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Netherwitch - 42
🕑 Added 2025-07-08 16:00:07 +0000 UTC<< Chapter 41 | Table of Contents | Chapter 43 >>
-oOo-
Chapter 42
-oOo-
“I look like a doll,” Sylvia groused.
The silver-haired witch stood in front of a mirror, twisting left and right to better view her new dress.
The style was gothic.
Dark fabric ran down Sylvia’s arms in long bell sleeves with two, puffy shoulders on either side. At first glance, the shape was reminiscent of her witch-princess dress, but the overall design was more demure. A strip of ruffled, white cloth covered her breasts leaving only her collar exposed, while above a delicate band of black lace wrapped her fragile neck.
The main body of the dress clung tight around her waist, showing her slim figure, the black fabric embroidered with shadowy patterns. Of course, Emily would never let Sylvia escape the plague of pink. While the trim was white, the ties and ribbons were pink. As an extra, girlish touch, silk flowers adorned strategic points, their color complementing Sylvia’s eyes.
At her hips, a skirt of feathers spread out in a wide hoop. Under their adorable fluff was a layer of white lace trimmed with an outer edge of black. The hem ended at a respectable height, hiding the tops of her pure white stockings.
For shoes, Emily had provided a pair of Mary Janes, complete with clunky heels.
By Sylvia’s judgment, her Blood Bone Heels would also look good with this dress.
“No, you look like a faerie princess,” Emily praised.
“A faerie princess doll,” Sylvia retorted.
With a grumpy expression, the silver-haired witch adjusted her headdress. It was black lace with a string of pink flowers. This was the ‘hat’ Emily had tried to sell her on when displaying the pink atrocity.
The evil imp had realized her error and was now attempting to entice Sylvia into the pink dress by adding a conical, pink witch’s hat.
Which… might work.
Hey. It was a good-looking hat!
Emily giggled. “You look adorable. The frills and pink show your cuteness, while the black hints at your mysterious, dark heart.”
“It’s good you realized my heart is dark,” Sylvia said proudly.
Finally, some real praise.
Feeling pleased with herself, Sylvia twirled. Glossy, silver tails swirled with her motion, twin rivers of shimmering silk touched by a hint of lavender-pink. The hem of her feathered skirt fluttered playfully. Sylvia came to a stop, feeling a bit embarrassed.
Her reflection gazed back at her.
Is this me?
Is this who I want to be?
Sylvia was uncertain.
Time had a way of normalizing everything. Sylvia had been a girl for nearly three years now. Her adorable face with its rounded cheeks, cute nose, and elegant chin had slowly eclipsed the chubby visage of Eric Swallow. When she saw herself in the silver, Sylvia had come to expect this body.
Her feelings, however, were muddled.
Emotions came in many shapes in forms. Sometimes they were loud and pure. Other times they were like whispers in the dark. People were often a mess of contradictions, loving and hating the same thing. The animal mind ascribed to no logic. It didn’t comprehend that eating cake would lead to health issues later.
But the super ego understood.
This clash was made all the more difficult to unscramble when one considered the mobility of thought. Some foods became more pleasurable the more you ate. Others would remain disgusting from beginning to end. It was hard to know which from which without experiencing each.
This was Sylvia’s struggle.
She liked being pretty.
… but she didn’t want to be feminine, girly, or weak.
She loved her slim legs and the way her heels shaped her calves.
… but she longed to be the rugged renegade that lived in her heart.
She had grown to enjoy the stream of silver rolling down her back.
… but she preferred being seen as seriousness and deserving of respect.
A clash. A contradiction. This was but one of the conflicts Sylvia had to resolve in order to Awaken. But was a Sylvia without these contradictions still Sylvia? Did she really want to change so greatly?
The silver-haired witch sighed. What she felt was but a taste of the trial Emily would face.
“At least it isn’t pink,” Sylvia said begrudgingly.
Emily clapped her hands. “Then you like it?”
Sylvia rotated half around to better capture her back.
“I think this is going to be my third favorite outfit,” Sylvia admitted. Then she continued, her words as viscous as they were bland. “Right after Belkis’s robes and my school uniform.”
As for her Witch-Princess Dress? Heh. No way. She hated that thing. A word to the wise. Never let a succubus design your clothes unless you want attention.
“Mmm,” Emily’s cheeks puffed angrily. “Your senior sister is poisoning your mind. I should destroy those robes and tell Belkis she can only wear dresses from now on. Like a proper lady!”
Sylvia chuckled.
Well, there was one feeling that was pure. Sylvia enjoyed Emily’s smile. Even if it meant wearing a cute, new dress.
Indulging in the moment, Sylvia triggered her System.
Observe Item.
Ding!
Equipment: Void Raven’s Vestment
Weight: 20.4 droms
Type: Armor/MagicalCharacteristics:
Defense: 10
Mp Drain: 15/hour
Ki Burden: Light/Very Heavy (Void Illusion)Effects:
* Void Slip
* Void IllusionA gothic dress made from the silk of a black spinner then sewed with feathers from a red-eyed raven. While the body contains a hint of the silk’s whisper, the strongest concept comes from the raven’s ability void wing. This leaves a sense that these vestments and its wearer might dissolve into illusion.
Void Slip (Active)
* Mana: 30
* Duration: 7 seconds
* Cooldown: 2 seconds
* Recovery: 72 hoursBy paying the mana cost, the wear can slide into the void. This renders their existence into an illusion, granting an intangibility and resistance to damage identical to that granted by the void slip spell.
This void slip can be maintained for up to 7 seconds with no additional mana cost. This effect may be terminated early, in which case the remaining duration will be saved. The only limit is that at least a quarter of a second must be spent in the slip state before the effect can be ended.
This ability is fueled by a thin layer of essence that congeals in the raven feathers. Because of this, the duration only accumulates outside the soul. This essence can be stored with the dress, but will add 5 droms of mass
Under standard planar conditions, it takes 72 hours to recover the full 7 seconds of duration. This rate may vary greatly depending on the ether distribution of the environment. In a pinch, the wearer may pay 500mp to restore the duration in a single hour.
Void Illusion (Passive)
* +15 DR during void slip
* +50 defense during void slip
* -10% void slip mana costWhen entering into illusion, the wearer fades more deeply than normal. The effects of attacks, magics, and other forces will be significantly weakened. At the same time, the integrity of the illusionary body will be increased.
The void illusion effect arises from the vestment’s concept. Therefore, it will apply only when the wearer fuels it with their ki. Void Illusion not only applies to the equipment ability ‘Void Slip’, but also to any similar spell or art.
Sylvia studied the description, getting a sense of how her new armor worked
“You went with an active defense.”
The passive protection of a barrier was better in ambush scenarios. It also held well against minor attacks. Active responses tended to be stronger, albeit at the cost that the wearer might miss the chance to use them. Fortunately, Sylvia could trigger the effect without interrupting her casting, so it was more an issue of staying aware.
“The pink dress will be traditional armor,” Emily answered. “I wanted this dress and your blue one to be lighter. That way, you’ll be able to switch outfits according to your mood.”
Sylvia nodded. Having a choice would be nice. And she’d very much appreciate never having to wear conjured clothes again.
“So what’s this about the blue one?”
Sylvia peered at the emeraldette. Emily’s umbral eyes turned.
“It’s not finished,” she said secretively.
Sylvia expression showed her dead-eyed suspicion.
“It’s blue, not pink. And it’ll be very pretty,” Emily said stubbornly. “But I won’t let you look at it until I’m done. It’s going to be a surprise.”
…
“Blue, huh?” Sylvia questioned. “No pink at all then.”
“It’s mostly blue,” Emily defended.
Sylvia nodded wisely. “So it’s forty-nine percent pink.”
“Mmm,” the emeraldette hummed angrily.
“How are we doing on materials?” Sylvia asked, suddenly changing the subject.
“I want more silk,” Emily whined, cheeks all puffy. “I won’t tell you any more than that.”
“I wasn’t talking about clothes,” Sylvia deadpanned.
Though it wouldn’t be bad to have a waygate in the Black Silk Swamp, Nemesis was higher priority. That island was sure to be rich in chaos materials. Plus, any gate on Nemesis would have to be strong, as the tunnel had to cut through a thick band of astral space.
As for how to get to Nemesis? Well, Sylvia figured she could wheedle Lenape until he gave in. The Utrecht couldn’t get close, but the world turtle would have no problem diving into the astral currents.
“Ah!” Emily sounded. She smiled, happy to gossip about what they’d accomplished. “We’ve already built an ether furnace in Starport. It covers all the basic primordial elements. Right now, we’re using it to fire a few tons of brick. Afterward, we’ll tear it down and build a better one.”
Sylvia nodded. “We need to refine wood for the ether channels.”
“Right! We’re going to bootstrap our way to a new world,” Emily said excitedly.
An ether furnace smelted materials with elemental energy. A combination of earth and fire could render rock into brick. These elements would not only make the stone firmer, but would also erode essences that leaned toward air or water leaving the rock purer.
Like this, scattered boulders amounting to a thousand droms could be reduced into one, solid block.
Anything constructed from this material would be stronger, tougher, and better able to resist both magic and conceptual effects.
And brick was hardly the only substance they could refine.
“Make sure to send me some good bricks and wood,” Sylvia commented. “We could use a furnace here. At the very least, it’ll save us on gating costs.”
“I already have one planned,” Emily cheered. “But in the long run, we’ll need a full scale alchemy furnace.”
A primordial furnace worked with the primordial elements. This included the classics like fire, water, earth, and air but also the secondary elements such as wood, lightning, ice, and metal. An alchemical furnace provided all twenty-four elements along with a higher degree of precision.
Only with sophisticated equipment like this could advanced synthetic materials be made.
“At least we have that astral furnace from Faded Star,” Sylvia said.
“Mmm,” Emily agreed. “But it’s too small. And it can’t blend primordial and chaos.”
Sylvia frowned. “Soul-space silver?”
“We’re short,” Emily confirmed. “We only have a thousand droms left and most of it is in soli.”
“That’s going to be a problem.”
Some things were nice to have. Soul-space silver was a necessity. Without soul-space silver, they couldn’t make space bags or soul bound equipment.
Which meant, when a gamer died, they’d drop every item they’d gathered.
“The System is going to roll its own currency,” Sylvia mused. “Once everyone is using it, we can replace the soli. But it’s going to be hard to synthesize more soul-space silver after.”
“I know,” Emily replied, nodding along. “There is a lot of glimmer in the cliffs of Starlight. So we can make space steel. But….”
The emeraldette sighed.
The recipe for soul-space silver was well known. First, collect astral glimmer from the rocks facing the starry void. After that, reduce the ore in a furnace. The element wind would strip away the excess rock. A combination of space and metal would solidify the remnant.
From this process they’d collect space steel.
That’s where things got tricky.
Space steel had limited use. Basically, its only function was to act as a frame for wards. Thus, most space steel was consumed as an ingredient to make soul-space silver. The transmutation was simple enough. Stick space steel into a soul then wait.
So what was the problem?
Well, first off, space steel was mildly toxic. Having twenty droms of it rattling around in the soul would leave a person weakened and nauseous. Worse, the steel would corrode essence, leaching away precious experience points.
Hell solved this problem by strong arming debtors and criminals. Some slave rings got into the soul-space silver business as well, though Sylvia wasn’t clear on how they avoided karmic loss given the Heavenly Will’s interdiction on all matters related to the soul.
Perhaps they used a carrot instead of a stick.
It wasn’t a ‘sin’ as long as the slave ‘volunteered’.
But this wouldn’t work in the Cloud Island Wilderness. Sylvia’s second official act as governor had been to ban slavery. Likewise, they were short on desperate players willing to sacrifice their comfort, inventory, and experience points for a mild bump in annual wages. Nor did Sylvia have any particular interest in creating players of that sort.
There were alternative recipes. The problem was, while the ancient method of transmuting soul-space silver was well known, the alternative methods were not.
“Do you know how Heaven produces their soul-space silver?” Sylvia pondered.
Surely, Heaven didn’t force souls to hold space steel. It’d go against their whole concept of utopia.
“I don’t know,” Emily answered.
Sylvia took in a breath. “Then we’ll just have to invent our own process.”
“It’ll be super fun,” Emily agreed. “Alchemy with Sylvia. I’ll have to make matching dresses.”
The silver-haired witch rolled her eyes. Yes. Dresses were clearly the most important part.
“Fortunately, there’s no big rush,” Sylvia interjected. She put on an evil grin. “The noobs from Earth won’t be expecting items like space bags or soul bound equipment. So we can limit their number and treat the ones we do give out as an epic quest reward.”
“Sylvia, ~you are terrible.~” Emily sang.
“I’m a witch,” Sylvia declared proudly. “Speaking of equipment, do we have anything I can give to Riley and the others?”
“Hmm,” Emily pondered. “Most of the weapons belong to other witches, but I think we can….”
In the Item Shop of the Beginner’s Village, the two girls continued to natter.
-oOo-
Sylvia whooshed over a canopy of deep green. A faint mist clung to the Beginner’s Forest, shrouding it in mystery. From her position, Sylvia could see the trees rise as the woods extended fingers into the stony hills that marked the western side of Axis’s cauldron. The bramble of green clawed its way toward the mountains before breaking upon rising rock.
A pair of birds tumbled angrily behind her.
“Whawk!”
“Whawk! Whawk!”
Wet feather dodos, one had a body of blue while the other was white. Invisible air wound around their fat torsos, tangling legs and neck. The phantasms struggled against her magical grip, but internalized ki had no hope against something as intangible as the wind.
Levitation was a great spell. It could carry heavy loads of rock. Or it could be used to bind a pair of stupid phantasms.
A smarter creature would’ve struggled free, or realized it should kill its captor. The blindfolded dodos, however, were as dumb as rocks. They flailed uselessly in the wind. Capturing them alive, though, had been trickier. For this, Sylvia had deployed a spell called psionic spike.
The silver-haired witch grinned when she spotted the three girls. Riley, Natalie, and Willow were about two hundred meters into the woods, not far from the stone bridge and river that divided forest from town.
“Special delivery!” she sang, broom flashing over them.
The witch released her magic. Freed, the dodos tumbled through the sky, tiny wings catching the air to slow their descent. The cloth figments that bound their eyes faded.
“Crap! She brought two!” Riley shouted.
“Whawk!”
Birds cried, hitting the ground in a roll. Sylvia swept around, leaving behind a trail of petals as she slowed. A tap off the air, and she floated up and to the left before getting a good angle on the action.
The fight had begun.
The pale feathered phantasm had landed poorly, thrown into a roll and stumble. Its blue brother fared better. The dodo didn’t waste a second before flying into a rage. Water ether swirled around the beast. Half formed into a shimmering skin of clear liquid that sheathed the bird.
This was the wet feather dodo’s natural defense, a magical barrier. At Sylvia’s level, it was easy enough to punch right through. For weaker witches, this protection made the beast incredibly annoying.
The rest of the water ether gathered above the creature in a softball sized sphere.
Riley counter charged. “■■■ ■■■■!”
Ether was drawn from the blonde’s palace, guided by a cheap school staff. Ten runes swept in a circle, mana mixing with the raw energy of the world. A curtain of water took form, levitating in front of the witch.
Pa-pssh!
The wet feather dodo unleashed its elemental bullet. Water smashed into water. Liquid sprayed in every direction as both spells disintegrated.
Attack absorbed, Riley Smith skipped to the right. The blonde’s charge had served to reduce the phantasm’s angle of fire so it could only strike her. Now, Riley opened the path. Though this lane, her companions could counterattack in her stead.
The response was immediate.
Whomp.
A blazing ball of fire arched from Willow’s staff. Flame shot. Fire crashed into water. Liquid sizzled for a brief instant before the two ethers canceled in a mild puff.
Just like that, the wet feather dodo was stripped of its armor.
“■■■■, ■■■.”
Natalie’s magic was just an instant slower. Wind blades sprang from the witch’s staff, two invisible swords sweeping out at an angle. Against this weak foe, the spell showed its worth. Before the last embers of fire died, the blades bit into flesh.
The dodo was ripped in half.
Excellently done, Sylvia praised from her position up high.
The girls had used this strategy before. It was efficient and effective. Not only did they attack the wet feather dodo’s weakness, they resolved their own, slow casting speed. These girls weren’t trained battle witches. They were inexperienced students. Riley could shorten water shield chant by a third. Willow was even better, able to handle a steady two runes per a syallable.
Natalie, who’d consumed the Basic Combat Magic skill book, beat them both, mustering a three rune fast cast.
Natural magic, however, was faster than that.
To resolve this conundrum, the girls had arranged themselves into a battle order. Riley to shield. Willow to strip. Natalie to kill. Sylvia would admit, the tactic was highly effective. Against a single dodo, they’d win one hundred times out of a hundred.
Which was why she’d brought two birds instead of one.
Before the first died, the second phantasm had found its footing. Riley was the closest. Logically, it should’ve attacked her. Instead, the dumb, white feathered dodo charged at the first witch it saw, the twin tailed pinkette. Riley cringed, reversing course.
Too late.
As for Willow? Sylvia shook her head when the pinkette tried to chant then sputtered. It wasn’t easy to cast under pressure.
The phantasm leapt.
“Whawk!”
Gliding through the air, the dodo’s battle cry resounded. The beast raised its clawed feet, blades water growing around them in meter long stilts.
The phantasm raked the air.
Willow squeaked, then threw herself onto the ground.
Her exaggerated dodge saved the witch from being cut in half. But it left her vulnerable to the beast’s follow up. Though the dodo was dumb, its instincts were sharp. The bird twisted in mid-flight, sucking water ether from the swords into a sphere that hovered in front of its beak.
“Whawk!” it squawked again. A deadly softball shot forward like a ball from a canon.
Willow cringed. With smooth grace, Natalie stepped in.
“■■ ■■.”
The forest-haired woman had dashed forward the moment she saw things go wrong, but she was still two steps short when the bullet fired.
But that didn’t mean her shield couldn’t reach.
Instead of forming in a plane, a strip of water snaked forward. Pa-pssh! By a bare instant, the water bullet was intercepted. Natalie continued her run, whipping the scattered water ether around her before the spell could completely dissolve.
A beautiful display of mastery, Sylvia praised.
“~■.”
A jet of water blasted into the dodo’s chest. The phantasm was flung five meters distant. Water burst. The classic chain out of water shield that was just too, too good.
Whomp.
This time, Riley acted as the barrier breaker. Her flame shot nailed the white feathered dodo directly on its head. Water canceled fire, erasing both her attack and the bird’s defense.
Willow, however, was too shaken to snatch the kill.
Natalie tried to fill the gap. “■■■■, ■■■.”
Wind was pulled from the asteri’s palace. Two blades flashed through the sky. Too late. Water, like shimmering crystal, enveloped the bird. Wind blades crashed into the barrier, shattering the clear armor into a spray of mist while leaving the dodo beneath untouched.
“Whawk! Whawk!”
The angry bird squawked with fury. A third skin of liquid covered the beast. And that, right there, was why wet feather dodos were so dangerous.
Unless you could deliver a clean hit, the only hope was to exhaust the phantasm’s mana pool.
“Let me! ■■■ ■■■■.”
Riley rushed to the front, summoning a barrier of water in front of her. Willow and Natalie took the hint, the pinkette scrambling to her feet while the green-haired witch danced back. Natalie called the wind while Willow gathered fire. Of the three, only Willow missed out on an elemental palace. The pinkette had received deep reservoir instead.
Pa-pssh! Whomp. Sh-shunk.
The feathered phantasm met its end.
Sylvia hopped off her broom, sinking toward the ground on a cloud of petals.
“Not bad,” she said, offering a golf clap. “Not bad at all.”
With her pure starlight eyes, Sylvia glimpsed the wisps of blood drawn from the dissolving beasts. The silver-haired witch found it fascinating how overlapping domains worked together to harvest this resource. The streams split into four, each girl claiming experience according to their contribution.
Apparently, the System evaluated her monster collecting role highly.
This split had proven something of an obstacle when Sylvia tried to power level the girls. Fortunately, the System wasn’t as strict with experience as it was with merit points. Once Sylvia’s ‘stomach’ was full, the remainder would overflow, pouring into her companions.
Speaking of levels, the System rated the girls at roughly 90, 70, and 70 respectively, with an attribute boost of around 50. It wouldn’t be long until they caught up to where they’d been before transmigration.
“Wet feather dodo’s travel in groups of three to thirty,” Natalie said coolly. Despite her chill elegance, she had a small skip to her step.
“Not even Sylvia would mess with a group of thirty,” Riley countered, grinning.
The blonde patted the morose pinkette on the shoulder to console her. Natalie wore a slight smile, pride mixing with genuine happiness. Transmigration had done a lot to soften the forest-haired witch.
A moment later, Riley flashed Sylvia a smile.
“Okay, you can hit us with the truth now. What do you really think?”
How cynical.
“Not bad, and I mean it,” Sylvia answered. Her pastel pink eyes swept the group. “Willow’s reactions were slow and Riley, you and Natalie should’ve pressed the kill. But overall? Not bad.”
Sylvia had thrown in the second dodo as a surprise. The witches handled it pretty well given their skill and level.
Willow’s head drooped. “Sorry. I messed up.”
“We’re still alive, so it wasn’t a big mistake,” Riley comforted.
“Excuse me,” Natalie interrupted. “But I believe forcing the kill on the white feathered bird would’ve been a waste of mana.”
The witch’s poise and high tones conveyed her confidence. Sylvia nodded. She had a point. But she was focused on the wrong thing.
“There is more than one kind of efficiency,” Sylvia warned. “Mana, time, and opportunity. By saving mana you lost time and gave the phantasm another opportunity. And the stagger effect of the hits would’ve protected Willow just as well as a water shield.”
Natalie pressed her lips before relenting. “I see.”
“When you improve your fast casting and the others learn battle magic, things will be smoother,” Sylvia said. “In a fight, mana efficiency should only be considered when you’re comfortable with the flow. When things start getting out of hand, push it. A fast kill is more important than a few saved points.”
By now, all three witches had accumulated enough merit points to buy a skill book.
While Natalie had bravely taken Basic Combat Magic, Riley had chosen to shore up her foundation with the Lesser Codex. Sylvia felt both were good picks. Natalie’s skill with runes was pretty firm, so jumping ahead for a better experience yield as a good call. Riley, on the other hand, suffered in academics. Closing that hole would do her a lot of good on and off the battlefield.
Willow was the black sheep of the group. Instead of buying a book, the pinkette had used her points to unlock System features. Beyond the communication features, Willow had selected Observe Terrain and Track Opponents. The combination had transformed her into the group’s premier scout.
Sylvia knew the witches were itching to head out into the forest and starting hunting monsters for themselves.
Once they hit level 100, she’d let them.
“How many books until we’re good?” Willow questioned.
“Three,” Sylvia said, raising her fingers. “Basic Combat Magic and How to Fast Cast are a must for any battle mage. Beyond that, I’d recommend you all buy a blank skill book and use it to practice combat directly. Doing so will resolve your lack of experience and ensure you integrate your skills into a complete style.”
Speaking of which, Sylvia still needed to buy another one for herself.
“Any trick so that we can talk to each other in the middle of a fight?” Riley asked.
“Dual casting or gesture magic,” Sylvia said firmly.
Mages had two major weaknesses in a battle. Melee was the obvious. Magical bloodlines were slower, weaker, and more fragile than warrior bloodlines. If a powerful fighter got up close to a mage, it’d be difficult to cast any spell requiring more than a pair of syllables.
Less obvious was inability to communicate.
To cast spells, a witch had to chant. This was driven by the fact that spirit speech arose from the act of speaking. Unless a mage was willing to spend hundreds or thousands of hours practicing spells with gestures, it was difficult to speak and cast spells at the same time.
Dual casting was also on Sylvia’s to-do list.
There was always so much more to learn.
“Enough about fighting,” Sylvia said, cutting off all future questions. “The warehouse is running low on wood and I brought you out here to collect it. I’ll mark the trees for you. Remember, only harvest the trees I mark.”
All business, Sylvia triggered a System feature of her own. Observe Resources.
-oOo-
The sun sat on the horizon, its shape half hidden by the mountains to the northeast. Even after months of living in the Cloud Island Wilderness, Sylvia had yet to adapt to the irregular celestial motion. Yesterday, the sun has set to the north. The day before that, west-north-west. Every new day brought with it a subtle wrongness which threatened to throw off her sense of direction.
Luckily, the silver-haired witch could always position herself with her maps or by using the Three Sisters lingering overhead.
When the islands could be seen, that was.
Unlike the Timeless Beryl Wilderness, this plane was not one of eternal stillness. Day turned into night. The moons rose and set. Weather came carrying rain, a spring heat, or an autumn chill. The only thing the world lacked was a change of seasons. If Sylvia wished for winter, her only choice was the frost pole. If she dreamed of sweltering summer, it was a quick gate back to Starlight.
“Heya!”
Sylvia shouted against the whipping wind, waving her hand wildly. Emily looked up and gave an exaggerated wave back. Wearing a smile, the silver-haired witch flew over the Beginner’s Village, leaving the emeraldette to tinker with the ether channels.
Sylvia directed her broom in a broad circle. The girls could store the lumber just fine on their own.
A lot had changed in the last few months.
Two roads stretched from the town in gray threads. One to the north, terminating at the quarry. The other to the east, winding through the hills until it reached Yaalon Lake. The latter had been a major undertaking, the distance being five times that of the quarry. Sylvia had completed the back portion herself leaving the girls a segment of their own.
And where the new road ended could be found a submerged house holding their phylacteries.
Though Lenape had promised no harm would befall it, Sylvia had positioned a pair of gargoyles just to be sure. Two of the eight Emily brought with her from Starport. The other six were protecting the waygate and the Beginner’s Village.
Their presence was a breath of relief. Before, there had always been the lingering fear that her hard work would be scattered by marauding monsters.
The village itself had been likewise transformed. The few buildings had doubled in number. A stone skeleton was rising, the foundation of the town’s Resurrection Hall. To fuel the pool, Sylvia planned to set pipes, bringing water from the lake. Near the Item Shop was another recently completed structure, a smithy. This was the most important addition, as it would house the array of furnaces Sylvia and Emily had planned.
Further up the main avenue, Adventure Road, could be found less functional but equally important additions. First was Emily’s pride and joy, the Starlight Residence. With this, Emily’s precious witches wouldn’t have to rub shoulders with dirty, stinky boys when the gamers arrived. Instead, they would have their own private garden of femininity.
Sylvia thought it rather silly, but she did see the point. So she had started putting together an apartment complex beside the Inn. A space for richer gamers to retreat, even if they weren’t witches.
More importantly, it made clear Sylvia wouldn’t stand for this discrimination!
Sure, the poor men would simply have to accept that Sylvia didn’t have as much love for her project as Emily had for hers. But that’s life. Suck it up.
After completing her slow circuit, Sylvia drifted down. Eventually, she settled atop the Inn’s roof, chin nestled in her palm as she gazed out over her creation. She imagined Adventure Road teaming with gamers. People rushing back from the quarry with loads of stone piled up in their wagons and carts. The small town would grow. A score of buildings would become a hundred. The single main road would split into two, then three, then five.
“I can’t let it get too big, though. The Beginner’s Village is for beginners,” Sylvia said to herself. “If high-level players try to stick around, I’ll run them out.”
As the sky darkened further, streetlights started to flicker, a nostalgic scene from another life.
A thud and a shuffle called Sylvia’s attention. The witch watched Riley climb up onto the roof. The tomboy wore a sheepish smile.
“You need to stop landing on rooftops,” Riley joked.
“You need to get a broom or learn a movement art,” Sylvia retorted.
“The only one in the library is the waltz of flowers,” Riley said with a teasing smile. “And if I learn that, I’ll have to surrender my tomboy certificate. Also, when is the Item Shop going to start selling brooms?”
Sylvia gave her friend a dull-eyed glare.
“All done?”
“Daily quest finished,” Riley affirmed. “Emily is close to getting the ether furnace working. I ran away when she started talking about how we had to tear down all the stone structures now and rebuild them with processed brick.”
The silver-haired witch chuckled. “That sounds like her.”
Sylvia would throw up a dozen minor quests to appease the emeraldette. If nothing happened anytime soon, Emily could only blame the System.
They had way more important things to be doing in the short term.
“With this, I’m five hundred points from my next book,” Riley counted off happily.
The tomboy’s grin was wide, legs kicking as they dangled over the roof’s edge. Her bright green eyes gleamed with youthful energy. Sylvia was glad to see it. Once, she had feared that she’d leave her friend behind forever. Now Riley was closing in, albeit a thousand steps behind.
Maybe one day, they’d stand shoulder to shoulder again like they had in the Academy. Equals. She’d like that.
“I told you skill books are awesome.”
“Words weren’t enough to capture it,” Riley admitted. The asteri gazed out into the dying day, the orange-red light setting her hair aflame with bronze and gold. “For the first time in my life, I feel like a witch. Before, magic was a struggle. Now I can look at your enchantments and say, damn, I kind of know what that means.”
Sylvia nodded. She knew exactly how Riley felt. With each book Sylvia consumed, new doors opened to her. The more she learned, the more amazed she was by her predecessors. The hallmark of a master magister was fluent casting. This was the ability to weave new spells as easily as mortals conjured new sentences.
Lady Vallenfelt was still long off from achieving fluent magic and Sylvia had yet to catch up with her teacher.
Esmeralda Vallenfelt. Her master. Her teacher. Her friend.
Her lover?
Sylvia sighed. She brushed away the thought.
“Wait until you pick up arithmancy, spell theory, and the Great Codex,” Sylvia continued. “That’s when magic really starts making sense.”
“It’ll be a few years, I think. But thanks to the System, I can actually imagine learning all of it,” Riley accepted. “It’s weird. When I learned runes, I thought it’d be pure support. But spells just feel more right now. Like they’re better. Stronger.”
“Alignment,” Sylvia interjected. “What you’re feeling is alignment. A spell consists of three parts: runes, energy, and intent. Runes, like words, hold meaning. When your intent fits their meaning, a spell will have greater effect, just like a well swung axe will cut better than the same axe swung poorly.”
Riley nodded. “I think I get it. Before, I barely knew what the runes were for. I was just memorizing the sequence the book described. Now that I know what they mean, the spell comes together more firmly.”
“Exactly,” Sylvia confirmed. “Alignment becomes more important when casting advanced magics or high magics. The more runes in a spell, the more specific its meaning. You might manage meteor blast using a translated description, but casting gate is just straight up impossible. Which is why all serious mages learn the Great Codex.”
Dabblers could neglect their foundation and memorize spells directly. A real witch could not.
Plus, it was way easier to memorize a spell if you knew what it was doing.
Riley scratched a freckled cheek, expression uneasy. “I think I remember Professor Fischer saying this.”
She did, though Sylvia doubted most of her classmates had understood it. Magic was too mysterious back then.
“Feeling and hearing are two different things,” Sylvia consoled. “You’ll get it.”
“Yeah,” Riley breathed. “I think I will.”
Ether stirred. The presence was like a shift in the wind. The sky, fading into purple, gained new light. Sylvia eyes were drawn up. The dull leaves of Yaalon filled with vivid color. A majestic beauty she had not witnessed since the day she set foot in Axis.
The world tree was awake.
“Wow,” Riley sounded, standing up. “It was beautiful before, but that’s just gorgeous.”
Sylvia closed her eyes, remembering the scene when they crested the ridge. Fire in the color of autumn. Green like the birth of spring. Just Emily and her, alone in the world, venturing through the fearsome wilderness.
Silence hung for a long moment.
Then her eyes opened. A fractal universe of pastel pink, alien and unknown.
“Hey Riley,” Sylvia said, voice weak. “How do you know when you’re in love?”
Eyes of brilliant green studied her.
“Did Emily finally make a move on you, or did you figure it out yourself?”
Sylvia scowled. “How long did you know?”
“I realized something was up in the first few months,” Riley answered with a broad grin. “I clued in that she was crushing on you after six.”
Growling, Sylvia punched her friend in the shoulder. Riley laughed.
“Details, girl. You gotta give me the details,” the blonde said unabashed.
“She asked me to seduce her,” Sylvia sighed. “After their souls merge.”
The blonde tomboy was quiet for a moment while Sylvia’s words sunk in.
“Okay. That’s heavy,” Riley murmured.
Another lapse followed while Sylvia watched the shifting gradients of the world tree.
“You going to do it?”
“I…” Sylvia’s voice cracked. “I don’t know.”
Sylvia could imagine herself with Emily. She could see the two of them living in the same house or holding hands while watching the sunset. She could even see Emily cuddling with her in the same bed. Esmeralda was harder to envision. But when she did…
Gulp.
The problem was, when Sylvia summoned Esmeralda in her fantasies, Sylvia always saw herself as a man.
“What’s the issue?” Riley asked. “She’s not your type?”
“Esmeralda,” Sylvia said awkwardly. She sank down, chin on her knees. “And me. When I think about doing the deed, I remember I don’t have the right parts.”
Sylvia wasn’t a complete prude. She’d taken her body for a spin at Tartarus and had experienced the pleasures it could bring. But her mind just hiccuped on the idea of her and Lady Vallenfelt.
“You still see yourself as a man and Emily wants a princess,” Riley understood. The blonde gazed out toward the setting sun, the last violet embers of the day reflected on the cornea of her intense green eyes.
“I should probably accept reality and give up,” Sylvia admitted.
Except, she didn’t want to. She didn’t know if she loved Emily. Not in the romantic sense. But she wanted the emeraldette to be there with her every day she woke up, planning their towns and cities. Venturing through the forest. Sharing quiet moments.
“Nah, you should Awaken,” Riley answered. “You say Awakening is about resolving contradiction. So, resolve them. After, if your heart can accept that you’ll be her princess, then you should spend time with her. Get to know her complete self.”
“She supposed to be my princess, not the other way around,” Sylvia groused.
“Emily will love being your princess. She just wants you to be her princess too,” Riley laughed. Then her expression turned serious. “One word of advice, Emily is a traditional girl. If you chase her, she’ll want to marry you.”
…
An image flickered in Sylvia’s mind, Emily in a white dress, looking up at a man in a black tuxedo. The silver-haired witch let out another sigh. Riley was right. Her heart was too confused. Just as Emily had to wait until her souls joined before starting a relationship, Sylvia too had to undergo a mutation.
Maybe then, Sylvia would see two brides dressed in white making their vows before an altar.
Though, it was very awkward for demons to swear their love before an altar.
…
Err, technically Sylvia was fey now and not a demon. Emily though, she’d be a demon forever. An evil little imp. Lady Vallenfelt had sworn the Oath of Prosecution. All devils had to take that oath.
“Just follow your heart, Sylvia,” Riley said, nudging her friend. Then the blonde gave a laugh. “Not that I’m a guru when it comes to love.”
Sylvia winced. Right. Her friend had killed her ex. And that was after Riley’s ex had abused her and nearly murder her new boyfriend.
“Sorry,” she said lamely.
“It’s fine,” Riley replied, closing her eyes. “It doesn’t bother me anymore. Transmigrating…, it’s hard to explain it. It’s like there’s this distance. An objectivity that wasn’t there before. I still remember him. All the good parts are beautiful. I want it again. The bad parts? I have the memories, but the scars are all gone.”
The tomboy was quiet for a moment, gazing up at the darkening sky. Her tone was almost nostalgic.
“I used to be haunted by it, you know. I’d have nightmares where I felt the knife entering his chest, the hot blood pouring out. Now, when I look back, what my heart finds instead is the man I left behind.” The blonde took in an unsteady breath. “I regret it. I regret leaving without saying anything. And I’m going to fix it. I know he’s moved on. I truly hope he’s moved on. But, at the very least, he deserves an explanation. Not just him. I need to tell the truth to my parents.”
Sylvia patted her friend on the shoulder. Her lips quirked. Her tone took a dramatic turn.
“An e-mail from beyond the grave.”
“~Oo~ooo~oo~” Riley noised spookily. The freckled blonde wore a gentle smile. “You’re a good friend, you know that.”
“Just not the right shape,” Sylvia joked.
“Yeah, a good man should be at least six feet tall,” Riley returned.
“I see,” Sylvia sneered. “You’re one of those.”
“Hey, a girl likes what she likes,” Riley said, unapologetic. “And don’t forget, I was five ten back on Earth.”
Fair enough. Men also liked what they liked. And Sylvia liked legs. Sexy, sexy legs. And nice, plump breasts.
“How did it work out for Willow?” Sylvia asked.
Sylvia knew the pinkette had reached out, but Willow hadn’t confided in her what happened since. Not that Sylvia wanted Willow to confide in her.
Riley held up a horizontal hand and wobbled it back and forth.
“Pretty mixed. A couple of her sisters were happy. The others were mad. She cried for days after, but Willow’s stubborn. She’ll keep reaching out no matter how many times it takes,” Riley scratched her cheek. “I’ll admit I’m a little nervous too. I basically ran off after committing murder.”
Basically? Riley should’ve said literally.
The conversation fell into a lull. Sylvia sat there, gazing out on her creation.
Ding. Ding. Ding.
The System bell sounded.
Favored Access: Yaalon has accepted your purchase of chaos crystal.
Favored Access: Yaalon has accepted your purchase of cosmic sap.
Quest Update: Yaalon invites you into the upper branches to collect Esmeralda Vallenfelt’s quest reward.
Ding.
Warning: All pending main quests will be closed in 3 months. This period can be extended by one day for each citizen added to the Cloud Island Wilderness. Regardless of how many citizens are recruited, all outstanding main quests will be forcefully closed after the Festival of Light.
Closed quests will provide no reward. Instead, failure to complete these quests will incur a penalty.
Current number of citizens: 4.
Sylvia stood, gazing up at the wold tree solemnly. Riley rose beside her.
“Well, shit,” the tomboy muttered. “What’s the plan now?”
The silver-haired witch took a deep breath. “It’s the same one as before, we just have to accelerate it. I need to talk to Emily.”
Riley grinned. “Can’t say I won’t mind having more people in town to talk to.”
Without another word, Sylvia jumped off the roof.
-oOo-
Transmigration
Transmigration is a process of rebirth common to the netherworld. It consists of shedding the outer layers of the soul then sinking the naked core into Unus Mundus. During transmigration, all accumulated soul essence is purged. This means that level is reset to zero. However, cores, false or real, will remain. Thus, benefits gained from consolidation or mutation are retained.
Before a new transmigration, the soul must mature for at least twenty years. Failure to abide increases the risk of true death. Mortal years can be included in this time frame if, and only if, the soul did not pass through Unus Mundus to reach the netherworld.
Beyond that, the time frame between transmigrations is purely one of choice. It is said in the Age of Myths few demons transmigrated at all.
Cultivation
The desire for greater cultivation is a common reason to transmigrate.
When the soul mutates or consolidates, the soul adapts to the bloodline code. Transmigration allows the cultivation to be rebuilt, which is often necessary to benefit from this increased talent. It also forces the reformation of the outer and inner membranes – though not the nuclear membrane. This can heal some classes of injuries to the soul. The effect is also useful in that it repairs the slow degradation experienced by the outer membrane over time, which reduce talent.
For those who failed a consolidation due to a membrane rupture, often a transmigration must be carried out before another attempt.
As a rule of thumb, demons seek transmigration after every major advancement. Most, though, will pause at the peak of their strength for a time while they gather money and resources. Talented demons might wait for two advancements before transmigrating. However, even the talented will slow as their level approaches their limit.
Psychology
Transmigration provides a powerful psychological renewal. For ancient demons, this is often the easiest and best way to deal with ennui and trauma.
This mental affect arises when the core is placed into Unus Mundus. Unus Mundus is a collective unconsciousness born from life. Being exposed to it directly invokes an extreme form of introspection. Colloquially, the person see their life flash before their eyes. However, this event is not just carried out from the soul’s perspective. Instead, the soul sees its life through the lens of multiple minds.
Some demons refuse to transmigrate for exactly this. A refusal to transmigrate is particularly common among persons who dare not face their selves. It is worth noting, however, those souls that cannot endure this introspection rarely make it to the netherworld in the first place.
The cleansing of the soul also has an effect of refreshing perspective. This allows one to enjoy and experience things again with the clarity of a child. This is an especially desired feature among older demons, who slowly become so jaded with life that they struggle to enjoy anything at all.
Humans, after all, are not creatures meant to live for thousands of years.
Culture
Transmigration has long since become part of netherworld culture. Young demons transmigrate every century or so. Older demons might wait for several centuries to pass. By common parlance, any period that culminates in a transmigration is considered a life. Thus, someone who has transmigrated twice is on their ‘third life’.
Mortal lives are excluded from this counting.
The notion of a life is also important for legal matters. Certain laws, oaths, and structures apply to a single life only. Marriage oaths, for instance, must be renewed with each life. A life, in effect, is used as a statute of limitations for certain rules and wrongs.
This attitude carries into broader culture. It is considered a faux paus to bring grudges and disputes across the boundary of transmigration, unless the transgressions were particularly serious. To hold a grudge across multiple transmigrations is seen as a sign of bad character.
Due to the renewal aspects of transmigration, it’s common to treat those who’ve been recently reborn as ‘children’. Thus, more leeway is given for bad behavior or missteps of etiquette. Some bloodlines make this aspect directly apparent. For instance, those of the Ouranios Nefritos Anthros bloodline will restart their life with the body of a ten-year-old child.
Finally, transmigration is a symbol of death.
Since the creation of the Heavenly Will, souls are rarely destroyed in the netherworld. Therefore, failed transmigrations have become the foremost cause of true death. Sometimes demons enter transmigration hoping for the end. Others simply have reached their limit, either in desire or will, or in the form of accumulated entropy.
Such souls melt into Unus Mundus forever.
There is as much debate as to what life might exist after the afterlife. In this way, immortals are little different from mortals. One thing, though, does change. Whereas mortals often feared death, immortals usually accept their final moment. The shift comes from time and perspective. Older demons have experienced many lives, so many in fact, that by the time Unus Mundus claims them they welcomed death with open arms.
Comments
Steve Barbour
In the Modern Era, it's similar to the difference between American and Canadian. That is to say, to which nation are you a citizen? Except, neither Hell nor the Fey Federation have a proper definition of citizenship. Its based on residency more than anything. A demon is someone that resides in Hell and views themself or is viewed belonging to Hell. Emily/Esmeralda can still be considered a demon because they've formally taken the Oath of Prosecution. Sylvia doesn't have such a well defined tie. So arguably she's no longer a demon. But she's arguably not fey either, as she's not part of the Fey Federation. ... except, the Cloud Island Wilderness exists under the control of Yaalon, who is also the primary System Node. This smacks of the Law of Wood, under which the Fey Federation was formed where another entity (initially a world tree) acted as a proxy for the Heavenly Will creating a situation similar to Heavenly Law except no Heaven's Law. Which makes all gamers more fey than anything else.
AchroniaXenia
What is the difference between demons and Fey since Sylvia apparently counts as Fey now? Because I thought she would always be under the label of "Demon"
Steve Barbour
Griffmiss from the forums, who is developing the LLM based rune reduction software.
MadGod
Who got [Intermediate Arithmancy] if not Natalie?
