§124 Rescue (Patreon)

He couldn't see his assailant, but he knew the shape of her. A long, toothy snout. Talons for fingers and toes. Skin made of jagged scales. Cruelty was written into her every aspect. She had eased up so he would know he was dying.

One mistake: that's all it took to ruin everything. He'd messed it up. The gods would begin again, starting with a series of cursed children. Or they'd do something worse. If it took too long to fix things, the empire would collapse. Millions would die. All because he got a little careless one day. One act of hubris.

He had barely learned the shape of his own soul, but he knew it was a ruin, holes and ragged gaps and essence bleeding out of him.

"You're not dying yet," Ripper crooned. "It's been so long since I had a good meal. I want to savor this."

Her claws twisted and drew all new kinds of screams from him.

Premi and Tanya attacked the space in front of Taylor, but they couldn't touch something they couldn't see, something made of pure soul.

"What is it?" yelled a panicked Jalil.

"I don't know! There's nothing here!" Tanya slashed the air with her claws and struck nothing.

Saria cast one detection spell after the other, searching for the source of the attack. Premi tried to pry the unseen attacker away with an area taunt, but her skills wouldn't work against a soul. 

Ripper laughed. "They're so frantic. That's too delicious!"

Taylor struggled against her, his soul against hers. Every small twitch he could summon only tore him more. He wasn't even close to being a match for her. He tried to use magic to fight back, but Ripper did something unspeakable to him, and a tidal wave of pain ripped his gathered mana from his hands. 

"None of that, now." Ripper had total control of him. He couldn't use magic. His spirits couldn't touch her.

In the physical world, Saria had his head between her hands. Her thumbs held his eyes open. "What can we do? Tell us what to do."

He tried to speak, but his mouth was too dry. His body didn't want to move. Whatever Ripper was doing to him in the in-between was stealing all his strength in the mortal world.

"Use our bond! Tell me through our bond!"

Ripper twisted gleefully, but Taylor seized on his bond with Saria desperately. She was his first true friend. His first equal. Finding their bond was as easy as touching two fingers together.

"Break the iron collar. Put me to sleep!" It was the only thing he could think of. To fight a soul, he needed a stronger soul. 

"No! I refuse to do that!" She misunderstood. "I won't let you give up. Ask for something else! Anything else!"

"Sleep!" He screamed across their bond, "I can fight her in my sleep! Break her collar!"

His eyes weren't working any better than his body, but he felt the mana she put together. It was a construct he knew well, because he had taught it to her and then watched her customize it to her own needs. It was a ten-hour sleep spell, but not a dreamless one.

The cruel talons shifted in his soul, injuring a new part of him. Instead of crying out, he reached out for Saria's spell and accepted it.

Darkness. A jerk and pull. Kicked aside. A thread of thought he could follow into awareness: he wasn't in very much pain. Relatively speaking. His perception of the in-between was faint and distorted, but he was aware of Simon, triple-wrapped in contempt. One hand held the struggling Ripper aloft. The soul catcher was too bright to look at: Taylor couldn't see where his edges ended, and Ripper's began.

"Pathetic. I haven't the words." The scorn was meant for Taylor, not Ripper.

"You could try hubris," gasped Taylor. His soul form was faltering. Or maybe it was stabilizing. How could he even tell? "Or arrogance. Admit it, you're enjoying this a little bit."

"I do feel vindicated. As for this one…." He held the captive soul aloft to get a better look at it. "I have wanted it for some time. Nasty thing. We know what to do with the likes of you." Ripper's long claws couldn't begin to menace Simon. It bit at the soul catcher, but its terrifying fangs didn't penetrate the superior entity's body.

C'cora's gate bloomed, unfolding into a thousand petals. Instead of tossing his quarry in as he usually did, Simon stretched forth his arm until Ripper was near enough to feel its pull.

The gate to Death's Embrace, so welcoming to most souls, pulled at Ripper until her taloned feet dangled almost within the gate. The monster thrashed and screamed wordless curses, but Simon did not let go. He held the monster within the gate's grasp and, at that proximity, the gate's pull could not be denied. Ripper couldn't move, so the opposing forces ground away at the monster little by little, sucking streams of sparks into the hungry maw of the chrysanthenum's center.

Like soft metal pressed hard against a grindstone, Ripper shrank and deformed, with much howling rage. Eventually, it stopped its struggles. When Ripper was ground down to a small thing, a weak thing, weaker than most of what Taylor picked up in his nocturnal travels, Simon released it. It fell away, passive, into the final resting place of all its kind, swallowed by C'cora's gate, which folded in on itself into nothingness.

Taylor wasn't well. He felt faint and indistinct. Simon's presence burned him.

The soul-catcher didn't come any closer, but knelt where he was to bring himself to Taylor's level.

"Pull. Yourself. Together. Or the next soul I collect will be yours."

Simon vanished, leaving Taylor alone in the dark utility corridor between Life and Death.

Alone, without any other soul-walking entity to harm or interfere with him, he did pull himself together, quite literally scooping handfuls of his own substance toward where he was strongest and holding onto it, then scooped up more as soon as he felt the least bit stable. Bit by leaky bit, he regained a fraction of what he'd lost. When he had gathered all he could and felt that delaying longer wouldn't buy him any greater measure of survival, Taylor grasped the cord to his mortal shell and willed himself to it.

For a long time, he dreamed he was in the creek in the hills above his childhood home. It was as much a home to him as the mansion itself. The water came from glaciers on Bakarik Mountain, its icy touch a balm against his burning pains. This was Saria. Submerged in this dreamstate, he knew she was mad at him for everything he withheld from her. He knew she loved him, for all he was and all his faults. He let her waters run through his fingers, touched the stones of her bed.

He was a mortal, here and gone again. He could live for hundreds of years, and it still wouldn't amount to much compared to her. But if he could, in his short life, make her millennial lifetime easier to bear, then he would. They were friends. He should trust her more. He should have told her more. His thoughts drifted through his past lives, the gods, this world, and other things he wanted to tell her.

It was daylight again when he awoke. He was in the mansion, in one of the rooms Chambers had cleaned the day before, in the same single bed he used to sleep on in the boarding house's garret. It was tiny in that grand master bedroom, practically a crib. He had a little table next to his bed, with a pitcher of water. Beyond that were two chairs. Saria sat in one. His sister sat in the other.

"River ecology isn't just about what lives in the water," Saria was explaining. "Everything that happens on the banks matters, too. Even the kinds of rocks you have upstream make a difference. So, if you want to predict what kind of monsters you get when a rift opens nearby, there is a lot to consider. And, animals that eat monstrified fish can themselves become monsters."

"Who eats whom matters," Cecilia summarized.

"Always. Speaking of," Saria glared at him, "I know someone who barely escaped being eaten himself."

"The great monster hunter," said his sister. "What happened?"

Saria piled on. "Yeah, Dux Twilight. What happened?"

The door banged open, and Kasper came charging in, "Are we awake now? Are we getting answers?"

The wolfkin leaped onto the bed without asking, bounced twice, and sat cross-legged at the foot. "Yeah, big hunter. What happened?"

For Kasper's sake, Taylor didn't grumble or dissemble. Instead, he levered himself up to a sitting position.

"I picked a fight with something, without knowing what it was. Sometimes, that can't be helped. But this time …." Taylor grunted. How many times had he lectured others about making the same mistake? "There was no reason to rush. I'm sure there were ways to get more information before we opened the vault. I'll have to make a list."

Saria crossed her arms, angry and relieved. "You could have started by asking the neighbors what they knew about past attacks. Anything at all might have been helpful."

"There are scholars at the Academy who study ancient cultures, especially the ones who used to live here," added Cecilia. "One of them might have recognized the runes.

"I have one!" Kasper raised his hand. When nobody called on him, he raised it higher. School was having an effect on him.

"Kasper?"

The wolfkin lowered his hand. "You could have asked the oldest arcs in the city. They know all kinds of things that aren't in books."

"Let's not forget about the failed exorcisms," Cecilia added. "The church would let you interview the priests."

"Yeah. That's a pretty good list. And it only took a minute to come up with it." Taylor stared at the ceiling and noticed the crown molding showed signs of decay and could be replaced. Bona was going to love redecorating Poplar Grove. There were too many people depending on him to go jumping into ancient vaults without asking questions. What would happen to them if he suddenly died? He hadn't prepared a plan for anyone else's futures.

"I assumed we could handle any one monster the city could throw at us. I knew we didn't know what we were getting into. I should have at least tried to do some research."

Cecilia gave him a wry smile. "Are you saying you almost died because you didn't do your homework?"

"Yes. That is literally what happened." The power of homework. After all the times he'd hectored others about it, he could only laugh at how foolish he'd been. Well, he was still alive, surrounded by people who cared whether he lived or died. He would just have to do better.

"Wow." Kasper had an odd look on his face.

Cecilia was grinning like she had played a joke on him.

Saria acted like nothing was wrong.

Taylor felt for his prayer beads and found they were in place. He checked his mask and discovered it was missing. His hands searched the pillows and around his blanket. It wasn't there. He searched the one drawer of his tiny nightstand, and it wasn't there, either. He grabbed a pillow and put it over his face.

"You do realize," gufawed Cecilia, "that we've been here for hours. When are you going to learn you don't need a mask?" She snatched the pillow from his hands. "The beads work. Ditch the mask and stop hiding."

"You know, I'm kinda disappointed," added Kasper. "I always thought you'd be at least a little bit beastkin."

"Traitors," mumbled Taylor. 

"Sometimes, when you love someone," Cecilia lectured him, "you have to kick them in the ass."

"Are you serious? You want me to walk around in public, with my face hanging out for everyone to see?"

"You mean like the rest of us? Yes!"

"It could be a problem, though," Kasper added with mock consideration. "People will think you're normal. It could really mess with the whole Dark Lord reputation you're building."

"Out, all of you!" Taylor tossed pillows at them. "Tell Cook I'm hungry, and tell Blake I want to write letters."

Kasper and Cecilia laughed as they retreated. Saria was the last to leave, but put a soothing hand on his shoulder. "Don't let them get to you. Noone who knows you for ten minutes will ever mistake you for normal." She picked up the pillows and stuffed them behind his back for support. "You have a lot to tell me. Properly. With words."

"I know. And I will, soon. But I need to send some letters before I collapse. Who else knows about the treasure?"

"No one outside of us five. Your people know about the crypt and the dead king, or whatever he was, and his guardian. That's all. I repaired the hole and put a minor seal on it."

"Good. Where is the rest of our little army?"

"Exploring the mansion. Picking out rooms."

Blake appeared at the door with a knock, a writing desk in his hands. Cook was behind him, bearing a tray. Chambers hovered behind her.

"I'll leave you to your caretakers. Be nice to them. They've been worried about you. Oh, and you should check your class. Something came in while you were asleep."

Cook put a tray over his lap, with a broth that smelled divine and a light sandwich on the side. Chambers fixed his pillows. Blake set the writing desk nearby and pulled up a chair, prepared to write. He had never offered to take dictation before. All three of them pretended not to stare sidelong at his face.

"What's gotten into you today?" he complained.

Chambers answered for all of them. "It's good to see you, Young Master. Alive."

The soup was good, and Taylor made appreciative noises as he ate. He discovered he was starving and sent Cook back for seconds. He dictated a brief note to the Dwergbank lawyers, asking them to send someone to discuss a matter of "great archeological importance," and proposed meeting times. It would be interesting to see how much they read into the phrase and who they chose send.

Nobody had written to Bona yet to inform him that a major redecoration project was available, should he want it, and Taylor left that duty in Chambers's hands. A card went out to Donbrook and Pearl, informing the merchants that he had taken the estate and named it Poplar Grove. On inspection, much like the flies and lures he made for angling, Blake's handwriting was more precise than Taylor's own. Taylor gave him a list of additional names to receive identical messages. By the end of the day, every friend and interested party in town would know he had moved in.

By the time he finished his meal, Taylor was badly in need of sleep. The last thing he did before drifting off was check his logs.

You have freed Ripanshi's imprisoned soul.
Quest update: [Free Imprisoned Souls 1/2].