Amanaris

***

Storm Locust Elemental Ability Score increased: 332 -> 351

Ranvir prodded the gunk at the bottom of the pot. It was sticky enough that a portion tore off as he withdrew his finger. “Oh,” he muttered, staring at it uncomfortably. The muck had a slightly wet texture, like over-hydrated dough, and it was a deeply brown bordering on black. Just seeing it filled Ranvir with a quivering mass of gray trepidation.

“I’m sorry,” Amalia said, trying not to laugh as she clapped him on the shoulder. “But it’s funny though.”

Ranvir glared at her from the corner of his eyes before hesitantly sticking his finger in his mouth. The mass was bitter and horrible. Instead of swallowing, it simply mashed against the roof of his mouth, spreading and gluing to it. It took a concerted effort to even swallow that tiny bit.

Ranvir had to turn away from the others as he struggled not to empty his stomach onto the stones. “That’s horrifying.”

“You- you-“ Amalia held up a hand, the other supporting her weight against her knee as she doubled over from laughing. “You were the one telling us to make it.”

“I didn’t tell you to make this,” Ranvir groused. A red haze rose from his neck.

“He will not take credit for my idea,” Latresekt informed them curtly before retreating once more.

Even Alexis was smiling, a marked change from her usual fearful silence. Despite how scary the experience was, Ranvir suspected leaving the cave and having something to do had been good for the girl. She seemed far less withdrawn now that she’d actually seen what it was like to not withdraw. Surprising.

On the other hand, her good mood could also be explained by what Ranvir’d been detecting over the last hour. The fold was weakening, growing less stable. He was getting glimpses of the situation outside. He couldn’t make anything out clearly, but he saw enough to realize they didn’t realize how worn the seal was. Both Ranvir and Amalia agreed the seal had less than two hours left, less if the fold continued deteriorating.

Honestly, that shouldn’t have been surprising. Looking outside cavernous lean to, Ranvir could barely see anything but the light from their fire reflecting off the horizontal rain blasting past. The sky was dark and swollen, rain whipped the stone hard enough that the words the wind didn’t steal were bludgeoned to death by the water.

“It’s about time to start moving,” Amalia said solemnly. A quiet air filled the cavern as all three of them turned to look out the cave.

“The nightmare’s almost over,” Alexis muttered.

“But not quite yet,” Amalia said, nodding to the younger girl.

Ranvir sighed and looked around the room. The cavern was created by two growths of fyla stone. One less stable than the other, which caused it to fall against its compatriot. They’d grown close in the years since, closing off the rear of the space from the elements. Ranvir was again taken aback by how plant-like fyla growth seemed to him.

Originally, they would’ve never considered using this place as a hideout. It was too exposed and accessible. Anyone passing by could’ve looked right in through the mouth of the cavern. Except, no one was looking for them anymore. Mercy’s Redoubt was fully contained within their camp now, showing no signs of moving.

Ranvir couldn’t tell if he should feel happy they’d managed to trap them, or sad that he’d driven other people to cage themselves like this. Perhaps neither was the right emotion. Maybe no emotions should be attached to the act, only awareness that it was needed to survive.

Despite the injuries, the pain, and the fear, Ranvir somehow felt invigorated by the entire experience. It had barely been a week, a week Ranvir would’ve rather spent with Frija or anyone else really, even Pashar for all that she even mattered anymore. But he’d been caught with his pants down, unprepared and in grave danger. Yet, he hadn’t needed to rely on someone else to come save him. He hadn’t been forced to flee in a desperate hope to survive.

He’d fought. Ranvir’d fought on his own merit. And he hadn’t lost. Somehow, at the end of this experience, Ranvir had lost some fights, drawn other, and perhaps even won some, but he hadn’t lost the war. And he wouldn’t. Not now. Not with everything coming to an end. He just had to see this last bit through.

He turned back to the pit and pot. Firewood still glowed orange where they’d boiled the water off. He’d finally gotten to use some of the wood he’d brought along for the trip. Wood didn’t burn so well when you were in an enclosed cavern without airways. It perhaps burned even worse, if the tunnels would carry the smoke into nice long trails for the scouts to find. But tonight, who was going to find the smoke trails hidden in the storm?

Opening his pocket-space, Ranvir drew out a flask of water, then picked up the pot. He tore a sticky lump of the thólos gunk free, wincing at the sensation, scent, and memory of the taste all at once. With his flask squeezed under one arm, the same hand filled with gunk, he dropped the pot into the pocket.

“I need to eat all of this?” Ranvir asked, deliberately hesitating.

“Yes,” Latresekt replied, not bothering to manifest.

Does he do that just so I’ll look a little more like I’m talking to myself? Ranvir wondered, before with a quick motion stuffing the sludge in his mouth and swallowing. He got a lot down on that first attempt, before the taste even registered. However, much of the sedative binding agent squished out from his tongue, sticking to his gums and between his teeth.

Slugging back a mouthful of water, Ranvir swished his mouth as he tried not to recoil from the taste. A three more mouthfuls, he’d gotten enough down that it was locking him to the motion anymore.

“That is strong,” he muttered. He couldn’t tell if he was imagining the sedative effect already kicking in, or if it actually was beginning. It had to be imaginary, right?

He made a face as he checked the pot for the rest of the stuff. He’d brought back about a head and half’s worth of mushrooms, Amalia about twice as much. Alexis had then boiled it down, strain it with the remains for another boil, before combining all the runoff and reducing that. What was left a clump about the size of both Ranvir’s closed hands put together. That had to be enough sedative to actually knock out a crussor, if needed.

He made a face and made a disgusted noise, before glancing at the women. “You guys are so lucky.”

Amalia snorted a laugh, and Alexis even ventured to give him a smile.

“You’re lucky that you have a rare esoteric mana-type, a talent for numbers, skill with bartering, impossibly long patience, and goodwill that stretches to the sun and back, because your cooking won’t win any hearts.”

Alexis cocked her head, unsure if she should be pleased or insulted.

“Ha!” Amalia exclaimed. “You’re one to talk! I’ve tasted your cooking. Alexis might not take any awards, but it won’t leave the cooks running!”

Ranvir smiled and shook his head at her. Then they both looked at the storm at the same time. “Let’s go, then.”

The wind struck them like a physical blow, Alexis shrouded by Ranvir’s form slightly. Immediately, they were soaked to the bone, the chill rain cutting through their clothes in moments. A shiver passed through Ranvir as he fought off the cold. His hair immediately blew free from the hair tie he’d used, blowing sideways in the wind. He could see Amalia’s hair pulling itself loose, the braid that had survived almost the entire week in the fold finally giving up.

Ranvir noticed Alexis looking as he pulled stray hairs from his face. She idly ran a hand through her own hair. Hers was cut short to sell her disguise as a boy. She grinned slightly as she saw him pull more hairs out of his face, only for them to immediately return. He simply shook his head as if he knew better and nodded to Amalia.

She grabbed Alexis’ hand and led her away into the storm, close to the camp and the seal. Ready for when it fell. Ranvir instead turned more directly towards the camp.

Sabas glared into the storm. It whipped at him, trying to drive him inside the tents, but he didn’t budge. This was exactly what he needed. Opposition, an enemy clear and easy to defy.

Though it tried to freeze him, he didn’t shudder. Though it tried to blow him away, he didn’t stagger. Though it tried to bow his neck, he didn’t bend. And there it was again. A flicker of something that didn’t fit the rest of the storm.

Light reflecting off a droplet weird. At least, that’s what he’d first assumed. But then he’d seen it again, and again. A flicker of the light catching on a wing, sending it to his eyes. In the storm, other people wouldn’t have been able to see it, squinting to even keep their eyes open.

But Captain Sabas of Mercy’s Redoubt was Tier 15. This storm, unnaturally strong as it may be, couldn’t affect him. He had more points in his secondary stats than his people had in their main stat. His Physique: Toughness weathered the weather unweathered.

The barracks tent flap opened and Mihail staggered into the storm, lifting an arm to protect his eyes. Sabas could see the men stationed, pushing each internal spike to keep the canvas from blowing away with all their resources.

“Sir!” Mihail yelled. “What are you doing out here?”

“He’s watching!” Sabas yelled back, nodding to another flicker of yellow that quickly faded into the storm’s background.

Mihail paused, looking around. His Perception stat allowed him to quickly spot what Sabas was talking about, though the rain took its toll.

“You’re going to stay out here?” The tracker finally asked.

Sabas nodded. “I am.”

Mihail looked at him for a long moment, before leaning in and pressing his forehead to Sabas’. “Be careful.”

“I will,” Sabas said, restraining his first urge to reprimand Mihail for breaking protocol during active duty. Instead, he kissed him chastely and pushed him back towards the tents. “I will.”