Transcending Limitations

by Brian Wilkerson

  “ARF!”

  Perrault jumped at Gruffle’s wrist as he swung and dragged his hand down. The scythe fell short of her mistress and instead hit the living plastic in the drawbridge. The weapon’s necrotic energy promptly killed it.

  Gruffle grumped. With a sour look on his decayed face, he retreated through the Door of Death. Once it closed, Priestess again sighed with relief.

  “How did you know we needed help?” Kallen asked.

  “The obituary—I mean! It was Tasio. Yes, he told me to help you.”

  “Instead of coming himself?” Eric asked. He stepped forward.

  Priestess stepped back and stood sideways. “The Trickster works in mysterious ways.”

  “Come off it, Annala.” Eric stepped forward again. “What’s this game you’re playing?”

  “If I were this ‘Annala’ you speak of,” Priestess continued, stepping away from him, “then by now, I would have talked your ear off with academic trivia about the twelve species of cheese on this bridge and how three of them technically aren’t ‘cheese’ because...but I haven’t! So I can’t be her, obviously.”

  “She’s right, Eric,” Kallen said. “This must be a different elven priestess with a golden-brown wolf familiar who just happens to have a similar face. For all we know, she truly is Tasio playing a prank on us.”

  “I suppose that makes more sense...” Eric conceded.

  “Of course it does,” Priestess agreed. Her arm extended to grab Eric’s ear and pulled him next to her as it shrank. Reaching into thin air with the other hand, she retrieved an earring. She stuck it into Eric’s ear lobe and fastened it despite his protests. Then she did the same to his other ear. Both of them were bleeding freely, but Eric was more annoyed than hurt.

  “This is a modification of the ambush alarm earrings that Tiza wears,” Priestess explained. “They were difficult to create, so DON’T LOSE THEM. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have pants to pull down and whoopee cushions to place.”

  She jumped off the bridge and the wolf followed her. Eric looked over the edge, but she wasn’t in the water, nor was she hiding under the bridge. She was just gone.

  “Annala has been time traveling,” Kallen remarked.

  “Even without mentioning an obituary, it’s obvious,” Eric agreed. “Wait... That means I would have died right here, right now, if she hadn’t intervened...” The thought was both disturbing and comforting. “I’m the luckiest guy alive.”

  Kallen snorted. “That’s your takeaway from this?”

  Before they reached the Dragon’s Lair, Gruffle attacked four more times. He came from behind, below, above, and even tried to trick Eric into stepping through the Door of Death. Each time, Priestess’ gift provided him ample warning. Then, with his chaos spear, he countered.

  “GAAAAHHHHH!”

  A fifth time, Gruffle limped back through his personal portal. Five holes in his form bled otherworldly essence into the air.

  “Filthy mortal...” he muttered. “You’ll have to sleep eventually and then I’ll...”

  Eric pushed him the rest of the way in with a chaos-tainted mana bolt. His yelp echoed in the world even after the door closed.

  “Why can’t I kill him again?”

  “For the third time, it’s because he is a Wish Reaper,” Kallen replied. “He is a walking symbol of Lord Death’s greatest mercy; accomplishing one’s greatest desire that went unfulfilled in one’s mortal life. If you prevent this wish from coming true, then Lord Death will put you on his shit list and you will spend the rest of your life dodging near death experiences until old age finally delivers you into his hands.”

  She waved to passing warriors as they turned a corner.

  “Death always wins eventually; is that it?” Eric asked.

  “More or less,” Kallen agreed. “The only reason I’m not in his bad books for disintegrating that one reaper in Ceiha...” She snapped her fingers. “What’s his name?”

  “Reno Grade,” Eric said. He raised a barrier to guard himself against a stray mana bolt. It came from a friendly brawl in a side street. “The death priest’s name is Neuro.”

  “Yes, them. Neuro testified that Reno Grade was a vile reaper and a fugitive. So I was actually, unknowingly, helping him.”

  “Fine,” Eric said as he pushed open the guild’s door.

  DING!

  “Welcome to...Eric, where have you been?” Mia asked. “You’ve been gone for weeks!”

  Eric bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Mia.”

  The receptionist stood up from her desk and put her hands on her hips.

  “Aaloon has been demanding your termination! The only reason The Dragoness hasn’t followed his recommendation is because she’s waiting to consult with Basilard.”

  “Told you,” Eric said aside to Kallen.

  Mia pointed at him. “Pay attention! What do you have to say for yourself?”

  Eric generated two circles of darkness and waved them over his eyes.

  “I’m on a mission from god.”

  Mia arched an eyebrow. “You’re doing The Trickster’s dirty work now?”

  “Sort of,” Kallen said. “Tasio. Tasio. Tasio.”

  The god himself popped into existence at her side. Then he squeezed her into a hug.

  “Kallen! How wonderful of you to call. How’s my favorite follower?”

  She hugged him back before replying, “The good news is we have the Sacred Fire. The bad news is that Eric is out of PTO and wants his mortal boss to okay his tardiness. Would you mind bringing him here right away?”

  “Not at all. Anything for you.” He snapped his fingers and then disappeared.

  “Just like that?” Eric asked.

  “I’m his favorite follower, remember? Besides, there will likely be a prank waiting for me in my airship.”

  Suddenly, Tasio reappeared with his hands on two passengers. They were astronauts and one was riding on the other’s shoulders.

  “Why are you wearing space suits?” Eric asked.

  The smaller one lifted her visor. “Space suits are cool!” Zettai said.

  Basilard raised his visor. “We were traveling in the Jath moon park when Tasio grabbed us. These are rentals.”

  “I take it you had a fun vacation?” Mia asked.

  Zettai jumped down from Basilard’s shoulders so she could latch herself around his waist instead. “Best vacation ever!”

  In response, Basilard did something that his niece had never ever seen him do. He smiled, lifted Zettai into the air, and spun her around. It was so flippant that only The Trickster’s presence convinced her that he was not impersonating her uncle.

  “We hunted shimmers in the Temple-Noble Partnership,” Basilard said. “We visited Vulcan Mountain and joined the weekly water gun fight. In Sigma country, we sang with the giant metal cranes in their Unbroken Circle.”

  “Then we went to Atmos and joined a car race against rats,” Zettai continued. “I’ve never seen vermin wear armor before.”

  “Sonar HA!” The two of them stomped the floor and laughed.

  Neither Mia nor the Team Four novices understood the joke.

  “How have you been doing mission-wise without your Daylra?” Basilard asked. He was carrying Zettai. “I hope you haven’t been slacking off.”

  “You see... about that...I just got back into town.”

  Basilard scowled. “Mia, call Tiza and Nolien. I want them to see this.”

  “It’s not that—”

  “I’ll listen after they arrive.”

  Mia pushed her chair backwards to reach the call buttons.

  “Eric, I warned you about avoiding missions. You have to let the guild know in advance. Our business model is centered around being available for our customers whenever they need us. If we are shorthanded or don’t have the talent necessary at the time they come in, then we lose them to someone else. If nothing else—”

  Tiza and Nolien entered the lobby. They were standing close together, both of them were sweat
y, and their clothes were rumpled and wrinkled. Kallen raised an eyebrow. Tiza shook her head and Nolien rolled his eyes.

  “Now, Eric, where have you been?” Basilard asked.

  “I’ve been helping you and Poi with your term paper,” Eric said. “The one you said you were running out of time on and that I was essential for.”

  Basilard shook his head. “I can’t believe you remember that conversation. I knew you were eavesdropping, but to bring it up now...” In all seriousness, he asked, “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “Yes.”

  Basilard walked directly up to him. “It’s going to be difficult and dangerous.” He placed Zettai on her feet and put both hands on Eric’s shoulders. “You still might be able to back out and choose a different path.”

  “Honestly,” Eric began, “I’d like to stay a humble mercenary. This past year has been the best of my life, but it’s not going to continue. One way or another, it’s going to change. I can either roll with the change and wring some benefit from it or stick my head in the sand and watch everything go to Pox. Besides,” he cracked a grin, “I’m being paid more gold for this mission than all the others put together.”

  “Really?!” Tiza asked. “Exactly how much gold are we talking here?”

  Eric forced his will into his hairs. Golden-brown color washed through them like ripples in a pond. He picked up a clump on his crown and said, “This much.”

  Tiza slouched and scowled. “You and Bloody Daylra need to tell me what’s going on.”

  “Indeed, why is...”

  A clank of wood on stone finished Nolien’s sentence; the realization made him drop his staff. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open. Seeing that shocked look on his face as the revelation came over him, Eric discovered the joy of leading someone to the answer.

  “Impossible. No way. Trickster’s Choice is not...that’s a...no way.”

  Eric trickster grinned. “What’s so impossible about a term paper, my noble friend?”

  Nolien’s surprise shifted into solemnity. “Eric, please tell me honestly and in a straightforward manner: Are you planning to become the Avatar of Lady Chaos?”

  “Yup. I’ll be immortal and omnipotent and doing the will of Lady Chaos until Noitearc is swallowed by the Primordial Sea and beyond. However, it will take a while to get there and so I need some time off from work.”

  “No need,” Basilard said. “You’re going to Mt. Fiol, right? It just so happens that our next mission is to escort a pilgrim there.”

  “Is it her?” Eric jerked his thumb at Kallen.

  She snorted. “Like I can afford that. It’s Paric Gold.”

  “The journalist?” Nolien asked.

  “The Chaosist,” Kallen replied.

  Sure enough, there was a mission bill from Paric Gold waiting in Mia’s hands.

  “He issued the request just the other day,” she said. “He’s very excited to meet you.”

  Eric leaned forward on Mia’s desk. “Were you in on this too?”

  Mia leaned back and blinked several times in confusion. It was adorable. “In on what?”

  “It’s okay, Mia,” Basilard said. “You can tell him.”

  “Oh, okay then, yes, I was.” She bowed her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you because Uncle Basi said it was need-to-know.” She tilted her head up and did puppy dog eyes. “Forgive me?”

  “Of course.” It was automatic. He meant it, but there was still no resistance against an apologetic Mia. “Is there anyone else?”

  Zettai raised her hand. “I knew! Dad told me during the elemental stone collection.”

  “You told her as qui...Wait.” Eric looked from the elder bladi to the younger. “She just called you ‘Dad.’”

  Basilard smiled and Zettai giggled. “Yes, she did.”

  “You’re okay with that?”

  “Of course I am,” Basilard said. “She’s my daughter. I just needed time to recognize it.”

  Paric Gold was waiting for them outside the city’s airship dome. He was a dwarf, and thus a head shorter than Tiza. Also, as is typical with dwarves, his beard covered his neck and the top of his chest. Both it and the rest of his hair was green. He wore a tweed suit and around his neck was a paidrin. There was also a holster on his waist carrying canisters that Eric recalled carried collapsible spears. Four straps secured his backpack. Upon sighting Team Four, he walked straight up to Eric and said, “Hello, Eric Watley. It’s an honor to finally meet you.”

  He extended one big and meaty hand forward. Eric made sure to transform his own into its true metal nature before accepting Paric’s greeting. True to his expectations, Paric squeezed tightly in traditional dwarf custom. Even with its metal casing, his hand still stung.

  “Likewise, Mr. Gold.”

  Then Paric turned his attentions to Kallen. “Miss Selios, it’s always a pleasure. I passed along your paper on the Elemental Mana Factor Hypothesis to the usual channels.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Gold. I do what I can to advance the Chaotic Cause.”

  They each performed Arin’s Triangle and then exchanged the hand squeeze with the same hand. They did both without an ounce of expression. Then Paric repeated the gesture with Basilard and exchanged information about their own preparations for the Chaos Avatar Ritual. One thing that caught Eric’s attention was talk of a “Chaos Scroll.” If I’m right, I’m not sure whether to be relieved or scared...Regardless, it can wait until I’m immortal again.

  Next, Paric appraised Zettai, who stood proudly next to her father. Her traveling outfit was a smaller and feminine version of his own and she carried a dagger and short sword made in the style of BloodDrinker at her waist and back. At this, the dwarf finally cracked a tiny smile.

  “I see you’ve finally propagated.” Despite the smile, his voice remained flat. “Is it true that you performed Bladi Conversion for her?”

  “Technically, I completed it. It’s a long story that I will tell you during the flight. “

  “Then have you returned to the New Blood faction?”

  Basilard nodded. “To do otherwise would be hypocrisy. I have no shame in what I’ve done.” He placed a hand on Zettai’s head. “Only pride.”

  “As you should. She is like a ruby fresh from the mine. With time and polish, she will dazzle all who see her.” Finally, he laid eyes upon Tiza and Nolien. “Why are they coming?”

  Tiza scoffed, “We’re part of this team, duh!”

  She got up in Paric’s face, grabbed his hand, and squeezed as hard as she could. He returned the favor, and, being a dwarf, his squeeze was tighter and his pain threshold higher. He bruised Tiza’s entire right hand at once, yet she refused to show a hint of pain.

  “Get the rocks out of your ears and listen,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “I’m in charge of protecting Eric. If he goes, I go.”

  Paric looked Tiza in the eyes and said, again without emotion, “You have a strong grip, for a human, and plenty spirited.” Then he looked past Tiza to Nolien. “You have good taste.”

  The noble boy’s face split between embarrassed and astonished. “How in the world could you come to that conclusion so quickly?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Paric asked in reply. “You were holding hands just now.”

  “But I was standing on her left...side.” He face palmed. “Now my right hand is doing it too. Tiza, why didn’t you tell me?”

  She looked away. “I didn’t mind.”

  Albatross IX was waiting for them inside the dome. Emily was already inside and sitting in the captain’s chair. She quickly vacated it for the co-pilot seat when Kallen stepped into the cockpit. By way of excuse, she held up a whoopie cushion that Tasio placed there in her absence.

  Eric tried to join them, but Basilard insisted that he sit in the living room. Tiza and Nolien sat across from him and together. She insisted that it was only because she wanted a pillow for the long flight and Nolien was squishy. Paric Gold sat next to them. With only one seat remaining fo
r two people, Zettai sat on Basilard’s lap.

  Albatross IX received clearance to take off and moved slowly through the hangar. Once it cleared the dome and reached the necessary altitude it picked up speed and soared towards Mt. Fiol. Then Kallen put the ship on cruise control so she could better listen to the strategy session.

  In the cabin, Paric placed an earth brown crystal on the center table. He said the word of activation and its screen projected a 3-D display. At the moment, it was a default logo of the company who produced his computer.

  “Mr. Watley, while we travel, I would like to discuss the future with you. Our topics shall be the Chaos Avatar, its role, and our motivations for making you into it. Is this agreeable?”

  “Sure. Yeah, definitely...” Eric trailed off as something occurred to him. “Is this going to be a frank discussion or cryptic-ness? It took a while for Tasio to say anything straight.”

  Tasio popped in next to him. “You would have run away screaming if I was straight from day one.”

  He popped out before Eric could swat him. Then back in just long enough to say, “You’re no stranger to it yourself.”

  Paric cleared his throat. “I assure you, Mr. Watley, this discussion shall be nothing but plain and simple communication. Not all Chaosists worship Lady Chaos the Mischief Maker.”

  “Then who do you worship?” Eric asked.

  “The Muse, with its sister-cults in the Innovator and Investigator. I want to continue doing so unmolested for the rest of my life, at which time, I wish for my soul to return to the Abyss of its own accord and not at the permission of a tyrannical deity. That is why I am here.”

  The holographic display cycled through images of his career: traveling, writing, experimenting with new methods and technology. In all of them, he wore the same look of stoic apathy that he did in person.

  “I don’t care about this pilgrimage. I want to make you the Chaos Avatar so that you can check the power of Latrot and its Order Avatar, which will keep my life the same as it is now.”

  “A Chaosist who doesn’t like change?” Eric asked.

  “Book of Idioms Volume 10 Number 70: The greatest of changes is the lack of change, for only a force as mighty as change can resist it,” Paric replied. “Order acknowledges the irony in calling himself the Preserver of Stability despite stirring up trouble in worlds belonging to his mother by calling his campaign ‘The Final Change.’”