Chapter 4: The Scientist

Subject: Inis Location: Moss Crescent

“The specimen remains restrained by twelve Pinpoint Tethers. I have cast the spell twice upon each of the blightbeast’s six legs, binding each to the stone the mosses of this region favor.”

Inis scratched and stomped at the stone beneath her with a boot, making sure the restraint spell would hold. She was satisfied when she was unable to damage the land her magic was linked to.

Actually, she was rather proud of herself for wielding the spell with such accuracy, even if it was the simplest in the “Point Tether” grouping.

“I am still outside Advantide city, in the Sprawlcap Hills. We are currently on the outskirts of the Moss Crescent festerfont, currently classified by the local Blightbane Guild headquarters as a Rippling Clarion. The specimen managed to chase me all the way here from the core before I was able to capture it.”

She focused her breathing to keep her voice even, barely able to speak the labels used by the Guild to categorize festerfonts without fuming. It was irresponsible to take the reductionist approach.

“It is just as well. The presence of such a creature is proof that this Guild is lax with its observation of the outlying festerfonts. Encountering the product of malevolent evolution is dangerous to seekers, but it is a valuable find for me.”

Inis readjusted her headset so that it didn’t slide off while she was documenting her observations. Internally, she felt contempt for the term “malevolent evolution”. Evil was not a concept these creatures could entertain, and researchers shouldn’t be forced to either. Blightbeasts were not alive.

Inis sunk into the past for a moment, recalling something her mother had once said. She buried that moment in time just as quickly as it had surfaced.

As much as she didn’t want to entertain the notion, these creatures might just be the “purest” entities on the planet.

Reality isn’t always easy to accept.

“Rippling Clarion” was a two-part class title. The first word referred to the “saturation” of the festerfont. The second word was the base class of the festerfont.

Saturation was just a fancy word to describe how energetic it was estimated to have become since the last Guild evaluation. The Blightbane claimed to closely watch the festerfonts near a given Guild headquarters. “Rippling” was the second of three labels. “Placid” was the least energetic label, while “Violent” was the most energetic.

Only a catastrophe of land-shaping proportions would alter a festerfont’s base class because it referred to how treacherous the land was to navigate. It was also assigned based upon the types of blightbeasts that would guard the land. “Clarion” was the least dangerous base class of festerfont. Next came “Nihil”, while the most dangerous label was “Umbra”.

Inis believed there was another factor involved in base class naming, but she hadn’t discovered what it was yet. The system was exceedingly inelegant.

After performing brief upkeep on her spell to keep it active, she flipped through her notes summarized for this festerfont and held up an artist’s sketch of the blightbeast variant she believed she had caught. All the while, the thing snarled and struggled.

“What I have captured is a Talusfang, one of the more uncommon predators of the Sprawlcap Hills festerfonts. Six legs, the middle pair longer and spaced further from the long body. That is the second most notable feature of a Talusfang, most notable being the fangs. I’ve confirmed that this specimen has the typical set of two on the upper and lower jaws, for a total of four.”

Accidentally reacting to the boredom she felt, Inis examined the creature’s long black fangs more closely and felt a slight chill. She didn’t know if it was fear or scientific curiosity. Regardless of the primary drive, she stepped back again and forced herself to finish her recording.

She began listing off every observation she could make about the creature’s external appearance, from the mossy brown patterning of its fur to the sharp black barbs on its tail. Peering closer, Inis discovered something new buried within its gaping maw.

While the blightbeast gnashes at the air, Inis was just out of its reach. She documented a strange secretion produced by an interior layer of teeth. These extra rows did not exist on the blightbeast template she was familiar with. This template was summarized in the notes before her, confirming the discrepancy.

The secretion was not saliva, nor a visibly corrosive substance. She ascertained that much when the stone at her feet didn’t react upon contact. She looked closely at the puddle of orange goo, intrigued.

“What is your purpose...” Inis wondered aloud.

The scientist quickly scrambled to document her findings.

“The creature’s transformation has produced a second row of teeth. To date, this has gone undocumented by the Blightbane Guilds I’ve collected records from. These teeth must be connected to newly-formed glands, which are producing a strange secretion that has formed a gooey orange puddle at my feet. It doesn’t appear to be corrosive, but I cannot be sure of anything without retrieving a sample for study.”

In moments like these, Inis felt torn. Understanding the composition of the liquid would further her research. Encountering a creature like this was rare, but blightbeasts all shared a problematic trait.

“Bringing a sample back for analysis is impossible and moving my equipment here is ill-advised at this time.”

When a blightbeast was brought beyond the borders of the festerfont it spawned in, it died. When a blightbeast died, all matter produced by it would inexplicably dematerialize. Blood, skin, claws, it would all vanish with only impressions made on non-blightbeast material remaining. Only blightseeds could be harvested from a dead blightbeast. It was part of the enigma that was the Blight.

Why only the seeds? It seems to defy reason.

Inis could return with her equipment, but then she would need to recapture the dangerous creature. She was willing to do such a thing, as she had taken far greater risks to increase her understanding of the Blight in the past. She wasn’t going to do it. This was because she was conscientious of the danger the creature posed to others.

A seeker could stumble across the released creature. Seeker Initiates weren’t the only ones who could die if they encountered it. Even more experienced ranks of seekers would be lucky to escape with their lives.

Initiates frequent the outskirts layer of Clarion like this. Mother was much stronger than that when she died…

Subject: Inis Location: Moss Crescent

A gentle hum in Inis’s ear informed her that her headset had exhausted its supply of “memgel”.

It is just as well… I was losing focus anyway. Just one more refill should be more than enough to finish things here.

The prepared field scientist fumbled through her satchel for fresh memgel canisters. She needed three full containers of the glimmering blue substance, upon which her musings and other such experiences could be stored and thus preserved for later analysis.

Amid the jumble of used canisters, Inis found what she needed and dropped them into her left pants pocket. She gently took off her headset and ejected the used canisters into her satchel. She labeled each one in black marker, jotting down the date and inscription spell used.

Industry-standard recording technology usually required a single canister. Inis’s headset was custom-made for three simultaneous recordings. Each recording used a different spell. These were “Vocal Web”, “Suspended Ambiance”, and “Echo”.

Vocal Web actually had a number of variants, but Inis used the most common and least expensive one. This variant was attuned to the voice of humans, Inis’s species, but there were separate spell tweaks for each of the three sentient species residing in Shroud. Inis suspected a fourth variant was attuned for the species constantly attempting to breach the barricade, but only the military would have a use for such a spell.

Suspended Ambiance was captured environmental noise. It was less popular, meaning it was also more expensive.

Echo was an all-purpose spell for audio inscription into memgel canisters. It was easy to find in stores selling recording equipment. That said, there were only so many of these stores in any given city.

Inis couldn’t cast the enchantment spells on her equipment herself, so she racked up expenses while funding her obsession. She would study the Blight even if she had to starve.

No. If I starved, that would mean I’d failed. I need to concentrate. I need… Preparation. Diligence. Patience.

Inis began to speak the calming words.

“When you are prepared, you are lucky. Take extra time or recklessness will take time from you.”

The canisters were all labeled. Next, she would begin slotting them along the back strip of the headset.

“Diligence is your fuel. Wake up and make progress toward your goals each day. Then, sleep so you can do it again. Don’t sacrifice tomorrow for today.”

The first two canisters were inserted and locked. Glowing white rings on the canisters and on the headset confirmed they were synced up.

“Patience is an awareness of boredom’s pendulum. Accept the frustration of necessary monotony. If it helps, remember that it is temporary.”

This “focus recitation” was something Inis had written a long time ago. The busy last couple of years felt more like decades, but the calendar date disagreed. She recited the words so many times that she no longer needed to worry that she might misspeak them.

Wrong. The words she and her mentor wrote warned about inherent fallibility. It reminded her to stay cautious because everyone fails sometimes.

All that time ago, Inis had asked her mentor why she was being told to do this exercise. The explanation she received was that it was a step to becoming a better scientist. Inis accepted this lie because it was more convenient than the truth. She didn’t want to hear that repeating the words were intended to keep her calm, that they wouldn’t help turn her into a paragon of rationality. She didn’t want to hear that aspects of her core, impulsive personality couldn’t be stamped out with a wish.

Inis the student, still grieving the death of her parents, wanted to feel like she was already well on her way down a path that would make her a better person. Even knowing the lie, she struggled to write the words.

Again, Inis imposed upon her mentor when she had difficulty knowing what words to pick. She asked why it wasn’t better to recite words that are calculated to have the desired effect. A teacher would know those words better than a student.

Her mentor responded by explaining that teachers are fallible too. They do not necessarily know more than their students. Words to catalyze growth weren’t uniformly effective. Some students might respond better to specific words. Her mentor comforted her by saying that she would help Inis when she was done to edit the recitation. It wasn’t necessary to get it right on the first try. Fear of failure was also a fear of success.

Inis’s mentor had been lying again. She knew that Inis hated herself. She was telling Inis that it is normal to feel that way and that she didn’t have to go through it alone.

The last canister locked into place with a satisfying *click*. Inis bent down to put the headset back on. Just when it was securely on her head, an ear-splitting *crack* announced the liberation of the blightbeast subject from one of its restraints. Hastily, she checked for a miscalculation in the upkeep of the spell but found none.

That meant one thing. Two Pinpoint Tethers for each leg had not been enough. Was this a failure of diligence or a lack of adequate preparation? There was no time to deliberate when the specimen was breaking free.