One of the mountaintops off to the west of the fort lit up with flashes of brilliant purple incandescence. As it continued, even the Huntress was struck with the sensation of power.
And the mountain shrugged. The top rose up as if buoyed by that terrible light, and then dropped. And kept dropping. The lower slope facing the swarm bulged out and then, as if a dam had burst, flowed forth like a wave of water poured across a table. Within the churning earth was snapping, crackling, burning purple lightning. The leading edge of the rolling dirt and stone threw up a bow wave of more stone, trees, and then giant ants as it swept across the valley in the span of less than a dozen heartbeats.
The others couldn’t see as clearly as Terisa could, when the lightning and stone reached the queen and crushed it under tons of rock and earth as easily as she might crush a normal-sized insect underfoot. They saw the effect, but not the source. But her [Eagle Eye] skill showed her, in perfect clarity, a woman covered in glowing lines of power from head to toe, leaping from one floating disk of stone to another several paces above the churning mass of burning earth. Seven flawless mana crystals floated in a circle that slowly rotated around the woman, and a poofy puffball twice the size of Biggles’ own Wuffle perched upon her shoulder.
The necromancer’s jaw hung open, as did those of Nessara and the other mages, as he tracked her across the sky. “One person,” he said weakly. “One person, linked to seven mana crystals? That…shouldn’t be possible! The flux alone should…!”
“Nobody told them that,” retorted Nessara.
“Her,” said Kojeg absently, peering through his spyglass. “Terisa, is it just me eyes, or be that lass as naked as the day she were born?”
“It’s not your eyes, Koj,” Terisa replied in wonder.
“Well,” Dana supplied as the glowing figure approached the fort, resting her hands on her hips. “This should be interesting!”
Second InterLulude: Hello!
It had been a long journey.
Her mistress had been running flat-out for two days and two nights, barely stopping to eat and rest, and the loyal scrubby had come along for the ride. Sometimes she’d clung tightly to her mistress’ shoulder, flattening herself down so the great winds couldn’t find enough purchase on her form to push her off her perch. Other times, Lulu had quickly scurried downward to hide in the strange, airless void she’d found at her hip, napping in the unchanging quiet and trusting, knowing, that if she was needed, her mistress would retrieve her.
Every time the lacy puffball emerged from her preferred travel napping place, her mistress felt worryingly less than before. Thinner. Bonier. The effort she was expending was clear even to Lulu, and more than once it took a good purble-scolding before her mistress deigned to have a meal and replenish herself.
Their encounters with the denizens of the forest during this period of travel had all been brief, their goal not to kill and conquer, but merely to evade and suppress long enough to get going again.
It had never been clear to Lulu where they were going, or what their purpose was; all she knew was her mistress deemed it very important that they get somewhere. When they’d crested the top of the mountain and seen the vast swaths of insects below, the scrubby had wondered if perhaps they were headed for a grand, glorious battle of some sort.
They were, and yet they weren’t. It was a sidestep, a last detour before coming to what her mistress had really been seeking: others of her own kind.
Together, all of them had battled against the swarm of chittering foes and emerged triumphant. Now, after the dust had settled and her mistress had been cleaned off, the ones who walked on two legs were conversing in tones that spoke of friendly curiosity and confusion. Lulu listened in as best as she could, but nothing in their tone gave her cause for concern—and when a few of them broke away from the group and did things around fires that made mistress’ stomach growl noisily, the scrubby knew they were in good hands.
With one last look around to satisfy herself that they’d be safe for the moment, Lulu crept onto Morgan’s shoulder and purbled a quiet goodbye before leaping away, moving off to explore a little. Learning more about the sorts of beings they would be staying with seemed to be a prudent thing to do, and as the beings in question were of the same kind as her mistress, she might learn more about her by learning about them .
The shelters these people used were things completely foreign to the scrubby, and were the first stop on her tour of exploration. The texture felt unlike anything Lulu had yet encountered, and she crawled all over the yielding surface in an effort to understand. After careful examination, she concluded that they were comprised of thin lengths of fiber woven together in some manner. It was complex, like a braided hairstyle, and yet smaller and more intricate still. How curious!
Letting her attentions stretch further away from what she was touching, Lulu suddenly realized that the smell sensations coming from within seemed to line up with what she thought of as home and safety . What strange people! Did they not want to be protected with good, sturdy, earthen walls? She had half a mind to test the strength of this flexible home, but before she’d even started to work up a good cleansing lather, something else caught her attention. Something with a different tinge of familiarity to it. No—something more family than familiar.
She bounded off of the tent, purbling in her most cheerful and bubbly manner to the being who’d just spotted her, and set off on her new quest.
Lulu knew she didn’t need to travel far, but she found she had to do a lot of dodging and rerouting in order to avoid being stepped on. The scrubby had never conceived of so many of her mistress’ kind congregated in one area, and to make the experience even more daunting, they all seemed to be observing her very closely. If they were going to look, she mused, she might as well have some fun. The wurbling puffball increased her speed, and did what she could to be worthy of their interest. She hopped this way and that, burbling a melody compiled from excerpts she’d heard from Morgan. Then with a high leap, she spun so her lacy fronds sparkled with suds in the fading sunlight.
It was at the end of this leap that she landed at the entrance to one particular wagon. With a farewell purble to the crowd that had gathered to watch, Lulu slipped inside and immediately noticed the shy, green scrubby trying to hide behind some containers. Given that they were made of transparent glass, it wasn’t a very effective hiding spot.
Shuffling into the middle of the room, she fluffed her frills into a posture of easy repose, trying to school her larger mass into a less intimidating bulk. Reaching out with her emotions, she sent a quiet burble of greeting to the young scrubby.
The response she got in return was chaotic and would have made her head spin, if she’d had one. The pale green loofah was wavering between excitement and awe at meeting [Loofah Prime: The Scrubby Matriarch], and was visibly vibrating where it stood on the shelf. Lulu found herself filled with the essence of warm laughter at this young one who was clearly unable to decide between quiet prostration and exuberant chatter. She made her reaction known to Pale Green with a low burble, and subtly expressed her desire to know more.
That did it. The other scrubby found its conversational footing and switched very decidedly to the excited end of the spectrum, proudly proclaiming that it was not Pale Green, but instead, Wuffle.
And I am Lulu , she replied. Seeing that the other was no longer quite so uncertain, she hopped up on a chair to be closer to the one she was talking to before asking who it was that had named the young scrubby.
Emotions and images flickered swiftly through the air, and Lulu reached out to taste them all. Discovery of the traveling wooden place that struck her as someone’s home, and peering inside to see what was there. Glass jars sparkling in the daylight, tempting Wuffle’s curious nature. Carefully cleaning delicate things, learning to spin and shift in order to get the difficult, rounded corners just as uncontaminated as the rest. Attention shifting, whirling around as a large being enters the room. Hiding behind s
hining, clean glass.
The images came more swiftly, and Lulu watched as the uneasy truce between the small loofah and the man blossomed into understanding, as the task of cleaning sample jars was more clearly laid out. “Biggles” seemed to be the man’s name, and he had a high bar for cleanliness. Wuffle, for its part, was more than happy to oblige.
The barrage of information faded as Wuffle came to the end of its happy babbling, and the scrubby matriarch shifted her attention to her surroundings. The smell coming off of the cleaned jars sparked Lulu’s curiosity, and as Lulu contemplated them through the lens of the new information she’d gleaned from her conversation, she found herself wanting to learn more. She hopped up onto the shelf with Wuffle, surprising it with how lightly she moved despite her bulk, and scooted inside the nearest dirty container to get a feel for things.
Instantly Lulu was overwhelmed by the remnants of some form of magic that was new to her. It didn’t speak of danger, not exactly, but its strength wasn’t one to be dismissed lightly. It tingled and buzzed all over in a very unfamiliar way, and in a handful of moments, Lulu had backed right out again to escape the unpleasant sensations. A quick self-fluff and a gentle cleanse removed the worst of the buzzing feeling.
Wuffle made a purble of amusement that almost shifted into clicking noises from its intensity. With a smooshing of its body into something akin to a bow, it slid eagerly into the container Lulu had just vacated. The young scrubby spun and danced within, frothing up with a scent-feel the scrubby matriarch could never have previously imagined. Whatever it was, it did the trick, and by the time Wuffle slid back out of the jar, it was literally sparkling with cleanliness.
Lulu was almost consumed by her desire to investigate the strange cleaning ability she’d just seen, but restrained her curiosity to ask first. May I?
Only after the pale green loofah gave a hop of consent did she slide over and reach cautiously over the rim of the jar. To her relief, there was no lingering trace of the unpleasant buzzing to be found. Nothing but shiny cleanliness. She took a brief moment to file away the things she felt for later contemplation. Perhaps she could learn a thing or two from this clever youngster.
Pulling her reaching frill back out from the glass jar, she praised the little one for its thoroughness and ability. To make things as clear as possible, she fluffed out with pride at the way the younger one could accomplish something Lulu herself could not. Wuffle, in turn, was obviously so very pleased at compliments in general. When one came from the matriarch herself, it started vibrating with pleasure so hard that it actually began bouncing on the shelf. Indeed, Wuffle was so beside itself that it didn’t even notice that its tall friend had entered the door of the carriage.
In the brief moment Biggles was aware but the smaller scrubby was not, Lulu watched. She’d gotten decently adept at reading the emotions of her mistress, and while this was certainly not her, she could still detect a good range of things. Surprise was clearly evident on the tall one’s face, as was amusement. There were a handful of smaller emotional elements, but nothing that really stood out to her as concerning, or even worthy of her attention.
The newcomer cleared his throat. “Wuffle?”
The green loofah immediately stopped bouncing, shifting around in embarrassment before giving a gleeful trill and leaping onto its friend’s shoulder.
“Heh. Glad to see you too.” His eyes shifted over to Lulu. “Been making friends?”
Wuffle squished itself into the crook of his neck, chirping in the affirmative, then added a low coo of admiration and respect.
Lulu hopped down onto the chair again, fluffing out in pride and respect in return as she burbled pleasantly. A good friend is important, she said to her descendant in images and feelings, and you seem to have chosen quite well. Taste and absorb and learn and grow together. Become a team.
Wuffle bobbed in understanding, but Biggles only looked confused. To try to make sure the human also understood her, she leaped high to land lightly atop his head. Lulu purbled soothingly as she went to work, massaging his scalp with the gentlest of exfoliations and frothing up to give his hair the most pleasant of cleansings. How better to show approval than to give the gift of something clean?
Something tickled at the back of her mind as she was finishing up the rinse cycle. Her mistress was being fed, and would likely need cleaning shortly. With that in mind, she concluded her work as quickly as she could without sacrificing the quality of her cleaning, then hopped down with a friendly purr.
The man reached up to pat his hair, and as the corner of his mouth twitched, Lulu knew she’d done well. She’d done very well, she amended, as she spotted Wuffle leaning in to investigate. The two friends shared a brief moment, during which she slipped away.
Emerging from the wagon, the scrubby matriarch caught the essence of cooked food in the air. In the distance, she could detect the sounds of eating. Lulu immediately began scurrying back to her mistress.
Further exploration would have to wait for another day. Her own friend would be needing her now.
Chapter 32: A Fireside Chat
Terisa Aras sat on a stool a short distance away from the firepit where her husband was cooking supper. This wouldn’t ordinarily be remarkable, but he was cooking supper for the third time in one evening. A few hours ago, Dana and Morgan had disappeared into the former’s workshop to discuss matters amongst themselves. Dana had appeared quiet and withdrawn, a stark contrast to her earlier eagerness upon meeting the other Worldwalker. When they’d emerged, the newcomer had sat down and begged food and drink, and began to eat.
And eat.
And eat some more.
Dana, meanwhile, had gone back into her shop to analyze her suit’s data, to see if she could figure out what had gone wrong with her munition. Nessara sat to Terisa’s left, still speechless at the display of wanton gluttony they were currently bearing witness to. Kojeg and Graz, the Ursaran youth, had seen the woman’s efforts as a challenge to meet, and had attempted to keep up with the Worldwalker as she devoured plate after plate of grilled meats and spiced vegetables as fast as Foz could serve them. Their efforts had been truly herculean, worthy of any competitive eater, yet they’d been forced to concede. Kojeg lay back against a log in slumber, and Graz had long since wandered off in a sleepy daze. She still showed no signs of slowing down, and Terisa couldn’t do anything but stare as Foz laid another rack of elk ribs on the stone grating, sprinkling it with salt and other spices.
The newcomer’s attire—or, more properly, lack thereof—was certainly striking, especially with her vivid purple tattoos. That wasn’t what had Terisa staring. The Huntress had seen many things in her years, had lived a Story of fame and earned uncountable fortunes through her adventures, and had taken sides in more than one war. Her own abilities barely touched on magics beyond skills with her bow, enhanced senses, and physicality, but she’d seen more spellwork in her life than most. Even the greater working that had sent the burning landslide rushing over the skitterlings didn’t merit much attention, beyond the sheer spectacle and her relief at such an opportune intervention.
She’d never before, however, seen any spellcaster of any class variant rip stones from the ground, mold them into forks, knives, and plates, then sit on a chair that seemed to grow up from the ground to catch the person as they sat down while eating with said utensils—all without touching them by hand. Levitation wasn’t something she had much familiarity with, but one thing Terisa did know was it wasn’t just the total mass that made it difficult. Every separate item so controlled took more effort than the last, so the mages she’d known had either used static enchantments to hold the items aloft, or only lifted two or three objects at most.
“How much Mana is she using?” asked the Huntress in an awestruck whisper, leaning toward Nessara.
“It’s not how much she’s using, I can’t even get a read on that. It has to be a skill!” hissed the mage.
“Oh, speak plain, mighty wizard! I can see she h
as to be using several skills!”
“She’s generating Mana at a prodigious rate, and the more she eats, the more she gains! But I can’t tell where it’s coming from, or going. Her tattoos are enchantments that shouldn’t be possible, and I think some of them are storing it…”
The mage had stopped bothering to whisper, the newcomer seemingly oblivious to the conversation as she devoured more and more food. The woman’s stomach was visibly larger, yet that was fading as her body adapted. She’d seemed thin and gangly upon her arrival at the wall after her staggering display of power, and now the food was replenishing her figure fast enough to be visible to the naked eye. Biggles was preparing a fourth kettle of kaffen on the grate over the coals, and the tattooed spellcaster levitated a large goblet in the necromancer’s direction when she noticed, a goblet formed of solid Mana crystal, as clear as glass and free of imperfections: yet another feat that drew stares and strange looks from both Nessara and Chadwick.
“Mmfh,” sputtered the woman, licking grease off her fingers. “You have no idea how long it’s been since I had salt , and seasoning on food!” The loofah on her shoulder, twice as large as the necromancer’s own Wuffle, made its way down her arm to finish off the last traces on her hands as the crystal goblet floated up for her to take a drink. “And I don’t know what this stuff is, but all I’ve had was water and a bad tea I made once from some flowers I found. It tastes like all that’s good about coffee and hot chocolate!”
The floating plates and forks suddenly converged, the puffball hopping from the woman’s shoulder to clean the last of the mess before the stone crumbled, returning to the earth from which it had been formed. Another shocking display followed, as she seemed to let herself fall backward over her chair, throwing her limbs out. Terisa noticed Chadwick leering at the woman’s naked form, but that wasn’t what had Terisa staring—nor was it that her tattoos were glowing contentedly. Instead of falling to the ground in a heap, the ground itself flowed upward to catch her, as though it were her lover.
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