Edwin M. Griffiths
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The Newt and Demon - Book 4 Chapters 43,44,45
🕑 Added 2023-10-13 11:00:04 +0000 UTCChapter 43
The Garden Party
Sarisa and Rowan had worked closely with Xam to get the garden party going. They organized the catering, which was easy enough, but also decorated the area. A large table dominated the center of the space. Magical lights hung from the iron fence. There was even a Broken Tusker playing a strange, violin-like instrument at the far end of the manor’s garden. Like most things in the town, the music was rough and raucous. The people set to gather there were arriving as a trickle, moving into the space as the sun dipped lower in the sky.
The guest who stuck out among everyone was Bilgrob.That wasn’t a surprise. If anyone wanted to talk to the Priest of Spit, they needed a ladder. Fortunately, the Ogre was kind enough to kneel when someone spoke to him.
“You know the worst part about this stuff?” Tresk asked, muttering from Theo’s side. She seemed to want to be closer to him recently. He almost regretted letting those feelings enter his mind for the first time since he arrived. It bled through. “You gotta be all happy. Smile at everyone and whatever.”
“We don’t have enough gatherings like this.” Theo looked over at the crowd. He spotted Salire talking with Fenian.
“Jealousy?” Tresk asked. “Really!? Please don’t tell me you like Salire. What about old Tresk? Am I chopped… liver? Why is that saying in my head?”
“That’s an Earth saying. I am jealous. Because he’s going to steal away my future apprentice. Lure her in the same way he got Azrug.”
“Where is that spiky little bastard, anyway?”
“The administrative reports say he’s taken time off to level his other cores.”
Tresk wrapped her arms around Theo’s waist. It was all she could manage, since the top of her head barely came up to his belly button. “What day is it?”
“The 17th.”
“We got time, but we’ll have to plan the next festival.”
The southlands of Qavell celebrated at least one festival per season. Since each season was 70 days long, that left little time for celebrations. This little garden party was the perfect thing to break those long periods of nothing up. After seeing the way the guests talked with each other, all having a good time, he was interested in doing this more often. Tresk remained as an ornament while they mingled among the crowd. Sarisa kept the party as invitation-only, making it more manageable to talk.
The thing that excited Theo the most was that no one expected him to give a speech. He never captured the spirit of things when they forced him up on a podium. Instead, it was just a pleasant gathering with Xam’s amazing cooking. With the amount of mead the town imported from Rivers and Daub, the alchemist knew the brewers were getting rich.
Zarali was there with Xol’sa. The priestess had many theories about how she could create Drogramathi cores using the temple, but the wizard was interested in giving Theo a hard time. With his health improving, he went back to being the mother hen of magic. The alchemist wouldn’t blame him, though. There was a serious lack of mages in town, and it was only getting worse. The split between cores was weighed heavily out of favor for magic-users.
Much of Theo’s time at the party was spent being lectured by Xol’sa on the value of wizards. The alchemist’s prior experience with magic-users told a different tale, though. Uharis, as far as anyone knew, was still on the moon. Without his Burning Eye core, it was unlikely he’d return to the planet. But there was always that chance.
“Not to intrude,” Bilgrob said, approaching the conversation. It was hard for him to not intrude. He was massive. His eyes pierced Xol’sa for a long time before he continued. “I can feel the scars on your soul healing, Elf. I’m sorry we haven’t introduced ourselves yet.”
“You’re the talk of the town,” Xol’sa said, holding his mug up to toast the Ogre.
“The alchemist did a fine job patching your soul up,” Bilgrob said. Theo could sense the caution in his voice, although his intuition was barely a whisper. “I hate for this to be the first thing I say to you, but there are lingering problems.”
Zarali pulled Xol’sa close, a look of concern painting her face. Bilgrob sat on the ground, trying his best to be at eye-level with everyone. Tresk would have to sit on Theo’s shoulders to accomplish that, but she still went on her tippy-toes.
“What problems?”
“May I?” Bilgrob asked, a mote of green mana forming in his hand.
Xol’sa shared a look with Zarali. The Drogramathi Priestess nodded nervously.
The Ogre closed his eyes, then the ball of energy rushed into Xol’sa’s chest. He let out a surprised gasp, but there seemed to be no negative effects. Bilgrob mumbled something to himself, nodding along. Theo put together that the priest was looking at something within the elf, like a doctor looking over a report. When his eyes finally snapped open, he had a confused look on his face.
“Now that is strange,” Bilgrob said, rubbing his chin. He hoisted his barrel-tankard and took a long drink. “Where are you from?”
“I don’t really know.”
“He’s part of the Bara’thier,” Zarali answered.
“A catchall term for extra-dimensional creatures. Not at all specific enough.” Bilgrob turned, nodding at Theo. “I don’t think the alchemist knows what he did for you, wizard. But your soul is having trouble adjusting to this universe. Well, nothing a few treatments from me can’t help. May I?”
“Of course.”
A pulse of green magic flowed from the Ogre, wrapping itself around Xol’sa. It soaked into his skin, the markings on the Elf’s flesh flashing sympathetically for only a moment. Then it was gone.
“What in the realms does that mean?” Xol’sa asked. “‘Rats will be more likely to bite your toes’, what did you do?”
“Ah, well,” Bilgrob started. “My patron works in strange ways. When I heal people, he leaves behind a gift.”
Theo and Tresk removed themselves from the situation before it got ugly. Xol’sa was logical enough to understand that the Ogre’s healing came at a cost. But the rest of the party didn’t seem to care about that little corner of the garden. It went on for hours. Far later into the night than the alchemist was normally comfortable staying up. His stamina bar drained as the night went on, but it was easy. He didn’t need to entertain the people there, allowing him to enjoy the night.
When people cleared out from the garden, some simply entered the manor for rest, Tresk, Theo, and Alex made their way to the bedroom. The alchemist thanked Sarisa and Rowan for an excellent party and headed straight for the Dreamwalk. The room swirled, then they were standing in a sterile room. Grated floors below them and metal walls on every side. A small table sat in the center of the room. The only door leading into the room slid open, a dark figure stepping through.
Raven black hair, cascading over pale shoulders. A figure walked into the room and Theo panicked. Injecting his will into the Dreamwalk, he sent them flying far away. Out onto the coast of South America, where trees lay on their sides. A wasteland to fight away that image. The ghostly form of the Harbinger standing over the corpses of his old squad. Temporary friends in the last breaths of a dying world.
“Don’t do that,” Theo said, balling his fists at his side.
“I didn’t do a damn thing!” Tresk shouted. “You steered us on the way in.”
Theo looked down at Yuri’s body, covered in that comfortable environmental suit. The Harbinger stood over them all, looking down with his bird-like features. The alchemist realized what had happened. But today wasn’t the day to confront old ghosts. She wasn’t even real. That was just a memory—a sad recreation from a life long dead.
“Sorry. I thought you were probing my thoughts.”
“I’m always probing your thoughts. Which is why I’d never make you relive that. Come on, dude. Who do you think I am?”
I am here, also.
“And we love you for it, Alex. You’re the best goose.”
“Thank you.”
Tresk wrapped her arms around Theo. She squeezed him tightly. “This is why we always pick a place near Broken Tusk to hang out in the Dreamwalk. He doesn’t enjoy reliving that stuff. Anyway,” She flicked her hand and the scene shifted. Back to the garden party. Bilgrob sat on the ground, the scene frozen in time. “What do you think about the Ogre guy?”
Theo took a deep breath. “He’s nice. I can’t feel any bad intentions from him.”
“Yeah, I like him. I’d never let him heal me, but he’s cool.”
Theo shook off the feelings of uncertainty. A smile spread across his face as he stooped low, scooping up Tresk and pulling her into a hug. “I’m going to work with Alex tonight. Help her with the nature aspect while I refine my new alchemy process.”
Tresk gasped for air. “An alchemy pun? While you’re crushing me?”
“Let me crush you for just a little longer.”
The Marshling groaned, but offered no further resistance. When they were done hugging it out, she ran off to fight some monsters. Her technique for the rapier was developing, even if it was slow. Theo wondered if Fenian had any genuine interest in helping her learn the blade, or if this was another one of his selfish endeavors. It hardly mattered to Tresk. She’d figure out the best way to use the weapon no matter what. And she had the perfect place to practice.
Theo made notes for his book in his administration interface while he worked with Alex. They found a pleasant spot just outside of the manor’s garden for her to practice her nature affinity abilities. He was convinced that if she understood how her powers worked she’d get an idea of how to cultivate new powers.
There was something about Belgar’s third tier process that struck Theo as strange. He considered that it might have been his insight, giving him clues for the fourth tier process. But the way the alcohol helped properties bind during the distillation process seemed strange. It felt like a temporary solution to a wider problem, almost as though he was emulating something bigger. He worked on variations of the alcohol brewing method, desperate to improve on the process.
Falling into his work was an easy way to forget all of the problems he faced. The shining jewel of the entire thing was that it was getting better. They had a handle on the undead problem, even if it was frightening to consider how close those things were. Ziz and his guys would work on the weird underwater tower soon enough. After that, they’d have a monorail heading off to Rivers and Daub, and Gronro-dir. This was the most proactive time since he took over the town.
Alex made some progress with her nature aspect, but Theo could feel she was missing something. As a growing goose, she’d need to put everything she had into learning about herself. That wasn’t a thought the alchemist expected to have, but stranger things had happened in the town. By the end of the Dreamwalk, he had made little progress on improving Belgar’s third tier distillation technique. He had seen some areas to improve, but those were mostly time-saving measures.
“Alright,” Tresk said, clapping her hands together. Theo and Alex had hardly moved from their spot. The Marshling was covered in blood and viscera. “Time to go. Dawn is approaching and… yeah, Sarisa and Rowan are coming up with tea.”
Theo shook his head. “You’re so much better at that than me.”
“Yeah. I’m a dreamer.”
The scene swirled, sending the group back into the real world. Theo sat up in his bed, looking over at Tresk. “How far away from our bodies can you see when we’re in the Dreamwalk?”
Tresk shrugged, tilting her head back and forth. “Uh… Not that far. It’s more of a general sense.”
Weird. Alex honked, removing herself from her comfortable goose box.
Breakfast was pleasant enough. Most of the guests who had attended the party—the ones who remained in the manor—were hung over. That resulted in a delightfully silent breakfast, leaving Theo to write notes on his developing instruction book. Once they were done there, Tresk went off for patrol duty. Alex and Theo had a brief meeting with Alise and the administration staff. The only thing of note was the merchant fleet departing. One boat was bound for the southern lizard islands, while two others were heading off to Tarantham.
Alise wanted to write those two boats off as losses, but it seemed too nihilistic for Theo. The Elves were confident enough in their abilities that they should come back in one piece. The administrators had to go through Tarantham law to determine the validity of the rescue. So long as they didn’t engage directly with the empire’s military, it was within the law to smuggle more members of House Wavecrest out.
After an incredibly boring meeting, Theo was excited about getting to the lab. Salire was waiting for him, bouncing excitedly in yet another floral-patterned sundress. They went over the pending orders before heading up to the lab.
“Shockingly, people don’t seem to care about the new potions,” Salire said with a shrug. She had drawn up all the new orders, but even as she tried to sell them people were interested in tier 2 potions more.
“They’re familiar with the second tier potions. We aren’t making as big of advances as normal, so that’s a problem.”
“Ah! I have an idea.” Salire seemed excited about this idea of hers. “Let’s make some attribute potions. They’re going to go nuts for those.”
Attribute potions had always been a big hit. Theo and Salire discussed the best attribute potions to start with. Unsurprisingly, that resulted in them setting up the stills to create strength, dexterity, and vigor potions. At least the budding alchemist could start with a run of the Zee-based alcohol. That left the alchemist to work on his book, reading out parts to make sure they were understandable.
“What better way to make sure the book makes sense?” Theo asked, watching as Salire did her work. While he knew she was responsible, it was best to keep an eye out. Especially as they drew closer to the brewing phase.
“No better way. No sir,” Salire said, stirring the mash. “If things don’t work out with the alchemy, you could always just make spirits.”
Theo looked up from his book. “You’d go blind drinking that. Please don’t drink our alchemy liquor.”
“I mean. I might have had a sip.” She flashed a knowing grin.
The alchemist returned to his book, adding a footnote with a warning about drinking the Zee liquor. “I might have snuck a few sips.”
“I knew you weren’t humorless, Theo.”
“Just mostly humorless.”
Late in the afternoon, Theo and Salire had created three distinct enchanted dilutions. One for each of the physical attributes. They had also made progress on the book, edging it closer to a completed state by the day. Once he was done with the body of the book, he’d pass it off to her for proofreading. It didn’t matter if there were grammatical mistakes in the text. But errors related to Drogramathi alchemy could be deadly. He aimed to plug those quickly.
The remainder of the day was consumed with brewing their new essences. As with the restoration potions they had tested before, the resulting essences were not an acceptable quality. Even with the small changes Theo made, they were missing part of the process. He hadn’t returned to Tero’gal today, and continued to put it off. It was a day of learning for Salire, and he didn’t want to miss it.
Theo clapped his hands together. “Right. Create a few of your fancy vials for me. We’ll brew a small batch before the day is done.”
Honk!
“Not you, Alex. I was talking to Salire. We’ll start with vigor.”
There was no sense in creating a small batch of these potions. People would buy anything that enhanced their attributes. Even if the potions were only one point better than the older ones, everyone would fall over themselves to get at it. As with last time, the potion was temperamental. The alchemist focused on mixing the essence, careful not to jostle the vial as he worked. It was a violent reaction, right on the edge of an explosion, but it stayed stable enough to produce a usable potion.
Theo ran his finger up the side of the fancy vial, studying the glowing yellow liquid within. He inspected the new potion, unsurprised at how superior it was to the old version.
[Greater Vigor Potion]
[Potion]
Common
Created by: Theo Spencer
Grade: Good Quality
Alignment:
Drogramath (Middling Bond)
Drink to enhance vigor.
Effect:
+19 Vigor for 2 hours.
“Significantly better,” Salire said, studying the potion. “Imagine binding it with a dilution modifier. How good would that be?”
Theo turned, smiling at his assistant. “You’re talking like an alchemist. Yeah, we should make a batch of modified tier 3 potions. I guess it’s a good time for a test. What should we be concerned about?”
As the alchemist turned away from the [Greater Vigor Potion], Salire considered the question. He got to work on the next two potions, combining the ingredients at the same time. Both reactions were more than a hair unstable, but they held together. The way to know if a reaction was horrible was the final grade on a potion.
Unsurprisingly, both the [Greater Dexterity Potion] and the [Greater Strength Potion] were copies of the [Greater Vigor Potion]. They were on the edge of making a potion that sent someone two tiers above where they were in terms of attributes. It was hard not to think about the implications of the potions.
“Are these potions dangerous, yet?” Theo asked, holding the glittering vial of red liquid in his hand.
“Ah. Forgot about your rules. Doesn’t seem too dangerous to me. Uh, what do you think?”
Theo shrugged. “I’ve already given out attribute potions that rival the best. Why not make it absurd?”
“Yeah! That’s the spirit!”
Chapter 44
Poker with the Gods
Theo didn’t know what to think about his new life as a glorified postman. He stood with Belgar in Tero’gal, watching the dead Dronon read a letter from his sister. It was written in exquisite Drogramathi with more flourishes than the blocky language deserved. The spirit’s body had gained some substance over the past few days. While counting time wasn’t a sure thing in the realm, the days would have felt more like years in here.
The same taunting screen that showed up for buildings in town claimed that Tero’gal was still Level 0. At least it had one soul. Even if that soul was a brother who wouldn’t stop fawning over his sister. Even after he died, he joined a realm belonging to the person who usurped his body. Strange things that always led somewhere even stranger.
“Well, I’m glad you’re adapting my techniques,” Belgar said. He folded the note, placing it gingerly on the worktable. “You’ve hit the experience slowdown near Level 30, yes?”
It was more of a grinding halt. The first ten levels were a breeze. Then it started getting a tad slower in the teens. Reaching Level 20 was like a punch to the gut. But people in this world often said things about Level 30. That’s where the training wheels were thrown off the bike entirely. Level 30 was where most people died.
“That’s right. Except for my [Tara’hek Core] and my [Governance Core]. Those are still leveling like I never hit a barrier.”
Belgar nodded, wisps of purple energy trailing along his brow. Something of a strange smile spread across his face, distorted by his ghostly appearance. “That soul-bond you have is strange. It’s ignoring several rules that I won’t even get into. You also hold two antithetical cores in your chest.”
Theo shook his head. Belgar’s information was old. Toru’aun and Drogramath weren’t enemies, let alone opposites. The short list of gods the alchemist had in his mind—those conspiring to change the world—had both the Dronon on board. “I think they get along now.”
Belgar scoffed. Then cleared his throat. “Perhaps. You’ll understand that some of my memories from my mortal life are incomplete. More feelings than anything. I’m… Well, I’m working on it.”
The angry Dronon spirit needed a friendly hug. Too bad his form was still immaterial. Instead, Theo gave him a hearty thumbs-up and moved on. There was work to do.
The work that needed done in Tero’gal today wasn’t about alchemy. Not directly, anyway. Zarali had a lot of theories on how she could help Salire gain a Drogramathi core, but they were all theories. Belgar’s time on Iaredin showed him as the brains of the brother-sister operation. Theo grilled him about everything, but gained almost nothing in return. When Benton finally arrived—apparently busy with some matters of death and winter—they broke for tea and scones.
Theo was mixing in honey to his tea when the ground below his feet trembled. He cast a confused look to his guests, who both shrugged. “Is that normal?”
Benton spread his hands across the table when the rumble came again, calming the chattering teaware. “Absolutely not normal.”
A twinge of recognition spread through the alchemist’s mind. It was almost like…
“Knocking,” Belgar said, finishing Theo’s thought. Then it came again.
Intuition spread out like a web, snaking through the possibilities. Theo’s mind reeled as he discarded falsehoods and embraced the possible. The knocking came again as his mind raced, then settled on a conclusion. His mind reached out, affirming the entry of a far-off being. Running outside, he spotted a sandy archway springing from the ground. Roughly hewn yellow stones formed a doorway, and a Khahari stepped through.
Before he had even fully materialized, Theo had Khahar in a bear hug. The Arbiter smiled, hugging him back. Then he looked to Benton and Belgar. With a nod, both men disappeared with a faint popping sound. “That almost didn’t work, Theo.”
“What? Banishing my tea-enjoying friends?”
Khahar simply smiled, then gestured toward the cottage. Both men assumed their spots at the table, picking up where Benton had left off in the ceremony. “These scones are quite good. No, that was simple. My planned ascension almost fell apart. Fenian nearly bungled the… Ah, well. All that is in the past, isn’t it?”
“Sneaky as ever. So, how are you allowed to come into my realm?” Theo asked.
Khahar tilted his head, smiling. “I’m the Arbiter. I can do whatever I want.”
“Really? Cause if that was the case, you would have shown up sooner.”
When Khahar laughed, it was Yuri’s old laugh. That same laugh that would boom out during drinking games. Over the cards in some musty cellar in Moscow. “You’re not wrong about that. The rules I’ve put into place are specific. Meant to tie the gods’ hands until we can sort other matters out.”
“Is this the part where you say you can’t tell me what you’re planning?”
Khahar thought about that one for a long time. He sipped his tea, busied himself with his scone, but there was something clearly different about him. His eyes didn’t dart in his head, searching through realities. He didn’t seem distant. The man was present. He was happy.
“When this world was created and seeded, it was left as a blank slate. A simple class system to get things going and nothing more. The intention was for people to rise to godhood, where they could change the system to suit the mortals. That’s the funny part about gods, isn’t it? Once they have power, they don’t want to let it go.”
“So, your plan is to change the system?”
Khahar nodded. “The other funny thing about gods… They’re quite good at plotting. What better way to protect the system they hold so dear than to create a system for the system. I’ve destroyed the first seal with my ascension. The Throne of the Arbiter is mine, and no one can dethrone me.”
“So, why not just snap your fingers and destroy the system that’s giving you trouble.”
“Ah,” Khahar said with a smile. “Then it wouldn’t be a very good system, would it? No, they’ve placed other checks on that. A kind of council that needs to form.”
A council of what, exactly? Theo couldn’t help but think of how he played into this. He had always been a pawn to Khahar, even if that wasn’t the best way to put it. “Alright. So, you want me on this council?”
“Now is not the time for that. We’re far off from where you play into this plan. But you’re playing your part well. All I can do is apologize for your forced ignorance. I cannot speak freely about this secondary system. See? That’s the genius of it. Because how does one ascend to the council if they don’t know what to look for?”
Theo let out a contented sigh, sipping on his tea. “Well, I’m happy about one thing at least. My old drinking buddy is back. Sipping tea instead of vodka, of course.”
Khahar laughed, slamming his fist on the table. The blow was measured, barely rattling the cups and spoons on the wood surface. He wiped tears from his eyes after a moment, sighing happily. “Well, I can visit more often now. I’ve designated Tero’gal as a realm to investigate. Since you have so many visitors, I can pass arbitration on you whenever I feel the need.”
“An official investigation? I’m honored.”
Khahar told the story of his ascension to the heavens. The gods were not happy when he took the throne. They went into their corners and prepared to assault Khahak, but it was too late. The Realm of the Arbiter struck first, cutting out the descenders like a cancer from the pantheons. The heavens were on fire for eons—realm time, of course—but in the end, they all fell. One-hundred gods were purged from various pantheons. But Yuri had a more startling revelation.
“They’re dead. Not like before, when a god would fall. No, I killed them. Never to rise again. Their souls were annihilated. Unlike Balkor.”
Ice ran down Theo’s back. “Almost like you’re implying that Balkor is planning a comeback.”
“It’s another one of those things I cannot reveal. But you can draw conclusions for that information. Ah, speaking of that… You should take the [Wisdom of the Soul] potion. Your realm shields you from most of the ill-effects that come with advancing in level, but Wisdom is the hardest attribute to stop. And it’s your highest attribute.”
“Noted,” Theo said. Khahar just glossed over the return of a dead necromantic god. But the pieces were there—literally. People said that Balkor was the only god to cross into the mortal realm with his heavenly body. That brought the fury of every pantheon down on him, striking the god dead over the Fallen Kingdom of Gardreth. That place had been a font of necromantic energy ever since. Then the undead spilled over onto the continent, invading Qavell and ruining most of the land. “The body of a dead god, huh? That’s what drives the undead?”
“Smart man. But I didn’t come here just to talk business,” Khahar snapped his fingers. Belgar and Benton appeared just outside of the door. A pack of playing cards appeared in his hand. “Let’s teach these guys how to play Texas Hold’em.”
Benton and Belgar were confused when they reappeared. Then slightly fearful when they spotted the god of gods sitting at Theo’s little table in his little cottage. They warmed eventually when Khahar began explaining the rules. He even summoned little chips for them to bet with, although the currency was all imagined. The alchemist’s mind was cast back to the old days.
“Somehow,” Theo said, folding another hand. “Our days of murder and mayhem seem like good times.”
“I know what you mean,” Khahar said, tapping the table. “Call.”
Benton looked uncomfortable with his hand. He shifted in his chair, then added to the pot. “Never took you as the murderous type, Theo.”
“It was a different time.” Theo watched as Khahar cleaned up the table yet again. No one could win against him, and no one was trying. It was the motion of dealing the cards and sipping tea that they were here for. Not the thrill of victory, but the warmth of company. “A different place, too.”
“I do not understand this game.” Belgar glared at the cards as they were dealt. He had to exert force to hold them in his hands, making it more difficult for him to play. Khahar had replenished his supply of chips several times. “I understand the rules, but not the purpose.”
“It’s a game of deception. And odds,” Khahar finished dealing the cards.
“Hardly fair against the highest level god,” Belgar grumbled.
But the game went on, as did the conversation. Despite being the grumpiest person in Tero’gal, Belgar eventually opened up about himself. He was a regretful man who held a spiteful view of the life he had led. Even after being reminded that he was the master of his destiny, not Drogramath, he wouldn’t give it up.
Benton proved to be the spirit’s opposite. The bear-god was full of love for everything and everyone, despite being a god of death. Because he was a god of death, according to Khahar. Everything was about cakes and tea with that guy. His encouraging attitude was infectious, defeating Belgar’s nihilism with ease. What was left was a hearty game of poker that everyone enjoyed.
Something begged Khahar’s attention and they had to end the game. But the Arbiter promised to return for more games, even if it wasn’t daily. This was a realm for private work, after all. They couldn’t just spend 12 hours screwing around with cards. Theo stood with Belgar and Benton outside of the cottage. Khahar had just returned to his citadel, leaving a lingering sense of the desert’s heat in his wake.
“I was gonna wait for a better time to tell you, Theo,” Benton started, looking sheepish about his statement. “But there’s a few souls in the void that are looking for homes. I was worried about arbitration, but… Khahar said nothing about Belgar being here.”
Benton was worried that having souls in Tero’gal would be against the rules. But a realm grew in power for several reasons, one of them being the collection of souls. More souls meant a more powerful realm, which was something Theo desperately needed. Tero’gal was one the one thing between him and certain death. Well, perhaps something less dramatic, but that’s how it felt.
“Anyone you bring around needs to be interviewed first. I don’t want my realm loading up with a bunch of jerks.”
“Of course,” Benton said, nodding his head. “The ones that have found their way into my realm are mostly Dronon. Some are too weak to ascend to the higher realms, so they’ve remained in our lowly section of the heavens. Others are wayward. Unable to come to terms with the doctrine of their master.”
“Zagmon Dronon?” Theo asked.
“All flavors, but yes. Some of Zagmon’s lost children need a home.”
That was a hard pill to swallow, but Theo would take it, anyway. He wasn’t interested in judging someone by their origin. While he had only had unpleasant experiences with Zagmon Dronon, that didn’t mean they were all evil. And now they were without a god. What happened to those people lost in the void? Would they just float around forever without finding a home?
“Like I said. Interview first, then I’ll talk about accepting them.”
As with most trips to Tero’gal, Theo was forced to think about what he left back on the mortal plane. Salire was having a lot of fun doing potions today. After the departure of the small fleet, there was little else to do in town. Ziz and his guys were ready to work on the underwater tower, but that was a project that required many people. Sailors, stoneworkers, artificers, blacksmiths, and so on. The project might have been stupid, but it tied in well with the alchemist’s plans to fortify the coast.
He spent his remaining time in the realm with Belgar, working on items for the shop. The dead Dronon still held cores in his spirit, but they were mere echoes of their former selves. He didn’t have the control of someone with a mortal body, and the effects of his cores were pathetic when compared to the real thing. But that was one thing that didn’t seem to bother him. For a man so proud of his abilities in life, he didn’t care that he wasn’t as good in death.
For the spirit, pride came as knowledge. His memories of mortal life weren’t perfect, but they were damn good. For a man who spent thousands of years fighting for survival in the void, he was brilliant. Theo couldn’t stop himself from wondering what this guy could have gotten up to if he wasn’t slain prematurely. The details around his death were foggy. Like Zarali, he would only say that the Dronon was thrown from a cliff. A secret war they wouldn’t elaborate on.
“Alcohol was the key to the Level 30 barrier,” Belgar said, helping Theo clean out a still. They had a few more batches to make before they were done for the day. “That makes me wonder about the other barriers.”
“Impossible to say. Could be some combination of alcohol and mana infusion. Does the system know to create new tiers of things as you level? Does that go on forever?”
Belgar attached the grinder to the top of the artifice still, struggling with his immaterial form. But he managed the task well enough. “Impossible to say. You’re better off asking your friend. The Arbiter.”
“Fair enough. He claimed to be level 12,000 when he ascended.”
Belgar shook his head. “No one man should have so much power.”
Theo had nothing to say about that. He just wanted to get the work done, then return to the mortal plane. But he was happy to chat with Belgar about other things. It was hard to get a man like him to talk about anything other than regrets, so that remained a slow process. They completed not only the orders they had received in the shop, but some extra things to stock. Random purchases didn’t account for many of their sales, but it was good enough to line their pockets.
“Well, it’s been a blast,” Theo said, giving Belgar another thumbs-up. “I can hug you when your form gets more solid. Right now it’s about like touching slightly thick air.”
“I’m working on it,” Belgar said, fumbling with something on the table. He gestured to it, rather than picking it up. “For my sister.”
“Another note?” Theo asked, scooping the letter up. “I hope you guys are hashing things out.”
“Yes. It’s difficult to be a hovering older brother when all you can do is send notes.” Belgar let out a labored sigh. “But better than nothing. Better than the void.”
“Alright. Enjoy your hundred-some-odd days in solitude.”
“One-hundred forty-four days,” Belgar corrected. “Benton keeps me company, mostly. I haven’t hopped realms since I got here, though. Working on that one.”
“Well,” Theo said, approaching the island’s edge. He looked down, spying on Tresk and Alex for a moment. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Stay sane.”
As Theo plunged over the edge, he heard Belgar say, “I’ll try.”
Chapter 45
Wisdom of the Soul
“You should really talk to more people before you drink that—oh, he’s drinking it.”
Salire watched in horror as Theo downed his [Wisdom of the Soul] potion. His feet had only pressed against the wooden floor of the alchemy lab for a moment before he withdrew the potion. The effects were instant and intense. The alchemist fell to the ground in a heap, the potion worming its way through his body. After traveling from his stomach to the place where his cores were, it ate away at something.
A distressed honk issued somewhere in the distance.
“Damn you, Theo!” Salire said, rushing over to crouch by the prone Dronon. “Do you ever think?”
A few fitful spasms later and Theo rested on the hard ground. His vision swirled before him as the potion finished its good work. Tero’gal and the Tara’hek had done wonders to ease the constant barrage of mind-altering attributes. But they were nothing compared to this. His thoughts came in ordered patterns, even as his new assistant shouted for help. One thing after the other, never interrupted with a poke from his intuition. Those intrusive thoughts were now relegated to something else entirely.
“I’m fine.” Theo said, reading over a system message he had never seen before.
[Wisdom of the Soul]
Salire Hogrush shows concern over your condition. The concern is genuine. The [Wisdom of the Soul] potion has already done its work. You are in no immediate danger.
“Are you sure?” Salire asked, pressing her palm against his forehead.
Shadows stirred at the room’s corners. Three figures burst from those dark places, two with the dang pole-axes and one with a dagger and a rapier. Tresk, Rowan, and Sarisa looked over the scene with concern, eyes lingering on the prone alchemist.
“Who am I stabbing!?” Tresk demanded.
“No one. I just had a potion,” Theo said, standing to his feet. It was a heady rush. “Khahar said it was fine.”
“You talked to Khahar?” Tresk asked, still staring. “That guy is trouble.”
Salire stood nearby, hands on Theo’s shoulders to keep him steady. He appreciated the gesture. While the effects of the potion had subsided, he still felt like he’d topple over at any moment. The alchemist stuffed a wad of [Moss Nettle] into his mouth and chewed. It had the flavor of dirt with a sprinkle of lemon juice. He was not surprised to see another wisdom notification pop up.
[Wisdom of the Soul]
Chewing on some raw reagents seems to grant the imbiber a less-potent version of the reagent’s property effects.
“This is gonna take some getting used to,” Theo grumbled, finding a sturdy chair to sit on.
“You’re fine, then?” Sarisa asked, still holding her weapon firmly.
“I’m fine. Thanks for worrying, but that’s just part of the process.”
Tresk, Sarisa, and Rowan cleared out of the room reluctantly. They left Theo behind with an overly excited Salire. She grilled him about the effects, wanting to know how it had changed his mind. It was a simple explanation. The alchemist had considered the way attributes messed with his mind from the start. He’d spent long hours considering the interaction of cores, and how those gods affected the wielder.
“I brewed some stuff for the shop,” Theo said after finishing his explanation. When he stood, he stumbled. But Salire was there to catch him. “Thank you.”
“Let me put some tea on. Tell me how your trip into Tero’gal went.”
Salire shuffled off, activating a [Flame Artifice] and putting a pot of water on. Theo retold his experience in his private realm. Twelve hours of poker and tea. Conversations that revealed some of the Arbiter’s plot. His new wisdom messages popped up occasionally, telling him that the woman was interested in the story's content. There seemed to be no ulterior motive. This new existence would take some getting used to, but it was nice.
“Sarisa, do I need to be anywhere today?” Theo asked.
The assistant stepped from the shadows, bowing her head. “You’re not obligated to be anywhere today. Ziz and his men are working on the underwater tower. Throk has made progress on your weapon platform. The new Ogre is still running around healing everyone—there’s a bit of rat problem now.”
“A rat problem?”
“The Ogre’s magic has unintended side-effects. The most common one is the attraction of rats.”
Theo tapped his chin a few times. “Do we have rats? Regular old rats? Four-legged rats, pointed faces, long scaly tail?”
“Six legs,” Sarisa corrected.
“Two tails,” Salire put in.
“Of course. Why not?” Theo shrugged it all away.
[Wisdom of the Soul]
Hybrid animals were likely the result of seeded people’s manipulation of indigenous fauna. A selective breeding program that resulted in Earth-like creatures. But not quite.
Theo rose to his feet. He wanted nothing more than to watch Ziz and his guys work on the underwater tower. That was one project that seemed silly. When he got to his feet, he didn’t sway as badly. The moss was doing its job.
“The temple should be done incorporating into the town soon enough. Then I’m sure we’ll get you a Drogramathi core.”
Salire looked up at him with hopeful eyes. She wanted this badly. The alchemist just hoped she wouldn’t be disappointed. He relayed his intentions to Sarisa, then bid farewell to the budding alchemist. Bilgrob passed by as he exited the Newt and Demon, waving and grinning. At least the Ogre priest was getting along in town. Better than could be said about the Elves when they first arrived.
“Breaking eggs and all that,” Theo mumbled to himself. “Rowan, are you near?”
“Of course,” Rowan said, stepping from the shadows.
“Good. Let’s go check on Ziz.”
The group made their way to the harbor first. It was empty of all boats, and the crew that was left behind was pitiful. While Laedria was working on several more ships—roughly the size of her first generation—she was working at a slower pace. They tracked a path along the canal’s wall. Khahar’s handiwork was there on display. The stone wall seemed almost seamless in places. Ziz’s good work was a stark contrast to the work of a god, after all. But function went a long way in Broken Tusk.
Theo picked what little reagents grew near the canal. Without the bank of the river, several ingredients would be harder to get. [River Kelp] was among them, although he had never found a good use for those. The [Hone Edge] property from the [River Clam Pearl] would also be missed, but only because he had never found a good use for it. But a few [Water Lilies] were accessible from the water’s edge. He had little use for them, as they were uncultivated, but any experience was good experience.
It took them a while to work their way to the beach, but what they saw was amazing. The only boat remaining in Broken Tusk bobbed on the bay’s waves. Crews of workers labored on spans of ice. Not just over the dungeon, but jutting from the edge of the canal’s wall. They were expanding the walls out, creating the defensive structure Theo had wanted from the start.
“Oh, they’re really going at it,” Rowan said with an approving nod. “Get an idea in that man’s head and he goes all in.”
Theo nodded to a worker as he stepped onto a section of finished stonework. It was hard to classify the structure. The stoneworkers had created an underwater wall, much like the marble wall that held the canal together. It ran out into the bay, holding the angle created by the river they had straightened. He could walk two healthy paces in one direction and still have room to step. The structure was equal on both sides at the moment, reaching roughly half-way toward the dungeon’s location.
“What a mighty fine… bridge?” Theo asked, turning to his assistants. “Would you call this a bridge?”
“A causeway.” Sarisa offered.
“Underwater wall,” Rowan said.
“Ziz!” Theo shouted. The Half-Ogre was working on the other side of the wall. “What is this thing?”
Ziz shrugged, looking up from his work. He had chipped ice in his beard and a stupid look on his face. “A defensive structure! We’re gonna end them both in towers so we can put your guns in them!”
“Oh, fair enough,” Theo said, scanning the horizon. The Cork was out there, fishing away near the barrier islands.
Since the canal was already wide enough to accommodate massive ships, the walls that extended from there were also wide enough. Theo imagined a gatehouse somewhere along the lengthy span. Somewhere for boats to be checked before they entered the town. Collapsable defenses were a great idea. A forward post like this could be abandoned in case of an attack, allowing defenders to retreat to the walls of the town. Sledge would work overtime to use her [Fabricator] skills on these structures.
It was nice to see the technique working, though. Theo had his doubts about it, but it was simply the best way to create a structure under the water. There might have been a way to fabricate the walls, then move them in here. But that seemed like more labor with more specialized tools. Instead, they’d take advantage of the magic in this world. Freeze the ocean, then dig it out. Stupid, but effective.
This was a task that might have been too much for other people. But Ziz had a way of latching himself onto a problem and creating workable solutions. Theo and his assistants watched for some time before the sound of an artifice wheelchair crunching on gravel came from behind. Fenian cursed as he failed to get his chair up onto the wall. Sarisa and Rowan rushed over to lift him up, setting him down gingerly on the white marble.
“Lovely day for a roll, isn’t it?” Fenian asked.
Theo chuckled. “What do you think about the extension to the canal?”
“It’s lovely. And weird. What was the point of it again?”
Theo’s Wisdom of the Soul told him that Fenian already knew, and was just trying to get a rise out of the alchemist. “We’re mounting defensive guns and providing access to the [Ocean Dungeon]. But you know that.”
“Do I?”
“I chugged a new potion that lets me see my intuition in text.” Theo cast the Elf a sly smile.
“Oh. Maybe I should be more careful with my words.” Fenian giggled. “Look at my arm, though.”
The Elf waved his arm around. It was still floppy, but had formed into something closer resembling a man’s arm. The limb regeneration process would end in a few days, giving him freedom of movement once again.
“What are you going to do when you’re all healed up?”
“I need to flush out Karasan again before he returns. I’ll be honest. I didn’t expect the capital to last this long. They should have fallen by now.”
Theo knew little about Qavell’s defenses. He only knew that people spoke of their defenses as good. Multiple walls with weapons bristling from every available surface. The alchemist assumed they could not create undead killing weapons, though. A few high-level priests would be effective at holding back the tide, but they were limited in number without the ability to toss potions all day and night. Or spray the potions over their walls like they did at Gronro-dir.
“Where is he hiding, anyway?”
“Between the veil, I think. Something I didn’t plan for. Khahar was supposed to sort that out on his end, but here we are. Adapting as we always do.”
There was something satisfying about watching Ziz and his crews work. He had gone from only having himself and five workers to creating a small army. They applied Theo’s potion to the surface of the water, letting that freeze the lower layers, then repeated the process. Eventually, the pillar of ice would reach the bottom of the bay. Then they got to work cutting it out with a mixture of [Tunneling Potions] and muscles. After creating a work area all the way to the bottom, they built their stonework.
The crews had taken their structures to a new level, though. The wall they were building wasn’t just stones stacked on one another. At the top, there was a decorative lip, carved with various images. It held an artistry that Theo hadn’t seen in the town before, stirring something in his heart. Survival had been a concern for quite some time. But perhaps there was room for art.
After getting his first taste for relaxation, Theo decided that’s what he was going to do today. The crews took breaks in shifts, and the alchemist departed during one of them. He worked his way through town, accompanied by his guards. Luras was running drills with the military outside of the eastern gate, near the bridge. They stayed for a while to watch the various formations and practice duels that formed out on those fields. His golems working the small farm had collected a fair amount of wheat, so the alchemist took that into his inventory.
Banu’s farm was going extremely well. The farmers were getting rich off the cost of the [Starbristle Flax], and it showed. They were eating well. The other plots of land were producing more than ever. Filled to bursting with highly cultivated Zee, these fields could sate the hunger of the entire town. Far from where they started out. Far enough from the panic of food shortages to make all the effort worth it.
Theo worked out a deal with Banu to use their windmill to grind the wheat into flour. Since it fell under the current contract, there was no need to amend it. The farmer would take the wheat from the golem farm, then grind it up on the farmer’s hill.
“An automated farm, huh? Planning to replace us anytime soon?” Banu asked, his arms folded. As always, the farmer had suspicions about everything.
“Just another experiment,” Theo assured him, turning to his assistants. “Could one of you make sure that Xam is aware of this flour? I’d like some real pasta.”
Rowan bowed his head, then vanished. Sarisa remained.
To the north of the farmer’s hill was an area Tresk had named Stabby Groves. This was the place where most of the adventurers called home, but that was changing. A sprawl of homes spread out from the main road, creating a grid-like pattern of houses. It was unlikely that everyone who lived here was an adventurer. Theo stopped by Zan’kir’s place but no one was home. Instead, the alchemist surveyed the area.
“We’ve got some expansion potential to the east and west here,” Theo said, gesturing in either direction. He had his administration screen up and was visualizing potential expansions. “When we run out of room for homes here, we can dip into the space south of Perg’s tannery.”
“Might be time for another big project.”
Theo grunted a response. The land south of the smeltery was rocky and uneven. Hills sprawled out to the south until they became the mountains at Dead Dog Mine. Cutting into those hills would be laborious, even with the [Tunneling Potion]. And the essence that made that potion was limited. It came from the [Living River Water] that the alchemist had collected during a monster wave.
“Make a note for me, please. If a trader comes by with [Living River Water], I’d like to buy all of it. Anything with the [Dissolve] property, actually.”
“Noted.”
“How do you think the town is coming along?”
“We’re a lifetime away from where we started.” Sarisa’s gaze lingered out over the farmer’s hill in the distance. “I think your focus should be on gaining more citizens.”
Theo tapped his chin. That was a big problem. “I expected Khahari refugees, to be honest. When the traders from Partopour showed up, I expected people to immigrate from there. It isn’t happening.”
Sarisa nodded. “We got lucky with the Elves, didn’t we?”
That was an understatement. House Wavecrest had been the biggest boon to the town. They were hard workers and smart. Well, the ones that didn’t break their contract and die. Those that held true to their contracts were now integral members of town.
The journeys through town Theo took were always enjoyable. He spent time with other citizens, checking in on independent people who barely needed his help anymore. By the time dusk was approaching, he had worked up an appetite. The lights inside of the manor were already burning brightly when he returned. True to his word, Rowan had informed Xam about the wheat flour available at the farm’s windmill. The alchemist settled in with those that refused to leave his home, taking his seat at the head of the dining room table.
Sarisa and Rowan served plates of wheat pasta slathered in Xam’s signature Karatan cheese sauce. There was a vast difference between pasta derived from Zee flour and wheat flour. As Theo took his first bite, he closed his eyes. The sensation the texture gave him sent him back to Earth. He savored every bite and ate far more than he normally did.
“This is heaven,” Theo said, barely paying attention to the conversation around him.
Tresk laughed. “Give the man a little taste of Earth and he’s satisfied.”
The meal was pleasant, though. The group continued their hearty conversations even after Tresk, Theo, and Alex headed off for bed. A constant roll of sound could be heard downstairs, even as the group drifted into the Dreamwalk.
