Chapter 201: Breather

Chapter 201: Breather

Sitting cross-legged on the sand, Rain sighed deeply as he stared out at the hazy horizon. He was in his soul, gentle waves of essence lapping at his toes. Chaos churned up during the battle had polluted his artificial sky, but orange was slowly fading back to blue as order reasserted itself. It was calm. Peaceful. Like the day after a storm.

Outside, in the real world, that storm raged on, Temerity plowing its way through choppy waves as it fled for Barstone with all the speed its turbines could provide. One of the first things Rain had done after arriving was to check the boiler, finding it heated to the absolute limit. Any hotter would be risking a catastrophic failure despite the enchanted metal, so he’d simply topped Kettel and Ava up with mana and left them to it, child-labor laws be damned. He’d then done much the same for everyone on board, using both Winter and Essence Well, but with the range tightly controlled to keep the magic from escaping the confines of the hull. Ethereal Aura wasn’t fully leveled yet, but already it was showing its worth, allowing his spells to function at short range even at the very heart of the ship.

As the Adamants had fallen behind, the fear of Whales had eclipsed that of pursuit. Even Goldships didn’t travel at night. While they were in sight of shore—or would have been without the storm—they couldn’t go too close or risk smashing into something. The charts told of numerous rocky outcrops and islands peppering the coast near mountains that divided the DKE from the lands to the south. Fechton—Shu, Rain corrected himself—had charted them a course keeping them well clear of them. The Starguide couldn’t see the sky thanks to the clouds, but Ameliah was helping him by scouting with Airwalk. As a stamina-based skill, it had a relatively low chance of drawing anything unpleasant up from the depths to investigate.

The chance wasn’t zero, though. There was also the very real danger of Ameliah losing them in the storm. Rain had given her his perception accolade and ordered electric lights to be brought out on deck, but still.

He sighed again, looking down at his feet. He couldn’t do everything. Couldn’t fix every little problem and mitigate every risk. Ameliah had told him she had the navigation situation under control and that he needed to take a break.

She was right, of course, but he just couldn’t help worrying about her. About everything. Tallheart, for example. The smith had clearly pushed himself past exhaustion in holding the ship together, only to then strain himself further by healing Halgrave. Nobody else seemed to see it, what with how adept Tallheart was at hiding his fatigue, but Rain did.

And then there was the situation with Velika.

Now that was a powder keg ready to explode. The ex-Citizen seemed to have agreed to a truce of sorts with Halgrave, but the nearer they drew to the DKE, the more likely there’d be an issue. At some point, she would try to extract a promise of silence. If Halgrave didn’t agree to that, well...

Burying his face in his hands, Rain began massaging his temples in a vain attempt to relieve some of his tension.

Even supposing Halgrave agreed to keep the secret, he wasn’t the only one who’d need to remain silent. All of Ascension knew by now, and Rain wasn’t sure what would be the greater risk, relying on that silence, or trying to bypass Barstone entirely. The trouble was that Splendor was hardly any better. Without sailing through DKE waters, it was the only destination that wouldn’t necessitate crossing days of open ocean, merely a short stretch. Pirates and smugglers risked taking that route from time to time, but that didn’t make it safe. Bakal had ‘cut the corner’ a few times in his youth, or so he claimed, but one of those voyages had ended with the loss of his entire crew. And then, supposing they even survived the crossing, they’d just be stopped anyway, only by the Bank instead of the DKE, which was hardly an improvement.

What a mess.

Raising his head, Rain again looked out at the horizon. After all the rushing around, he’d found himself with a few minutes to think, so he’d wedged himself between a pair of twisted girders amidships and retreated in here. He was in his armor again, at least, so he wasn’t overly worried about being sneak-attacked. Of course, that also meant he had to contend with its interference with Prismatic Intent. If the Adamants attacked them again—still a possibility—things could get interesting.

He sighed. After the chaos of the battle, he hadn’t let himself stop until now. Stopping would have given him time to think. To process.

To come to terms with the deaths of those he’d promised to protect.

Mollo, who just earlier this week had made his first ring capable of holding an enchantment, then celebrated that success with such foul-mouthed exuberance that the Three Cliffs neighborhood watch had come running to help with the perceived crisis. Kip, who’d been with Rain since Fel Sadanis, since before Ascension. He’d joined for the promise of awakening. He hadn’t gotten it. Now he was dead. Now they were both dead.

It’s not my fault. They knew the risks.

Thinking the lies didn’t help. After a long silence, Rain sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

I should organize a memorial service or something. Glavin’s missing too, but that’s not surprising, given that he can teleport. Halgrave said he’s a coward, but I’m not so sure. Regardless, if Glavin got away, he’s not going to be able to find us at sea, let alone teleport onto a moving metal ship. Best case, we find him waiting for us in Barstone. Worst case, the Empire got him.

Rain groaned.

At least he has a chance. Not like anyone still in Three Cliffs...

Mayor Graymond.

Lellermen Green.

Gus...

We just...left...and the Empire’s going to...

Rain slammed a fist against the sand, as angry at himself as he was at the Empire. He hadn’t come in here to stew. Clamping down on his unhelpful thoughts, he pushed himself to his feet and turned, surveying what remained of his floating island.

It looked as if a hurricane had swept through, pulverizing his various experiments and scattering the shards across what little sand remained. His battle with the Incarn had placed their souls in direct conflict, and the shockwaves had reverberated all through his inner world, smashing and breaking. That wasn’t all, though. So much of his essence ocean had evaporated that his island’s underside was scraping his core’s armored shell. Some of it would have been converted to mana to fuel his spells, but not that much.

“Where did it all go?” Rain muttered to himself.

[⟬disorder⟭!] Dozer sent unhelpfully, apparently having heard him.

[I know, Dozer, I know.]

Rain sighed, then looked up to see the slime industriously oozing across the island like a gelatinous Roomba, collecting wooden splinters, chunks of metal, the torn pages of books, and whatever else. [Fixing this is going to take a while. Thanks for helping, buddy.]

[⟬filth⟭!]

Resignedly, Rain began walking through the wreckage, just wanting to be in motion. It was a lesson for the future, not to keep important things out in the open. Through extending his senses, he already knew that any enclosed spaces had fared much better, such as his core room below and the inner compartments of his pressurized station in orbit. The pipeline to his paling had miraculously survived, though it was cracked in several places, which hardly mattered given that the pumps were high and dry.

His paling was okay, at least. The strain gauges that speckled his over-engineered plug had shown high readings, but just within tolerance, which he supposed made it not over-engineered after all.

Coming to a stop beside Dozer, Rain watched as the slime struggled to free a splintered wooden object from beneath a fallen tree.

[Rain-King, what is?] Dozer sent. [Box?]

[That’s a birdhouse, Dozer,] Rain sent, bending down to look. [I made a little birdhouse in my soul.]

[???] the slime sent, confused, not that Rain had expected him to get the reference. [What bird?]

[There aren’t any birds here, Dozer. I just made it. Because of reasons.]

Dozer seemed to ignore him, his tone insistent. [What bird?]

[Don’t worry about it.] Rain straightened, massaging the bridge of his nose. [There is no bird.]

There was a long pause, Dozer quivering in the way he did when he was grappling with a particularly difficult concept. Finally, the slime spoke, sending each word carefully and slowly.

[What...does...bird...mean?]

[Oh,] Rain sent back, dropping his hand. [Sorry, I thought you were asking me— Sorry...and nice grammar. That was a full sentence.]

So intent was Dozer on the question that he didn’t react to the praise. [Rain-King! Focus!]

Despite his mood, Rain smiled at that. [A bird is an animal. You’ve heard them before. They sound like this.] Concentrating, he sent a few different snippets of birdsong in the slime’s mental direction, knowing that would work better than any attempt at a picture.

[Oh!!!] Dozer bounced excitedly. [Understand!!! Know bird!]

There was a pause.

[Birdhouse box-bed for bird?]

[Yes, exactly,] Rain said.

[...Where bird?]

Rain chuckled. [I don’t know, Dozer. Why don’t you look around while you clean? Let me know if you find one, okay?]

[Yes! Dozer ⟬clean⟭! Dozer find bird!]

[Love that energy. Happy hunting.]

Leaving the slime to his wild goose chase, Rain smiled for a few moments longer, then let himself slump down on a fallen tree trunk with a sigh. There was another thing he needed to think about, now that he had the chance: his clash against the Incarn.

He looked up at the sky, imagining he could see past the clouds as he began reviewing what he knew.

Soulspace. The Liminal Void, as the Majistraal called it.

Darn. Just missed level eight.

Rain waved the box away, wishing he could just dump mana into the spell to power-level it. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be a smart move. He was already low on essence, but more importantly, they were already playing with fire by sailing at night. A Whale attack would be disastrous.

I only needed it at level five anyway.

Rain opened the Aura Metamagic tree, scrolling to see a plus symbol next to Anchor Aura, indicating that it was available for him to take. He smiled wryly. That little button was the only thing between him and the ability—besides himself.

Part of him wanted to wait, to see his other options, but...

No.

He turned his eyes downward, his senses expanding as he peered straight through the armor surrounding his core.

I’ve suffered for my indecision enough.

He purchased the skill.

As always, the unlock was fast, even in his accelerated reference frame. Energy flickered through his core like lightning through quartz, stronger than it was for lower-tier skills. However, just as when he’d watched this process before, whatever the system was doing was far too complex and subtle for him to follow. When the light faded, his gemstone heart felt ever so slightly different, but not in a way he had a hope of understanding.

I’ll get there. One day.

Rain smiled, remembering the clean patterns of his auras as he’d used them in the battle. Without his armor mucking things up, his vision through Mana Manipulation had been clearer. He knew what his auras were supposed to look like now. With time, he had no doubt he’d achieve the same level of proficiency with his armor on as he’d shown without it. He’d have to, because there was no Dunch-tickling way he was EVER taking it off.

Lurching back to reality, Rain extricated himself from the girders, metal scraping against his shoulders as the ship’s engines vibrated the deck beneath his feet. A quick staccato burst from Detection assured him that all was well, but he looked around anyway, squinting through the water streaking his visor. Only once he was satisfied that nobody had come looking for him and nothing was on fire did he call up the description for his new skill.

Anchor Aura (1/15) Exp: 0/800

Allows for the creation, binding, and use of aura anchors

Aura anchors are attuned to a single aura at the time of creation

Aura anchors act as additional emission points, irrespective of distance

User may project any aura through 0-1 anchors simultaneously

Aura range is distributed across the user and any selected anchors

Anchor Creation Cost: 100 + 100^x

Anchor Creation Time: 1 hour

Anchor Durability: 100 + 100^x

Anchor Hardness: 27 (fcs)

x must be a whole number greater than or equal to the tier of the attuned aura

Aura use through an anchor damages the anchor

Anchor damage is proportional to the mana flux, mitigated by Hardness

He pushed his thoughts toward the spell, and guided by a reflex he’d never learned, his hands rose. They came together, one over the other in front of his chest like he was sheltering a tea light from the pounding rain. His mana, meanwhile, was flowing down his arms, pooling in his hands...as if waiting for something.

Oh.

Anchor Aura, Detection, Tier 1

Instantly, though it moved in the barest trickle, the pooled mana in his hands began to flow outward, giving Rain the answer to his first question. It seemed the mana cost was distributed across the cast time, not paid upfront.

Perfect.

Raising his hands before his eyes, he shifted them so he could peek inside, feeling the spell’s matrix tremble with the motion. It had already been shaky, encased in the metal prison of his fingers, but he managed to keep it together. There was a tiny pinprick of light between his palms, he saw, too small for him to assign it a color other than white. A faint mist was flowing out from his hands, drawn to that one spot as the skill worked.

Interesting.

A quick attempt to use Detection told him that, while the creation of the Detection anchor was consuming an entire Prismatic Intent slot, he could still cast the spell in the other one normally. Satisfied with that and not wanting to make himself woozy, he opened his hands. The tiny pinprick flickered before vanishing into nothingness. He’d done his best to maintain the matrix, but it appeared he was a long way off from forging anchors hands-free.

I’ll get there. People can do it with Fireball with enough practice, and this is no different. Also, it looks like I’ve got the answer to my follow-up question. You can cancel it mid-cast. That’s good.

Raising his hands again, he accessed his rings, shifting the five hundred points he’d had in Clarity to Focus. With the accolade he was using and the points he’d already had assigned, his Focus was now seven-seventy. Anchor Aura’s Focus scaling would translate that to seventy-seven Hardness for the final product.

Anchor Aura, Detection, Tier 2

The light was brighter this time, the mist now joined by static discharges arcing silently between his palms. Again, a point of light started growing, pulling itself together amidst the haze of wasted energy.

Mana cost is 100 + 100^2, so 10,100, divided by 3,600 seconds in an hour. 2.8 mana per second. Hardly worth mentioning. Hmm. Tallheart says crafting skills only give you the promised numbers if you do it right. Is all this interference going to affect the result? I suppose we’ll see, but first...

Rain counted to thirty, then broke the spell again. As he did, he heard a gasp and looked up to see someone looking in his direction, though he couldn’t see who it was through the weather. Fortunately, there was Detection for that.

Cessa? Oops. She must have Mana Sight. There’s no way she saw that tiny flash of regular light through the storm. I need to be careful with this. That wasn’t much mana just now, but if I lost a big one... I suppose I can’t blame her for being jumpy.

...

That’s it. We’re going to Barstone. Crossing any amount of deep water is a horrible idea, and it only gets worse if I can’t even use mana. Plus, I really should warn the Citizens. I owe it to the people in Three Cliffs, even if I know the DKE won’t lift a finger to help them. Damn it.

He looked down at his hands, balling them up into fists.

I need to be stronger, and that starts with this.

He triggered an essence exchange. Other than the line telling him he’d unlocked the skill, it was blank.

Hmm. So I only get experience on completion, or the ratio is really shit...

...or it’s like Prismatic Intent. Shit, I suppose we’ll see.

Anchor Aura, Detection, Tier 1

Rain settled his hands in front of his stomach, this time intent on holding them there for the full hour. The trickle of mana was basically nothing, and if the final product came out weak or flawed, it hardly mattered. It was just Detection. All he wanted was to keep track of Temerity and those onboard when they got to Barstone, and he didn’t need a ton of power for that. At the rate they were moving, they’d be there before the sun even reached its zenith—a fact few had realized and fewer still believed.

The world just got a whole lot smaller.

Rain’s smile lasted only a moment. They’d drop anchor—figuratively, as they didn’t have one anymore—outside the harbor. He and Ameliah would go in alone to meet the Citizen. Maybe Halgrave would want to come, maybe he’d want to stay with his daughter, or maybe he’d try to carry her away. Rain needed to talk to him about that. And about the Velika situation. At least nobody had figured out who Shu was yet.

Still sheltering his tiny light, Rain turned, then headed for the stairs.

Enough screwing around. Waiting won’t solve anything, so it’s time to poke the bear.

He looked down at his clasped hands and the tiny star growing inside.

One point left.