Chapter 1922

Chapter 1922

Gasping, Randidly returned to his body, still smoking at the edges and trailing searing colors that clung to him as he came back from the dark side of the moon. His feet managed two steps away from the portals, his shoulders and arms leaking orange and violet. Then he keeled sideways and flopped on the ground, surprised by how clammy and unresponsive his limbs had become. His vision spun, twisting his stomach and ringing out nausea.

His tongue felt like a rotting whale, simultaneously dehydrated and slimy.

Randidly rolled onto his back and looked up at the circle of pure blue sky that peeked through the Nether Storm above his island. Yet after only a few seconds, he had to squint and press his eyes shut to stifle the flashes of pain that cracked through his brain. Gradually, the sensation that someone had dumped his brain into a blender and flicked the switch to ‘frothy’ faded. A smile tugged at the corners of his troublesome mouth. “Certainly pushed it a bit far by plugging myself into the Nether Ritual for so long-”

His words ended in a wince. His overtaxed brain seemed to be bubbling, feeding him a confusing array of images and memories. A cold wind brushed across his skin, raising goosebumps. An ominous ticking thudded against his eardrums, the powerful reverberation from a clock the size of an entire planet. His awareness felt fuzzy. For a second Randidly began to levitate away from physical sensation; he was unbound by shape entirely. He had to press his right hand flat against the ground and squeeze his fingers together to ground himself.

A swirling purple/black hovered against the inside of his eyelids, leaking out like some sort of cursed tears.

Unwilling to take all these horrible exhaustion pains without some sort of response, Randidly stuck his tongue out toward the sky. Mental note that weird things happen when a mind powerful enough to create world-altering images gets a little weird when its starts to short circuit-

The color flashes and distortions in the air around him were growing stronger. It was like his mind attempted to project its subconscious images on the surrounding space as it did during most of his life. Yet now, without any mental potency remaining, it could only toss out scraps and misshapen pieces of those images before it sputtered and crashed. Each failed attempt to spread the image made some small alterations to the pieces, leading to more and more exaggerated failures.

A weird emerald stain started to creep across the ground near Randidly’s bare feet. The black tears were running down his cheeks.

Grimacing, Randidly sat up. The world whirled in glorious and drunken exultation at the move, forcing Randidly to press his eyes shut for several more long seconds as he tried to resist his body’s impulse to collapse. Eventually, he gathered enough of himself to suck in a shuddering gasp. The air helped a little bit and soon he felt grounded enough to breathe in another way.

Congratulations! Your Skill the World Tree Sips from Every Realm (T) has grown to Level 719!

Randidly pulled with his Skill, surprised at how much he needed in order to keep his functioning going for a few more minutes. The plant collective, the rapidly breeding colony of ants, and the individuals on the beach barely managed to quench his thirst for mental acuity. And he could feel several of the weaker individuals stagger and collapse, bearing a portion of his immense sense of being spent.

Obviously I have capabilities that are beyond what this group could accomplish, even working in tandem, Randidly mused. But that also means that the expenditure to keep my brain running without a hitch is staggering. The fact that acquiring fuel hasn’t been a problem is one of the great secrets to my existence. Hell, if I didn’t have access to my own Aether-

Well, my experience with the System would likely have been very different.

Still, for the moment all his supporters managed to delay his shuddering collapse into an unconscious pile of muscle and mental jelly. The fires had burnt low, but the coals were strong enough for him to continue. Which was enough for Randidly to square his shoulders and reach into his Nether Core for the connection he had discovered with this depressing child Randy.

He straightened and stretched, his joints complaining of the unaddressed sense of strain that pervaded every inch of him. Yet very quickly, he stilled and just looked at the weirdly stained emerald patch of ground with a sour expression on his face. His immediate impulse was to just go and rescue the kid from their situation, but Randidly also remembered that sense of powerlessness and being adrift. His shoulders rolled inward as his own memories provided some context to that experience.

“Nothing would bring me greater pleasure.” The small monkey gave a drumroll off its belly. Meanwhile, he could feel the monkey’s mind whirling. Perhaps due to its proximity to Randidly, it gathered significance to itself.

After shaking his head, Randidly continued to speak. “In addition... her capabilities are very special. Dangerous if used without thought, but fascinating if you consider some applications. I’d like for you to push the child to use their abilities in a certain way. We will be in constant contact, so if you have any questions, just reach out and I will assist you.”

“Nothing brings me more pleasure than having your voice in my head.” Then the monkey twisted his head, rotating his head almost 180 degrees, so his face as he looked at Randidly was upside down. “Besides, I am at the age where I must find my own place in the vines and create a nest. Only then will I be able to start bringing mates back and strike out on my own.”

Tragically, where you are going, there aren’t many vines. Randidly pulled out his Philosopher's Key and opened a portal, sending the small monkey through before it could have second thoughts. Then, alone on the volcano top, Randidly rolled his shoulders. Due to the very direct Nether and Aether connection he established between himself and the monkey, it was easy to follow its actions.

“Alright,” Randidly spoke to himself. Already his eyelids fluttered. “First, a break so I don’t feel like so much death. Then... back to the beginning of the training regimen. Hierarchy of Burden and then... hum... maybe slip in a time... to really focus on the Skill Levels for Yggdrasil...”

After a long yawn, Randidly fell asleep.

*****

In a massive underground canyon, a dozen dragon’s raised their long necks and sang. Their long vocal cords produced a strangely metallic chiming noise that would be impossible to recreate with a human body. The harmonies bounced off the stalagmites and complex curves of the stone walls and blended together into a haunting ballad.

Other dragons hunched close to some massive carved pillars that stood in the central portion of the area, squinting at the stone and using a single claw to mark records upon the stone. At this point, the area was about half full with these recording pillars. Near the entrance, a pile of hewn stone cylinders waited for their own turn to be erected. It was a living testament to their religion, constantly being updated.

At the back of the cavern were several smaller passages and a Class Lighthouse, pulsing with an emerald, gold, black, purple, and grey light. The combination of the strange singing and the constant shifts from the Class Lighthouse made the area seem otherworldly. A place beyond the mundane.

An appropriate place of worship.

Suddenly, a smaller sapphire dragon hurried out one of the passages at the back of the cavern. Its eyes were milky and sightless, its awareness stemming from other faculties. At its appearance, the singing stopped and the recorders looked up from their stone pillars.

“A new prophet for the Ghosthound has been born,” The blind dragon whispered. “This new prophet calls its maker Stormshadow. To record the next testament to the Ghosthound’s grace, we must find this individual and receive a revelation of his most recent activities.”

The dragons whispered excitedly amongst themselves. Then one raised her head above the others and asked. “And what is this prophet called? How can we find him?”

“Currently, the Ghosthound’s presence lays across him too stronger; as he is near the center of a recent pattern, I cannot gather that information. But he is known as...” The blind dragon reached through significance, searching for a name. Then he found it and smiled. “Takeyhands.”