said than done, for me.¡± She began flexing her guns. ¡°I am confident! I am¡­um¡­me!¡± A laugh bubbled out of me. I wanted to rope her into a hug, run back with her to the water where Bayce and Heidschi played, but I felt something unresolved with Logy. So I kinda¡­brushed her cheek with my knuckle, not knowing quite what I was doing. She locked eyes with me. ¡°U GO BACK. ILL TAKE TO LOGY SOME¡± ¡°Take care,¡± she murmured. ¡°THX. I MIGHT NEED IT¡± As she left, I turned to Logy, who hadn¡¯t moved from her seat in the sand. Ever deadly serious. I stood over her and cocked my head. ¡°DO U HAVE A VOICE?¡±
HA. Ha. No. Thought you knew that
She pointed to her weirdly mouthless face. It was as mouthless as the mask of that dark invader. I wondered: if she got splashed in the face and water got into her extremely small facehole, would she¡­cry it out? I physically cringed at the thought. ¡°HAVE U EVER WANTED A VOICE?¡±
Philosophical question?
¡°JUST QUESTION¡±
I have never had to think about it. Everything and everyone I would want to communicate with shares the same condition None of us have a voice. We use written words, a power I have had since I appeared in this world. And words are the voice of the System. We are linked via the System, and the System is my second life itself
This stirred something in me, but I couldn¡¯t tell what¡­ I felt moved, like I could relate. The System was an odd artificial heart, putting us in touch with the best thing since deities. Still, the answer didn¡¯t satisfy me. It was probably wrong to pity Logy for not being able to communicate well with my friends¡ªwhat am I saying, it was totally wrong, she both didn¡¯t want to be friends with them and was a jerk¡ªbut¡­I pitied the fact that she had never considered it. Had it actually been a choice for me to become my cabinmates¡¯ friend? My Arkmagus had pressured me into it, but I could have stayed a lone wolf and toughed it out. What I hadn¡¯t needed to pursue were eyes that could read. Speech. Logy did have krigries to provide her with company, but considering how dronelike they acted around her, they probably doubled as the reason why she kept taking my friends for servants¡­ ¡°BUT I LOVE THE IDEA OF CHATTING WITH OTHERS. JUST ASKING AND LEARNING STUFF.¡± I gave her a pointed look. ¡°DONT U LIKE THAT?¡± Logy stared off elsewhere, at the waves.
I find myself filtering out most information. Tunnel vision is what keeps me relaxed. And motivated.
I put on a grin. ¡°U AT LEAST LIKE TALKING TO ME?¡±
It¡¯s a fun challenge
I squinted. ¡°UM THANKS¡±
Um you¡¯re welcome.
¡°WELL¡­LET ME UPDATE U ON MY PLANS. I THINK IM GOING ON A BIG TRIP AROUND THE FOREST. BASICALLY TRAINING A BUNCH WHILE I GET MORE CANTRIP INGREDIENTS. HOPEFULLY FUN! LIKE EXTENDED CAMPING¡±
You¡¯ve really turned so human that you think of survival as ¡°extended camping¡±?
I¡­felt weirdly attacked.
It¡¯s not you, though. It¡¯s your Arkmagus. I suppose cats and humans are more similar than butterflies and humans. Things rub off.
¡°OK LOGY,¡± I said with a sigh of fresh frustration. ¡°THAT¡¯S LIKE ALL I HAVE TO SAY TO YOU SO PLEASE LEAVE¡±
Fine, but what part of the Map are you exploring next?
¡°I DONT KNOW YET AND U CAN JUST FOLLOW ME ANYWAY!!!!!¡± I said, hammering the exclamation mark so hard it secreted fluid. Energetic pointing: a language we all understand. Without warning, Logy poofed into a butterfly and sailed over my head, over the lake, toward the very outermost reaches of the Vencian Wood. Logy reminded me of what I was doing this all for. Whether I wanted to know it or not, I was, literally, training to beat this strange underground foe. More importantly to me, I was training and exploring for these woods, and for myself. Maybe I did only want this next cantrip because I wanted to have fun with these shameful, dirty humans, but darnit, I was going to speak. Everyone was back in the water now. My friends were out there, and I needed only to follow. Throw apart the curtains, dive into the mystery. I took a breath, then drifted back.