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177 - Charcoal Games Pt. 2 [Cherno]
🕑 Added 2023-12-19 06:46:19 +0000 UTC"Alright, fine, enough games," Krahe sighed, and decided to just spill everything about the Hexkey. As it was, both it and the anthrocite hand were utterly useless to her. "To start with, I know the superior counterpart to human charcoal under the name 'anthrocite'. Secondly, I found what I believe to be an inheritance from the Human Charcoal Cults. The first part is a cursed voidkey that promises it will evolve at some ill-defined point, claiming that it will 'evolve once Anthrocite Transmutation reaches 100%.' It currently sits at around 66%. The second part is a full hand made of anthrocite, found in a purposely poorly-sealed box disguised as a book. It was locked with a holeless lock that demanded painstakingly precise anathema manipulation to open. The box also contained a message that directly stated the hand should somehow be sufficient to 'finish' the cursed voidkey."
“I see why you would be cautious about disclosing this to anyone you do not fully trust,” Yao nodded. “Do you know the nature of the curse, or is the voidkey warded against appraisal?”
Krahe had no qualms about explaining the nature of the Flame’s Collapse Hexkey, since there was no reason to withhold this information after what she had already disclosed. The mistress listened with interest, concluding: “Clearly intended to hook a prospective disciple and encourage commitment. I would not be surprised if there was at least one more link in the chain that could somehow override the Hexkey. Did you bring either the key or the anthrocite hand? While I cannot be certain until I can examine both relics, I believe I may be able to aid you in completing the Hexkey.”
She turned, glancing out the window. Despite the ground-level windows not facing the open street in any direction, the light of the battle in the sky still reached them every once in a while.
“And if we are to carry out such a rite it would be best to do it tonight, if at all possible. We are not likely to receive such a convenient cover for some time,” Yao added.
“You expect the process to create a large energy signature, and you think that the battle will be a sufficient distraction,” Krahe stated.
Turning back to face her again, Yao nodded: “In more ways than one. The protections I already have in place, combined with the protections I will create for the rite, will do most of the work, but I am not an anathema specialist.”
She got up and walked to the window, leaning on its edge. Outside the window was a narrow alleyway, with the walls and the roof of the next building over being plastered in talismans, included as part of Yao’s defensive perimeter. A shimmering wall of scrolling symbols, rising from the wall of the building across the alley, became visible when Yao came into its vicinity. Staring up at the sky, face lit up by intermittent flashes from above, she continued to speak.
“At best, assuming you contribute your expertise, I would estimate that at least one tenth of the ritual’s waste energies will leak into the environment. The arcane winds swept up by the heavenly battle will suffice to sweep it away, and the battle itself will provide us with plausible deniability. I do not expect individuals of that level to disclose their trump cards to dispel accusations of anathema usage, given the fact that anathema seems to be regarded as a force that can only be safely wielded by high-level practitioners. Perhaps one of the participants made use of an anathemic technique in desperation. It would make perfect sense for one of them to use it, perhaps the red one…”
Yao became drawn into her own words, a sense of melancholy, nostalgia even, creeping into her speech.
“I must admit that I am curious: How does that display compare to your own experiences?” Krahe asked. It was, indeed, somewhat familiar to her. She had seen power-armored superhumans soaring through the sky on jets of plasma, firing off rays of death and hypersonic slugs, forming wings made of nanomachines as protection. Krahe had seen it, but despite a degree of familiarity, it was still different and new in some ways.
“Feels the same as looking at the stars here. Familiar but different,” the talisman mistress croaked, taking another drag of her pipe. It was a perfect description for how Krahe felt about it, too. She watched in silence. Krahe walked up to the window as well and hopped up on the ledge, sitting down with her legs hanging out. It was wide enough to still leave about a meter of empty space between the two of them. Without a thought, Krahe conjured an arrha cigarette and joined Yao in smoking. The smoke mixed together into a medicinal, incense-like compound, and a cloud formed around them as it dissipated slower than new smoke was added. The talisman mistress spoke up again some ten minutes later: “They want someone in the city to see them fight, yet they also fear the consequences of causing collateral damage. I was observing them before you came; even with my impaired senses, I noticed six instances where an opening was not taken advantage of for fear of the possibility it might strike a building. At my peak, I would have mocked them for not having the person above the city lord in their pockets, or for not being able to quickly set up precautions so that an all-out battle would not ever threaten the city, even as close to its perimeter as this.”
They watched for a few more minutes, and Krahe eventually just brought out the Hexkey and set it down on the windowsill between them. After sparing it not much more than a glance, Yao took it in hand and stepped back from the window, turning away from it. Resting her pipe in the corner of her mouth, she brought the key to her left eye and pulled back the talisman that plastered over its socket. An ominous, invasive feeling filled the room as a floodlight of eldritch darkness flooded out, shimmering wisps of indescribable colour whirling in the black.
