Chapter 169 - Forgotten Blood III

The combination of a gentle shaking and a distant, familiar voice roused Claire from her slumber. Stifling a yawn, she slowly opened her eyes to find a familiar face right up in her own. The foal holding her by the shoulders had her cheeks puffed up and her lips twisted into an obvious pout. Truly, the sort of temper tantrum that only a fourteen year old girl could throw.

“Come on, Claire! Stop zoning out! It’s your turn.”

The red-headed deerling pointed to the board placed in front of her, a small map of a fictitious region, with tiny toy soldiers spread all across it. The red minions were clearly at an advantage. Their blue counterparts were trapped in an encirclement with all their commanders already slain. It was a game of Conquest, one of the familiar pastimes that the two had so often shared.

“I know,” said Claire. “But I can’t move my pieces. Unless you release me.”

She was expecting the younger moose to let go and return to her seat, like always, but the foal opened her eyes wide instead.

“What?” asked the lyrkress.

Her lips trembling and her eyes tearing up, Alice wrapped her arms around the older girl’s back and dove headfirst into her perfectly flat chest. The tackling headbutt of a hug came with a squeeze tight enough to hurt. Strange was the inconsistency, given that Alice was only level 27, but such was how the land of dreams worked. Nothing was supposed to make sense.

“I-I can’t believe it,” cried the redhead. “You can talk again! It’s a miracle!”

“I don’t see why that’s such a big deal,” said Claire.

Her words failed to reach the other noble lady; the pureblood was already bawling her eyes out, a commotion impossible to be missed. The door burst open just a few seconds after the younger lady raised her voice and revealed a fully armed guard, spear drawn and shieldlance at the ready. Scanning the room three times, with each check lasting longer than the last, he slowly lowered both his weapons and breathed a small sigh.

“Excuse the interruption, ladies.”

Bowing his head, he stepped out of the room and began closing the door behind him. But not before he found himself exchanging glances with the house’s heir. For just a moment, he was frozen in his tracks, and not because his mind had come to a standstill. Alarm bells rang through his head. It was almost like his body had been seized, albeit only for the briefest of moments.

“Don’t interrupt next time. Durham.”

Claire giggled internally as she watched him squirm. It was the exact same reaction he would have given, had they been conversing outside a dream. She had every intention of opening her mouth again and wounding his pride with an insult, but her head started to spin before she could. Someone was shaking her, someone other than the tear-ridden cervitaur.

The world shifted when she next blinked, back into the room that she had fallen asleep in, where she found herself greeted by a set of awfully familiar circumstances. Someone was moving her shoulders back and forth, their face too close for comfort.

“I’m awake.” Because Lia was not nearly as delicate as her cousin, Claire did not hesitate to grab her by the forehead and push her to a more acceptable distance.

“Good morning, Sleepyhead!” Sylvia popped up from behind the catgirl’s head, her paws suppressing a giggle. “Have a nice nap?”

“No.” Claire quickly glanced around the room and found that everyone was still present. The shadows were all in roughly the same positions, and she could still see the sun poking through the window. Very little time had passed, since she decided to doze off. “Have you finished with your negotiations?”

“Just now,” said Lia, with a smile. She almost didn’t seem to mind the claw grip that kept her face exactly one arm’s length away.

“Then let’s go.” Claire got to her feet and gave the huskar another curtsy. “Thank you very much for having us, Madame Popov. I do apologize for the unsightly display. I am not quite sure what came over me.”

“Not to worry, dear,” chortled the old lady. “It was a pleasure to meet you. I hope that next time, we may be able to chat a little bit longer. I would love to hear tales of your adventures.”

“Gladly.”

Claire spun around and saw herself out the door, with the other two bidding their respective farewells and following soon after.

“Does she always act completely differently in front of other people?” Lia whispered the question to the fox plodding along beside her.

“Uhmmm… not always.” Their words failed to escape the lyrkress’ ears, but she tactfully kept her mouth shut and her eyes forward. “I think it depends on how much she’s letting down her guard,” continued the fox.

“Oh…” A smile crossed Lia’s lips. Speeding up, she passed the lyrkress and spun around. “Hey Claire?” There was a happy, almost brilliant smile on the cat’s face.

“What?”

“Do you trust me?” The question was followed by a swish of the tail and a twitch of the ears. She leaned forward, into the lyrkress’ personal space again, and gave her the most expectant of looks. It was clear that she had her own thoughts on the matter, and that she was only seeking to affirm them.

“No.” But Claire, of course, was unwilling to provide the feline with even a sliver of satisfaction.

Smirking internally at the other girl’s disbelief, she magically moved the frozen cat out of her way, set her down next to a potted plant, and continued down the stairs. A quick look around the floor reminded her that it was filled with high rollers aplenty, but she ignored them all and beelined for the exit. There was no time to waste. She had temples to visit and only a few scant hours before Natalya would arbitrarily decide that it was too late to go spelunking.

But as hurried as she was, she found herself stopping as she noted the next guest to enter the building. The person that Ktktart greeted was a sea creature with an awfully familiar set of pink scales. She was moving not with any legs, but rather a strange three-wheeled vehicle with a pedal-like mechanism powered by her tail and a leather strap that kept the lower half of her body off the ground.

“Hello.” She approached the mermaid as soon as she was cleared to enter the store, and greeted her with a tilt of the head.

“Oh, it’s the person who sold us our map! Hi!” said Sylvia.

The half-fish was not as quick to recognize the customer. She had to stare for a good few seconds before clapping her hands in realisation.

“Oh, hello! You’re the pair that accidentally ventured into the adu—”

A hand clamped her jaw shut. Claire grabbed the mermaid by the face, just as she had during their previous encounter and narrowed her eyes. “Don’t say it.”

“Right. I guess that wouldn’t be the best idea.” Smiling sheepishly, the fish tried to remove the lyrkress’ hand, but to no avail. “Could you please let go of me? I like my skull better when it isn’t dented by a violent adventurer with ears too sharp for her own good.”

“...Fine.” Claire released the saleslady and crossed her arms. “Why are you here?”

“Funny you should ask.” She took a few moments to check the side of her head for dents before reaching into her bag and retrieving a hexagonal stone. “Because I happen to be peddling something you might be interested in.” The runic device was small enough to fit perfectly in the palm of the mermaid’s hand.

“What is it?” asked the lyrkress. It was clearly enchanted, but she knew too little about the runic letters to decipher the object’s purpose.

“It’s one of Canterbell’s latest inventions, an artifact that can store books and reproduce them as magical projections,” said the mermaid, proudly.

“Wait, really? So doesn’t that mean it’s basically just a library?” asked Sylvia.

“Not exactly, but you could technically use it to make one,” said the bookseller.

“I don’t see why I would be interested,” said Claire.

“It happens to contain all of the erotic fiction in my sho—”

A glare cut the fish short. “I’m leaving. Goodbye.” She was tempted to grab the mermaid by the face, again, but Ktktart’s eyes were already on her, so she turned around and walked out the door.

“Bye! See ya later!” Sylvia stood up on her hind legs and waved before scampering up the length of her mount’s body and taking her usual seat.

It was not until they stepped out of the store that Claire finally stopped and looked behind her. “Where’s the cat?”

“Uhmmm… dunno, but I can find out, if you want.”

“Do it.”

“Okay! Let’s see…” Sylvia hummed up a small bubble more reflective than the usual fare. “It looks like she’s coming down the stairs now, but she’s still sulking. Oh! She started taking deep breaths and trying to make herself look normal because she’s about to get to the bottom. And now she’s walking over but her face is turning red and she looks kinda mad.”

“Sylvia! Stop! Please! ” shouted the indignant cat.

“H-huh? Stop what?” blinked the fox.

“Stop watching me! And stop telling the whole world exactly what I’m doing!” she pointed into the shop, at the receptionists that were listening in, and the other guests, many of whom happened to be doing the same. Their voices were still silent, but they were all looking at the fox’s victim as one would an object of interest.

“Oh… oops.” The Llystletein native clamped her paws over her mouth and further obscured it with her tail for good measure.

“It’s too late now!” squeaked Lia. “Everyone already knows!”

“Uhmmmm… sorry. I’ll try not to do that next time.”

“You better not,” huffed the catgirl. “I swear! Both of you ar—”

“Talk while we walk.” Claire tail-grabbed the cat by the shoulders and forcibly relocated her, so she was at the group’s front.

“Okay, okay, I will!” grumbled the cat. “Stop shoving me already!”

Still somewhat miffed, Natalya led the party down a series of streets. The quality of the buildings rose with each turn. They were clearly headed somewhere high class. But knowing that was not what fed Claire’s unease. The lyrkress was bothered instead by the strange fiery sensation burning through her chest. Her divinity was surging, reacting to the holy domains nearby. Counting them was beyond her, with the fire expanding through to her mind, but she could tell that they were clustered in close proximity, fighting one another for dominance and control.

Some of them were so powerful that they made her head spin, but she clenched her teeth and kept walking. Neither of the others appeared to be bothered. Lia was perfectly calm, and Sylvia was humming one of her usual tunes.

Log Entry 6019

You have been connected to World Chat.

A small frown crossed her lips as Flux’s voice suddenly rang through her head. She only vaguely recalled the previous incident. Because it was just a strange, one-off occurrence, she had thought too little of it to find herself concerned, but seeing the strange interface again had compounded her uncertainty.

Alfred: Hey! Look who’s back.

(Whisper) Flux: Hi :)

Dorr: Isn’t she the one that got d/ced after like 10s?

Alfred: Yup. It’ll probably happen again. She doesn’t have much divinity.

Dorr: Then why’s she connecting to WC? Can’t talk to no one with the chat going. Not that I’m helping.

Alfred: Don’t ask me.

Severantus: Damn it, Alfred. I bet this is all your fault again.

Flux: When is it not?

Surely enough, she found herself bombarded by lines and lines of text over which she had very little control. There was no obvious way to make it go away, even though it was draining her divinity. She had been planning to hold onto all five points, just in case she needed to resist the gods she was to visit. No matter how scant and pitiful said resistance would be.

Vella: I’m pretty sure Alfred did it.

(Whisper) Vella: Come to my temple. I’ll give you a nice quest and a much better reward than any of the others.

Alfred: Bullshit. You’re just trying to pin it on me so it’s not obvious that you’re trying to go carpet munching again.

Vella: I am NOT!

Alfred: Like anyone would believe you.

(Whisper) Alfred: Don’t trust Vella. Her lock opens for any key.

Dorr: Can you two get a room? I know neither of you have much to do, but we really don’t need you polluting the chat again.

(Whisper) Alfred: Oh and congratulations on meeting your first catgirl. I’ve been keeping a careful eye on Natalya since she was young and I must say, sh—

Log Entry 6020

You have been disconnected from World Chat. Incoming messages have been truncated. (Error Code: 18107. Insufficient Divinity.)

It took only a few seconds for the last dredges of her divine power to drain. Worry was the first thing on her mind. She disliked being robbed of a resource, especially for no reason. But as concerned as she was, she quickly found that deprivation was not without its merits. The pulsing fire that had plagued her chest was gone; it no longer felt like the shard was at risk of suddenly bursting into a thousand pieces.

“Woah! Are all of those temples?” asked Sylvia.

“Every last one!” said a less sulky Natalya. “Isn’t this place just amazing?”

“Yeah, totally!”

Claire’s newfound relief was what allowed her to make the final turn and join the others on a long, wide street that ran all the way up a distant cliff. It was one of Vel’khagan’s most famous streets, lined on both sides with nothing but temples and churches. No two religious structures were even remotely similar. Each was constructed in a way that would please the corresponding divine; Builledracht’s looked like a mass of shriveled vines, Vella’s was made to resemble a large breast plate, and Xekkur’s was the skull of a mighty beast unknown.

Though it was not the closest, Tzaarkus’ temple was the first that they visited. It sat atop a particularly elevated mound of soil, albeit not the one at the cliff’s summit. The building’s entrance was a long flight of stairs away, but otherwise remained just as plain and boring as its Vel’rulmian equivalent. It was certainly among the shoddiest of the street’s constructs, but its visitors and staff conducted themselves with pride nonetheless.

“Hi there! Welcome to the temple of thunder.” An over-enthused, middle-aged giant awaited them at the front desk. Even with his back hunched, he sat at a height of over five meters. His frame and bearded face were almost intimidating, but the effect was completely offset by his disproportionate glasses. The tiny frames sitting atop his nose were so small that they looked like they belonged to a human child.

Reaching into her robe, Claire produced Farenlight’s smallest horn and set it down on the counter. “I was told that you needed a soundstone.”

The already wide grin on the giant’s face grew larger and more vibrant as he raised the tiny crystal to his face and examined it with one eye. “What a wonderful stone! And with such good timing, traveler. Ours broke just the other day.”

“I know.”

Log Entry 6021

You have completed “Replace the Soundstone of Clarity.”

You have been blessed by the God of Thunder. You have become more likely to be struck by lightning in the event of a storm. Electric-based attacks that target you are more accurate than usual.

Claire turned around immediately and pulled her hood over her eyes. She could feel her brow twitching in much the same manner as her fingers.

“Thank you kindly for your donation!” shouted the giant. “Is there anything that we might be able to do for you, young lady?” He got up from his chair and chased after her with his voice bellowing, but she dismissed him with a shake of the head.

“No. Nothing at all.”

“H-huh?” The catigrl she seized by the hand reacted with a blink. “We’re leaving already? Aren’t we going to pray?”

Claire shook her head. “There’s not enough time.”

She was unwilling to offer the divine any sort of praise or worship. The obnoxious deity had given her not a blessing for her efforts, but another curse. She wanted to run a knife through the ungrateful prick’s face, but he was a god, and she was not; any conflict between them was unlikely to end with a result in her favour.

Vengeance would have to wait until she completed Flux’s directive.