Brent Stinebaker
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II-29 Ripple
🕑 Added 2025-06-24 18:04:22 +0000 UTCThe system remembers everything that we do. It remembers, and then it uses it to reward or punish us. Sometimes both at the same time.
“The system covets strife.”
This phrase has been spoken by Pathbearers in a variety of ways, but this statement might be more than just a pithy aphorism and rather a central thesis for integrated existence. And the more accurate term is that the system “sows” strife with more strife. For the quests are always a result of what we do, and often are triggered by earlier conflicts and deeds. And regardless of who wins or loses, the result is always the same.
Evolution. Change. Not specifically for a Pathbearer, but the entire world—or even entire dimensions. In this sense, we might be causing multiple “Skill Evolutions” for the system itself through our own deeds, making it stronger, making its magical resonance evermore powerful. And so, the system not only remembers, but it also fixates. It fixates on certain people who nourish it the most. Who stress it. Who give it the most novel experiences, perhaps. But the system does show its favor, and those it chooses as beloved often find themselves facing great power and treachery at the same time.
And though some people call the system’s paracausal resonance “Karma,” I would argue this term does not fit at all. Karma is about being rewarded for good deeds, and being cursed for doing bad ones. But the system cares little for morality—it simply wants struggle and metamorphosis. It is not uncommon for noble heroes to find themselves a target in a quest because of their kindness and power—because their actions have rippled outward and affected so many others, that it has also impacted someone else’s schemes or rise to power. And so the system sets a collision course between the noble and vile, uncaring of who wins. Because whatever the case, things will change. The people will change or die, or both. And the world will change in turn.
And ultimately, virtue and cruelty come second to power. The power to change. The power to influence. The power to ascend. This is why the system so often advances one’s skills as a reward and offers new instruments of war. Because there will always be another battle—with spiking frequency as one climbs the Tiers of Ascension.
But even power is not enough in the end, for Legendary Pathbearers find themselves beset most of all—with hundreds of quests bound to them, their very beings a nexus of inevitable conflict for many others. Power invites challenge. Power inflicts change. And power begets power. Until another takes it from you.
Thus, to live is to war in this age, and none shall avoid the whetstone of inevitable strife and bloodshed lest death take them first. There is no escape. Not immortality. Not power. Not virtue or cruelty.
All is war.
-Conflict Resonance (Rejected research paper written on the field of System-Metaphysis at Phoenix Academy)
II-29
Ripple
Shiv and Uva spent a little bit longer talking with Can Hu. In that time, Shiv found out that the automaton had, surprisingly, been cast down the same chasm he did all those weeks ago. Can Hu’s fall took place a long time before Blackedge was a thing, shot from the sky by a Lone Star Pathbearer who chased him across the border.
It was a testament to Can Hu’s adamantine frame and additional armor that he survived, but the fall broke him for a long time and damaged things deeper than the automaton’s outer shell. Can Hu said the worst part was taking years to rebuild and function, laying in the dirt in a ruin made from his body, aware but unable to function.
The system’s hand was cold, cruel, and absolute. And it asserted one thing upon Shiv: he never wanted to sign a contract with anyone. He never wanted to have one of his skills shattered and see his soul inflicted with the harm visited upon Can Hu. What the Legacy Empire did to the Penitents was beyond despicable.
“Yet, I was the traitor,” Can Hu mused.
After a few more hours of conversation fueled by good tea and better soup, Shiv and Uva bid Can Hu farewell and ventured back out into Weave. As they walked the barren, withered undercity, Shiv cast a final glance at that peculiar warehouse, a place reforged and rebuilt by the Penitent’s own hand. He wondered what the future might bring for both of them.
“I am not sure about this,” Uva said to him as they rose into the air, pulled by Shiv’s gravitic field.
She, too, was looking at the warehouse, but Shiv could feel an apprehension in her mind: a worry that was pulled in three directions.
The first was of Shiv—she didn’t fully know about his necromantic weakness. And in his defense, he hadn’t known either. The second was of Can Hu—she didn’t know the automaton that well. They were merely passers-by in each other’s lives. Acquaintances, and nothing more, their relationship little more than interesting conversations while in the museum. Now, however, both Shiv and the former Penitent were connected—connected because she took her new lover to a place where she liked to frequent, and so the system arranged for a most opportune and fated intersection of Pathbearers.
And that came to the third problem: Can Hu was broken and barely able to support its own weight, and now it wanted to be armor for Shiv. Even if Can Hu could integrate itself with Shiv’s bone armor, there was still much at risk, and something faintly horrific about it all.
“Give him a chance,” Shiv said. He felt sympathy towards the machine. He wasn’t too confident about what Can Hu could offer either. “We can let him try. This is the right thing.”
“I’m fine with him trying,” Uva said, “but this armor—you need reliable armor, Shiv. Something that will not fail you against an enemy like the Gate Lord. Do not make yourself vulnerable because of sentiment. Because you have a good heart. The system does not care for such things.” She shuddered. “That, and I fear for my own fate should you be struck with Necromancy.”
“I got half a mind to hang a sign on my chest that tells the people I’m fighting about how Necromancy makes me explode,” Shiv said sarcastically. “That might make them reconsider.”
“More like a fool will try because you told him not to,” Uva said, rolling her eyes.
Shiv nodded. “Yeah, you’re right, there are probably plenty of people who don’t care if they live or die. They just want to kill the other bastard first. Then, they’ll die happy anyway.”
“I know—I’m looking at one such bastard.” Her eyes glinted with amusement.
Shiv just snorted. “Yeah, well, unlike most people, I come back, and I come back stronger.”
He shook his head as he thought about tonight’s meeting. There was something here—something, something that was stronger than fate. The hand of the system was at work, and more than that, Shiv wanted to see what a Penitent Chassis was capable of.
But enough of that now. They were Pathbearers, so the night was forever young. Shiv eyed Uva. “Hey, Uva. You, uh, wanna go for a nightcap?”
She eyed him. “Tea wasn’t enough for you?”
“Well, not really. It was good tea, but… I’m thinking a little wine. And you can have some dessert. Wine and dessert?”
“Oh? Do you have a place in mind?”
“A cozy, messy, but very comfortable apartment sounds nice. That, and I don’t think Adam would appreciate us barging in at my place.”
Uva winced. “I still need to put in a work order for the damages… Composer, we’ve been busy.”
“Just tell maintenance the bedroom was damaged due to hunger-related reasons,” Shiv said, grinning. “Keep it vague, you know.”
Uva failed to hold back a laugh. “Well. I am getting hungry again. We best get back before something public gets broken.”
“That’ll be a real tragedy.”
***
“Like this?” Uva asked as she slowly peeled the egg off the pan.
“Yeah, just like that,” Shiv said, holding her hand. He was using his gravitic field to guide her; his expression was one of absolute concentration. The egg needed to be fried just right. He shifted the temperature dial for the mana cooker, and he listened to the crackle of the egg skin. The Chef Unwavering told him what he needed to hear, told him how long this thing needed to burn, in another second.
A heavy series of knocks rattled Uva’s front door.
Shiv’s focus didn’t break, but Uva looked away. He flipped the egg with her hand and chuckled. “There. You did it.”
She hummed. “Everything but finishing.”
“It’s all right,” Shiv said. “We’ll try this again, uninterrupted next time.”
Her agreement came in the form of a kiss on the underside of his jaw. He had a smile as he placed the finished egg on a plate and began to apply the final touches. “More sauces…” Shiv muttered to himself. ‘She likes a bit of spice. I want something plain…”
As Uva got to the door, she peered out, muttering something about how she was going to rip Ikki’s mind out if the damn girl was bothering her so early in the morning. But then she froze and looked at Shiv. “It’s Adam.”
Shiv frowned, then shrugged. “Well, I guess I’ll get started on another egg.”
Uva huffed. “I guess you should.”
She opened the door and regarded the Young Lord with folded arms. “Hero Adam,” she said, “what brings you to my place this early in the morning?”
It was then Shiv noticed something before her—his Biomancy swept out through her open door, the wards no longer in effect. He felt Adam’s body—sensed the minor wounds lining the man’s face—and briefly stopped cooking.
At this point, Uva reacted as well. She blinked, did a double-take, and her faintly amused expression turned to one of stark concern. “Adam, what happened to you? Why are you…?”
“It’s fine, I’m fine,” Adam said, staggering in with a groan.
Shiv studied the Young Lord as he dragged himself into the apartment like someone who just lost a bar fight. The man’s left eye was practically swollen shut, his nose a little broken, one of his teeth was loose, and he had something of a slight concussion. More than that, there was blood all over his armor. Not his blood, though—a Weaver’s blood.
“Adam,” Shiv said, “please don’t tell me you killed someone.”
“No, no. I merely took their limbs off and left them for the proper authorities.” Adam moaned as he fell into a chair at the dining table. “Do you have any more eggs? I could use an egg. I could use all the eggs in the world. So bloody hungry.”
“Making one just for you right now,” Shiv replied. “So? What’s going on? Everyone else all right?”
“They’re fine—they’re being entertained by Valor,” Adam said. “He took them off to… I don’t know what they’re doing. Show them the sights, I guess. Regale them with how great he is, I suppose. I managed to secure lodgings for our three guests in a nice, local hotel. Apparently, the people recognized me from the local news, and they let my guests stay for free. At least for a few nights. I won’t impose on them for long. I will see them paid. A good service does not beget eternal charity.”
“Very noble,” Uva said. She winced at the condition of Adam’s face. “I’ll get you some ice first. Shiv? Healing?”
“Sure,” Shiv said, and looked at Adam. The Young Lord looked like he wanted to talk. “I’ll hit you with a wyrm once your egg is done.”
Adam nodded his thanks. “I… I decided to clear my mind last night. I had to fly around and think about things.”
“And how’d that go?” Shiv asked.
“Not particularly well for the thinking part,” Adam admitted. “However, I did manage to talk an automaton out of jumping off a building. Actually, about that—Uva, did you know that this city has a terrible problem in which weaveresses of sufficient societal importance can impose their on poor laborers?”
Uva blinked. “I… these things have been known to happen at times.”
“Well, it happened here! A poor fool had lost its job because it slightly inconvenienced the a Weaveress of the local zoning council or some such, and now it cannot afford any parts, or even energy to survive. I have to spot it a few shards, and after I listened to the bot’s heartache, I promised the automaton I would bring this to the highest authority I know.”
“And yes,” Uva said with a slight sigh, “I will look into the problem.”
Adam stared at her like she was stupid. “Uva, I respect you, but you are not the highest authority I know. I am going to complain directly to the Composer herself.”
The Umbral reacted like she just saw a pig turn back into a man. “I do not think this is wise, Adam. The Cmposer has many things she needs to concern herself with. This is a trifling issue.”
“A man nearly threw himself off a building! Well, not a man—a bot. But it’s the same thing.” Adam tabbed the table with his fist to declare his outrage. “It is preposterous to steal someone’s job from them at the slightest offense. It is downright vile—that is unworthy of being a Pathbearer.”
Both Uva and Shiv stared at him.
“What?
“Nothing,” Shiv said. “You’re, uh, quite the guy, Adam.”
The Young Lord wriggled his busted nose. “Well, that wasn’t the end of the night. After that, I decided to fly over a park, because that might be more peaceful there for my senses. To my horror, I came upon a serial killer.”
“What?” Shiv said, suddenly surprised. Uva was leaning in as well.
Adam sneered at the recent memory. “Yes, apparently your, your local guards—whatever they’re called…”
“Framework,” Uva said.
“Yes, well, they were hunting this person for a while, but I found them accidentally. They had a murder-lair in Center Point Park?”
Uva blinked. “You found a serial killer’s hideout at Center Point Park?”
The Young Lord didn’t look like he believed it himself. “Yes. They apparently created a small dimension under one of the lakes, and they would pop out, jump across the city, capture someone, and then bring them back to drown them. I found so many bodies in the hideout…” Adam shuddered. “It was horrible. But I was drawn in by the sound of a screaming child! The weaver was about to drown a child! Do you believe this?”
“No,” Shiv said. “You just… stumbled upon a serial killer?”
“I didn’t stumble upon them—my senses picked them up,” Adam said, sounding offended. “I didn’t mean to go hunting for a serial killer. They just happened to be there, and I just happened to notice something was odd as I faintly heard a child’s cries. I admit it was hasty and foolish of me to dive in alone, but the monster was trying to drown a child, and I couldn’t let that happen. So I descended and ended up in a fight with the killer. He tried to jump, but I intercepted his spatial magic and then… well, I got into a fight with them.”
Adam gestured at his face and grimaced. “I didn’t expect their Physicality to be that bloody high,” he said, sighing. “Nor did I expect their Toughness to let them take so many blows, but thankfully they weren’t very good at fighting. And after I got my bearings—and my helmet back, I managed to shoot off their limbs—all of them. After that, I left them to the local authorities.”
He paused. “They called this one the… the Drowner or something.”
“The Drowner! You caught the Drowner!” Uva said, her voice high with disbelief. “Adam, that’s… the Drowner’s case was cold. It’s been cold for years. And you caught him!” The normally reserved Psychomancer threw her head back and laughed. “You… you ridiculous man!”
Adam smirked. “As well, even if I didn’t manage to get much thinking done, I… I at least did some good.”
“Speaking of which,” Shiv finished with the egg and cast a Woundeater at the Young Lord’s face. Adam flinched, but a moment later his wounds were gone. After a moment, Shiv produced one of his old bodies and bestowed the injuries onto the corpse. Adam flinched as the body instantly took on his recent wounds.
“The way your magic works unnerves me,” Adam muttered.
“A lot of things about me unnerves you,” Shiv replied.
Adam considered Shiv’s words for a moment, and then shrugged in agreement.
The three of them chatted on for a while as she finished preparing all their meals. As they ate, Adam let out a groan. “I hate how good this is getting. I hate how good it is. I hate how it boosts my Physicality. I hate how it refreshes me. And I hate the fact that you have overshadowed even the memory of my childhood meals.” The Young Lord let out a deep sigh. “Chef Monsur—he did the best that he could. He was Master chef too. And the entire kitchen staff. So why…?” Adam said, glaring Shiv, “why are you so good at this?”
“How is this my fault?” Shiv asked.
Adam bristled. “Stop being so bloody good. Stop getting Master-Tier Skills. And Unique Skills! And Feats!”
Shiv chuckled. “You’re still stuck on that.”
Adam’s eyes darkened. “Yes, I think I will always be stuck on that. So long as you continue being a monster, I’m always going to be bothered.”
Shiv leaned in closer. “Would it make you feel better if I let you take a few swings?”
“No,” Adam spat. “Because slamming my fist against you is like slamming my fists against an adamantine mountain, you horrible, horrible cockroach creature of a man.”
“Just keep eating, Young Lord,” Shiv said, enjoying the moment. “You can do all the complaining you want to later.”
“Fine,” Adam said. He hesitated, as if he wanted to say something to Shiv, but he aggressively attacked the food on his plate instead. After a few bites, he paused, looked at Shiv, and grimaced. “There’s one more thing I hate,” Adam confessed, letting out a sharp exhalation of stress. “You’re… one of the few people I can actually rely on. Heather and Tran—they told me in detail about what they’d gone through, what you did to save them, and they won’t go back to the gate. They’re going to stay here until the path is bloody clear. Or…” Adam opened his hands as though pleading to an invisible god to deliver him from this madness. “I don’t know. All I know is that they are spent—mentally, spiritually, physically. The Inquisition hurt them bad.”
“Yeah,” Shiv replied. He shook his head as he felt a pang of slight regret. “I could have been better to them myself, but—”
“But nothing, Shiv. I can’t blame you for anything. I can’t keep blaming you for everything. I can’t… I just can’t…” The Young Lord repeated, his open hand closing into a fist as a look of determination and concentration came over him. “I can’t. It isn’t your fault.”
Shiv stared at Adam, and Uva had a fascinated expression. “It’s not your fault. That was as far as I got yesterday while I was thinking, before I was interrupted by the other things. That… that was the thought in my head: It’s not Shiv’s fault. I want to blame you. I’m so used to blaming you in my mind. Even when it wasn’t your fault before. But it was easy, because you weren’t there. Everything that went wrong. Shiv’s fault. The terrible ritual. My terrible life.”
Adam looked off in the distance, his misery written plain on his face. “And now, here you are. Here I am. Eating the breakfast you made. And you sit here, and you listen to me rant and whine, and you promise me over and over again. ‘We’re going to get them, Adam. We’re going to deal with them. We’re going to get the bastards.’ Just you, and Valor, and Uva, the other Umbrals… and no one else. No one else seems to want to care. No one else. In fact, the entire world’s gone mad. Everyone else… the Republic… the Republic is tearing into itself.” Adam practically shouted that last bit. “It’s absurd. Havel. The Inquisition. My father. It’s all madness.”
“Yep,” Shiv said. “I won’t lie, we’re speeding towards a damned mess. But I think we can find the other side. I like our odds. I can’t die. You can find serial killers without trying. Uva can hide an entire Greater Demon in her mind. And Valor’s got a plan for the Animancy Core. Things seem hard sometimes, but I think we’ll find a way. I think we’ll figure this thing out.”
Adam eyed Shiv, then nodded. “And that’s another thing I hate. Nothing shakes you.”
“Why?” Shiv asked softly.
“I don’t know why. Why the world had to be this way. It would have been just so much simpler if…” Adam took in a breath. “It’s not your fault. It’s Havel’s and Sullain’s. The Inquisition, too. And there are things that my father hadn’t told me about. About the war, about everything. Starhawk’s Perch being so important. We don’t even know why it’s important. I just thought it was a castle that I grew up in. I just thought… I thought so many things. But it was all just fucking… I don’t know anything anymore.”
A rough silence settled over the three.
“Shiv… I, uh…” Adam swallowed. “I…”
“What?” Shiv prompted. “It’s okay, Adam. You don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to.”
Adam stared at Shiv, and steeled himself, as if a man preparing to rip an arrow out of his flesh. “I’m sorry.”
“What?” Shiv said—he never believed those words would ever come from Adam.
“I… I don’t… I don’t have the strength yet. I don’t think, I don’t know if I can forgive you yet. I know I should. I know it’s not your fault now. Every day I learn that a little bit more, but I just don’t have it.” Adam paused. “I had this memory as a child, my mother’s blood-red hair.” He licked his lips. “It’s just a memory. I couldn’t have been old at all. There’s nothing else. It’s my first memory, and then it’s gone. But with memory, there were feelings, feelings that I cling to, like it hurts, and there’s a grief.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m rambling again.”
“It’s okay,” Shiv said. “I…I don’t have any memories like that. I don’t know what to say.”
“I do,” Uva said quietly. She reached over and placed a hand on Adam’s. “I know this wound. I can remember my mother’s smell. Remember the last hug I ever gave her as she stepped out and told me to guard my sisters. It is a precious wound.”
Adam looked at her, swallowed hard, and just nodded. He finished the final bite of his egg and placed his fork down on the table. For a few minutes, no one felt the urge to say anything. “I think… I think I want to wash the dishes.”
“Holy shit,” Shiv muttered. “Are you okay, Adam? No one volunteers to wash the dishes.”
“I think I got most of your concussion with that Woundeater—”
“Oh, get tainted you bastard.” Adam chucked his fork at Shiv’s face, which bounced off his face.
Uva caught it before it could strike the floor, giggling slightly. “Ah,” she sighed. “Indeed, you are Adam’s Fel. Composer.” She shuddered. “That’s a horrible, horrible thought.”
“Hey, things could be worse,” Shiv said. “I could have gotten up and hugged Adam.”
“Gods, I would turn my bow on myself,” Adam said. Shiv stared at him. And slowly made to get up. “Stay away from me you ogre-shaped oaf. Uva. Stop him before I repaint your walls with my brain.”
“Come get your hug, Adam,” Shiv said.
“I’ll do it! It’ll put an arrow through my own eye.”
“I’ll just use my Woundeater to fix you if you do,” Shiv laughed.
“Uva! Stop him!”
Adam got out of his seat and fled across the room. Shiv stomped after. Uva sat at the table, and struggled to contain her quiet laughter.
***
The three of them simply enjoyed each other’s company. After a while, Shiv told Adam about their encounter with Can Hu, and as he elaborated on what they experienced—the automaton’s offer and intentions—Adam looked uneasy.
“Shiv, I understand that the system moves in very, very weird ways, but I don’t know, does this seem a little too contrived for you?”
“Maybe,” Shiv said, “but I don’t see an angle if you’re thinking this is a trap or something.”
“No, it’s just… there are many desperate people in the world. It is not the first one to see his skills broken. Many Pathbearers prepared to die fighting with blade in hand and a curse on their lips, rather than in bed waiting for death to take them, waiting to perish like a mortal. From what you say, this automaton, it was once a mighty warrior, but now, now it’s broken.”
Shiv nodded. “Can Hu said it’s going to fuse itself into my bone armor and serve in place of a natural Master-Tier armor.”
Adam shook his head. “Yes, and that sounds like madness. Only a madman.” Adam looked Shiv up and down, and then his expression changed into one of faux acceptance. “You know what, Shiv? Maybe this is perfect for you. A mad set of automaton armor for a mad, mad man.”
Shiv grunted. “Well, we’ll see how he delivers in about two days.”
“Well, in the meantime, we should still continue searching for a set of armor,” Adam said. “I spotted some merchants yesterday while I was flying around. We can start there.”
“I could pull my contacts as well,” Uva said. “It’s best to have multiple options.”
Shiv regarded the two. It seemed they’d already written off Can Hu. But he had a feeling this wasn’t over.
“I have also been thinking,” Uva began, regarding the two. “I need to advance my physical skills. I have neglected my Physicality and Toughness far too much, and my recent battles have shown the folly of doing so. At the same time, both of you could get used to facing a Psychomancers in battle.”
“Yes,” Adam said. “We should do more training together. Shiv really needs it. Mainly to spare fragile Pathlesss and non-martials his clumsy wrath.”
Shiv winced. “Yeah. Alright. I deserved that. Valor should probably be there too.”
“Indeed,” Adam said. “I have a feeling the bloody skull is using me to simplify his labor, but… He does give good insight. And decent conversation at times.”
“And to think this relationship started off with Valor asking me to put him through your eye,” Shiv grinned.
“Oh, believe me, sometimes that’s still the case,” Adam sneered. “So. Practice?”
“Practice,” Uva agreed.
“Practice,” Shiv said, cracking his fingers.
***
Stealth > 35
Shiv’s training remained mostly within the realm of control, tactics, and caution. Adam drilled him on tactics, and Uva supplemented with what she knew. They both had him move carefully through the woods, trying to have him hide himself, using his stolen Umbral Shadowalker skill to get from place to place without someone noticing.
Adam also nodded some of Shiv’s flaws.
“Your Awareness is… well, it’s frankly shit,” Adam said, as they chewed on some fried roden skewers during a break. Shiv nodded along, agreeing generally with the assessment. “You should have a much better awareness skill, considering how often we get ambushed. And we will get ambushed even more often as time goes on.”
Adam smirked. “But Stealth… that is a good thing for you to develop. For someone so tough, fast, and destructive, I think what you should focus on next is to supplement your powerful physique and Biomancy is a bit more subtlety. After all, the only thing more terrifying than the monster is the monster you don’t see.”
“I had a bit more success being stealthy than being a spy,” Shiv replied, thinking about his little escapades among the containers back in the gate. “It was fun, to some extent.”
“By fun, you mean leaving flayed bits of skin around, butchering people like a beast in the middle of the night?” Adam asked.
“Something like that,” Shiv grunted.
“Well. It will be bloody terrifying for everyone else then.”
“That sounds wonderful for us,” Uva said. She pressed her lips together. “More ambush drills for Shiv?”
“Yes. Administered by me. You go back to dragging that log, Sister Uva.” Uva frowned at Adam. “Oh, yes,” the Young Lord chuckled. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to get out for more Physicality training. I have eyes and ears everywhere—”
Adam blinked. “Wait? Where are we?”
Shiv sighed. “Uva. Give him his memory back. He’s right.”
The Umbral pouted. “I hate Physicality training.”
“Yeah, well, you’re probably going to learn to love it when we move on to Toughness. For what it’s worth, I like watching you drag a tree.”
“Why is Uva dragging a tree?” Adam said, confused.
“Uva,” Shiv grunted.
“Fine,” she said.
Adam blinked and shook his head. “Dammit, Uva. Not again. I need to get a bloody Magical Resistance enchantment for this armor.”
***
Stealth > 37
Practical Metabiology > 20
As they finished with their physical and tactical training, they all moved on to their personal business. Uva returned to duty while Adam departed to get some Magical Resistance enchanted on his armor. Shiv meanwhile, spent some time on the Odes and departed for Cradle when he was finished.
There, he showed Dven his Master-Tier Biomancy, the automaton seemed ecstatic. “A rare evolution! Even for one of the First Blood. She regarded Shiv. “This is exactly what I hoped for.”
“Is it?” Shiv replied. “I just kind of bumbled into the evolution.”
“Incorrect,” Dven declared. “It was shaped from your experiences and actions. You wound yourself constantly, and you wound others, and you break things, and your main desire while trying to save your allies cemented the change. Your Biomancy is veered towards the vulgar and offensive, towards the harming and deforming. But this is good. This means you’ll be able to shape things on a more fundamental level, and that might be just what we need to deal with the plagues that are affecting us. Your Practical Metabiology, where is it at?”
“Twenty.”
“Ah. You need to dedicate more time to study.”
“Well, I’ll do that once people stop trying to kill me.”
“You should do that while people are trying to kill you. Can’t that accelerate the growth?”
Shiv frowned. “No. I’m not dying because Practical Metabiology. I’m dying because I’m not defending myself while reading. Odds are, I’ll just develop a speed reading skill instead.”
The automaton considered the information. “Interesting. So that is how your Biomancy develops so quickly. Failure states.”
“Yeah,” Shiv said. “I gave myself cancers, I ripped another person open, and I clashed against powerful biomancers. I killed a vampire recently.” He looked at her. “I, uh, think I got his heart from a Master-Tier Biomancer.”
He reached into his cloak and pulled out a vampire’s still-beating heart. Shiv blinked in surprise.
The automata Biomancer took the heart from him and examined it for a moment. “Ah, yes, the lineage core. You’ve brought us back a unique specimen. I will include this among the other samples. Nonetheless, there is something I need you to focus on: I want you to see if you can catalog and memorize injuries.”
“What do you mean?” Shiv asked.
Dven explained. “Your Woundeaters, they contain crystallizations of wounds inflicted upon the body, correct?”
“Yeah?”
“Then, I believe you can shape one wound into another—or perhaps create a specific damage state through mana alone. If you can master this, it should allow you accelerated insight into the body architecture. It should also make you theoretically skilled at surgery, but that is unnecessary with your current Skill Evolution. Regardless, the goal here is to move from transference to pure creation. You are cutting and moving. But there is more for than that. The body is a garden, and you have only begun to water yours.”
Shiv nodded slowly. He vaguely got what she was talking about. “I’ll see if I can do that, but it’ll take some focus.”
“All things take focus. And considering how willing you are to suffer for success, I think you’ll find this quite easy. In fact, you can start now,” Dven said.
Shiv blinked. “Right now? You want me to do this right in front of you? On the nice, clean floors?”
“That is no issue,” Dven replied. “We will be able to clean this very easily. You are not the only Biomancer here, Master Shiv.”
Shiv paused. “Eh, forget about that sometimes.
“You warrior types often do. Now, start with—” Shiv opened his throat. “Oh, I suppose that’s one point.”
He gurgled, and then he fed the cut to a Woundeater. The worm danced atop the palm of his hand, and a crystallized wound burned at its core, shimmering in sigils of bright crimson.
“Ah, quite the spell,” Dven said. “Now, let’s see if you can recreate that structure without inflicting a wound on yourself first. If you can do that, perhaps we can influence your next skill evolution.”
“I don’t think that’s going to be anytime soon,” Shiv replied.
“Perhaps. Or perhaps not. The system favors you, Shiv. It has its eye on you, and I expect you to be using this magical lore more and more. Why, perhaps even a Skill Fusion might be in your future, and that might change everything about you once more.”
Shiv considered that. “All right then, let’s see if I can make a Recipe of Wounds.”
As he thought in those terms, the crystallized wound held within the spell began to glimmer faintly white, as if an ingredient for The Chef Unwavering. But then it faded, and Shiv felt a faint inspiration brush him and depart before fully settling in.
Despite trying several more times, the feeling never quite came back that day.
Practical Metabiology > 21
Woundeater > 59
***
Two more days passed, according to this pace and schedule: breakfast in the morning, followed by tactical training out in the wilderness; some quick lunch, then back to Weave for academics and Biomancy; then dinner and off time. Ikki and the rest of Uva’s team also joined in, while Valor attended to watch for a while, but was resummoned suddenly by the Composer for whatever reason.
By late night, Adam, Uva, and Shiv usually ventured across the city, examining new places they hadn’t been. Adam showed them the park where he found the Drowner, and true to his word, an entire section of the park was sealed and pending further investigation. To Adam’s surprise, the guards of Framework recognized him and asked for his autograph—which the Young Lord was more than happy to give.
It was in the middle of that second day when they were summoned by the Composer. At first, Shiv had expected a conversation about the Jealousy and his experiences in Gate Theborn. But as he arrived and discovered Valor already there—locked in tense, heated conversation with the composer—he understood something was different.
Something was wrong.
“And you found out just recently? Are you sure about this?” Valor demanded. Shiv heard the heat in the Legendary Pathbearer’s voice as he approached the innermost depths of Symposium.
“Yes,” the Composer said, her voice high with tension yet certain, like silk hiding iron. “One of my Trapdoor Shadow Cells confirmed it. They saw the rogue dragon-knights moving fast, carrying with them members of Aviary. They’re running. And they’re carrying a fragment of your soul with them. Worse, they’re on their way to Gate Theborn. I believe they’re going to trade your soul fragment to Compact for passage to the surface.”
As Shiv, Uva, and Adam arrived, the goddess turned to greet them with a severe expression on her face. “Cherished Sister. Exalted Guests. I owe you congratulations on bringing an intact Jealousy back as a prize, but I fear there is another task upon us already—another problem that might make matters desperate for us all.”
“What’s wrong?” Shiv said, looking at Valor. “You found a piece of Valor, right? Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Not when it’s held by rogue dragon-knights and being used as a bribe for a gate,” Valor spat. “Gate Theborn. The closest route to the surface.”
“And it is not only this,” the Composer continued. “Things are happening all across the Abyss. Entire Aviary cells seem to be fleeing all Abyssal nation territories, trying to escape however they can. The Necrotechs managed to purge most of their hidden vermin, but the Elders of the First Blood—poor as my relationships with them have always been—have informed me that their own Aviary spies have fled and left nothing behind. Something major is coming.”
“A new war?” Valor asked.
“Now, no,” the Composer replied. “It shouldn’t be a war of the Five Faiths. Things aren’t steady or peaceful between us, even in the best of times, but we have no capacity to wage war like before—not right now, nor do we have the want. The wounds are still too fresh.”
“But what else could it be?” Valor pressed.
“I suspect it has something to do with the surface,” the Composer said, looking at Shiv and Adam as she spoke. “Because Sullain has overdrawn his hand, and someone has delayed the arrival of his weapon. Regardless, the fragment changes everything again. Everything. The system!” the Composer spat, venom in her words and eyes. “All it wants is for us to struggle and bleed. Another quest—and so soon.”
“Quest?” Adam asked.
“Ah, Hero Adam, allow me to congratulate you on your advancement.”
Adam squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. “It honors me to be congratulated by a goddess as magnificent as you, Composer.”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, the cComposer laughed lightly, hiding her mouth with a hand. “Alas,” she continued, “you are called here today to deal with an extreme circumstance. Here. Behold with your own eyes. Behold what is at stake—and what rewards there are to win.” She held out her hand, and within the space of her massive fingers formed a sphere of gold—a sphere containing the glowing magic of a new quest. “This quest is for everyone present. You as well, Cherished Sister Uva. You, and a select group of others.”
Shiv hesitated before he reached into the gold. As he did, the system reached into his mind, and revealed to him a new threat on the horizon.
Quest Gained: Intercept the Outcast Descender Dragon-Knights and their new Aviary allies before they can sell off the right hand of Valor Thann to Compact and re-open Gate Theborn
Reward: +10 Levels to a Chosen Skill; Evolve an [Existing Skill] to Adept-Tier; [Hidden] Master-Tier Item; The Right Hand of Valor Thann
Failure: Compact begins a war with Weave. Gate Lord Confriga regains favor in the eyes of Lord Scorn and is given a major Necromantic effigy. Guardshead’s Leu’s position within the gate will become compromised by Aviary. Gate Theborn’s defenses will be significantly bolstered. A mana storm will crash down on Blackedge and shroud the sky and protect Vicar Sullain from the light-curse.
“Shit,” Shiv muttered.
“Shit,” Adam hissed.
“Indeed,” Valor sighed. “My fragment… held by dragon-knights… This… this will not be easy.”
Comments
Will
The failure consequences are like 10 times worse than the rewards. It doesn't even feel worth the risk to accept that quest. I would have just tried to stop them without the quest.
Moses
More war more chaos MORE!!!!
Brent Stinebaker
TTF being edited
