by Ryan DeBruyn
Maybe the best apology right now is to bring up my news.
He took a deep breath and steeled himself. “Michabo,” he said, hoping to get the ball rolling. A lucky side effect occurred, and Sela stopped picking at his food. Her throbbing forehead vein returned and he forewent his next bite. “He told me a few things in the Spirit Realm, and we need to talk about them.”
“He insinuated a few rather unpleasant things about my family, Rocky!” she shouted.
Rocky looked around abashedly and tried his best to reassure the people staring at them.
Pain and conflict. Those two emotions had become tied to Cathodiem as Sela discovered past secrets and possibly lies. He could understand her reaction.
The thing that hurt him more at this moment was the hope that shined in her tear-filled eyes. He assumed he would feel the same if such grievous accusations about his family existed, searching and hoping that there was some other explanation for any bad deeds.
To see her flushed face drain to white from one blink to the next made Rocky hesitate. His news might destroy that hope, and what little courage her playfulness had instilled quickly fled.
“Rocky, stop feeling bad for me and tell me. Please.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and his knuckles cracked.
He filled his lungs. “The biggest thing he told me was that your guild was the enemy. I don’t know what he meant. He was extremely vague. I think he was worried that you were part of something. He hinted at something else and asked me to question you about something. He wanted me to ask you how many Master Class women you knew in your lifetime?”
Sela flicked her eyes up and to the left. Recollection. Her mouth went from a straight line to a frown. She dropped her head. “I don’t understand why that is important. I didn’t know any, but only a few people can make it to Master class, and even fewer to higher ranks.”
There was something about her head shake, though, that didn’t appear to be denial. The action was more akin to a shiver and trying to remove the goosebumps it caused.
“Sela, there are lists of the highest leveled individuals, males, and females in the Tower. You are actually on the list for top ten strongest females—”
“See, that proves how few make it that high,” Sela countered.
“Please, Sela, just let me say it all first. It will be easier for me, and then we can try to find the holes in it. There is more about Michabo to discuss. Okay?”
He continued before his mouth glued shut on him. “On those lists, there is a huge disparity. The entirety of the top ten, and possibly more, is male.
“That was strange. Stranger, though, was the huge number of women who died or vanished at level one in Master ranks. If the Master rank is like Journeyman, the Etherience needed from level one to two reverts to a smaller number than the last level of the previous rank.”
Sela’s face was ashen, and she breathed in small explosive bursts. He recognized the symptoms of shock, as he had seen it before on a fellow athlete who had ruptured their ACL. He pushed his plate across the table, stood up, and moved to stand behind her back, trying to massage her shoulders.
It was several minutes before she reached for some ‘bacon,’ and her action caused him to sigh in relief. He might have burst her bubble, but it hadn’t been overfilled with hot air.
He continued the massage and talked to the back of her head, “That doesn’t mean Cathodiem was involved in—”
Sela put her hand on his and patted it. “Rockland, I will be okay. I have been struggling with a question ever since I appeared to be your guide. I am still not entirely sure myself, but learning your Ether Cleanse skill makes me wonder how no one in my family knew of it. Why they didn’t find someone in the Etherverse that did?”
She turned around and motioned with her head for him to sit back down. She didn’t return his plate, though, and he eyed it out of the corner of his eye as food disappeared. Sela continued talking in between bites. “I didn’t tell you this, but the poison used was Chimera venom. I’m not even sure how the Martians came to possess a poison local to Gaia. While I was given a ton of medicines and seen by numerous healers, no one could cure it. All they did was prolong my suffering. I have honestly been considering testing Azoth’s poison on someone after teaching them the Ether Cleanse skill. I don’t know if I will actually do it, or if I just haven’t captured an enemy that I can let die.”
Rocky scratched his unruly hair and tried to think of a politically correct response, yet, he couldn’t find one. But he didn’t have to.
“Yeah, I know, not worth it. Also a waste of the Chimera poison. I just want to confirm my suspicions, but this latest news kind of does that already. Is there anything else?” Sela asked.
He nodded and pulled his lips back. “I think Michabo is stealing a portion of the extra Territorial Etherience the Tower is generating. I am not certain if it is his doing, but I am absolutely sure half of the Etherience is going into the Altar.”
Rocky motioned over his shoulder, attempting to get someone’s attention. A cook rushed over and brought him some more food. Perfect.
Sela bit down with exaggerated force into a piece of bread. “Did it look like you could do anything to change it?”
He shook his head and munched on a piece of bacon, savoring the flavors.
“I don’t trust this Michabo character. If he is a member of the Algonquin Guild, I was vastly misinformed of their strength. To own a place of power and an entire realm outside of reality...”
Sela stole his plate of food again, and he pursed his lips. He wanted to be upset but was impressed with the amount of food she was consuming. He turned around and motioned to the chef again. The man didn’t look happy but brought another plate over. The conversation continued, and they discussed possibilities and their distrust of Michabo.
A bell Rocky hadn’t heard before rung through the Territory, and he shot to his feet. The last time he had heard the static noise of a public announcement was from his high school days.
Smith’s electronic voice filled the air. “Morning training begins in ten minutes; make your way to the courtyard.” The man must have discovered a communications terminal in the tower.
Sela smiled and admired the scaled interior of the ceiling, “This is just like Atlantean Academy.” Rocky hoped Sela was recalling good memories.
Perhaps, by the end of the day, we can have another Territory to add to this one. If not that, we will have saved the people of North Bay.
They stood up and added their four empty clay plates to a pile of dirty dishes. A disgruntled looking older man scrubbed the plates. Rocky stopped and asked, “Aren’t you going to take a break for training?”
The older man gestured at the stacks of plates. “If I take a break, people won’t be able to eat after training.”
The man scrubbed each plate and utensil by hand in one sink, then dipped them into two rinsing sinks before stacking the clean plates on a nearby counter. Even a basic restaurant had a dishwashing machine. Still, post-apocalypse, they had lost some of the comforts of their previous life.
I am getting a Starship in a few hours. I think we can afford a dishwasher.
“The people who want to eat after training will just have to wait. Training is much more important. Get changed, and report to the square.”
The dishwasher’s stare bounced from Sela to the kitchen, and back. It reminded Rocky of a man who did not want to get fired from his job, and he Analyzed him.
Marcel Grey
Apprentice-Geologist
Level 13
Health Points: 110 / 110
“Marcel, is there a reason you are washing dishes when your class is a Geologist?” asked Rocky.
Marcel’s mouth opened wide, but no sound emerged.
Sela looked at Rocky, and he just held up a hand, asking her to wait for the response. The last thing Marcel needed right now was someone else ordering him around.
“I need to be earning money. I can’t just be a fre
eloader in this Territory. As much as some jobs are distasteful, someone has to do them, or they just won’t get done.”
He has a point.
“Very admirable, Marcel,” said Rocky. He pointed to the dish pit. “We need everyone gaining strength. With so few humans left, there is going to come a time that a single strong individual may be the difference between slavery and freedom.”
Marcel looked like a fish out of water, finally managing to squeeze some words out. “Who are you two?”
Zippo chose that moment to leave the kitchen in the back. Spotting Sela and Rocky, he exclaimed, “Let’s go, guys! The two Territorial leaders can’t be late for their scheduled training!”
Rocky grinned at Marcel and winked before following Zippo out of the Mess Hall.
***
Rocky and Sela arrived in the courtyard and found Smith waiting impatiently for them. He strode in their direction as soon as they were visible. Not even fully stopped in front of them, he launched into his plans. “I think we need to announce the tower and the possibility of searching for family members. I also believe we should let everyone know about the impending invasion. If we are transparent, it will motivate people to work hard.”
Sela ran her hand through her long blonde hair.
Rocky opened his mouth to speak, remembered Sela’s disdain for lying, and quickly clamped his mouth shut. In his mind, omission was also a form of lying, so he nodded his assent.
“You want me to make the announcement, don’t you?” he asked.
Smith patted his back and expertly got Rocky’s feet moving toward the much less ‘makeshift’ stage. Tao waited nearby, ready to guide morning training. The other four Knights were with him, and he wondered if the training would be led by the five of them today.
If he was honest, he didn’t fully recall the brief announcements he made on stage. When he returned to Smith, Sela, and Zippo, he was sweating. The crowd was also cheering, “Algonquin! Algonquin!” into the morning air.
***
Smith clapped him on the back, “That was awesome, Rocky. Especially the part about ‘fighting for every inch’!”
Ok, so I was inspired by an inspirational movie.
He remembered feeling tingles all over his shoulders the first time he had seen that particular scene. His team had often played a re-enactment over a boombox before games. While he was sure some in the crowd realized where the speech originated, it didn’t change its meaning.
“This is so very different from the Silver Spires—I find myself wanting to see the Grotto’s future,” Sela said, musing almost to herself.
“Today, we will begin with combat training. Tao has informed me that you all know basic combat stance and readiness, so we can spend today’s session discussing striking angles,” Epsilon said.
For the next thirty minutes, the group, Rocky included, attempted to copy the moves the Knights demonstrated. Epsilon used Tao as an example, instructing the golem to punch or kick slowly, even pausing actions mid-strike. He pointed out blind spots the motion created, and attack angles opponents could use to capitalize on them.
Sela and Rocky paired up. As they sparred, she shared extra tips with Rocky, building on Epsilon’s instructions. Many of the points she added were from his ongoing training with the Seraphim Sword. In thirty sweaty minutes, he learned just how much he had left to discover.
After Epsilon’s session, Delta took over, guiding Meditation training and demonstrating a multitude of different circulatory patterns that one could practice with their internal Ether. “These patterns, if practiced often, can drastically increase your skills. It is said that each individual has a pattern that resonates most within them, but that may just be a myth.”
After the training, Sela, Rocky, and a very excited Zippo made their way to the shop. It was time to get their first look at the starship they had purchased. They entered the shop in disguise again and made their way to Garnell’s stall. He was with another customer but made some hand gestures, and a menu popped up. Rocky confirmed the transfer of one Crystal for the destroyer class ship, The Scourge.
Nothing happened.
He exited the shop and made his way back outside, trying to keep himself from fuming. Once they had reemerged, however, he stood stockstill, staring. The warehouse was no longer a rectangle. Instead, it had shifted into a wide frame that was left open to the air on both sides. The back end of a Starship extended away from the shop. It was so long that the engines were sitting mere inches away from a few parked tanks, near the military barracks. It was a little too close— two bent tank muzzles wedged under the engines groaned beneath the weight.
Damnit, I didn’t expect it to be this big. I hope the tanks are still functional.
He backed away from the ship, attempting to take in the entirety of the construct. It reminded him of something from Starship Troopers. The sides were relatively boxy and straight, with multiple decks. At the aft of the ship, four humongous square tubes protruded. Two were above the ship, while the two below were what had bent the tanks. The front end of the vessel rounded slightly, with a bit of a boat hull tapering upward. He assumed that the front end of the ship housed the captain’s deck.
He walked up to the front of the vessel and changed course when he saw something that looked like a doorway. On his approach, a notification popped up.
Welcome to the destroyer class ship, ‘The Scourge.’ As the owner of the warehouse, you have been granted access to the vessel. Would you like to enter?
Yes | No | Read the Manual
You must read the manual and accept the terms and conditions before you are allowed to enter.
Oh, come on. Like anyone actually reads the manual.
Zippo saw the notification and sat down beside Rocky, “Maybe we can read it together?”
Chapter Nineteen
Smith swapped in two fighter pilots to read the manual, and Rocky excused himself. To his surprise, Zippo stayed behind to read. It wasn’t just the ‘skimming to the end and clicking accept,’ either. He was reading thoroughly and even taking notes on a Knowledge Tablet.
Rocky had yet to check on the status of the Crafter’s Hall. Now that they no longer had an overcrowded housing situation, the builders were a little less harried.
He walked by the new buildings currently under construction, and found that two more Longhouses were going up, as well as what appeared to be a completed Crafter’s Hall right beside the Mess Hall.
On his approach, a man wearing a safety helmet and a dirty dress shirt looked up and nodded before looking back to his plans.
Rocky Analyzed him.
Karl Keerdint
Apprentice-Engineer
Level 19
Health Points 290 / 290
Karl’s health points were high, and he briefly wondered why. He decided that wasn’t important.
Walking up to the man, Rocky asked, “Any idea what the hold up is on the Crafter’s Hall? We need it—”
Karl gave him a side-eye sharp enough to cut him and went back to his plans. When Rocky made no move to leave, Karl looked at the building and sighed. “Just like I tell everyone else who asks,” he gestured over to a group of people sitting in the grass. One person sewed leather together, and another worked with mortar and pestle.
Rocky rose up on his toes to see what was in the mortar—dried leaves ground down to powder. Was that what he needed?
“It will be finished when I am sure it isn’t going to kill someone. Just because the roof is up doesn’t mean it can withstand the forces you folks are going to put it through,” said Karl.
For a moment, Rocky wasn’t sure what he was insinuating, when a massive boom echoed from the circle of crafters. Rocky flinched and darted his eyes over the smoke-filled area. He stepped forward, but Karl put his arm out and shook his head. Had those crafters just killed themselves?
People exited the area one by one. Not one of them coughed. Instead, the smoke seemed to part around them, leaving clean air in a one-foo
t diameter around their skin.
One of the women, escaping the smoke, shouted, “Fennel, this is the fourth time today. Can you please go work away from the group? Just because we have our shields up doesn’t mean it doesn’t disturb our work.”
Rocky looked to Karl, the dour man shook his head.
“Wait, are you not letting them in because they are a danger to the building?” asked Rocky as understanding dawned.
“Listen, I say when this building—” Karl paused as he took in Rocky’s sword and combat gear. Clicking his tongue, the builder asked, “You aren’t a Crafter, are you? Let me guess—you are this Leader I keep hearing about?”
Rocky nodded, and Karl’s face grew thunderous.
“Follow me,” he said.
A half-second ticked by before the man’s harsh words registered. Rocky shook his head and jogged for a moment as he caught up with the Engineer.
They entered the building, and Karl pointed out each area and the problem with the current design.
“That there is supposed to be the Alchemy and Herbalist section. Fennel out there is mixing herbs and causing plumes of smoke.” Karl pointed to a corner. “My boys have opened an exhaust pipe, but the exhaust fan hasn’t been approved yet.”
Rocky was secretly happy he wasn’t the only person struggling with a mortar and pestle problem. He kept pace as Karl walked into another area.”This here is the Forge and Blacksmithing area. Once we move the forge and equipment in here, that is. Now, look up. Do you see any sprinkler systems in case of fires? The boys have roughed the pipes in, but we can’t buy the tank or the sprinkler heads yet.”
Each room had minor issues that Karl pointed out. Each solution would increase efficiency, safety, or production. In some cases, all three. Rocky hadn’t heard about any of these problems at the town hall meetings. Actually, the last person he had heard speak to these issues had been—Derik?
Damnit. As much as I dislike him, I have to admit he does get things done.