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[Omen of the Witchblade] Chapter 90 — Stars Above
🕑 Added 2025-01-16 14:00:08 +0000 UTCMel didn’t know how to respond to that. “What do you mean? Why would I leave any of you?”
“I’m just making sure everyone knows this doesn’t have to be temporary,” Gwen said.
“I’m riding Mel’s coattails to the top,” Heath admitted. “She’s going to need somebody to beat off all her admirers.”
Mel looked at him. “Come on, man!”
Heath smiled innocently and shook his head. “I don’t hear it.”
“He really needs to see Charlie or…I don’t know, Camilla,” Gwen remarked. “Wait, weren’t you with Camilla?”
“They said I needed rest,” Heath offered. “She healed me though. I was running for days without sleep. You wouldn’t think a group of cannibals would chase you very far, on account of how easy it would be just to eat each other, but you’d be wrong.”
Mel held up the [Leaden Pearl]. She showed Heath. “You got one of these, right?”
[Leaden Pearl]
(Catalyst, Pearl)
(Rare)
Over the Ages, impurities in ambient mana precipitate into solid motes, growing in size and power until they become pearls. Even the smallest of seeds yearn to be something great one day.
Imprint: Mix into an ampoule to create a new concoction. Hardens skin. Vastly increases weight, vigor, and defense, while reducing movement speed and agility.
Heath rooted around in his pockets and pulled one out. “Yep. Is that what you need an ampoule for?”
“Precisely,” Mel said. “If you’re getting pearls, the system has to give you a [Cinder Ampoule] eventually. It doesn’t make any sense not to.”
“I do have some quests I haven’t looked at yet,” Heath said. He looked nervously at them. “You’re not going to make fun of me for reading them, are you?”
As much as Mel wanted to say, ‘no’ she felt that it would be too big a commitment. “Why do you ask?”
“I’ve been told by a certain shrub that I ‘do weird things with my face’ when I look at the system text.”
“Shardscript,” Mel corrected.
“Yes, that.”
Poor guy has been through a lot, Mel thought. No wonder he ran straight for me when I used the coin. He didn’t have anybody else who welcomed him. Well, except for the other Magi. And we’re fond of welcoming misfits like us. People who don’t fit into normal society.
“All right,” Mel said, knowing she was going to regret it. “I won’t make fun of you.”
Thomas cleared his throat and turned around so he wasn’t looking at Heath’s face.
Mel stared, transfixed. “I…can’t…look…away.”
Heath was contorting his face this way and that. It went far beyond mouthing the words. It was like he was trying to taste the glowing script. Sometimes he smacked his lips, grunted, and then chewed on a corner of his lip.
I need a pillow to scream into, Mel thought, biting her lip so hard she tasted blood. I said I wouldn’t make fun of him. I said it. I did this to me. I have no mouth and I must scream.
“Well, today’s a bad day to have eyeballs,” Gwen said miserably. “I need to look at something else that isn’t so…” She made a vague motion and turned away.
“Ignorance is bliss,” Thomas said, going over his loot. “Huh.”
“What?” Mel said, grabbing onto anything that would relieve her from this personal hell. She got up and sat next to him, eager to put Heath and his weird facial animations at her back.
“The last plateau beast was agile and strong,” Thomas explained. “This one was slow and sturdy. Each time we received rewards tied to what they were. A [Wind Ember] and a [Blitz Pearl] for the tarikan, and a [Stone Ember] and [Leaden Pearl] for the gorlash.”
Mel took out the [Stone Ember] and looked at it. “Your point?”
[Stone Ember]
(Catalyst, Ember)
(Rare)
A chunk of dense, heavy stone with glowing veins of amber. Place within a soul kiln to apply affinity to armaments or tinge to concoctions.
Imprint: Applies Stone affinity to armaments. Applies Stone tinge to concoctions.
Mel tossed it up and down in her palm as she listened to Thomas.
“With your ability to detect plateau beasts, could you determine their alignments ahead of time?”
Now she understood where he was going. “I don’t think so. It upgraded again, but it only lets me know the strength of the creature.” She pointed to the west. “There’s an Iron plateau beast over there, for example. No idea if it’s fire, wind, or even cotton candy aspect though.”
“Damn. I was hoping…well, I guess it doesn’t matter.”
“Are you looking for something specific?” Mel asked.
“Thunder or lightning, preferably,” Thomas said. “I’d even be happy with fire. As we transition into the final days, I think it would be a good idea to have brews on hand to help us fight.”
Mel looked at him thoughtfully. “You’re thinking about the assassins.”
Thomas looked up at the cloudy sky. The sun was beginning to set, painting tarnished rays of gold across the underside of the clouds. “The higher our rating gets, the more we become targets ourselves. Eventually, we’ll have to spend all our time defending or running.” He looked sharply at Mel. “And I don’t intend on running.”
“Neither do I.” Mel put the ember away. “The problem is, if we come across a plateau beast that doesn’t have what we want, we can’t just turn around and find another. It takes at least a day or more to zero in on its location, and even then, going in blind seems like a bad idea. And that’s assuming we’re right about how their loot works.”
Thomas smiled gently at something. Mel glanced over. Gwen was sleeping with the greathammer again.
“You really should just tell her how you feel, man,” Mel said, nudging him gently in the ribs.
Thomas chewed on his lower lip. “Maybe after,” he said. Mel had never heard him so unsure. “There are a lot of things to figure out before we can cross that bridge.”
“Doesn’t seem that complex to me.”
He barked a bitter laugh. “Things are never as simple as they appear. When dealing with Magi, that’s more true than anywhere else. We can’t even be sure that you’re–”
Gwen grumbled and shifted in her sleep, her brow breaking out in a sweat. Thomas slipped off the rock he was sitting on and went to her side. “Her nightmares have been getting worse,” he said, shoulders hunching.
Mel couldn’t shake the feeling that he blamed her somehow. Everything about his posture told her that he was struggling to hold something back.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, but apparently not softly enough.
Some of the tension bled out of Thomas’ shoulders. “It’s not your fault.” He sighed. “How could it be when you don’t even remember us? That’s the rub, isn’t it? Even if you wanted to, you can’t help. You don’t know how.”
Mel pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. “I could try.” Hush slithered over. His twin tails rattled as he affectionately curled around Mel’s arm and laid his head on the back of her forearm.
His ruby red eyes peered wondrously up at her, his little tongue flicking in and out.
Thomas shook his head.
There was a finality to his posture that told her in no uncertain terms that the conversation was over. She looked at Hush and petted his little head.
He didn’t sink into her skin like usual. The small, two-tailed ashfang stayed with her as she slipped into her sleeping bag.
Heath came over to check on her once or twice, but Mel kept her eyes shut the entire time. Long after everybody else had fallen asleep, Mel stayed awake, unable to drift off.
Even Hush had fallen asleep wrapped gently around her forearm in a loving embrace.
Mel got up and stared at the night sky peeking out through the shredded clouds above. All the little things that she had ignored up until now were bubbling right under the surface.
The clouds scudded awkwardly across the sky in great sweeping bands. Mel watched them for a long while, trying to sort out her own feelings on…well, everything.
She usually avoided moments of self-reflection for this very reason. It blunted her edge. At a time when she needed to be anything but reflective, Mel suddenly found herself turning inward instead of outward.
Her goals and desires were always aimed at keeping her moving. Always keep one foot in front of the other. Bad things happened all the time. By always taking another stride forward, she made sure that they would be behind her sooner rather than later.
Even before Sabrina, Nathan, Maddie, Bernard, and Shane, Mel had held the hands of friends and family on their deathbed. Many of them were younger than she was now.
So why did it seem different this time?
Why did it feel like there was something intrinsically wrong with simply existing?
It was more than the sad, soulful look Gwen gave her at times. More than the glowering pain that Thomas hid behind his golden gaze. If the pair of them knew more than they were letting on, they weren’t going to tell her just because she asked nicely.
Something had happened with the spell that brought them all here. That much was clear.
The problem was, she had no idea what happened. No Magi, not even thirteen, should have been able to uplift not just one, but two Worldshards. That should have been beyond them.
Item one: find out how the spell was supposed to work, ideally with the original script. Item two: find out how the spell went awry, barring that, find out what happened when it did. Item three: well…I don’t know what the hell comes next after that. I’ll figure it out as I go.
One thing was abundantly evident. The spell hadn’t gone as planned, and the resulting fallout kept the Magi away from each other. You didn’t gather 13 Magi together and then all go your separate ways. No matter what Thomas said.
There was no way that 13 Magi would join together in the first place if there wasn’t a strong bond between them. Which made it even stranger that they were splintered so readily.
Almost as if they didn’t want to see each other again.
Mel couldn’t detect any open hostility when either Thomas or Gwen spoke about the other Magi. Heath didn’t mention anything strange about Jacob or Camilla–two people Mel had heard of before, but certainly not as Magi.
Jacob and Camilla were from Lormar, Mel remembered. And Lormar was also uplifted to this new reality…which doesn’t make sense. Lormar was a Darkshard. They don’t get uplifted.
Unless it was healed somehow.
Hal was embarking on a similar mission on Aldim. It wasn’t entirely unreasonable that somebody could reverse a Darkshard, but it would take a singularly powerful individual. Most Magi wouldn’t be able to handle it. It would require a student of Stowhr at least.
Mel pulled her knees tighter to her chest and rocked back and forth, watching the clouds whip across the heavens. Her thoughts bounced from Aldim to Brookmoors and back again.
She didn’t know how she came here. It made no sense. She should still be on Aldim as the gold elf, Mira.
Almost as concerning, the Magi shouldn’t have split up. If it was a competition, everybody stood to gain more if all 13 stuck together. Even if there was some level of animosity–practically a given with a large enough group of Magi–they would have better odds in a group.
Mel chewed her lip and watched the sky, studying the stars and the clouds as she mulled over her options.
That was why she was one of the only people in the trial to see the faint sparkle of light. It appeared for just a fraction of a second, but it was unmistakable.
Something had been bothering her about the way the clouds were moving. Even as her mind was a million miles away in another reality trying to piece things together, Mel’s eyes studied the sky for the source of the wrongness.
She was looking right at the exact spot where the flash of light created a tiny rip in the sky.
It was a rift, but more importantly, she recognized it as something else. Something that shouldn’t exist.
A manastorm.
