Cale took his boots from the table, and pulled his chair closer so he could fold his hands together. “It’s too minor of an issue. I have a bigger problem that I can only talk to a handful of people about. Out of curiosity, what rank do you think I am?”
The Administrator softly rubbed the top of his head while thinking it over. “Oh, I’d wager… somewhere in the middling A-eight ranks? It’s very difficult to discern the details with you, without your actual Core to look at. Even I can barely tell at all. I’d lob my ball at ‘high tier’ and see if it goes through the net.”
Cale rubbed one of his thumbs around the other, and didn’t seem pleased to be speaking about the topic. Like it was bad news. “As of… a few moments ago? A-rank nine, Zenith.”
Artorian pushed up from his chair and hooted, fists punching to the air with an elated expression. He performed a swift side to side shimmy while miniature fireworks bounced and exploded off from his aura. “You’re at the zeeeenith, you’re at the zeeeenith! Cal, this is fantastic!”
His wide smile slowly turned drab, and his butt found a seat on the chair. “So… why are you anything but happy?”
Cale’s digits pressed into his temples, his head dipping low. So low that his forehead just about touched the table. When Cale sat back up, he seemed lost. “I watched the same memories you did. I lived through Dawn and Tatum’s experiences of the event. Even with that, I’m not ready, because of what the side effects might be.”
Artorian thought about it, and certain puzzle pieces fit into place in locations he really didn’t want them to be. “I… Ah. I can see a particularly nasty event. Since the soul version inverts, all ‘stuff’ in your Soul Space will likely be turned inside out as well, and that doesn’t bode well for everyone living inside of you. I have no idea if that’s an event we can survive. At all.”
Cale nodded at one of the possible major issues, and a very deflated Artorian squeezed both his hands over his mouth and chin. Sliding down in his chair until he was at full slump. “Oh, abyss…”
Cale held the side of his head as he leaned. “That’s one. There’s a few more, nastier events that might occur. As an example, the oath I made to let everyone back out when it was safe might smite me if I can’t uphold my part of the deal. Did Dawn ever tell you about the timer she was on, when she was going through her Incarnation?”
Artorian nodded. That had been a very hefty conversation during what had otherwise been a very pleasant coconut-sipping day. “She did. I’m her go-to when she’s got bothersome things on her mind. What else is eating you, my friend? There appears to be more.”
The dungeon just talked, rather than really think on how it wanted to phrase things. The topic was difficult enough just to talk about at all. “I won’t have one. A timer, I mean. There’s no existing S-rankers for Acme, and as soon as I reach the requisite Essence density. Pop. Since outside in the real world, my ley lines are still chugging on and sending me all the world’s Essence, it’s not an event I can stop or slow down.”
He wavered. “I have started looking into measures for how to slow it down. Once the chains are off. Otherwise, people who I let out will just die from Essence deprivation out in the real. Because I really am taking everything.”
The old man squeezed both sides of his chin. “How are you on the self-identity front? Dawn really struggled, but made it with help. I’m confident you have all those memories, even if the whole ‘Liminal Energy’ concept is a tough nut. I didn’t know about that until recently.”
Cale just shrugged that off. “The thoughts-turned-reality? You’ve all been handling the broken items and creatures. Those were my Liminal problems, and it was specifically important that I could not affect, notice, or solve them myself. I apologize about the throw pillow. I really didn’t know it was down in the insect nest, nor that it was that one. I never found it in your recovered bag of holding goods, and chose never to mention it unless it specifically came up. My good news on that front is that I have enough of the Liminal recouped and held safely in my center to perform my overhaul, that’s not a bottleneck.”
Artorian felt a little jealous, and it showed in his expression. He didn’t chide the dungeon for his good fortune. Each Liminal issue seemed to have oddities and peculiarities required for resolution. “How long do you have?”
Cale frowned, a touch pensive. “Before the sun? I thought I had somewhere between centuries to millennia. After the sun? Weeks to months. Maybe less. Maybe I’m wrong entirely and it’s exactly one hundred and two years, three months, and four days. I am currently in the process of canting all Beasts and animals into relevant memory stones. So expect them to vanish seemingly overnight, now that we have a night. I’m glad Deverash went overboard with his memory Core creation endeavor. Turns out I am in desperate need of them.”
Pulling his chair out, Artorian stood up and paced around the living room for a short while. He didn’t know what to say just yet. “So, in effect, you have no idea. It will happen randomly, and there will be no warning.”
Cale buried his face into his hands, mumbling between his fingers. “In essence, yes.”
The old man held the middle of his beard as he faced the fireplace. “Does anyone else know?”
The reply was about as half-hearted as he’d expected it. “No. Not yet. I need to pull in Dawn and Tatum later to talk over what might make it easier, but honestly, I already have all their memories and can imagine the responses they might have. I wanted to try and broach it to you first for the exact same reasons Dawn does. You’re a good go-to, Artorian. You don’t judge, you don’t have massive negative or judgmental reactions. Usually, you also pull magical answers out of nowhere. Those I can’t get out of memory Cores. So… do you have anything?”
Artorian pressed his forehead to the stone above the fireplace. He sighed, closed his eyes, and spoke his mind. “Yes… but you’re not going to like it.”
Chapter Five
Halcyon rushed to the administrator’s residence upon being called, shortly after a flash of light struck the walking path in front of the Jotunheim pagoda. Her orca form glimmered and broke sound barriers as she flew, descending in a full nosedive from the clouds above. Her Dreamer was waiting for her on the steps below, inspecting a set of statues out in the front courtyard that detailed his several spectacular failures and most embarrassing moments from his Administrator’s tenure here so far. “Did the Demon’s Maw incident really need such a big one?”
Artorian smiled tiredly at her when she landed, humanizing fully in the span of a few seconds. She hustled over as Zelia’s bright clothing flowed around her tall dark form, naturally unfurling during the change. “You summoned, Dreamer?”
Artorian was momentarily elsewhere, but he beamed at her when his attention reoccupied the moment. His voice was one of exhaustion. “Cy! Apologies for the short notice. I wanted to know if you’d be interested in spending some time with me while I do the next set of realm checks. I wanted someone along and felt we haven’t been having enough time together. I also believe I can’t currently do it alone, and well… you’re so terribly good at taking care of me. Would you please?”
Halcyon *eeeeed* in delight with excited tip-toe bounces. “I would love to! Can we get something to eat on the way? I would like to try the regional seafood.”
Her Dreamer snorted, amused and delighted. He felt some energy restore itself to his spirit right away. He’d asked the right soul for company. “A grand thought! Let us go explore the culinary spectacle of the many realms. We should perhaps do the difficult ones first then, as Tatum’s place doesn’t exactly offer… edible goods. Build up an appetite as we go places that actually have menu items. Saving Midgard for last has an added bonus. Oh, if you’d been around when Madame Chandra ran the Pleasure House.”
He kissed his fingers and closed his eyes at the decadent memories, then sent them out to the winds. “Delicious.”
Halcyon upgraded to tiny jumps, overjoyed at the surprise field trip. “What mu
st I pack? Am I dressed well? Do I need an extra bag?”
Her sudden childlike tenderness had Artorian enjoy a warm, grandfatherly moment. His hand waved gently, indicating that wasn’t necessary. “You look fine, as always. My only current worry is the realm pressure. Even I had significant difficulties with the upper A’s, and I only managed Asgard through some hefty Mana use. Let me ask Tatum to see if anything can be done about that since we’re starting on the soot-ball. One moment, dear. Pack whatever you’d like.”
Cy jumped with joy! “Okay!”
She twisted into her black and metallic gold orca form, seamlessly swimming through the air toward her pagoda level to gather a few things. Artorian smiled, ever so proud as he watched her go. He stepped into the Senate, and knocked on the forum door for a conversation.
Occultatum opened the door to his forum space, and Artorian eased in for a private chat. In the corner of his vision, he noticed a previously pleased Zelia hiding in the open windowsill form a minor scowl. She was doing secretarial work from her hammock, now unable to sneakily hijack conversation connections once her Dreamer went to a forum. Stay in the senate where you can be spied on, old man!
Artorian would of course do no such thing. Tatum’s mote popped in from the void.
The wait for an answer unsettled Tatum. That usually spelled bad news. When the Administrator did get to speaking about recent events, the Incarnate didn’t like what he heard.
Tatum replied with frowned weight.
Halcyon was back and ready while her Dreamer was still concentrating, his eyes kept closed as his cloud-patterned spidersilk robes moved with the breeze. Zelia had changed him while her Dreamer had been distracted. As if she would abide him wearing anything that wasn’t her latest and greatest clothing line. A folded, matching bundle was waiting for Halcyon as well, and she donned them with glee like the exciting presents they were. She matched!
Artorian came back to his body slowly after the lengthy forum conversation. Tatum had spoken of the task with ease, but seeing to it was a different matter. Artorian could not fold them to the location too early, as he needed to wait for the area to be safe. Accidental squishing was a terrible way to go, and that’s not what he wanted for his adored chosen.
After sitting to meditate a good twenty minutes, Tatum’s voice reached him once more with welcome.
Artorian cut the connection to confirm the message and opened his eyes. That had been a ‘friendly’ nudge in his ribs. He looked up only to brightly smile at Halcyon. “Why, look at you! Oh, we match!”
He let himself enjoy a good laugh and dancing flourish with Halcyon, as she tried to copy his dance steps. Just a little fun between the two of them. When he stopped, he pressed his hands to his new robes and looked up at her. “Cy, we’re all set. Hand?”
Halcyon nodded and took his hand like she was being led into the next stage of the performance, allowing her Dreamer to fold space around them. Zelia watched them fade into the slipstream as they went. Tracking them as they teleported from the pagoda’s path to a prepared spot on Hel’s surface. She secretly wrote the location down in her personal notes, in the event it was ever useful to know where a safe zone existed on Hel.
On Hel, the Jotunheim duo was trying to process what they saw on arrival. A vast, moving, three-dimensional set of Runes hovered before them. Spells? Probably spells given the arrays were stable while they clicked and moved into one another as a vast and intricate house-sized puzzle. “Tatum, what in Cal am I looking at?”
Dressed in healer’s attire, the man pulled a plague doctor mask off his face. He hooked the mask at his side, and cleaned off his hands in a nearby bucket of water. What kind of array work got one’s hands dirty? “Do I even want to know why your hands are covered in…? No. Never mind. I didn’t ask.”
Tatum just broke into a pleased smirk. “I’m just working on my chosen one. He’s a real honk of a good time. Also, hello. I don’t believe I’ve met you before.”
The Incarnate offered his clean hand to an unsettled Halcyon, who had taken to hiding behind her Dreamer with a tense, sudden movement. She was hungry, but her appetite currently felt stifled. Something about the dark lands where creatures of bone roamed shattered her footing. The lack of water bodies also definitely had something to do with it. That and the terrifying feeling in front of her that she didn’t have the words to describe. Tatum just felt insurmountably massive, and it made her shrink away before him.
Cautiously, she shook Tatum’s wrist. Never once moving an inch out from behind her Dreamer, who stood still purely for her comfort. Like he was her own massive thing she could hide behind. Artorian thought the display was somewhat adorable, though he’d expected her to be confident. This meekness was unexpected, and that worry showed on his easily read wrinkles.
Tatum saw the interplay and filled him in, not exactly surprised at the behavior. This was something normal to see as an Incarnate of his rank, and he’d simply not explained that before. “Your concerns are not as severe as they seem, Administrator. As an entity based on a Beast Core, your chosen one has an innate threat sense. A bestial feeling of the creatures around her, if you will. Just like an animal can easily discern a predator from prey, or a threat from a harmless blade of grass. We are seen… or rather, felt, as incredibly imposing threats.”
He thought of an example, and moved his hand to mold some Mana into small animals which chased one another. “Think of being a rabbit. When surrounded by other rabbits, and one wolf. It is the wolf one is wary of. If, behind that wolf, the mountain suddenly moves and seems to be hungry, that is an entirely different category of inherent fear response.”
He dismissed the Mana animals, and moved his hands behind his back. “We are those mountains, my friend.”
Artorian glanced over his shoulder to Halcyon, who was holding onto his back for dear life. He supposed Tatum was right, and the old man shifted his Auric signature into the starlight configuration to soothe her. It helped well enough. Her grip eased, and her breaths evened out as both men heard Cy’s heartbeat stabilize since they were paying close attention to her wellbeing.
Halcyon centered herself when she was able to think, kept safe in her Dreamer’s pleasant, tingling starfield. She wasn’t alone, and had her own mountain. He beamed warmly when she glanced down. Halcyon took her time reclaiming intelligent sense from her primal and bestial responses, but she succeeded.
Artorian was glad he’d taken her. It was good for Cy to have these experiences to strengthen her self-control. Patting her clamped grip, she gently eased and let go. Artorian spoke with fondness. “I’m very proud of her, she’s making leaps and strides. Did you know she can swim through the air in Jotunheim? It’s a joy to see her fly. So natural, a shooting star all on her own.”
Tatum couldn’t help but make the quip. “In comparison to a certain Long-flag hanging in a tree?”
Artorian cough-grumbled, crossing his arms and looking away. “Yeah… well. It’s. Mmm. I just got roasted.”
Halcyon and Tatum shared a snicker, which helped craft the start of a budding friendship now that the initial tension was fading. Artorian cut in before they could keep poking at his… less than positive test results. “So, what’s this spell-form thing I need to keep in line? How does one even do that?
It sounds as mysterious and confusing as the Dwarves ‘convincing’ stone into shape.”
Tatum nodded, agreeing with the comparison. “That’s exactly what this is. That profession is far more difficult than it seems, and it makes me gain a great grain of respect for them. This array is made of Mana, and the complexity of it is providing borderline sentience to the pattern being created within. Rock doesn’t have sentience, but still those rough-hewn Dwarves manage to turn that rock into a wall. Because they convinced some pebbles that they should be a wall. A rock, Artorian. An abyss-blasted boulder. They can convince a boulder, while I am struggling with something far more malleable.”
Artorian just waited as Tatum walked in circles, his hands waving wildly.
Tatum was venting, and he didn’t want to interrupt the good feeling that came with getting something bothersome off your chest. Artorian supposed he was the resident vent-holder, but that was fine. The Incarnate pointed to the darkened section of the moving puzzle-form, which got his attention. “All you need to do is keep an eye on that chunk, and when it tries to do… anything. It doesn’t matter what. Anything. You just tell it no. I’m all set to visit Cal. Think you can handle this for a while?”
The old man gave a thumbs up. “Tatum, that sounds so easy, Halcyon here could do it in her sleep.”
The giantess flushed pink, and hid her face behind both her hands as she turned, trying to make herself look small. It didn’t work, but gosh was it adorable. “We’ll be fine, Tatum. Go help Cal. We’ll stick around until you get back, even though we likely can’t be of much help.”
The Incarnate gave an appropriate nod, and void stepped out. Leaving the Jotunheim duo alone with Hel in all its dreary splendor. Artorian pressed his hands to his hips, and tried not to let his fatigue get to him. It was just… Abyss, this place was boring. If it wasn’t for the array to keep attention to, there was no real movement here. He could spot bone-creatures in the distance, but they didn’t really move.
Anima: A Divine Dungeon Series (Artorian's Archives Book 6) Page 4