Rule 21

Some Have Faith & Others Solve Problems

Statement: Later in this journal I’ll both recount what I was told regarding magic and attempt to recap it in a way that makes more sense against my experiences. At this juncture I shall make two points of note. First, magic simply starts freeform and flexible, then it develops and forms rules. Second, at this phase I was utterly unaware of point one, which meant I was confused quite frequently. So, if anyone reading this journal feels utterly lost by the magic, imagine how I felt living it.

Lost is too kind a word. Still, survival required acceptance first, reason exploration would always need to wait until my life wasn’t in danger.

“The other layer is gone,” Allegra confirmed. I couldn’t turn my head right to get a good look at her. My two minutes had ended and I’d been slammed back to this weird starting point. That made no sense, but then again, not much did. It had to be related to the piece of paper. That could work if the board was an artifact.

“You must be our ghost,” Callisto said. She drove the blade into skin and I felt the metal sink in but noticed no pain. The sensation made me flinch and worry that I might suddenly become corporal and find a sword lodged in my throat.

“I must be,” I responded. The words stretched and echoed softly. As if my voice came from somewhere farther away than my mouth. I marked the vocal effect as another mystery to explore.

Hopefully this spell would fade, but only when Callisto was looking in another direction. I could only assume glowing white made it hard to turn invisible.

She glared at me. I searched around the room. The door I’d ducked into, after burning away a small bit of dried slime, had vanished. The alcove with its tube of goop might still exist if I could use my intangibility to get through the wall.

“Ghost is stupid. What do we call you?” Callisto demanded.

I almost smirked but managed to fight back the amusement. They were giving me the chance to name myself. According to Midge, that was a good sign. The downside is I hadn’t been able to say my name as something other than the one I’d been born with.

Post Note: This seems like a weird requirement for this new world, the more I think about it. Is it attachment to a name that enforces the truth? Or letter of the law, such as a birth certificate? How then, does this inability to lie work with being given nick names, such as Coach Madison, Little Shade, Midge and Pix, or Mister Underwood versus Hawthorn? When is it a lie and when is it simply a Go-By?

“Ghost is fine. It’s easier.” That, like everything else I said, was not a lie. Dying would be easier than telling a falsehood. “And once we’re done here, you may never see me again.”

Callisto glanced at Leon. He shook his head.

“A ghost?” Allegra looked at a small piece of paper and took a step back. Grime covered her clothes but they were oddly whole. The number of robes she’d worn had dwindled to one light purple piece of fabric, with no sign of what had happened to the rest.

Leon turned and glanced at me. He was also a mess. His dull armor had a ring of goop hardened around his helmet’s edges.

“He’s in the party now,” Leon said. “But it’s G-H-S-T. With quotations around it. Clearly a pseudonym.”

“What?” Callisto asked.

“He’s in the party. We’ll figure out the rest later.” Leon rocked. His lips, which were barely visible in the open faceplate he currently wore, curled with a frown.

“How?”

“Doesn’t matter. The boss is regenerating,” Leon charged ahead with his shield. “Health bar’s back. Though smaller, so we’re making progress.”

“What?” Callisto asked. “Shit. Fuck. Split four! This has got to be it. Ghost, or whatever, help or we’re all dead,” she said, and charged the enemy. I followed her mad dash and rubbed my neck in fear Callisto had poked a hole.

My skin felt as normal as ever. Warm to the touch, slightly rough from not shaving in forever, and dry. I needed a long hot bath and a razor.

“Fifty percent! Leon, get those blobs. Allie, anything?”

Sure enough, the boss monster was coming together. I could see the actual enemy now. A thousand small bubbling monster piles were pulling themselves out of the splattered mess. They popped together, creating teardrop-shaped creatures that slimed toward the middle of the room.

Two glommed together to form a bigger monster. A third joined and it grew. Tons of blobs traveled toward the center. Dozens plopped down from the ceiling. More still along the ground.

Allegra knelt next to me with a concerned expression. “Lance?”

I made sure the other two were looking away and nodded.

“Oh mah god.” The blonde stepped back and pout a hand over her mouth. “You’re white. I mean like really white. Practically a ghost. What happened? Is this because of—” Her words were cut off by Callisto’s sudden shout.

“Today. I need something, today.” She sputtered as goo exploded and caked her face. Moments later Callisto struck the Slime King’s body but nothing happened.

Light flashed. Leon lifted his hammer half a second later but nothing happened at the top. Both the sights set me back a step. I stood, noticing the odd visual trails after my body. They hung longer than they had before.

I blinked. It seemed as though there was a time delay in how fast I noticed events happening. Either Callisto figured out how to move faster than the speed of light, distorted the timing of her blow with magic, or I wasn’t in sync with everyone else. None of the possibilities comforted me.

“What’s happening?” I asked, hoping Allegra would know.

Allegra shook her head and glanced at the papers. “Underwood? How are you…”

“Focus!” Callisto yelled from ahead.

I stared into the distance and didn’t fully register Allegra’s words. Her smell haunted my nostrils and the sharp soft combination of her and Callisto caused my eyebrows to tighten. No scents had been present during our separate worlds. It was so strange seeing people again, despite the large goo monster.

“Ghost, do something,” Callisto ordered.

I stared at her ass and lifted an eyebrow. Somehow the chain mail was working for me. There should have been tension from the giant ball of slime but it didn’t have a mouth or anything else. The monster clearly hurt fabric more flesh. My own pants were tattered after being washed multiple times by green splatters. It would also go poorly if the creature engulfed someone.

That’s exactly what happened to Leon. A dozen bubbles fell off the ceiling onto his armor. The man spun wildly, dropped his heavy shield and tried to grab the indifferent liquid.

I sighed and stuck a hand in my pocket as if pondering what to do next. Fingers slipped into the first page with ease, energy pooled and tingled. Two breaths later I unleashed fire near Leon.

He flailed. I adjusted my hand to burn away the outer edge. His wide eyes, and face, were off-colored inside the creature, but anyone should be able to hold their breath for ten or fifteen seconds. I could do it. Assuming air mattered anymore with my weird glowing body and funny voice.

I suppressed my budding worry and focused on nearly boiling Leon like a lobster. In my head, I counted to five and the long cone stopped. My body felt heavy. My explosive spells drained me too but I’d grown used to them. This was almost the same.

“Leon.” Allegra sounded worried. I turned to see her bent over a soggy piece of paper with her fingers lost in the surface. She looked up and her mouth moved.

I’d already heard the shout. Once again I registered how disjointed I’d become. This after echo version of reality was tough to deal with. Something clanged. I turned. Callisto slammed into a wall without noise.

“Shit,” I said. The word echoed a breath later. “I can’t focus. This isn’t working.”

Leon coughed on the ground. Or he coughed then his body jerked and the armor moved.

“Blame… lag,” he said.

“Allie, is it a status affect?” Callisto ran by with her mouth moving at the wrong time.

“Yes,” Leon and Allegra said at the same time.

That made perfect sense. It was lag. When that creature had died it’d put me into the room with everyone else, fighting what everyone else saw, but the process of syncing with them had grown worse. Or it’d started bad and I hadn’t noticed because of the sword in my neck. Maybe my body wasn’t even my own.

The sound of metal on metal screeching spiked. A stray glob that had yet to catch up popped. Callisto turned and shot a beam through the air. I fell to one side and watched as the visual image caught up with the sound. Her beam sailed by, carving a path through listless blobs that had yet to rejoin the main spot.

Post Note: It may seem like these events are in reverse order, and I wish to assure people this is what happened. Magic is dangerous. New, untested magic, is that much more dangerous. A wiser man would have waited to test out the white spell, or perhaps never absorbed it in the first place. Greed made me foolish.

“I need a weakness,” Callisto said. Her hair clung to the side of her face. She was tired, more than tired. Each of those beams must be draining her stamina.

Leon was no less ragged. He coughed on the ground and curled into a ball.

Allegra stared in horror at her piece of paper. I shook my head, once again it was up to me to do something. Only I wasn’t moving like I normally would.

I glanced around the room and searched for changes. On the other side, I’d seen smooth walls reaching up in an arch. The same thing happened here. On the other side, there had been vents and a small room. Those were gone. I worked to piece together how that side might be able to pour miniature oozes out of a hose. It had to draw from some larger source, such as boss monster or perhaps the biggest reservoir of gelatin ever.

The large wall of jiggling ooze towering over Callisto was the main difference. She stood defiant with a sword in each hand and screamed at the faceless monster. I squinted to figure out how they’d popped this thing three times already. There were no weak points that I could see. The knife in my hand felt unguided.

Maybe with enough high proof liquor or bottles of bleach, we could defeat the beast. I had neither. There were foam sprinklers on the ceiling. This place lacked trashcans with hidden rat bosses manipulating the ooze.

That was a good point to ponder though. How did the material glom together on its own? It had no core or center mass. No part of it had more shading than the other. Even my monster vision, for lack of a better way to label the ability, didn’t highlight the mass. It was like the thing we were fighting wasn’t a creature at all.

An idea occurred to me. A terribly wicked idea that might be possible. The creature I’d killed could have somehow used the board to create separate layers. It could have simply dropped huge amounts of goo from the tube, one bucket at a time, or run the factory forever. Either way, the answer was in that room. I needed to go back, if I could.

Callisto was swamped with ooze. She spun inside a living tidal wave made of gross monster. It rolled around the floor, or whatever ooze monsters did to get around. We were basically fighting living emerald rain drops and I hadn’t figured out how to classify it beyond “annoying.”

“Leon?” I questioned and cursed to myself. Ghost barely knew them. “You have a way to buy a couple of minutes?”

He had a few major abilities, but if Callisto had learned a new trick, maybe he had as well. I still didn’t know where she learned the sword slashing move. But I glowed and could push my hand through walls. The world changed us every single day.

Callisto hacked away. Beams came off her blades and tore through the slime and carried on toward the far end of the room. With each blast, chunks of goo-creature splattered apart. Her attacks left fresh scratches in the wall yards away from her.

I stared open mouthed. She gutted the mass from the inside. With each blast, her body twisted and turned. My head shook off the awkward sight of a naked woman, aside from chainmail, flopping around inside gelatin. As Hawthorn, I might toss Allegra in just to get a good show.

“Leon, can you cast a sanctuary?” Allegra asked.

Leon’s head dipped in a nod. He used the hammer’s hilt to push himself up. The knight’s knees banged together as he managed to stand. I briefly admired the guy for his resilience. Armor had to help. I wondered if I might be able to get some armor as Mister Underwood. That would be impressive.

His head bobbed up and down. He seemed to be struggling for breath. Allegra rushed past me and knelt next to the man, until her face peered up into his. Her single remaining, flimsy robe served as a stark contrast to his worn armor. They suited each other. Perhaps it was the blond hair and slight gold shimmer around his body, or the way she seemed to offer him succor in his time of need.

He held the hammer and offered a prayer. “By the grace of Mayor Kent and the strength of my faith, let no evil come near to while I still draw breath.” His body held steady despite his weariness.

Though his faith was misplaced, there was conviction to his words. For a moment, only a moment, I hated him. I hated everything he represented.

“God’s not here,” I whispered and walked by the lot of them. Callisto and her ragged form, huffing and free of the ooze. She staggered toward Leon. Fuck her, him, and Allegra. I didn’t need them. I’d handle this on my own.

The doorway might not exist here anymore, but that room on the other side of the wall should still be there. We weren’t getting out of here any other way.

At the far end the gel was thicker than ever. I burned a hole and behind me the monster wiggled violently. The others said words but they were lost under the roar of fire. As soon as the first spell faded, I reapplied my magic and unleashed another miniature inferno. My head swam from the back-to-back flames.

Ooze near my foot changed direction, climbing over my bare toes. A larger chunk barely in my peripherals also veered toward me. I glanced over my shoulder. There was an Olympic-sized pool’s worth of the liquid still focused on engulfing Leon. Callisto lay on the ground next to the other two. Around him a huge magical bubble managed to shine weakly out of the mass.

I glanced down and ground my teeth. Richard would have been a lot like Leon. Able to stand in front of others. Swearing loyalty to my father, Mayor Kent. Callisto probably would have liked him better too. Richard had been fit, reliable, and a proven father. I turned away again and focused on doing something useful, like solving our problems.

More fire sprayed out to cleanse the wall. I dropped to my knees and fought back fresh nausea. My stomach twisted. Acid crept into the back of my mouth. My arms felt heavy and I wanted to sleep. It would pass.

I pushed away the overwhelming sensations and managed to get on my feet. Green liquid flowed around my legs, pushing inside my limited garments and pressing against flesh. I stared in confusion. My clothes were being eaten. My few remaining clothes.

“Fuck off!” I screamed and reached into the worn pocket for more fire. Liquid sizzled. Gas formed. More ooze filled in the gap. Trying to drink an ocean would have been more effective.

I leaned into the wall and considered praying. Before I could make myself a fool like Leon, I pushed through. My hand felt even heavier. The wall swallowed my hand like quick sand. Bubbles rolled along the surface as my vision was distorted by the gas.

The pressure on my fingertips lessened. I pushed harder until one foot slipped in the mire around my legs. My face slammed into the wall then started to wink in. My eyes closed and I took a deep breath in case.

Something moved past me. Or I pushed through it. My mind couldn’t tell the difference. I wondered if I’d drown. I wondered if the secret room even existed anymore. The movement of my fingers could be a trick or an illusion. Magic might have tempted me into permanent death.

Then my lips loosened. The pressure on my face lifted. I opened an eye and saw the room I’d been in before. The stacked empty totes were on one side. That board on the other. A doorknob stuck out a few feet to my right. I’d missed the door but still found the goal.

Even the floor to ceiling tube looked nearly the same. This time I could see the creature inside. In the muck floated a single eyeball, and maybe a foot above that eye was a crown made of dull metal.

The others were on borrowed time. Being angry at them didn’t mean I wished them to die, not when they could be useful. No matter how powerful I was on my own, I couldn’t be in two places at once. I went straight for the main container and turned the handle.

Liquid splashed onto the ground. I let it pile up until the mess was everywhere then I burned it. More green liquid oozed out and the eyeball swiveled around. Without additional facial features, I couldn’t tell what it was thinking, but I liked to believe it was panicking. The idea made me giggle. I renewed my spell and burned again.

With each wave of fire, the ooze in the floor to ceiling tube drained. The eyeball got smaller and spun faster. Still, ooze poured from the faucet and onto the ground. It had nowhere else to go. Once enough lay on the floor, I added more flame.

By the third repeat the room had changed colors. I felt sick. Billows of smoke blocked my vision. By the eighth cast the tube was completely obscured and nothing could be seen at all. I coughed and continued the process until the steady dripping of liquid halted.

There were no other sounds. No thumping monster outside. Callisto’s shouts gone. They might have died despite my efforts. I coughed wetly and stumbled for the door handle.

Post Note: I wonder why it was closed. I had opened it once to get in this room. At the time, I’d never even considered this fact. The other possibility is something else had closed it for me. One day I’ll learn the secrets behind this place.

Fresh air poured in and mixed with the cloud that had been trapped. I kneeled on the ground and felt only dry metal flooring. I lowered further still and scanned the room from before. All the ooze I’d been wading through lay utterly inert. That had to be a good sign.

I crawled back in to see what had happened to the creature in the tube. Not much of the room had become visible. I could make out the ruins of a tack board, hanging from a wall. The glass tube completely empty. My legs wobbled but I managed to push myself up, hands pressed against the glass, and stared into the tube. There, in the basin, was a sad and thin crown but no eyeball.

Then all my exertion caught up to me and I fell into the pile of plastic tubs.