Gods of Myth and Midnight: A LitRPG Novel (Seeds of Chaos Book 3)

by Azalea Ellis

  A blue, transparent shield swept over the top of the trench, forcing the rain to the sides.

  I looked to Torliam and screamed to be heard over my gas mask, the torrential rain, and the howling wind. “It’ll destroy the supplies!”

  He raised himself to look over the edge of the trench, and then back to me. “We must go to them,” he roared. “I cannot hold off the rain from both ourselves and the supplies!”

  Nothing more needed to be said, so we all scrambled out of the rapidly submersing trench and huddled around the supply pallets, crouched low to the ground. The rain continued to crash down, seemingly endless. At least the lightning had stopped. Torliam’s shield flickered more than a few times under the force of the storm, and he grew pale, but Adam wasn’t in any shape to take over for him, and I couldn’t consume more than a minute of rain with Chaos.

  Zed looked around, squinting to see past the obscuring sheets of acid precipitation. “There aren’t many cracks in this place. I think I see one about a hundred meters that way,” he pointed. “But I’m not sure escaping into the Other Place is a good idea, with how wet we are. Still, maybe we could shelter the supplies in there. Anything with a charge will get drained, but it’s better than all our supplies getting melted or contaminated.”

  I knew Torliam was weakening, so, unless the rain stopped soon, Zed’s ability was our only option. Each of us grabbed part of the pallet and hauled it forward together, and when we reached the crack, Zed tore it open and we shoved the supplies through.

  I leaned away from the rip, as the bitter smell wafting through it somehow filtered through my gas mask and burned the hairs away from the inside of my nostrils, while the cold turned the rain falling through the opening into sleet almost immediately. “That’s not a solution for living beings,” I agreed, coughing.

  Without the supplies, we huddled much closer together, and Torliam was able to conserve his power. The rain continued till the stone and once-cracked earth beneath our feet turned to shallow, fast-moving rivers and mud. Then it stopped, as abruptly as it had started.

  We waited a moment, too wary to fully trust in our reprieve.

  When the light of the red sun shone down on us again, Gregor stood up, returning to normal from his Shadow state. He weaved a bit from the fatigue of holding his Skill active through the whole ordeal. “I hate camping,” he said, the words even more vehement for having to be forced out through a gas mask.

  I sighed, refraining from voicing my own agreement. Maybe I’d like it more if nature didn’t always try to kill me. “Torliam, is your Skill giving you any idea how far we might need to go, till we reach the god?”

  He nodded, smoothing down his short blonde beard while studiously avoiding looking at me. “Far.”

  The days in this strange new land were scorching, while the nights grew frigid, like a never-ending temperature see-saw designed to kill everything. Or, according to Kris’ Skill, designed to make sure nothing ever had a chance to live in the first place. In fact, though the landscape held none of the Estreyan beauty, it was similar to Estreyer in that it did its utmost to kill us.

  One day, an earthquake opened up gaping chasms in the ground that seemed to reach after us as we ran desperately away, forced to outrace the earth as it fell apart behind us.

  Another day, we came upon our first sign of real vegetation—desert cacti with bulbous red fruit sprouting from their green pads.

  Chanelle reached for one, ignoring the tiny spines that dug themselves into her flesh.

  Jacky slapped it from her hand before the other girl could bite down on it.

  Chanelle looked down at the red fruit, now covered in dirt and sand, as if she would cry.

  Jacky grabbed her hands and started pulling out the spines. “Don’t be stupid,” she said. “You can’t eat anything till Sam tries it first and makes sure it won’t kill you.”

  Sam obligingly plucked another of the fruits, burning the spines off carefully with a lighter from his pack before ripping it open and biting into the juicy middle. He moaned aloud as juice dribbled down his chin. He swallowed and moved to take another bite, but suddenly froze.

  “Poisonous?” I asked.

  “I think…it’s a hallucinogenic. My Skill should be able to handle—” his words cut off as a violent heave wracked through his body. Vomit burst from his mouth, streaming out like a repulsive geyser.

  Jacky quick-stepped backward to avoid being splashed, and we watched in morbid fascination as Sam emptied his stomach, down to the last drop.

  He wiped his mouth, color returning to his face surprisingly quickly. “Yeah. Don’t eat those.”

  I gave him an emphatic nod. “I have absolutely no desire to eat them, I promise.”

  Gregor scowled at the ground, which was already soaking up the vomit. “Can we move on, please? The smell of Sam’s stomach juices is not my fragrance of choice.”

  Kris frowned at the ground around the cacti. “There aren’t any dead plants around here. Either these things are like…immortal plants, or they just popped out of nowhere.”

  After that, we avoided them even more warily.

  When we’d passed them by a few hundred meters, Sam groaned. His face was still pale and beaded with sweat, despite having already expelled everything from his stomach. Then, he started to wander off, mumbling incoherently to himself.

  “Crap,” I said. “It must be that fruit. Jacky, grab him.”

  Jacky went over to do just that, but as soon as she grabbed his arm, her skin started smoking. She jerked her hand back with a scream.

  As if startled by the sound, Sam stumbled away from her and started screaming, too.

  I stepped forward, ready to act if Sam started attacking with Black Sun’s power.

  Instead, he dry heaved a few times and then violently flailed at the air, as if he could see something we couldn’t.

  I checked with Wraith but found no sign of an attack. “I think he’s hallucinating,” I said. “Let’s just let him wear himself out. He’s too dangerous like this.”

  Sam fought invisible enemies with surprisingly realistic motions, even tossing himself to the ground when he was “hit.” His hands sprouted a variety of damage effects, some of them that I’d never seen before, like glowing green spores that floated on the air like tiny dandelions. I completely disintegrated those with a wave of Chaos, to be safe.

  Finally, after a good hour of fighting and dry heaving till he dribbled out green bile, he fell to his knees in exhaustion. I wished belatedly that I’d had something to record him with, so that we could tease him once he came back to his senses.

  Without any more resistance from Sam, Torliam made a sled out of his power and pulled the exhausted boy along behind us.

  A couple weeks into our travel, we hadn’t found a hint of the god’s presence yet, and were nearly out of water. It had rained several times, and we’d even been forced to cross a fast-moving river. The problem was, all the water in this place was dangerously acidic.

  At night, when I wasn’t one of the two people on rotation for watch, I tried and failed to solve the Oracle’s puzzle or practiced using the black flames when no one was around to watch me screw up. The chemistry book had given me a lot of ideas, but a theoretical understanding of molecules didn’t seem to allow me to actually control them with Chaos in the real world. My numerous attempts to extract oxygen from water were evidence of this. Finally, I had an idea, and I set Wraith to work on a drop of water, focusing all my awareness on it. If I could go deep enough, maybe I’d be able to see what it was I was doing wrong. That didn’t work out so well, either. My Perception was mostly trained for wide-area searches. Distinguishing individual molecules was about as opposite of that as one could get. Still, thoughts of those horrifying dreams kept me practicing till I fell into an exhausted sleep for the few hours my Resilience needed to replenish my energy every night.

  Kris had taken to letting Pinocchio ride on Birch’s back. The two of them would bound about, Pinocchio
directing Birch or drawing the monster cat’s attention to whatever happened to interest the spirit. Torliam, who had not known of Pinocchio’s autonomy, watched with wide eyes as Pinocchio grew excited and hopped off Birch’s back to pick up a slab of rock shaped vaguely like a horseshoe and hang it around his neck, all while Kris was busy having an argument with Gregor about the best way to assassinate an enemy.

  Pinocchio proved his worth when Kris and Birch were playing with him a short distance away from the main group, and Kris was swallowed by quicksand.

  Birch had been able to blow himself and his tiny rider into the air with his Gale Skill, gliding over to the main group while wailing loudly.

  Pinocchio jumped off Birch’s back onto the nearest person, Zed, and tugged desperately at his ear while pointing to the spot Kris had disappeared.

  We rescued her without much trouble, and were able to filter the quicksand for its water content to replenish our own supplies, since the sand had already removed most of the other impurities from the water.

  Torliam had praised Birch, “the magnificent creature,” and gave him a strip of jerky. “It is a tragedy, that he is the last of his kind.” He looked into the distance, in the direction we’d been traveling. “Perhaps, when we find the God of Shaping and Molding, he will be able to make another, for Birch to have a companion.”

  I followed Torliam’s gaze. “He can do that?”

  Torliam’s expression closed off, but he nodded. “The histories going back that far do contradict one another sometimes, but it is said that he molded the gods to make Estreyer itself.”

  Internally, I sighed. I hadn’t realized how much Torliam’s attitude toward me had changed since we first met, till he reverted to coldness and anger. “Do those histories say why he disappeared in the first place?”

  “There is only speculation. Some believe he never even existed in the first place. I believe that is obviously false. Some say that he may have been wounded in his struggle against the Sickness, and retreated to recover. Some postulate that the Sickness actually killed him, or that he was exiled against his will. Others believe that he removed himself from the realm of mortals because we proved ourselves unworthy of his aid.”

  I stretched my awareness into the distance, as I had done so many times before, and found nothing except the power that infused this whole land. “Do you think he made this place, too, perhaps? I can feel power everywhere, just no actual god.”

  “I believe it is quite possible this realm is entirely his creation. When we find him, our questions will be answered.”

  “How much farther?”

  “Far.”

  “That’s what you always say.” I turned to scowl at him.

  He raised an eyebrow, looking down his nose at me. “And yet, you all continue to ask me the same question, like children, though there are only two true children here.”

  My nostrils flared in irritation, and I stomped away to go blow up rocks with Chaos.

  Chapter 27

  And yonder all before us lie Deserts of vast eternity.

  —Andrew Marvell

  Jacky had taken to training the kids whenever we weren’t fighting for our lives against the volatile wilderness. “This is dangerous. The best defense is an overwhelmingly powerful offense, remember? I gotta make sure nothing happens to them,” she’d said to me.

  Adam sat on a large rock at the edge of the campsite where they were practicing, bottles of ink laid out beside him.

  Chanelle sat on the ground next to him, cheering for the children. To our surprise, she’d been dealing pretty well with all the travel. She was more lucid than ever, and hadn’t had much trouble with the Sickness making her act crazy, though her body still showed signs of serious illness and she had a burning hunger that no amount of food would sate.

  I perched beside them in an empty spot atop the rock, watching curiously as drop after drop of ink disappeared into his skin. “What are you doing?” This wasn’t a tattoo. Instead, it looked like he was actually absorbing the ink.

  “I’m experimenting,” he said simply. “I think weaving the lattice through my muscles and onto my bones might be more efficient than trying to control something woven over my skin. I didn’t realize at first that I could actually do this, but I was watching you work with Chaos, and I realized maybe I’d been limiting myself because of a lack of imagination.”

  “It’s really amazing,” Chanelle murmured. “I wish I still had a Skill and could do useful things like that.”

  I was about to ask for more detail, but in front of us, Jacky kicked the daggers out of Gregor’s hands just as he brought them back to corporeality. “Too slow!” she yelled at him, even as she dodged Pinocchio’s stab from behind and flipped Kris over her shoulder in a full-body throw.

  Gregor hopped back from her, his little Shadow body panting obviously, even though no sound came from him and he technically didn’t have much of a physical form while the Skill was active.

  Kris hit the ground and tried to regain her feet, mouth gaping and eyes bulging as she struggled to draw air back into her lungs.

  Pinocchio attacked viciously with all six of its appendages, using the second pair of modular knife-arms Kris had screwed into its sides to the best of its ability.

  Jacky’s foot wove in between its attacks like a blur and tossed the wooden body away.

  Gregor switched back into a flesh and blood boy for half a second, shouting “Animus!” Two large ink crows burst from the skin on the backs of his hands, one flapping up and then diving right towards Jacky’s face, while the other swooped away and grabbed Pinocchio, carrying him right back to Jacky.

  Kris kept her distance, but grabbed a few rocks from the ground and threw them at Jacky as a distraction.

  Jacky caught them in mid-air with a wicked grin.

  Chanelle let out a low groan of disappointment.

  The kids and Pinocchio all froze in horror, since by now they’d learned what that grin from her meant. Only the ink birds were stupid enough to close in on her, and were disintegrated by two of those rocks in exchange.

  Pinocchio raised both sets of arms in surrender, and with a frustrated glare at it, Kris followed suit.

  Gregor stayed stubbornly in his Shadow form, but his whole body cringed when Jacky turned fully toward him.

  “You wanna keep going?” she said, still grinning. “Without backup, is that the smartest idea?”

  Gregor’s fists clenched for a moment, but eventually he released his Skill and raised his hands in the air. His bushy little eyebrows drew down in a ferocious scowl.

  Jacky grinned at him and walked over to ruffle his hair, laughing when he batted her hand away and smoothed it back down. She’d discovered that, while Gregor’s Skill made him extremely hard to hurt, it wasn’t invincible. If his Shadow form was disrupted enough, especially within a short period of time, his Skill would run out of power and the attacks would start to injure him, leaving deep tissue bruises or tears that were difficult to fix without Sam’s help. If the Shadow form was disrupted beyond that, his Skill would give out, leaving him completely vulnerable.

  Gregor rounded on Adam. “Why were the birds so weak and stupid?” he yelled.

  Adam rolled his eyes. “They’re birds. You’re the one who asked for something that could fly.”

  Gregor stomped over, holding out his hands. His knuckles were a little red and swollen, like those of an old man with arthritis. “I need replacements. Make these ones eagles or something. A real predator. Why not give me a couple wolves while you’re at it, too?”

  I caught movement behind Adam out of the corner of my eye and suppressed a smile when Chanelle quickly pressed her finger over her lips to signal me to silence. I cleared my throat loudly, drawing Adam’s attention. “Gregor, I wonder if you can take an ink construct with you into your Shadow form? If so, maybe Adam could make you some longer-distance weapons, like a spear or something. That way you wouldn’t have to make yourself so vulnerable getting in close fo
r an attack.”

  Kris, red-faced and also frustrated, shuffled over to me. “I was too slow to activate my shield when Jacky threw the rock at me,” she admitted, looking at me as if confessing a horrible sin.

  “You’ll get better with practice,” I said, smiling. “Besides, you’re at a disadvantage because you can’t use your Skill to its full ability here. Pinocchio’s great, but he’s only one more body, and Jacky’s fighting experience and Attribute levels both make her a really difficult opponent.”

  Gregor, noticing the same thing behind Adam that I had, covered his mouth with his hand to suppress a smile, then settled his face back into its frown. “Who’s better in a fight, Adam? You or Jacky?”

  Before Adam could answer, Birch, who had been sneaking around behind Adam, pounced forward and batted Adam in the side of the head with a paw, his claws retracted so that it wouldn’t do any real damage.

  Adam’s head whipped around, his eyes and mouth both wide open. He turned back to me and the kids accusingly. “You knew! You distracted me for him!”

  I grinned nonchalantly and buffed my claws on my armored chest plate, while Birch let out a triumphant chortle and Chanelle and the kids burst out in giggles.

  The deadly, endless trek continued on. We traded one barren landscape for another, and then another, and another. We grew leaner. Though none of us had been overweight before, now our muscles grew tight and defined under our skin. We all leveled up our Resilience and Stamina, and my Perception continued to strengthen. Our food supplies dwindled, and I knew that we could not make it back to the salt-water portal on what remained. I only hoped that we could reach the god in time, and that he would be able and willing to provide for us.

  While we were crossing a rolling desert filled with dunes of sand that reminded me of a gigantic ocean, the winds died down till sands settled into eerie stillness. In the distance, dark, low-hanging clouds lifted up the sand and flung it toward us like a wall of death.