M.S. Davidson
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48. Have you Met Ted?
🕑 Added 2025-09-09 16:00:06 +0000 UTCMy eyes shot open as I jolted upright in the tub, heart hammering against my ribs like a caged animal. Arryava stood silhouetted against the balcony, her eyes wide with shock. The air rippled around me like heat waves, though I felt no warmth—just raw, overwhelming power.
For the first time, I had crystal-clear memories of being inside my soul. Not the usual dreamlike fragments, but something tangible and real. Ted, my spirit guide, had shown me my soul space—and unlike those hazy previous visits, every detail was sharp as if I had just experienced it all.
I looked down, watching my mana pathways vibrate with barely contained energy. Valor pulsed where Bravery usually sat, flooding me with sensations so intense they made my head spin. I could even sense the thousands of Sentarians in the city below, their presence sharp and distinct, like shadows I could almost touch.
"Ben Crawford, what are—" Arryava began, but white-hot pain lanced through my ear like a heated knife.
I gasped, hand flying to my earring. The moment my fingers made contact, my skin sizzled, electricity tearing up my arm in molten threads.
I recoiled hard, slamming against the tub's edge. My vision exploded with stars as my head cracked against the metal. Through the dull ringing came something else—a deeper awareness, more profound than pain.
Closing my eyes, I reached inward and found it instantly: a vast golden hall lined with shelves stretched before me—my mana sanctum. Usually just a vague impression, but now... My thoughts stumbled as my mind's eye and physical vision fought for control. The burning in my ear intensified, becoming liquid fire through my nerves.
Then I saw him—me—standing in the sanctum, wearing forest green robes and my signature grin. Vertigo hit like a sledgehammer as I existed in two places at once, reality spinning around me like a broken carousel.
He extended a black staff, an Orichalcum orb gleaming at its end.
Winchester.
The moment I grasped the staff, the tub shuddered violently. High-pitched ringing cut through the air like a blade. The other me stepped back into darkness, and the burning in my ear subsided—but I could feel Winchester being pulled away, slipping through my mental grasp as if something actively fought my hold on it.
It reminded me of being stuck in that portal, but weaker. Like something—my soul—had brought it most of the way here, and now I was struggling to finish the job.
Gritting my teeth, I doubled down, gripping the staff with both hands in the strange, instinctive way needed to extract something from the earring. The tub's groaning resonance built to a piercing crescendo that made my bones vibrate.
Then, with one final violent lurch, the energy snapped free.
Orange and purple energy exploded outward in a devastating shockwave. Before I could process what had happened, I was thrown from the tub, hitting the floor hard as thick nectar spilled around me like honey from a broken hive. The tub itself melted away into a spreading pool of orange mercury, leaving me gasping with Winchester clutched in my trembling hands.
Two dozen Sentarians burst through the door, expressions split between concern and barely contained hostility. They surrounded me before I could move, and as I coughed up sweet nectar, someone shoved me back down. Attendants rushed to Arryava's side.
"CEASE!"
The word rumbled from her throat in a voice that bypassed my ears and went straight to my soul. My entire body strained with compliance, heart skipping beats as the Sentarians around me froze like statues. My eyes locked with hers, and I saw something ancient and powerful looking back.
She approached slowly, mandibles spread wide, eyes reflecting pure astonishment. As she reached for Winchester's orb, the staff hummed against my palms. The moment she got close, her hand jerked back like she'd touched a live wire.
Her feline-like eyes snapped to mine.
"How... how do you have this, Ben Crawford? It feels like..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "A Vajra."
All playfulness had drained from her voice, replaced by something that might have been fear or reverence.
As her command's pressure eased, I pushed myself up, trying to smooth my nectar-soaked clothes while my mind raced for an explanation. I felt dizzy and overstimulated, like I'd been hit by lightning and somehow survived.
"The spirit realm," I said carefully, still piecing it together. "The one you said was like your home. It was there, but I lost it coming to Ark—I knew I didn't let go of it. I think my Seal helped me get it the rest of the way."
Arryava straightened, and every Sentarian in the room mirrored her movement. All but her bowed deeply, hands pressed over their navels like they were in the presence of royalty.
"The stories of the Vajra carry truth. And this humble one recognizes its hand," she spoke in Eloquentia, the words flowing like an ancient prayer. Then she offered me a slight bow.
My brain stuttered. "What is happening? Vajra?"
With a gesture, she dismissed the guards. Several carefully lifted away the rug now soaked with liquid Orichalcum, their movements reverent.
"I'm sorry about the tub," I said absently. "This is the second time something like this has happened."
One of her eyes widened, and I swear she raised an eyebrow at me, though she didn’t have any.
"I am thinking our earlier theory may have had more merit than we thought." Arryava moved toward the plush seats, her voice gentler now. "I must know more, and thus will bind my karma to you, Ben Crawford. Please sit. Mind your first step."
Her karma? I went to take a step and paused, realizing I hadn't consciously moved my leg. It just... moved. Like my body was being supported entirely by mana, floating just above the ground.
It was a really fucking weird feeling.
My next step didn't go nearly as well. Springing forward like a released spring, my leg made me catch myself with Winchester against the floor, though I quickly realized I didn’t need the support. My body felt weightless, powerful.
Arryava's eyes met mine, and she giggled softly.
What the fuck was happening?
Valor had anchored itself in Bravery's place, and though it wasn't actively drawing mana, its massive field of awareness pressed against my consciousness in layers. I pulled at the edges, trying to contain it like I did with Bravery, but instead of shrinking, it grew denser, more concentrated.
I sensed Arryava watching me, shifting slightly as my perception washed over her like gentle waves.
"It seems your spiritual presence has increased rather substantially," she said, tilting her head as if testing the sensation. Then she giggled again. "I feel safe."
She wasn't kidding. Valor oozed it—like being wrapped in a security blanket made of pure 'this guy protects his friends' energy.
I made my way carefully to a seat across from Arryava, who watched me with what I figured was an amused smile. Winchester settled across my lap as I sank down, trying to organize the flood of questions threatening to drown my brain.
"Thank you," I started. "I was terrified of the stories about forming a Seal—the cost, the potential failure, all the danger. But I feel... great. Like, punch-through-walls great. Though I have more questions than I think I can put into words."
Arryava laughed, the sound like silver bells. "I'd prefer if you didn't punch walls in my reading room, though I was considering remodeling a parlor. Perhaps we can test your theory."
She caught my unamused look and continued with obvious mirth.
"Did you know most on Ark spend days searching for even a glimpse of their soul to accomplish what you did in hours? I thought you'd need my guidance, but when I reached out to your mind, you were already gone." She studied me with open fascination. "I have seen many things in my life, Ben Crawford. But your soul must be spectacular to carry a Vajra across the veil."
I let out a slow breath. Twenty minutes ago, I would have said she was crazy. But now? "Okay, let's start with the Vajra."
She inclined her head. "There are many myths about them, Ben Crawford. Some say they were forged by the Gods before their death; others claim they are spiritual manifestations of will, formed by powerful Runebinders of a past age. Some even believe they are simply eternal forces of nature."
Her expression grew serious. "But what we know for certain is that they are legendary instruments, nearly impossible to destroy. And I am confident there are few on Ark who know of their existence at all."
I gaped at her. "I... found it hanging under a bar. Like the guy who owned the place had used it to protect the building."
The news didn't hit Arryava the way I'd expected. Her eyes squinted in thought.
"If you were in a reflection of our home, it must be a powerful item indeed. To think that even the reflection of this Vajra was strong enough to cross the veil..." She shook her head in wonder. "Do you know anything about it?"
She was asking me?
I studied Winchester, running my hand along the orb at its end. The staff hummed softly but offered nothing more than warm vibrations.
"When I first found it, I used it as a weapon briefly. It seemed powerful—at least for one hit—but after that, it was mostly just a quarterstaff." I remembered the fight with the Glids, how it had felt like wielding bottled lightning.
"Legendary doesn't mean powerful," Arryava mused. "I can only imagine what purpose this Vajra was designed for. Perhaps it was never meant to be a weapon at all."
I opened my mouth to ask another question when my stomach let out a savage growl—hunger hitting me like a physical blow. I'd completely forgotten about missing dinner and breakfast.
Without thinking, I reached for my earring to grab a snack, but pain shot through my ear, sharp and sudden.
Wincing, I reached up again. The earring's surface felt rough, nothing like its usual smooth finish. I pulled gently, and it came loose with barely any resistance.
"Oh, shit." I stared at the cracked gem in my palm, its faint purple energy completely gone. "There goes all my money and food..."
Arryava gestured toward the door. Two Sentarians entered carrying plates laden with food, followed closely by a familiar ball of red fur that bounded into the room like he owned the place.
"Of course you found the food. How did you even get here?" I said, eyeing Red with suspicion.
"I had expected the process to take all day, so we had food prepared," Arryava said, rising gracefully. "As for your mana sanctum, it seems your Vajra somehow used it to manifest here. That is fascinating, but like the staff, a mana sanctum cannot be so easily destroyed."
She nodded at the earring. "I will have Narrin examine it for you. If there is anything he can do to assist, he will."
That eased some of my panic, but even without the earring, I could almost feel that weird space still existing. Like a residual after-image burned into my consciousness.
The Sentarians bowed as they set down the food, lifting ornate cloches to reveal sandwiches—the most beautiful sight I'd seen all day.
Red bounded over, tail whipping back and forth as he investigated Winchester before deciding I was more interesting. He lunged, attacking the sticky, drained nectar coating my arms and face with enthusiastic tongue swipes.
"Ah, c'mon, man!" I shoved him away, laughing despite everything.
Red took the scolding as his cue, trotting around the room with exaggerated innocence—then made a dash for the sandwiches.
I exploded from my seat, moving far faster than intended, and reached the plates before Red could strike. I spun to face him, plates balanced in one hand, Winchester in the other, ready to defend my lunch from the furry menace.
"Ha! What now?" I taunted, narrowing my eyes at the would-be food thief.
Red sat down, panting lightly, head tilted as if genuinely considering the tactical situation. Then his gaze flicked to Arryava, and he let out one of his signature honks.
"Be at ease, wandering one," she said, amusement threading through her voice. "Your friend here has formed his Seal and will need help to find his limits."
Red turned back to me with the most mischievous side-eye I'd ever seen him use. I knew what was coming before he moved.
"No, Red—"
His fur rippled with red energy, and he launched himself at me with impossible speed.
Plates crashed around us, sandwiches taking flight in all directions as Winchester rolled away. Red renewed his assault on my face, tongue-first and absolutely relentless.
"He seems thrilled with the news," Arryava observed, completely unfazed by the chaos.
I tried prying him off, but my struggles only encouraged him. He bounded around the room before snatching up several surviving sandwiches, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
"Ugh," I groaned, spitting out dog slobber and realizing my wash-kit was still in the broken earring. I salvaged a slightly squashed meat and cheese sandwich and stuffed it into my mouth.
As I chewed, I searched for Winchester. My stomach dropped—it was gone. Heart pounding, I scanned the room frantically. After everything that had happened, had I just lost it?
But then came a buzzing sound, too loud in my ears.
My perception twisted sideways. I was still holding Winchester—without physically holding it. That same inverted, split-awareness feeling from my earring vision hit again. I blinked, processing two separate inputs simultaneously. Two locations at once—here in Arryava's room, and in my soul-space, where I gripped Winchester while Ted stood across from me, grinning like a maniac.
"Holy shit, kid," he said, clearly loving whatever this was. "This is wild. Hang on."
Something smacked my chest. My vision snapped back to the physical world, but my mind stayed partly in the other space. The dual awareness made my head spin with impossible possibilities.
"I... don't know where Winchester went," I said, my voice oddly layered, echoing between both realities.
Arryava tilted her head. "It is in your hands, Ben Crawford, though I'm not sure how it got there."
I looked down. The black staff sat in my left hand, exactly where it had been. With a thought, it vanished into my soul-space. Another thought brought it back to my physical hand.
Ted's cackling echoed in my ears like a lunatic at a carnival. "Oh, this is fuckin' sweet!"
Arryava's expression was unreadable, her head tilting further sideways than I'd ever seen. I glanced at Red for some kind of reaction, but he was too busy licking cheese off the floor to be any help.
"What is happening?" My voice echoed, reverberating in a way that made my skin crawl.
Arryava said something, but Ted had my full attention.
"Give it a minute, kid, sheesh," he said. "Your little stick just pierced the veil between your body and soul. Good thing you got ol' Ted to sort this out. You're gonna love this."
"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice splitting between both realities again.
"Who are you talking to?" Arryava asked, concern creeping into her voice.
My perception started snapping back to normal, the sense of my other self fading rapidly. Arryava watched me with growing alarm.
"Are you alright? If something went wrong during the Seal formation..."
I shook my head. "No, sorry—there's a lot going on. Give me a minute."
She nodded, but her posture remained tense, ready to intervene if I started having a breakdown of some kind.
Using Winchester, I pushed myself up, leaning on it for support—though I didn't really need to. The staff hummed, its melodic resonance filling the air as the orb glowed with gentle blue fire.
Then a voice rang out—not from my soul-space, but from right behind me.
"Stop leanin' on the goddamn staff. I said ya ain't cool enough to be Gandalf."
I spun around to find Ted—physically present—munching on a cobbled-together sandwich while casually feeding a crust to Red, whose wagging tail threatened to knock over furniture.
My eyes went wide, but Arryava moved faster than thought.
"Who the fuck are you?" she snarled, crossing the room in a blink and lifting him clean off the ground by his shoulders. Her tone had shifted completely to lethal business.
"Whoa, hey—it's the insect lady! Cool your jets, I'm Ted, nice to meet ya." He waved the sandwich like it was a peace offering.
She looked from Ted to Winchester, then to me, then back to Ted. Her mandibles twitched with what might have been recognition.
"You are made of pure mana..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Are you... a Luohan? A Guardian Spirit from the Vajra?"
Her tone carried something close to reverence.
"Oh yeah, sure. Somethin' like that," Ted's obvious lie sailed right past her. "Hey, can ya put me down? I can't keep this up forever."
She set him down gently and bowed deeply, switching to Eloquentia. "Amituofo, this one is humbled to be in your presence."
Ted patted her head and shot me a look that screamed: What the fuck did she just say?
He strutted over to Red, who was sitting and dusting the floor with his rapid tail wags.
"How the—" I started, poking him with Winchester's end. He swatted it away with annoyance.
"Shut up, I'm petting the puppy," he said, practically hugging Red, who tolerated it like the saint he was. "So soft."
"Ted, what the... how are you... this is fucked up." I stared in complete disbelief.
Ted turned to me, stroking his chin like some ancient sage, then spoke in a terrible accent. "Hmm... A man who fights the wind will never win, but at least he gets his reps in..."
“Did you make that rhyme on purpose? How did you get here?” I demanded.
"Cool, right? As your... ahem... Guardian Spirit, I get to use some of your mana to show up and eat your food, maybe even pet your dog. Point is, we get to hang out." He winked at me before vanishing in a cascade of multicolored dust that sparkled and faded away.
"A man who fights the wind..." Arryava mused as she straightened, then turned to me, bowing deeply. "Allow me to apologize, Revered One. To think that you hold a Vajra and a Guardian Spirit... If only I could do more to repay this karma."
She crossed to a small chest of drawers, retrieved a lacquered box, and presented it to me with ceremonial reverence.
"To hear the words of an ancient spirit from our lost home. With this, I can only hope that Karma will be balanced."
She slid the box open to reveal a delicate silver necklace with a small crimson stone about the size of my thumbnail. The gem pulsed with inner fire, beautiful and somehow alive.
"The Emberseed. Though we have little from our past, we have a flower that can create these. The Collective cannot intervene in this Grand Tournament, but should you find yourself elsewhere, the Emberseed will mark you as a friend to many who call the Collective friend."
I took the box, staring at the necklace, suddenly feeling like I didn't deserve whatever this was. But it would be extremely helpful if I didn't place well in the tournament. I'd just met Arryava, and she'd already helped me as much as Diana or anyone else I'd called an ally on Ark.
"I also hope you would call Mo-Lei your home. We will have a house made for you to stay in should this tournament end in your favor."
As she slipped the chain around my neck, I gaped at her; the stone settled heavier than expected against my chest. When I touched it, I was surprised to feel it generating mana—not a lot, like a small trickle from a tap not fully closed, but I had a feeling it was an incredibly valuable treasure.
Arryava smiled. "It should help speed up your pathway development and save you from a scorched soul if you use too much mana, though it's not infallible."
"Arryava, you've helped me so much—this has to be worth a fortune," I said, overwhelmed by her generosity. "I can't take this."
"It is all I can do to help balance an unbelievable amount of karma levied against me," she said with a curt bow.
Ted's voice boomed in my head like a sports announcer: "Booyah, bitch! I Spirit Guardian'd the fuck out of her. Also, I can talk to you now. Wait, you know I'm not actually a Spirit Guardian, right? Those guys are the worst."
"Unbelievable is right..." I muttered, touching the Emberseed as reality continued to reshape itself around me.
