Artorian's Archives Omnibus

by Dennis Vanderkerken

  How had that happened? “Hey, get back to work if you’re awake!”

  Artorian stopped what he was doing, glancing at the Captain, not comprehending that the statement had been intended for him. He looked around, but then pointed a finger at himself. “Me?”

  “Yes, you! Get to Ww~w~w~w…” *Thunk*. The Captain collapsed, a sizable snore erupting from the grounded figure. Artorian widely smiled.

  Success! That was easier to do when you had some spare Essence to throw around. A quick check showed that he had low D-ranks of Essence stored. Good enough, and an impressive display of Essence draw from his new pearly cultivation method! He brushed the hay from himself and did some easy stretches as a few men ran over to check on the fallen Captain.

  “Ueh… Sir! We’ve got another one!”

  An irritated voice called from the other side of the tables. “Who this time? If they don’t get themselves back into shape, I swear I will stab them myself!”

  The worker swallowed, “It’s… the other Captain. Sir.”

  A momentary silence followed a sturdy set of heavy stomps as the primary raider Captain came into view of a happily conked out secondary Captain. “But… he was…”

  The Primary Captain held his head. Oh no. No. no, no. It was still happening?

  “Excuse me, young man.” The Captain whirled around, coming face to face with a hunched over old man that seemed to be the only one in a pleasant mood. “I’m a little foggy, but if you need a witness to explain this to a superior; I was right here when it happened. I’d gladly tell them for you!”

  The raider Captain nearly went for his axe, but paused and counted his blessings. Someone to take the fall for him? Perfect! “Oh, yes, of course. Come with me.”

  He motioned for the secondary Captain to be dealt with, and hurried off to what looked to be the second or third fanciest tent in the entire camp. The old man was right behind him, a bundle of smiles. It was honestly pretty unsettling, but it wasn’t going to be the Captain’s problem for much longer. The guards let him by without so much as a blink, and he knocked on the wooden pole outside of a suede-lined tent.

  “Captain Hightail, reporting on the situation in camp, Your Grace!”

  “Enter,” a familiar feminine voice replied, and Artorian’s day was made. Forget the C-rank disaster. This was going to be good.

  When the Captain took the step through the velvety folds of the tent, he collapsed and fell right onto his face. Affected by instant sleep. The fallen body was obscured inside of the tent. The guards outside were none the wiser, noise or not. Even had they heard, it mattered little. They were also collapsing straight into snooze-land.

  Oh, Artorian liked this effect. Blanket-field application of a sleep effect via minor oxygen deprivation and a mental push to commence a sleep cycle? Why, yes. Yes, this would go marvelously when applied into the radius of a malleable Aura. Artorian figured this wouldn’t work against cultivators, but against mere mortals? Oh, so easy.

  “Captain?” Astrea’s voice contained a note of alarm.

  Artorian stepped through the velvet tent folds, stance tall with both his arms nestled along the small of his back. His long beard was free of hay, and his blue eyes fondly regarded his long-lost child. The ex-elder of the Fringe village of Salt stepped into full view.

  “Not quite, I believe the correct term… is grandfather.” His expression blossomed to life when he saw the consternation on her face melt to one of recognition and emotional distress. “Hello, my dear.”

  Astrea’s mouth hung open. Her throat bulged and bobbed, the words stuck inside. She was trying to speak, but her brain couldn’t decide which words needed to come out, or in what order. “E… elder?”

  Internally, Artorian grumbled at the title. Yet, if there was anyone with permission to use it, most certainly his children could. Now, he wasn’t having this ‘Your Grace’ nonsense, and verbally established where she placed in his heart. “Daughter.”

  His Aura shifted to the soothing starlight emanation, though he was careful to contain the effect only to the space he desired. Waking up the Captain was… not a dice roll he was willing to make. Instead, he spread his arms out. “Give your old man a hug. You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

  *Ooof*! Astrea barreled into the Elder full force. Heavens, she was strong! She was… Artorian frowned a little, even though he held her tightly in a hug. “An infernal cultivator?”

  He felt the sturdy woman nod into his robes, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “I’m going to want the story of how that happened later. First…”

  Artorian beamed a smile at her as she pulled back, sniffling while wiping her face clean. “How about we take you home; or at the minimum, out of here?”

  Astrea’s frown deepened, and her grip on his Gi turned strenuous. “How are you alive? You look… you look the same…”

  Her tears came back in full force. She had him in her hand, literally had the old man by the robes, and she couldn't believe it. She’d had delusions. Endless nightmares of what had happened to the village. Her nose remembered the smells, both fresh and sooty. Her skin remembered the touch of Fringe waters, both crystal and bloodied. She remembered the playful demeanor of an Elder that taught them the skills that had gotten her this far.

  Nosy trickery and a detail-oriented mindset. “Well, you, my dear, look beautiful and fantastic. It was one of my greatest hopes that when I saw you again, you would be alive. Let an old father count his blessings that his precious daughter is both well, and such a wonder. I’m so proud of you for making it through all of this.”

  The sniffly Astrea buried herself back into the robe as emotions rose up, and Artorian protectively held her head. He kissed the top of her hair like a doting father; just happy to see his family again! “I’m so, so proud of you.”

  No amount of status or power prevented Astrea from feeling miserably weak. For once, she didn’t fight it. There was a deep sensation of comfort, and a pain inside of her felt suppressed while in her Elder’s presence. The recurring awful thoughts just… faded. She was free from the nightmare’s grip. This felt like… home. It smelled like home.

  Her senses were far stronger than they’d been all those years ago. Had it been three full hands worth of time in years? That long? She wiped her face using her Elder’s robes, like she used to when she was small and afraid of everything. Now she was afraid of nothing. Everything was afraid of her. “I missed you, Elder.”

  He grumbled a little, but rubbed the back of her head. “Artorian. The name is Artorian now. Picked it myself!”

  Astrea laughed and softly punched him in the shoulder. “Did you, now! What does it mean?”

  The old man glanced at the floor first. Captain still asleep? Captain still asleep. Good. Artorian paced through the tent, and had a look about. “Oh, plenty! We can talk about that on the trip. I have a hidden spatial bag, what do you need to pack in a hurry? I take it you’re leaving with me, yes?”

  He paused a moment, needing to ask the question. This was Astrea, but… that didn’t mean it was still the Astrea he knew. “Pft. Are you kidding? I have a better exit strategy than some fool who tried to take down Duskgrove castle on his own! I knew that was you. I just knew it! That whole chest in the corner, right there. Everything I need or want is in that one.”

  Artorian relaxed as she hurried over to throw it open, completely ignoring the important documents that needed to be taken care of concerning this raider camp. He just beamed; she was still his daughter from the Fringe. “Why couldn’t you just send a letter, like everyone else?”

  Her Elder took it as an actual question, not noticing she was being facetious. “Well, only landowners can send mail, and I wasn’t one for a while. Speaking of, Lunella and Wuxius are safely back home in the Fringe. I got to them first, and they’re having a baby!”

  Astrea was aghast at what she’d missed, but dented her fist on his shoulder regardless. “That’s not how the world works anymore! You can send mail
anytime now, so long as you can afford the parcel. Also, that’s wonderful! So all five of us are still around!”

  Artorian rubbed his shoulder. That had hurt? He’d better be careful. They got matters settled at a military pace once they both got in gear. Packing all of Astrea’s personal effects and a cluster of raider materials that could be darn useful against them in the future. Astrea ‘The Nightmare’ had no love, affection, or strong allegiance to this group. She even spat on the Captain on their way out of the tent, and that was after unsuccessfully convincing her Elder they couldn’t take the tent, no matter how cozy it was!

  “...Will anyone notice if they’re all asleep?”

  “It’s the middle of the day. Of course someone will notice!”

  Artorian rephrased his line of thinking. “If we take the tent, would anyone stop us?”

  Astrea threw her hands up. “Of course not! Nobody would interfere with my work, but as soon as the tent is gone, people will see these snoring bodies.”

  The old man wondered how that detail had slipped by him. “Oh. Right. We’d best hurry up afterwards then.”

  *Aargh! You’re incorrigible!” Artorian nodded. She was right.

  “Incorrigible with a cozy tent in my pocket!” He ripped the rich cloth down straight from the scaffolding and stuffed it into his spatial pouch. They really needed to go, and he didn’t much care how messy it got. Astrea saw the sheer amount of sleeping bodies around her when the tent vanished into her Elder’s back pocket. How long had he had one of those? How old was he? How had he gotten into her camp and put her best guards to sleep?

  …It could wait. It could all wait. A Fringe-style idea sprung to mind. “Should we cause discord in the camp before leaving?”

  Artorian stopped what he was doing, and a sly fox grin plastered itself on his face. “My dear… I’m all ears.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Artorian and Astrea hustled. The kind of hurried pace that to the untrained eye could easily have been mistaken for a full-out run. Well, no, that wasn’t a mistake. They were booking it to the mountain. An itsy bitsy teeny weeny army of raiders a few thousand strong just happened to be hot on their tail. Then, there was the seemingly endless tide of geese.

  The raider army paled in comparison to these horrible honkers. “I thought you said the Royal Advisor’s pets would turn on the raiders!” Artorian’s words were a mixture of cross and laughing.”

  Astrea was miffed, pushing branches out of the way of the run as her Elder questioned her… admittedly unsuccessful plan. “I didn’t expect the feathered ferocities to be loyal! They attacked anyone that came close to their pens! I had more reports of geese bites and bird complaints than anything else!”

  A goopy explosion flared in front of them, the foliage disintegrating as grey energy consumed the plant life. They leapt over the momentary self-spreading consumption effect, broke some branches by crashing through a set of ferns, and kept up the pace as they resumed the tactical retreat. Artorian shot Astrea a look.

  “No, I didn’t know those abyssal quacks were Beasts until now! Stop yelling at me!” Another set of grey bolts crashed down nearby as the infernal geese giving chase above spat globs of ‘consumptive grey goo’. “I guess that explains how the population was kept under control so easily.”

  The old man frowned; breath steady as they both skittered through sudden rocky terrain. “The raiders ate geese? That can’t be tasty!”

  Astrea grabbed her old man by the sleeve and tugged him out of the way of a grey goo bombardment line as a goose delta formation launched a joint-assault fly-by. “Other way around, the geese are carnivores! Also, not tasty!”

  Artorian returned the favor, pulling them the other way as the goose bomber squad pulled a U-turn and launched another globby mess down at them. The goo had a limited effect. Much like acid, it burned and dissolved material until the reactions ran dry, at which point it just stopped. “Are you telling me that goo stuff is Essence-infused partially-digested raider?”

  The rushed escape tired Astrea, but the restorative glow cascading off her old man kept her invigorated. She’d have run out of energy by now if it hadn’t been for the help. Looking over her shoulder, Astrea saw the geese aggressively dive at people not them. When the feathery furies ascended back to the sky, they each had a freshly-ripped limb in their sharp beaks. “Very likely!”

  In their hurry, they passed black eyes stalking them from the shrubbery. Something heavy kept pace with them, or a large number of smaller things did. The hilly forest they were bounding through had inhabitants. As the geese dove upon them once more, the natural denizens that had claimed this area snatched them from the sky. Astrea’s eyes went wide, and her face paled as she picked up the pace further.

  “C’towls! You went through C’towl territory to beeline for the encampment? You’re more insane than I remember!”

  Artorian altered to a series of elongated hops since his daughter’s sudden burst of speed required him to hold onto his beard, just to prevent it from flapping into his face. “I didn’t notice these when I came though, what are they! They took out a flock of death-geese like swatting a fly!”

  She yelled out a hasty response, feeling the eyes on her. “C’towls!”

  A good-natured grumble came back at her. “Which are what!”

  Astrea noticed the leapfrogging her Elder was doing, and decided that altitude was a good thing to have. There were now two Beast species that hunted from air, and either way she sliced it, she was stuck with both until they reached the mountain. “Cat owls! If you’ve never seen the species… hawk-lynx?”

  Her Elder held onto his butt, lifting himself up and over a grey goo ball that exploded beneath him. The disintegration devoured an entire fern in a matter of seconds. He bounced butt-first on a hard-light platform and launched himself right back up from the top branch of a tree. “I know what cats and owls are! Never heard of the combination!”

  His daughter was scowling at him, and moved her head to dodge a poison-coated arrow that stuck a hog on the way down. She didn’t have time to grab the bacon, even if it was her favorite meat. There were several more pressing concerns. “How are you doing that?”

  Laughter erupted beside her. “I’ll teach you after the debacle is over! I’m of the strong opinion any Essence can create any effect. The details and side effects are just different. I can’t wait to break out my philosophy tomes and woops!”

  A C’towl lashed out with a claw as it jumped past him, the catlike creature gliding on massive owl-wings that stuck out from the sides of its thick fluff-coated body. Their eyes were small and black, and he noted a geometric pattern on the forehead. Several even. The creature was dual tone. Its belly fur was of a lighter color than the rest of it, and the front of its throat was an extra-thick fatty mess of fluff.

  This was the frightening creature that lived in the hills? It was barely the size of a housecat, and even then, they were all fat! He cycled some Essence, and… oh. Not fat at all. That was a very thick coat of fluff, and the lithe body underneath was all claws and muscle. Yet… look at its adorable widdle eyes! “They’re so cute!”

  Astrea rolled her eyes. “Apex. Predators!”

  She groaned when she saw her Elder’s massive, gleaming smile. He got even louder as another one shot past him, pouncing from the camouflaged position of tree foliage. “Apex predator with toe beans! They’re cu~u~ute! I want one. Auwch!”

  A C’towl had pounced from the other direction, and he’d not been paying enough attention. This one sunk its claws and mouth into his leg, but it was confused when its natural weapons didn’t pierce as deeply as it wanted.

  *Mao*! The dark brown and soft mocha C’towl pulled its claws free and abandoned this target. Sure, it had been fun to pounce at the fluttery-robe creature while it was in the sky, but it didn’t taste like a meal. It decided to leave the front-runners of the food pack well enough alone. Instead, it let out a high-pitched mewl and turned its attention to the flying snack
s.

  It decided then and there: Geese were what’s tasty.

  Artorian was still laughing. Even with his Aura’s help, Astrea was panting. Her humanoid pursuers had given up after that last area, given the geese bombing runs were… indiscriminate. Also, when they ran out of grey goo, they were hungry. That the duo were included on the menu was an excellent reason not to stop running. Running into a C’towl nest was the last straw for the raiders.

  “That should buy us a day!” Astrea wiped the sweat off her forehead as she made her declaration. Her muscles burned, and the infernal Essence boosts were starting to take their toll. Her Elder’s soothing effects were only making those side effects worse. Whatever she had, it didn’t mesh on a deep and fundamental level with grandfather’s glow. Her stagger didn’t go unnoticed.

  “Alley-oop!” By the time she looked to ask what that meant, her arm had been tugged over his shoulder. Astrea was getting a piggyback ride? She flushed bright red. “I am not five anymore! I’m almost… err.”

  She counted on one hand, but got stuck a few times. She was somewhere between seventeen to twenty-three. Math was hard. No, either way it didn’t matter!

  “My dear, you’re never too old to get a little help. Now hold on, we’ve been going at your leisurely D-rank four pace. Since you’re saddled, let’s travel my way!”

  Astrea blinked. How was there any different kind of travel? He wasn’t going to pull a full-sized mount out of that little pouch, was he? No… surely… she didn’t finish the thought. With her old man, even nonsense like that was plausible. She thought he’d been dead for years, and had just been doing her best since then. Her attempt at words cut short as a high pitch *Eeee* left her panicking throat.

  Artorian had jumped. Not one of those little cutesy leapfrog jumps for bouncing between trees. A real jump. The kind that got you halfway up a mountain and left a crater so large that it would take seven men a week of dedicated digging to create a similar landscap -dent.