Chapter 225 - Through the Looking Glass II

A little girl with a bumpy dorsal fin sighed as she stared out a tiny glass window. Her big, blue tail was swinging in her chair, her fins were buried in her cheeks, and her lips were twisted into an adorable pout. It was early in the afternoon, only an hour past lunch. She was supposed to be outside, playing in fields with her friends. If she was lucky, she could even sneak off into the forest while none of the grown ups were looking and play with Mr. Cammy. But she couldn’t. She had been stuck inside for a whole week already.

It wasn’t because it was wet and rainy outside. It was still nice and warm, and the sun was way up in the sky, but none of the grown ups would let her go outside. They kept saying that it was too dangerous to play, but she knew that they were just lying so they could hog all the sun to themselves. It wasn’t fair. They were still doing all the things they always did, like working the fields, and they even let the older kids help them. Eva, however, was too small to be anything but stuck inside. All the other kids were there too, cooped up in the temple with absolutely nothing to do at all.

The temple wasn’t really the problem. Eva didn’t mind it, and she loved all its priests and priestesses. They always patched her up whenever she got hurt without ever scolding her like her mother, and Sister Ar’viette was even nice enough to make her favourite snacks every time she visited. All the dried clams and shrimp flakes made her tummy happy, that didn’t change the fact that she was bored out of her mind.

Some of her friends were okay with staying inside; the temple was one of the best spots to play hide and seek because it had nooks and crannies everywhere, but it wasn’t the same as playing outdoors. Sitting in a tree was way more fun than hiding in some stuffy cabinet.

It was almost like she was being grounded even though she did nothing wrong, and worse yet, there were even a bunch of strange, dangerous-looking people trying to move into the village. The four weirdos wore different clothes from everyone else, and she had even seen one of them turn into a monster one night when no one was watching, but none of her friends had believed her when she tattled, and her parents brushed it off like it wasn’t a big deal even though it really was.

“Oh, I know! Maybe Sister Barn’stell will listen.”

Leaping off her chair, and landing with an oof, the tiny shark pitter-pattered her way across the temple grounds. Climbing the stairs was really tough. She had to stop and catch her breath three times before she made it all the way to the top, but eventually, she dragged herself up onto the fifth floor and raced her way across the finish line.

She stood up on her tippy toes and raised a fin to knock, but she stopped when she heard an unfamiliar voice come from the other side of the door. The tiny kelpfin knew that she wasn’t supposed to stick her nose into the grown ups’ business, but she couldn’t help it. She grabbed the handle, creaked it open, and peeked inside with her suspicions growing.

Sister Barn’stell was speaking with the weirdos she hated. And to make matters worse, all four of them were grouped up together, and none acted with even the tiniest little bit of respect. The creepy bug man was playing with his scythe arms, the nerdy girl with the glasses was staring at a book, and worst of all, the really white girl with the weird orange hat was fast asleep. The one with the shiny stuff on her skin didn’t look like she was doing anything wrong, but for some odd reason, Eva got the feeling that she was acting like she owned the place. It didn’t make any sense. The church was supposed to belong to the goddess.

“How many of them did you say there were?” asked Four-eyes.

The head priestess wrinkled her brow and shook her head. “There’s a few dozen at least, but no one’s got a good count. Some are saying three, others seven, but there might be even more.”

“That’s alright,” said the book-girl. “If they’re as you’ve described, then they’re most likely ritternaeds. We should be able to take care of them no matter how many there are.”

”Thank the goddess.” Sister Barn’estell placed a hand upon her breast and closed her eyes in a moment of prayer. “And thank you as well. Truly, we can’t thank you enough for accepting such a low paying request.”

It looked like they were mostly done talking, so Eva stuck the rest of her body through the door and squeezed her way inside. “What’s a ritterndnend?”

“Oh, Eva’igne… What did I say about interrupting my meetings?” asked the thirty-year-old kelpfin with a frown.

“I-I’m sorry… I was just really curious.”

“I’m sure you were, but these nice people and I are having an important conversation right now. I’m sure you have some things to ask, but I’d really appreciate it if you could step out and wait until we’re done. I’ll be glad to answer whatever I can after, okay?”

“...Okay.” Eva puffed up her cheeks and lowered her head as she stepped back outside. She hated it. It was all the outsiders’ fault. They were getting her in trouble even though she didn’t do anything wrong. Sister Barn’stell would’ve never turned her away if it was anyone else in there with her.

The part that bugged her the most was that everyone was welcoming them. Some of the other kids were talking about how cool they were, and even her mom and dad had told her to stay out of their way. It wasn’t fair. She knew that they weren’t doing much work. It was already their second day in the village, and none of them had tried to lift a hoe.

Puffing up her cheeks, Eva stomped her way downstairs and flopped down next to the window. Her whole life was gonna suck if things kept going at the rate they were. She was going to stay cooped up forever, and ever, and ever, and they wouldn’t let her go until she was old as Sister Mrn’talir.

“I have to do something…” she muttered, under her breath.

She wasn’t really sure what that something was, but she knew for certain she was going to need to break out first. She really wanted to ask some of the other kids for help, but she realised that they weren’t gonna. The boys were too busy pretending to be knights and heroes, while the girls were baking with Sister Ar’viette. But it wasn’t like it really mattered. They probably weren’t going to listen to her anyway, and even if they did, they would’ve just tattled instead of helping her out.

That was why she chose to work on her master plan in secret. There wasn’t all that much she could do all by herself, but she didn’t have to. She raised her fins to her mouth, took a deep breath, and shouted for one of her bestest friends.

“Chesshie!”

He answered right away. Ch’shire, a fuzzy little thingymabob with a long, hairless tail, pushed open one of the drawers and climbed out into the open. She knew he was super excited. He ran three huge circles around her before running up her fin and climbing up onto her nose. He squeaked loudly and raised a hand to his face. It was a lot like one of the salutes that the knights always made when they came around during the harvest season. Eva had only seen them two times, but she could still remember them both like they were yesterday.

“I need you to help me get out of this crusty old temple!”

Tilting his head, the rat squeaked twice and pointed a finger at the front door.

“That’s not gonna work! Brother Mor’ian is watching over the garden, and he’d catch me the moment I got out!” she cried, “I have to be sneaky, really, really, reeaaaally sneaky!”

Ch’shire raised his ears and spent a moment pondering the problem before clapping his tiny little hands together and leaping off the girl’s hand like an acrobat. A see-through trapeze appeared in the air in front of him, allowing him to do a flip, a twist, and a turn before landing perfectly on the windowsill. After taking a moment to pose, he grabbed the rail and lifted it with all his strength, but to no avail. The glass panel refused to budge, even when Eva climbed onto her chair and helped out as best she could.

“It’s no good, Chesshie. It’s not gonna budge.” She took deep breaths as she gave up and slumped back onto the ground.

Falling back onto its own fuzzy butt, the rat scratched its head and squeaked. As a tiny rodent with a strength stat of two, there was unfortunately not much he could do.

“I think you’re just gonna have to distract Brother Mor’ian for me.” The young kelpfin slowly lifted the rat and placed him atop her snout. “I think he’ll probably get mad and chase you around a bit if you mess with the fields.”

The rat shook its head and squeaked rapidly. As a holy beast blessed by Primrose herself, he could commit no such blasphemy.

“Fine. Then I’m just gonna run for it and tell him that you messed up the fields if he catches me!”

Ch’shire chirped in protest, but his complaint failed to reach its target. The young lass had already dashed halfway across the temple.

“Well… that’s certainly not the outcome I was hoping for,” the rodent spoke aloud as he stood up on his hind legs and pressed a hand to the glass. “I doubt Mor’ian will fall for the fib, but I’d best warn him.” The priest in question was one of the hot-headed types, and there was a chance that he would flare up in anger and completely forget to use his brain.

After checking the girl’s trajectory again, the rat tapped into another one of his clones and sought the man stationed atop the temple’s roof.

“Brother Mor’ian!” He tilted his head when he failed to find the man in question, only to spot a foot propped up on the other side of the roof. It looked like he was napping, which was a bit strange given the zealous fervour he normally worked with, but the rat dismissed the peculiarity and ran over. “Brother Mor’ian! There you ar—” The rat’s face turned pale as he laid eyes on a cold, lifeless corpse.

He almost wanted to write it off as impossible. As the temple’s guardian spirit, Ch’shire was capable of sensing everything that happened within its grounds. He could feel each plant and its precise condition, he could smell every rock used in the building’s construction, and he could receive telepathic messages from the faithful within the temple’s grounds. And yet, he had known nothing about the priest’s sudden demise.

Something was wrong. Eva’igne was in danger.

He shifted his consciousness to another clone and chased after her, but it was no good. Even with an entire magical circus at his disposal, the rat was not fast enough to reach her before she escaped the temple’s grounds. He tried growing out the plants in her path, but she was unimpeded. She leapt over the grass that tried to grab her by the fins, and dodged under the towering trees that stretched their branches towards her.

The rodent swore under his breath. The level of his magic was too low. It was impossible for him to catch a person running at top speed with rudimentary wood spells, even if that person happened to be the tiniest of children.

Still cursing his own incompetence, he shifted to another clone and informed one of the priests about the event before hesitantly stepping outside the temple’s grounds and continuing to give chase. Beyond the goddess’ domain—his domain—his powers were greatly weakened, but he had no other choice. Eva was heading straight towards the forest, and if he failed to pursue her, then there was a good chance that she would be lost.

Following directly in her footsteps, he ran along the path, quickly as he could, whilst squeaking at the top of his lungs. Her face lit up when she realised that he was following. Practically jumping for joy, she sped up, moving along at an even higher speed than before. It was a frustrating development. Had they been closer to town, someone surely would have noticed the chirps and giggles, but the fields right outside the temple were untouched. They were left to grow with no outside influence, so that the villagers could interpret the will of their goddess and cycle their crops accordingly.

The closest farmers were two, maybe three kilometers away, and the forest was in the direction opposite their fields. Everyone had absolute confidence that the church would keep the children safe, and Ch’shire had a duty to see that confidence unbroken.

He jumped onto Eva’s back as soon as he caught up and tugged on her fin, but she did a flip and threw him off. All the trampolines he put in her path were evaded; she treated them like part of a game, not understanding the danger that awaited.

There were signs outside the forest with explicit warnings written upon them, but the illiterate five year old ignored them and bolted straight in. Ch’shire knew that there was no point in warning her. Even if he spoke, he would be treated like another boring grown up and ignored as per her budding rebellious spirit.

“You see, Chesshie?” She grabbed a fruit from a nearby shrub and bit into its blue-green flesh. “There’s nothing wrong with being outside! The grown ups are just being mean for no reason.” She tore off a small piece for the rat, who reluctantly gave in and partook after a bit of prodding. “Now come on! Follow me! I’ll show you my most favouritest spot.”

Ch’shire raised his guard again as soon as he was finished with the snack. He carefully scanned the surroundings, eyes and ears peeled for any sign of danger as the child made her way through the forest.

Her ability to navigate the undergrowth was impressive, even ignoring her age. She moved from landmark to landmark, rarely ever stopping to reorient herself in spite of the recent damage to the forest. The spirit rat could tell that the fallen trees were fresh; some were still alive, screaming that they would soon perish were they not reintroduced to the ground.

After just a few minutes, the pair arrived in a serene meadow, a small clearing in the forest ruled by grasses and flowers. Ch’shire squeaked in horror when he saw the massive beast slumbering in the middle of the field, but the young kelpfin dragged herself over to it and leapt into its fur. It briefly opened one of its eyes when she made contact, but contrary to the rat’s expectations, the most it did was lightly flick the girl with its tail. It was a modest show of annoyance, one that almost distracted the rodent from the half-healed wound scarring the beast’s belly. The fight had to have been recent; the injury had yet to close and the red stain beneath it was still growing, spreading into the grass. Ch’shire tried to investigate further, but a light flick of the tail knocked him away before he could examine it in detail.

When he regained his balance and looked upon the misshapen horse, he found its four eyes upon him. The beast shook its head, coughed once, and then lowered its stance again. A silent warning to keep his nose out of its business.

Perhaps because she was simply inattentive, or perhaps because she had never considered the possibility of its injury, the girl happily climbed its back without seeing the wound. It didn’t quite seem to mind, even when it winced in pain, but Ch’shire soon realised that it was not as idle as it otherwise appeared. Like him, it was on guard, constantly scanning its surroundings, and not in the way that a predator would.

The rat shuddered. The ungulate was a brute of a beast. It was over ten meters tall; the twelve legs that grew from its six humps were each as thick as the trunk of a tree, and the tusks that erupted from its lips were sharp enough to gore a lion.

And yet, even it was wounded. Fearful. Waiting for Xekkur to call it to his side.

The camel snapped to attention right as the rodent gulped down a breath. Following its eyes, Ch’shire found a creature only a few times his own size. It was also a rodent, a guinea pig to be exact, albeit a monstrous variant with a pair of terrifying antlers growing from its rear. They were long and metallic, shaped like bolts of lightning and dripping with blood. Its mouth was gaping open, revealing three lines of jagged teeth with a dozen tongues between them. Together, the appendages emerged from the cavity and formed a prong, a prong around which magic soon began to gather.

Both the rat and the camel reacted right away. They dodged in opposite directions, leaping out of the meadow and into the forest. The foliage, however, did little to stop the beam in its tracks. The raw electricity ripped right through the wood. Tree after tree was torn asunder, filling the woodland with smoke and death.

Ch’shire coughed as he got back to his feet, just in time to witness disaster strike. The other rodent dashed up to the camel’s neck and ripped off its head with its jagged, thunderbolt blades. The child was next. She was caught in a violent explosion of electricity as the smaller beast roared, declaring its victory to the world.

Not missing a beat, it turned towards the rat, its eyes glowing blue with thunder. When it lunged, he assumed himself dead. He could feel the warmth spread from between his legs as it drew closer. And time almost seemed to slow as he raised his tiny limbs as a hopeless, last line of defense. But he was lucky. A metallic flash skewered it before it could rip him apart.

When he looked up at his saviour, he found a short-haired brunette with a pair of cat-like ears. The other sellswords were right behind her, weapons at the ready, but they were unnecessary. The hunter was already dead.

“Damn it! We were too late!” The catgirl tightened her grip on her blade as she cast her eyes on the fallen kelpfin.

A second guinea pig jumped out of the underbrush before the mercenary had a chance to catch her breath, but she eliminated it before it could make contact. Dozens more followed suit. They jumped out of the bushes and charged with their lightning rods pulsing, just to be cut down like wheat during the harvest.

“I thought you said we were here for experience.” The white-haired girl spoke with her eerily cold eyes on the corpses. “These things aren’t worth killing.”

“Do not despair, Claire. Trust in Griselda’s guidance, and you shall receive.” A buxom witch covered in tattoos defeated a particularly large monster with her staff as she reproached her companion.

“Yes, but they’re level thirty. We might as well head back to Skyreach Spire.”

“Their levels surely would have been higher had you believed.”

“That isn’t how that works.”

Another dozen fell while they spoke, perhaps more. Each was defeated with a light whack or an offhanded smack.

“I think I might’ve found one that’s a bit stronger.” The brunette spoke as she stared down a much larger guinea pig. Its general morphology was like the others, only it was two meters tall and covered in a shroud of lightning.

“Probably once ascended at most,” said the girl with the massive ears.

Ch’shire was tempted to assume that the extra large guinea pig would bring an immediate and unfortunate end to the conflict, that not even the intrepid adventurers could defeat a beast so fearsome, but it exploded into a burst of blood before he could even register all of its features. It took him a moment, but observing the after-effects led him to realise that the white-haired girl had moved faster than he could see. From her posture, her freshly stained clothes, and the strange, almost reptilian hammer that had suddenly appeared in her hands, he concluded that she had hit it so hard that it had popped like a balloon.

“Oh. Not bad,” she said, as she wiped the blood off of her face. “That one was level four ten.”

“Do you understand now, Claire? There is no error in the goddess’ guidance.”

“Maybe if there were more of them.”

“Don’t worry!” The fox pranced over to the other girls’ sides. “There’s a whole lot of them nearby. I’m pretty sure there’s a dungeon or something ‘cause there’s way too many for it to be a wild population.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” The silver girl picked up the orange furball and stretched her cheeks far wider than should have been physically possible. “Hurry up. Lead the way.”

“Wait, what about the kid? Shouldn’t we… you know?” said the cat.

“There’s nothing we can do for her. It’s better not to dwell on it.”

“But…” The cat squeezed her fist tight enough for blood to drip from her fingers. “Yeah. You’re right.” She took another breath.

“Besides, they already have a representative. We should just leave them to handle the rites.”

“I concur. A mishandling on our parts could prove more disrespectful to a group so keen on their goddess’ teachings.”

“...Alright.”

As quickly as they came, the adventurers were gone, vanished into the forest without so much as acknowledging his existence. For a while, the rat stared at the spot where they had melded into the greenery, snapping to attention as he recalled that he had not entered the woods alone.

He rushed over to the child’s side, only to collapse when he found her, tears streaming from the corners of his eyes.

It was all his fault.

It should have been him.

But because he had failed to act, to fulfill his role as the temple’s guardian spirit, another one of Primrose’s faithful would have to be returned to the soil.