Time Since Reckless Self-Endangerment: 3 Days 5 Hours

Goal: Kill 'Baby Boots'

Nic shot past scrubby desert trees with crooked trunks and over thin outcroppings of stone that gave way to wild, hectic drops back down onto the sand- his sandboard was shaking violently underfoot as he kicked up a huge plume of dust.

His opponent was well-ahead but Nic was gaining.

They raced through arches of stone formed by years of erosion. Past aloe-cactus jungles that towered up in huge domes of interlocking green thorns.

He could see the enemy clearly now by extending his senses with the Eight-Eyed Mantle. It was a huge man, nearly eight-feet tall, with burning cracks of fire running over skin the color of bronze. Its lower body was a pillar of red smoke that melded with the kicked-up sand of the desert.

A djinn.

“I see a wish in my future…” Nic sung to the wind, narrowing his eyes and pushing his cultivation base until his bones ached and his veins were straining to hold the sheer fury of aura pulsing through them.

The djinn turned back and finally noticed him. A grin spread across its face, and it twisted off course to lead him towards a towering series of stone pillars rising out of the sand.

Nic swerved and dodged through the obstacle course, huge sprays of sand kicking up as he wove around the pillars and reached out a hand. The djinn was so close he could almost touch its skin- but at the last second it twisted away and slipped around to the opposite side of a pillar. For a split second Nic lost sight of his prey.

When it emerged from behind the tower it had split into three identical copies. Nic howled in frustration and shot towards the nearest one as the three split up, heading in three separate directions. He took an intercept course, swerving to come alongside the djinn and its whirling vortex of smoke. His hand darted out-

The djinn dissolved into smoke, showering Nic and making him cough. A clone.

As he burst free of the smoke cloud he had to immediately break to one side, barely dodging a stone pillar. Two clones of the djinn remained. One was flying away to the right, while the other was dead ahead.

The one ahead of him turned back and soared backwards through the desert. It stuck out its tongue, which glowed like an ember.

Nic hesitated. This one was trying to bait him. The other one was trying to get away.

It was obvious he should break off and chase the second djinn-

Too obvious.

Was it a bluff that put the real target in front of him and tried to trick him into going after the fake? Or a double bluff, relying on him following that precise logic. Archive Recall, the Eight-Eyed Mantle…

Nothing he tried gave him a hint.

With a snarl he chose the one dead ahead and accelerated after it. The space between them narrowed and narrowed until the djinn’s smile started to falter.

Nic’s hand shot out-

And smoke covered his vision once again. His sandboard went over a hidden dune, and he lost control of his aura as the drop sent him smashing down. The board dissolved, and Nic was thrown tumbling down the inner curve of the dune, going head over heels against the rough sand and skidding to a halt in a defeated lump.

He coughed and spat up grit.

“Damn-”

The djinn was long gone.

But as he looked up, Nic saw water.

A wide oasis was hidden within a small valley formed among the dunes, sprawling out like a blue mirror that caught the sun’s golden light. Enormous ferns, lush grass, and bending palm trees surrounded it in a fringe of green. Ancient statues and fallen ruins lifted up from the waters; there were enormous stone heads that stared out with weeping eyes, their tears refilling the oasis as the hot desert sun ate it away.

Nic had seen this nowhere on his map.

Straightening up, he shook the sand from his head.

The oasis was beautiful and tempting. His skin was growing used to the desert sun, but it still ached for moisture and cool fresh waters. But Nic couldn’t trust it so easily.

As he slowly advanced through the grass he was waiting for an evil elemental, or a deadly crocodile, some kind of insect swarm maybe-

Nothing.

He reached the edge and slowly dipped his toe in.

It was irresistibly refreshing.

“Screw it.”

Unable to hold himself back any longer Nic dove in. The water welcomed him like an old friend as he splashed forward. In moments he was deep below the blue, the sun a distant memory shining on the surface as he dove through the valleys of tangling algae and past half-drowned stone buildings. The floor of the oasis was rich with scuttling little crabs and Nic realized how long it had been since he ate.

Paddling to the surface, he hauled up an enormous blue crab and smacked it against the top of a stone head. Again and again, until the legs had ceased to kick and he’d cracked open the tough shell to reveal pale meat within. He pried out the flesh with his fingers and shoved it raw into his mouth.

It tasted sweet and delicious.

Diving back down, he came up again and again, cracking crabs on the same boulder until he had eaten his fill. He sighed and flopped backwards, floating atop the waters with his arms and legs spread out. Exhausted and happy.

“Why…” A voice made him instantly dive down, alert for danger. “Are you killing crabs with my head?” The statue head’s eyes were glowing.

“Ahhhh…” Bubbles flooded from Nic’s mouth. “I didn’t realize you were- a person?”

“Well, I am. You see before you a person.” The statue boomed, voice carrying through the waters. “A person who does not appreciate having crabguts smeared all over their skull. How would you like it if someone used your head as a blunt instrument.”

“A lot of people have said my head would make a great blunt instrument, actually!” Nic called back. “Who are you?”

“I am Mehhtep, the Weeping Guardian. Long ago I guarded this sacred place. Before the sky and the earth were torn apart.”

“You mean- before that river was floating in the sky?” Far above them, sparkling in the fading sun, was the floating river Nic had seen when he first came to the Scales of Sand. It cut across the sky like a jeweled necklace; islands hung around its course as it headed in a broad loop that passed through the doors of an enormous flying temple.

“Yes. Bring me an offering of wine and meat, and I will tell you more.”

“Uhh.” Nic paused. “Do the crabs count?”

“Absolutely not.” The head declared.

“Fffiine. I’ll see you soon then, Mehhtep.” Nic swum backwards, and began to search the oasis more thoroughly. He found enormous curled shells at the bottom of the waters, glinting like hidden treasures. He found shards of pottery and tarnished coins resting in the silt caught within the submerged ruins. But even where he found more statue heads, none of them would speak. Not even when he cracked crabs over their head experimentally to see if it took a blood sacrifice to awaken them.

Hauling himself up out of the water, Nic found himself among company. Huge buffalo like creatures had arrived at the waters edge to drink. They snorted and stamped their feet but largely ignored him as he gathered up his things.

This was a good place. Of everywhere he’d seen in the desert, only this oasis had a sense of calm and peace.

He was in no hurry to leave.

Instead, he pointed the Sandrider Blade down and made the earth bend away, spiralling outwards to leave a tunnel bored into the sands. He reinforced the wall by packing the sand tightly together to form stonelike walls, and tunneled deeper.

Within the earth he carved out a wide cavern, deep enough below that it was comfortably cool. He took out floating crystal lamps to light up the dark. He set out the cultivation mat and the fruit tree from Lavhin’s workshop. Carving a space in the walls, he put up the stone head from deep within the sand devil’s underground kingdom.

It was a perfectly suitable little cave. Climbing back up, Nic gathered palm leaves and made himself a bed to sleep in. He added a raised workstation filled with tools taken from the Hermitage. It was satisfying work. In just an hour, Nic had carved out a simple dwelling for himself. A hidden base beneath the sand.

He let the centipede squirm out of his tattoo and skitter across the ground. As it hunted for worms and mites in the sand, he began to work.

Taking out the Theoretical Quill he began to trace illusionary designs. It was simpler than drawing real runes, but required the same kind of mental effort, letting him gauge the difficulty of each design. He tried to push himself this time, combining three different sets of symbols.

Even with the Quill lessening the difficulty, it was sweat-inducing work. Slimy beads welled up on his head as he tried and failed a dozen times to get the delicate nodes and rivers of power to interlock between three supremely complicated symbols.

But after a dozen failures he got a single success. And then, after a few more rough attempts, two successes in a row. Then three.

By the end of the night he was confident enough to try for real. Dipping the Lady Nylea’s pen into a well of expensive green inks, he channeled a bead of spirit to the point. To his surprise the flow through his hand and down the pen was steadier than it had ever been. Since raising his Spiritual Clarity his Essence felt malleable and easy to use.

He set the pen aside.

“Sofia?”

There was a distinct pause before she answered. “Oh, yes. Yes Nicolas? I’m sorry. I was trying to retrieve more information on this experiment of Lavhin’s in the hopes of finding a cure.”

“Retrieve? I thought you just- knew everything?” He raised a scaly, hairless eyebrow.

“Not quite. My personal archives are extensive, but what I know is drowned by a sea of knowledge collected by Pathos. Much of that information is restricted even to me. I’ve been making requests for access.”

“I was wondering. My aura feels more flexible now. Like I can move it within my body more easily. I was thinking, there has to be something I can do with that. And I figured you would know?”

“Nicolas!” She sounded delighted. “I’m so glad you’re taking an interest. Yes, there’s definitely things we can do with your new spiritual aptitude. I’ll prepare a training regimen for tomorrow.”

“Gotcha. Tomorrow.” Lifting the pen back up, Nic began to draw.

Line after line of runic ink interlocked on the surface of the centipede-jaw hatchet. He felt the spirit of the beast begin to squirm against his mind as he sealed it down into the glyphs, collecting its soul and power to fuel a new echo-beast.

The next set of runes was a circle, tightly packed with arcane strength. He chose the same poison cultivation glyphs he’d used for the spore-lob, meant to strengthen the beast’s greatest asset; its cultivation-sealing venom.

Finally, he added the glyph he’d used to make the Bow of Red Wind, added a vicious bleeding to wounds inflicted by the axe. Since it already excelled at locking enemies down, this would make it all the better for long and protracted fights.

By the time it was complete his hand was beginning to shake from the effort of channeling his cultivation down into the inked designs. But it was undoubtedly his finest weapon yet.

When the final rune was put in place, a slimy green substance flashed into existence along the axe’s serrated blade. The ink began to smoke, the glyphs burning themselves down into the bone of the handle and forming a twisting design like a centipede wrapped around the glyph.

Hatchet of the Killing Kiss (F)

Glyph of the Hungry Spirit

(100% Charged)

Fine Glyph of Poison Cultivation

(100% Charged)

Fine Glyph of Exsanguination

(100% Charged)

This beautifully crafted hatchet bears a trio of designs dedicated to summoning forth a terrible creature, with a bite that steals Essence and inflicts a terrible bleeding curse. Weighted for throwing, it is a tool of death with a vicious soul.