Chapter 54: A Mercurial Handprint, A New Gnarl

I returned my attention to Gaea, suspended in her cell. The faintest of bioluminescent greens glowed among the clear-blue gel. As we contemplated what to wish for, the control panel bloomed to life. Numerical and graphical statistics played across the screen. I had little concept of how to interpret the readout specifics, but I gleaned the general marrow of it. Her already dim glow was fading further.

“If they know we’re here...” DarkNeon started.

“They might’ve ended her experiment early?” Relja finished.

“I thought this stupid Troika were supposed to be geniuses!” the Rogue quailed. “Any fool could see that stealing a deity’s power isn’t a bright idea.”

“Controlling for the types of tests she has endured is statistically impossible,” said Vick5. “Often, genius snowballs into fool’s territory.”

“Okay,” said Azwold, “less talking, more doing, yeah? What’s our wish gonna be, Eld?”

I studied my scapula tablet to learn the spell’s details. “It is a one-time use spell,” I said. “Please give me a moment to consider.”

My party waited with anxious energy.

“I wish,” I said, pausing. “I wish to protect Realms of Lore from those who would harm it, and to undo the damage Telemoon has done.” We watched words float smokily from my jaw, spiraling in on themselves to form glyphs in the air.

“Not bad,” said Azwold.

My wish drifted to the slumbering goddess as if the high-tech glass was no barrier. It floated in, porous and inky, unraveled, and climbed all over her like the silver wires on Gnarlroot’s bark the night of my summoning.

The capsule glass clanked and hissed open, spilling gel onto the floor. The woman slumped like the kobold shaman had.

We all stood frozen. Waiting. Hoping.

In that silence, her last breath escaped. The goddess perished, disintegrating and glimmering like silver raindrops. From the holy motes, a strange geometric bubble formed. Inside, a creature congealed as the bubble rotated slowly like a hologram. Conceived with extra dimensions, the bubble’s visibility existed more via intuition than optical vision.

The bubble popped and a silver faerie appeared. She winked open one skeptical eye, then turned toward the back of the cell, doggy paddling through the capsule’s liquid medium. She placed a tiny palm on the rear pod wall, leaving a neon grey handprint.

Gossamer, iridescent wings the size of my hands unfurled. Then she hopped up like living mercury and flew off down the hallway. Twinkling, shiny tracers trailed her. As soon as she appeared, she dimmed and was gone.

“So, um,” DarkNeon fidgeted, looking around. “Did it work?”

A round wooden door—like a buckler shield—materialized where the faerie had touched. Her mercurial handprint shifted, morphing into an etched silver doorknob.

“Maybe it did,” said Relja, pointing at the new door.

“I hypothesize the goddess test subject has completed a metamorphosis into a pantheon state,” said Vick5.

“The Shattering is complete,” I said, half question, half statement.

“Hopefully she interpreted your wish in a good way,” said Relja.

“We prolly coulda workshopped it a little more,” said DarkNeon. “But it seemed okay.”

“Did we fail?” asked Azwold, checking his quest log. “Maybe the Shattering was inevitable… We’ll never be able to undo all the damage Telemoon’s done, but at least we’re doing all we can. This may cheer everyone up a bit. Look.”

I glimpsed the top of something below the gel line. An egg-shaped object the size of a treasure chest.

“The quest objectives were to ‘locate the goddess and free her,’ correct?” said Vick5. “We have technically completed stated objectives. Congratulations.”

The pod chest, released from whatever mechanism held it submerged, bobbed to the surface. I cracked the lid open.

Inside I found [Shattered Breeches]; tattery silver cloth rose from the chest and wrapped around my leg bones tightly, automatically equipping. As the breeches enveloped my ugly [Pelt Pants], I felt a power gain. Each new piece of questline gear I equipped granted me increasingly beneficial boosts.

“Alright, cool,” said DarkNeon. “We set literal Gaea free and you get some pants. Very neat. Unfortunate name for a pair of pants though if you ask me.”

Ignoring her, I continued searching the pod. “That’s not everything,” I said, retrieving a thick, bony disk with pokey bits. “One more mystery solved. A stolen vertebra, no longer lost.”

I held the [Eld Lumbar] behind me, and my vine tendrils reached out, lifting coat tails to entwine it. My spinal column vines stretched, separating my lower back enough to reel my newly acquired bone into place.

“Anything?” said Azwold, gaze intent.

But I sensed no new understandings coursing through me like normal. I shook my head, relieved and disappointed.

“Really? Nothing?” Azwold said, pushing my coat to the side to inspect that I had installed the vertebra properly. “Well,” he said with a suspicious tone, “do you at least feel more prepared to face danger?”

“Please no,” said DarkNeon.

“Because you have extra spine now.” He grinned.

Relja facepalmed. “You don’t always have to grab the low-hanging fruit, Az. Can we continue now?”

“Puns and cynicism are all I’ve got.” Azwold shrugged. “Misread the room, I guess.”

“We must vacate the Nevahjian Enclave,” said Vick5. “And the last faerie has provided us an exit.”

The far moon portal swirled back into activity. But whether Telemoon or players, we could not tell.

“Shall I lead the way?” I said. Climbing into the pod goo almost knee deep, I waded a few steps and tried the doorknob.

It turned.

I pushed. A small wave of capsule gel gushed out onto a frosty lawn. A long, disconcerted moment washed over me; confused familiarity. The place’s differentness distorted my ability to recognize.

Gnarlroot Hill’s gentle slope fell away before me. My yard had evolved further, like a collection of miniature fortresses. Wrought iron fencing and chiseled stone melded together to form something like an under-construction cathedral.

Hesitation melted away, and I crawled through the narrow, circular opening and into my graveyard. I stood, silently taking in the scene as my party members joined me. Their misty breaths and frigid commentary told me that winter gripped my yard more tightly than when I had left it.

“I’ve got good news, and I’ve got bad news,” said Azwold. “A new quest appeared just now.” He showed me his black tablet, and I saw step ten of eleven displayed. I viewed my own:

Quest Name: “Gnarlroot The Eld’s Stolen Bones” (Progress 10/11)

Type: Epic, Multi-stage, Class-specific

Class: Spirit Mage (Level 36+)

Materials: ???

Objectives: Re-open Gnarlroot Hill for Realms of Lore’s general public

Rewards: 800XP, 750gold, [Item Text Here]

“Does it feel like the game is making these quests up on the fly?” asked Relja, reading over my shoulder.

“We need to heal up and figure this out,” said DarkNeon, climbing an exedra to gain a sentry view. “Because... are you a game dev? I’m not. How the heck are we supposed to finish this area’s upgrade from inside the game?”

I looked behind me to where the wooden door had opened. Gnarlroot’s trunk crunched itself into a round knot as the portal closed.

“Quest progression was the good news,” said Azwold, staring at Gnarlroot’s new gnarl. “Bad news is: if the fence and gate are still impassable, then we’re stuck here until we solve the problem.”

We joined the Rogue on the crescent bench of grey marble, still marveling at the changes to my yard. Mausoleums and crypts had sprouted up alongside dirt paths. There were sarcophagi, altars, and cairns sprawling out among the existing tombstones. But there was a structure to it, not just individual elements randomly placed. From the taller lichgate where the path began, to the edges of iron fencing encircling it all, an air of intentional architecture permeated my yard. Imagining the completed schematics pleased me. Mayhap this was a form of player housing?

“Did the game construct my graveyard like this, by itself?” I asked.

“Is the aesthetic in line with what you might have planned yourself?” asked Vick5.

“Mayhap,” I said, still confused.

“The quest goal is to open this place up?” said DarkNeon. “I’m gonna go check the gate.”

“Sounds like a smart start,” said Relja. “I’ll come.”

“Hold,” I said. “The goddess invited us here by way of portal magic, but the state of my yard is unknown. Be careful.”

“Players aren’t supposed to explore unfinished zones,” said Relja. “But it’s more exciting this way, don’t you think?”

“I agree that caution is wise,” said Azwold. “This is our penultimate quest step. It won’t be a simple walk in the park.”

“Cohesive grouping is advisable,” said Vick5.

“Let us move as one, then,” I said. “To the gate.”

From behind Gnarlroot’s hill, back among the stone and ironworks, came a muted, echoing laughter.

“Well, that’s not creepy,” said DarkNeon.

“I know that laugh,” said Azwold. “Not sure if it’s always been creepy, or if the context helps.”

“Hello everyone,” came the voice of an icy figure. Ralos emerged from the shadows between crypts. “Welcome, welcome. Thank you for coming. I set all this up while you messed around in Nevahj.”

“Explain yourself, Ralos,” said Azwold.

“But I thought you wanted to open the gate?” he said, concern creasing his brow.

“Be warned: Ralos’ classification is no longer ‘Spirit Mage,’ but ‘Mentalist,’” said Vick5.

I noticed Ralos wore several grave iron items, too.

“Oh yes,” said Ralos. “Do you like my upgrade? I do. Highly recommended... if you can attain it. I can do useful things like this now.” He waved his hand. “Azwold, invite me to the party.”

“What!” DarkNeon whirled out her daggers.

“Azwold is not party leader,” said Vick5.

But quicker than I could stop, Azwold slid his finger around the screen of my tablet. Our maximum party size increased, Ralos accepted my tablet’s invitation, and then accepted a promotion to party leader.

“Now things are correct,” said Ralos. “Follow me.”

I watched as my party did as instructed.

“I thought you’d cause problems,” said Ralos, dallying. “Wait there,” he said to the others. “I guess I can’t make you do things that way,” he turned back to me, lowering his voice, “but if we’re partied when we complete this next quest step, well… then we’ll both reap the rewards. Understand?”

I stared at him, containing my old anger within my ribcage. I said nothing.

“I helped summon you, you know,” said Ralos, casually ambling back to my party. “Why don’t you come along before I make your friends hurt each other. There we go.”

I stood rooted.

“Listen,” he said, “you know how you’re a spirit in a game character? Telemoon made that happen. I made it happen. And now that I’m in charge, my abilities are extra spicy. What I’m trying to say is, if I make these guys go at it like battle pets, they’re going to feel it out of game. It’ll leave some spicy scars. Understand now? Come along.”

I trudged behind, hesitant.

“What I’d really like to do,” he continued, “is put real spirits into players, not little minions. That’d be such a breakthrough. Wouldn’t you prefer that? I would.”

“You have gone too far already,” I said.

“That feels like a subjective assessment to me. Remember, real life geniuses have bigger thinky thoughts than you. Maybe my idea of ‘too far’ differs from yours. I define things. Make a note of that.”

“You killed a goddess,” I said. “Your definitions are garbage.”

“My data suggests what I predicted it would; gods can’t die. Not all the way, anyway.”

“You have nothing but corrupted data,” I said.

“You say ‘data,’ I say ‘data.’ Taters n’ tots. I’m ready to open this gate up, aren’t you? We’re so close. Plus, do you have any idea how satisfying seeing this plan through is?”

The [Hive Scepter]’s old ‘Warden’ produced a glass-ice key. “Above average satisfaction!” he said, turning the key in an oversized padlock of rust and turquoise, weathered copper. There was a click and a clank. Then, the metallic rhythm of fat chains sliding to the dirt.