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Ryn of Avonside Chapter 159
🕑 Added 2025-05-14 14:35:30 +0000 UTCCatherine
We were actually making progress on the computers. Now, when I scanned through large piles of raw scan data, I could see where things were starting to make sense. It was like a feedback loop of understanding. With each report that came back from the xenology department, I understood more, and that allowed me to give them better output from the raw data.
These days, I did my work in the glass balcony, with a view out towards the path to Verburch. That way, I might catch a glimpse of Mer…
A rustling, then the thumping of footsteps drew my attention away from the sunset-glazed grove beyond the window. Ryn and the rest of the scouting party wandered wearily into the cafe, dumping their packs unceremoniously on the floor so they could flop into seats.
“How is the trip going?” I called, curious. “That fancy noble still being your guide?”
Pouting, Ryn cuddled up against Grace and said, “We just left Mherbara, the home city for the emperor’s lineage. It was amazing, beautiful, and extremely draining. It made Cyotfar look rural.”
“I bet they're fascinating cities,” I mused, although my thoughts didn't wander too far into their streets. I was trying very hard not to stare as Grace began to stroke Ryn’s hair. It made me think of Mer.
Instinctively, I looked out the window, hoping maybe to see her walking through the hills and gardens to reach the tree. She was, of course, nowhere to be seen.
A knot tightened around my heart, squeezing with a sweet, sour pain. I'm sorry, Mer. I'm sorry I'm not obrec. I'm sorry I'm not able to reciprocate the affection that this fucked up curse inflicts on your species.
God, I hadn't realised how much I enjoyed her company until I suddenly didn't have it anymore.
A twisting, restless sensation whirled, foreign in my mind, and I stiffened. What the…
It happened again, with just the slightest bit more urgency. Without prompting — instinctually, I knew that the fruit in my grove was stirring. I sat bolt upright and looked at Ryn as panic began to thunder through my veins.
“Ryn… my grove — the fruit…” I gasped.
Grace's hand left her head right before it would've been thrown off as she stood up. “Go. I'll find Esra.”
A hissing, burning sound interrupted me as I was agreeing. “I'm coming too,” said Eilian, her sword inflamed within its scabbard. Dark fire curled up from the opening where it was drawn an inch out by her tense fingers.
“Okay,” I said, a little confused but thankful.
I pushed myself out of Ryn's grove with a forceful shove of my mind and looked about, orienting myself. The raspberry shape of Ryn and her bun’s groves loomed massive beside me, while out in the jungle void, my own orb hung, shining and reflective as a drop of water.
Using a little burst of telekinetic power, I made my way towards it with Eilian hot on my heels. Right now, she had the sort of energy that a usually goofy, silly husky might have when it sensed real danger to their human. It was a bit of a trend, with obrec women. Mer was a lot less dramatic, though, so maybe she was a different type of dog.
Entering my grove, we appeared on a ledge, high up the titanic column of rock that formed the main corporeal structure of the pocket realm. Wind and cloud brushed gently over us, then whipped around as a gust caused it to become momentarily violent.
“This way,” I said, heading for a cave entrance that led into the core of the spire.
The warm, wet interior of my grove was vibrant with green life. Droplets of water hung from leaves, then slid off as gravity took hold. Just inside the entrance was a circle devoid of vegetation, save for a swollen orange fruit and its slim, parent tree.
A ferret quickly bounced over to me as we approached it and scurried up my leg. Idly, I caught it and placed it on my shoulder.
“Be careful of the darker patches of gravel,” I said, as every footfall sounded an echoing crunch.
When we arrived at the fruit, I tentatively reached out and laid a palm on it. It pulsed with life, and if I really concentrated, I could see the silhouette of a figure in there.
I jerked backwards and took a deep breath, steadying myself. I was very uncomfortable, or even angry, about the fact that someone was being transformed — given immense potential power — without my permission in my grove. Those emotions would soon be given an outlet.
Ryn and Esra arrived a minute later, and immediately, Esra began to speak with authority. “Catherine. I'm glad we'll be able to get this business over and done with. I'll keep them restrained and we'll have a little discussion, see—”
“No,” I said, abruptly. “I have plans. I'll begin them now.”
Esra looked a little taken aback, and seemed to be intent on arguing the point with me, so I just got the hell on with it. I had spent too long in my preparations to let them go to waste.
“You never said anything about plans…” Ryn said, giving me an unreadable look.
Raising my arm, I flicked it out, curving it slightly so that if you were to continue the line it made, it would circle all the way around the mage fruit. A gossamer thread of silver energy raced along that line, until when I stepped back, it was a completed circle.
Next, I spun my hands through a spiralling motion in front of me. It was almost a dance, as the cone that my hands had just outlined became a haze of simmering magical fog. Like a laser being given form, a green line was made visible, reaching from my chest and into the fruit… a fruit that was beginning to shift and buck as its inhabitant stirred.
Quickly, before they could pierce the skin, I tossed my final spell up into the air. An odd organic and circular swirl of lines that could, if you squinted, look like a rune, settled into place above the fruit. It looked vaguely like a dreamcatcher, if one were made of pure oily black energy.
A hand pressed up against the translucent skin from the inside. A thick, heavyset hand that grasped ineffectually for a second, before it redoubled its efforts. With a disgusting slurping, popping sound, it gave way and a naked man tumbled out in a tangle of limbs.
He looked like a ridiculous comic book superhero, with overly defined muscles, broad shoulders, and a square jaw. His hair was a sort of yellowy orange colour, like if someone were trying to recreate the colour of gold, but they were relying on vague descriptions of the metal.
He coughed, throwing up sickly sweet smelling sludge from the fruit, then opened his eyes and looked around. Immediately, he caught sight of the four of us standing there and stumbled quickly to his feet. The moment he was upright, the ring I had traced earlier raced inwards, cinching tight around his arms.
“What? Wha—” he protested in alarm. His feet left the ground as I flicked a finger slightly.
A moment after that, the dreamcatcher construct dropped down from above, covering him in a net of magic that set into something that was at once both immaterial and rigid. His entire upper body was now trapped, unable to move.
“Who are you,” I demanded coolly, stepping forward. Ahead of me, the green thread reached out, connecting to this man like an umbilical cord.
He stared at me with a wide, shocked expression. “Miss Catherine? I…”
I'd seen Rhea a couple of weeks back, but even then I relaxed slightly at the confirmation. She'd never call me Miss Catherine.
“Dr. Richards, then?” I asked.
“Yes, I… let me go, what is this?” He demanded, with a squeak that sounded, frankly, bizarre coming from his new voice.
Again, I brushed away his blathering. “Did you eat the fruit on purpose, or did it draw you in?”
“I… was drawn in…” he said slowly, searching my face with wary eyes.
Narrowing mine at him, I said, “That fruit wasn't meant for you.”
“Why not? Look, my dear, things are complicated in Avonside right now, and the council needs a touch of this new power to make sure things go smoothly,” he said carefully.
At least he understood that I had him at my mercy. Still, he was talking to me with the kind of sugar coated patronising tone that you reserved for a child.
“You followed me into the woods on purpose, then saw the fruit and recognised it from descriptions, so you went for it. Does that about match up with reality?” I asked, seething and trying very hard not to show it.
I could see him gritting his teeth as he regarded me. Finally, he attempted to nod, but the net held his head firmly in place. “Fucking… yes, okay? Yes.”
That was all I needed to hear. With a nod, the circle that had initially restrained him widened again, then spun until I could see its shape without distortion from perspective. Quickly, it floated towards me, passing around Dr. Richards and then the tether. When it reached the centre of that umbilical of complex garden magic, it stopped.
With a sound like a dozen knives scraping together at once, it shrank inwards into nothing and severed the green energy cable. A sickening pulse of nausea rammed into me as it flailed like a snapped steel cable. Dimly, I heard Dr. Richards gasp as he got hit with an identical dose of magical feedback.
“Catherine, what are you… why?” Esra cried, rushing forward. Her arms wrapped around me, protecting me emotionally, if not magically.
From within her embrace, I lifted my aching, ten tonne head and looked around until I saw Ryn. With as much energy as I could muster, I nodded towards Dr. Richards.
Grimly, she nodded and advanced on him while he shivered, naked and fragile on the damp gravel. A tendril of visible magenta power reached out to grasp him by the foot, and then in a flurry of rose petals, she removed him from my grove.
Comments
Pyro Hawk
I think it basically severed the magical lineage connection to Catherine. Basically the NG Mage equivalent of "You are not of my blood, I cast you out of my family and household" and making that genetic alterations stick. At least in regards to Catherine.
Ledabot
I wonder if without the magical input they'll shrivel up and perish.
Kaiyalai
Not sure what that umbilical did but I suspect Richard’s will see further consequences from this.
