CHAPTER 51: Experiment 1

“You, on the right!” Eyve shouted, pointing into another open cell crammed to the brim with miscreant shayd. “Come on, get your rear in gear!” After the volunteer was collectively shoved outwards by her cellmates and grabbed by the arm by Eyve, she wasted no time bringing her up to the main floor of the laboratory. Eyve brought the ne'er do well to a room adjacent to the main work floor, past the now-empty cage. As Eyve, now joined by Ven, shoved the subject into the room, she saw that it lay completely barren, save for a small setup consisting of a metallic sphere connected to the ceiling with a thick wire, a metal plate… And a dented bucket filled with water. Ven threw a small remote control into the room and deadlocked the door behind the Shayd.

“Wait!” The shayd begged, pounding on the glass. “You told me I’d get to see a lawyer! Let me out!” Ven administered a shock to the room via her mechanical hand and spoke through an intercom mounted to the wall next to the door. 

“Do what we ask. Do you see a small device on the ground?”

“Yes?”

“Alright, make a note of where it is. Do not touch it. Do you see the bucket in the center of the room?”

“Yes. What are you doing?”

“I want you to place the metal cage into the bucket, and cover its top with the plate beside it. Do you understand?”

“Sure, I—I guess.” As the subject grabbed the cage and prepared to place it into the bucket, she managed to get a good look at what was inside it— a glittering cluster of blue and purple gems.

“What is this thing?” She asked, stalling.

“Place the cage into the bucket. Cover its top. Await further instructions.” Ven repeated in a frustrated tone.

Cautiously, the shayd did as was requested, the mixture bubbling beneath the plate to once again form the monstrosity from before. The process, however, was much slower than the last time it had formed.

“The cage must be dampening its formative capabilities,” Eyve observed

“We’ll fix that.” Ven alleviated, returning to the communication device. “Alright, good. Now grab the remote. Press the button when we tell you, okay?”

The shayd hastily did as she was told, her four eyes agape at the shambling monster forming before her eyes.

“What. In the name of Thead. Is this thing?” She managed to ask, paralyzed with fear. Finally, the abomination had reformed, its attention directed towards its new roommate.

“Don’t press it yet,” Ven assured the subject. The two cellmates slowly spiraled around the room, making a clear difference between the predator and prey in this situation. The shayd held the remote close to her chest, while the monster prowled around to face her, its faceless head surmising the shape of this intruder, and a thick cable attaching its back to the ceiling.

“Motor capabilities don’t seem to be hindered,” Eyve observed. “Should we test the suppression system now?”. 

Ven watched as the creature began to inch closer toward their volunteer, knocking over the bucket it had spawned from.

“Now! Press it NOW!” Ven screamed through the intercom. The shayd did as she was told, and a current ran its way through the wire, shocking the very core of the monstrosity. It wailed in pain, its form melting away and flailing about, splashing water and darkness about like a typhoon. The shayd watched in horror at the suffering of the being before it. The creature’s movement was unfortunately too much for the cable to handle, as it snapped from the ceiling and fell to the ground. Once the abomination realized it was no longer in pain, it returned its attention towards the shayd. She fervently tried pressing the button again, only to find that it had no more effect, as the core cage’s power had been disconnected.

The abomination pounced on the hapless test subject, shreds of her cloak flying about as Eyve looked away from the sight. Ven, however, continued looking with an expression of disappointment on half of her face. She plugged her arm into a socket near the door and pumped a massive current of electricity throughout the room, stunning the creature.

“Well, that sucked,” Eyve stated, observing the scene. “We’ll have to use a thicker wire next time.”

“It worked exactly as intended.” Ven clarified. “We’re able to pacify them with a fraction of the energy the cages use by directing the charge as close to their cores as possible.” She glowered at the abomination as it rested amongst the shredded cloth and shards of core, the wire still dangling haphazardly from its back on the floor. “The final model will have to be battery-powered, however. Mobility is what we want.” 

“So, when do you think these things’ll be ready for the field?”

Ven tapped her finger on the door for a few seconds, watching the experiment stir and wake up again, disappointed its playmate was now missing.

“One week.”

CHAPTER 52: One Last Look Around

Orsel’s core, swaddled in his cloak, clunked onto the ground after a few hours of rest and precarious positioning. He reformed in a panic, looking around dazed, trying to find the source of his disturbance— but there was none… aside from gravity, of course. He grabbed his crookshank and stepped outside, the imminent sense of danger abated as his eyes met the unparalleled beauty of the night sky once more. 

A million things should have been going through Orsel’s mind this late at night. Would Shaydon ever catch up to him? Would he and his friends succeed in stealing the pieces of the keystone from across Crux? Could they bring peace to the world with Hope’s help? Would he ever get a new visbox? But at this time, in this place, in this somewhat sleep-deprived state, there was no room for any of that. While his ivory eyes soaked in the view of the unspoiled sky amongst the pitch-black walls of the canyon, one thought floated through his head.

These stars sure are beautiful.

CHAPTER 48: Inspection

Ven sat at her workspace, still toiling on the conglomeration of shadow and water with nothing more than a bottle of glue and a set of tweezers. The eye on her face that wasn’t metallically inclined began to show some signs of exhaustion, the esteemed Chief of Shaydon’s R&D was now slouching and looking rather crooked after so much time spent working.

“Sister, we—” Eyve began to speak, unseen by her sister.

“Don’t you know not to interrupt me when I— '' Ven interjected as she spun around in her chair, her hand clenched around her set of tweezers expecting to meet the gaze of Eyve, fuming in anger. Unfortunately, she only managed to come face to face with Edrip, brandishing his staff, and Egred, arms folded. Ven quickly adjusted her demeanor in the presence of her colleagues, straightening her hood and standing upright.

“High Chief Edrip!… Chief Treasurer Egred, what brings you two to our humble laboratory?”

“I’m here to check on progress— see how things are put together, so to speak,” Edrip observed, inspecting his fingers.

“Not to mention, making sure this isn’t a complete waste of our finances,” Egred added, cold as ice. 

“Well, you’ve come at a… very opportune time.” Ven proclaimed, clearing her throat. She scooted aside to show the pair the core she had been slaving over. “This is the face of Shaydon’s future.” Edrip and Egred were confused at what they were looking at.

“It’s a clump of shards,” Edrip observed, side-eyeing Ven while Egred frivolously scribbled something on his clipboard.

“The compounded core,” Eyve stepped forwards to side with her sister, “is a revolutionary step forward for not only our military but also the very understanding of the core itself.” She grabbed the hunk of cobbled shards and held it up towards one of the laboratory’s lights as it glistened a beautiful blend of dark purple and cerulean blue.

“Poetic,” Edrip added. “But how does it work?”

Ven and Eyve nodded to each other. Eyve took the core to a nearby cage, this one thankfully vacant. On the way towards it, she grabbed a bucket filled with water and a large metal plate. As she stepped in, she placed the bucket in the cage’s center, plunked the core in, and covered it with the metal plate, sufficiently providing the core with an environment of sufficient darkness and water. Eyve hastily left the cage’s confines and slammed it shut, regaining her composure somewhat as she backed up next to Edrip.

“Now, the moment of scientific triumph.” Ven proclaimed, sticking her robotic arm into the socket of the cage. Bolts of electricity wreathed and arced themselves around the densely packed bars. Ven kept the voltage at a steady amount until the water inside the bucket eventually began to stir and bubble— A tendril popped out of its entrance, knocking the plate that covered it onto the floor, and a screeching of descending pitch and increasing volume soon filled the room. A new experiment crawled its way out of the bucket and slithered into the cage’s floor as Ven quit electrifying the cage.

“Inconceivable!” Edrip complimented. “You’ve conquered the very bounds between elementals themselves.”

“Thanks to their similar compositions, elemental cores respond heavily to electric currents,” Ven explained. The experiment began to slip through the bars, reconstituting itself. Seeing this, Ven upped the cage’s electric current one last time. It winced and screamed in pain, cowering near its bucket. “It’s also important to make sure the first thing they experience is pain and confusion.” She sneered. “While the shayd components of the core have their spirits sufficiently broken at this point…”

“The other elementals involved still have some fight in them.” Eyve interrupted. “But that’s why we have these.” She said, gleefully brandishing her robotic arm, crackling with energy a bit too close to Egred.

“Ye… Yes, I see…” Egred observed, cowering behind his clipboard. “Now, how exactly will these beings do… work for us?”

“What do you mean? Look at it! It’s marvelous!” Edrip said, raising his hands at the abomination, who was currently trying to eat the bucket it had spawned out of.

 “Yes, it’s marvelous, as you say,” Egred replied sarcastically. “But despite its admittedly impressive size and strength, it doesn’t seem to possess any capabilities of higher thought.”

“Well, yeah, we’re still working on—” Eyve responded, only to be met with Ven’s hand clasping over her face.

“It’s only a slight issue. Surely, this is enough of a marvel to continue receiving increased funding, yes?”

Edrip stepped towards the cage, scowling at the creature, who was still attempting to chew on the bucket some more. It finally managed to swallow it, only for the solid matter to pass halfway through its bodily composition of water and shadow. The clump of metal was promptly expelled from the side of the abomination’s torso and fell, clattering onto the cage’s floor. Before it could go after the bucket and repeat the cycle once more, it took notice of Edrip as he approached the cage. As Edrip stepped forward, fearlessly, eventually coming to the very edge of the cage, the creature growled louder and louder, until finally it lunged forward, only to meet the wrath of its prison’s electrified wall. Edrip, with his expression unchanged, looked down at it in contempt as it reconstituted itself.

“Egred has a point.” He announced, walking away from the cage. “This abomination shows no semblance of fear or respect towards anything but immediate discipline.” Edrip scowled as he turned his head towards the twins. “Fix it.” Eyve nudged her sister’s hand from her face to add another point.

“Well, we’re trying, but we’re in uncharted waters he— OW!” Again, she was interrupted by Ven, who had used a low voltage from her mechanical arm to try and silence her sister.

“It will be done. You will have your results soon.”

“How soon?” Egred prodded. “Time is star, after all.”

“Soon enough!” Ven scolded, stretching herself over the intimidated treasurer, hands balled into fists. “Our genius has yet to be rivaled. Surely you do not doubt our abilities this early in the process of a scientific breakthrough.”

“Hmmm… One week.” Edrip declared. “You’ve done fine work so far, but there are still improvements to be made with these projects of yours. Come along, Egred. Let’s leave our twin chiefs here to do their work.”

“Wait, bu— They’re nowhere nea—” Egred blubbered, only to receive a cold gaze from Egred as he stopped and turned back around to face him. “Oh, fine.” He conceded, leaving as he pointed his pen towards Eyve and Ven. “You two got lucky,” he sneered. “He won’t be throwing funds at your tricks forever, and when he stops… BAM! I’ll be there to—”

“EGRED!” Edrip shouted, waiting at the exit doorway. “Let’s go. We don’t have all day.”

“Er, coming sir.” Egred agreed, embarrassed as he caught up to the Chief of The Seven, and the two left the lab, presumably on their merry way to further business around Shaydon.

Once enough time had passed, and Ven was sure they had left, she snapped around and stormed towards the cage.

“An inspection? Ugh, the NERVE.”

“Right? Who does he think he is?” Eyve chimed in.

Ven leaned against the cage’s bars, staring at the creation who was lying down next to its beloved bucket.

“How’s progress really going on teaching them… anything?”

“Nonexistent. I was being truthful with Edrip, you know.”

“We’ve been around long enough to know that the last thing you want to do is be truthful with Edrip.” Ven tilted her head back in frustration. “We have a week to get these things to listen to us. Are you certain you—”

“Yes! I’ve tried everything!” Eyve rebutted. “No comprehension of language, numbers, object permanence, or pattern recognition. I can see it every time they get fed— they don’t know who I am or even anticipate the coming food. Let’s face it— they’re worse than animals.”

“Well, we can’t keep them in cages forever,” Ven muttered, returning to the containers of core shards scattered on one of the desks, but as she grabbed a particularly large shard of the core of an earth elemental, gazing upon how it looked grasped within her claw-like hand, an idea sparked within her half of a head.

“Or can we?”

CHAPTER 49: Water, Water, Somewhere

The Genesis Canyon was certainly a change of pace from the usual cracked badlands of Tunnelis, however, its welcomeness was debatable. Vast cliffs, steep terrain, and treacherous rock formations surrounded the trio at every turn. Jake, despite his size, was able to navigate without much trouble, slithering along the rubble the same way tank treads would, unshakeable and steady. He had kept a strange sense of calm throughout the journey, almost like that of a machine. It baffled Orsel and most of all Vino how he never seemed tired at seemingly any point. Sure he was an elemental, and a big one at that, but even elementals had limits. When he was moving forward, it almost seemed as though he was hypnotized. Orsel took the cavern’s formations as a welcome opportunity to train himself for the coming job, snaking across the cliffs and swinging from cracks with his crookshank, using the best of his abilities to keep up with the group while taking “scenic routes” above and below. He even made a game of trying to sneak around his friends, popping up when they least expected it, a tradition quickly put to an end when he almost accidentally spooked Vino into a ravine. Vino, however, had it the worst. His roots, usually tough enough to traverse most terrain, were practically rubbed raw from having to step around the uneven rocks and cliffs. He desperately kept his eyes peeled for water, as his third canteen’s contents slowly dwindled to half. The others offered to carry his supplies to ease his traveling, but despite their insistence, he refused. Even though he was tired, frustrated, and burdened, he kept on moving, fueled by determination, desperation, or some strange blend of the two. Whatever the case, he knew that forwards was the only way left for him to go.

After hours of continuing their long, arduous journey, the group had heard something odd coming from deeper within the canyon’s recesses, gurgling and steady. As they trodded towards the noise, they came upon an area that was much colder than the surrounding sun-baked stones. Not only was it a welcome change of temperature, but it meant one surefire thing… 

“Water!” Blurted out Vino. He scrambled and slid down the ravine, desperately trying to get closer and closer to the mercurial sound of the rushing stream he had heard. Jake and Orsel followed suit, making sure that Vino wouldn’t hurt himself. Eventually, the water entered Vino’s sight, with the only thing separating them being a sheer 40-foot drop between two solid rock walls. Vino tried grinding to a halt against the ground, but the loose gravel on the canyon floor negated any friction that would have helped him. 

“Oh, seed— help! HELP!” He screamed. He slid closer to the edge of the wall as he tripped over, flailing about and trying to grip something that would save him. Just before he went over the edge, he heard a loud CRACK!, and felt his equipment bag snag on something, keeping him still and hovering above the treacherous waters. Orsel had snagged the bag’s strap with his crookshank and began to hoist Vino upwards.

“Hang on, Vino! I got you!” As Vino finally reached solid ground, he ran up to Orsel.

“Thank you so much. I can’t believe that even happened.” 

Orsel dusted some gravel off Vino’s shirt.

“Are you alright?” he asked. 

Vino grabbed his sack, carefully stepped far away from the edge of the river wall, and bumped into Jake.

“I’m fine, but I do NOT want to repeat that.” 

Jake shambled down to the river wall, only to look down and whistle.

“That is DEEP.” He proclaimed. 

“No kidding,” Vino replied, pacing around. “But I need to find some way to get it. We should set up camp here.” 

“Might as well. We’re gonna need a lot of energy for the path we’re taking tomorrow. I’ll start digging.”Jake replied as he sat down. 

While Jake and Orsel bulldozed the ground and gathered firewood respectively, Vino stood frozen above the wall of the ravine, staring at the tantalizing water rushing beneath. His brain was working a mile a minute, trying to think of some way to collect his prize from below. He considered the facts— the stream was around 40 feet down, with a sheer rock wall on each side, made smooth most likely from years of erosion. There was an overhang above the stream, also made from hard stone. The water came from a hole on the left side of the wall, quite possibly from an underground deposit, and flowed into another hole in the upper-right side of the wall after traveling about 50 feet downstream, possibly into a different underground well. Vino looked into his equipment sack for materials and inspiration. 

Amongst his personal effects like clothes and some rope, Vino also found a troubling sight within his pack— one of the canteens in his pack had been broken. He wondered how this could have happened, but then remembered the cracking sound he heard while Orsel saved him. A day’s worth of water down the drain! He supposed it was a fair tradeoff for having his life saved, but he still debated on whether or not to confront Orsel about the situation.

“Hey, Vino!” bellowed Jake, sitting next to a tunnel and piling up firewood. “Camp’s all set up! Come on and take a break. I know you’ve had it kind of rough lately.” Vino carefully repacked his equipment and sat beside Jake. He slumped over and began drawing diagrams in the dirt. Jake began to make a circle out of some of the rocks surrounding the camp. “Trying to figure out how to get that water, eh?” Vino scribbled out his plan and began to make a new one. 

“It’s the best use of my time right now, that’s for sure. I was thinking of doing something with the rope I have packed.” Jake started picking out some appropriately sized logs from the nearby wood pile.

“Well, normally I’d offer to dig my way down, but we’re at the bottom of the canyon. Everything’s solid rock from here on out.” Jake replied, knocking on the ground to prove his point, “my claws don’t make the cut, unfortunately.” Vino pulled the coil of rope out of his pack and stared at it intently.

“I think it would be best if I went about this one alone. I’m the only one who needs the water, so I should be responsible for gathering it. It’s only fair.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” Replied Jake, cutting a larger log in half, “But just know that if you need any help, you can always come to me or Orsel.”

Vino stood up and went back to the stream.

“I’m well aware.”

The plan was simple— tie a canteen to the end of the rope and dangle it down so it could fill up with water. It seemed easy enough, but the prospects darkened once Vino dangled the rope at its full length down the edge of the rock wall. As he guessed, it wasn’t long enough, only making it about halfway down. He tied some of his spare clothing to the rope, only to find that it didn’t add much to the length, barely making it about two-thirds of the way with everything considered. He then added the shirt he was currently wearing. Again— not much difference. Vino then added his blanket to the length, which was substantial, but still not enough to make it to the water. Even if he added his pants, the reach still wouldn’t be enough. It was time to face facts— he needed something else. He looked back at the camp to see Jake trying to light the campfire, with Orsel unloading an armful of firewood into the pile. Vino plodded back towards the campsite and went up to Orsel.

“Hey, do you have any long sticks in there?” Vino quizzed, leaning to look around him. Orsel scratched under his hood.

“I’m not sure any of the ones here are super long, but I did see a big branch over where I’ve been getting this stuff. You wanna come with?” His eyes darted down and back up again. “What happened to your shirt?”

“It’s a long story.” Retorted Vino. “Well, not really. Let’s find that branch and I’ll tell you on the way.”

CHAPTER 50: Rooted in Honesty

It was a short journey to Orsel’s wood-finding area, just up the valley around the overhang of the stream. A short, steep climb and a five-minute walk were all that separated the camp from an enormous grove of dead kracktrees.

“So that’s the plan, huh?” Orsel said, climbing over a rock on the trail.

Vino tried to hoist himself over the boulder as well, but then conceded to just going around.

“Yup, all I need is a bit more length to dip the rope down.”

The two were now face-to-face with the grove, with Orsel’s crookshank stuck out of the dirt in the entrance, greeting the two.

“I forgot I left this here. Hey, what if I just climbed down there myself? I bet I could fill those bottles in no time!” Orsel said, swinging his newly obtained crookshank around the air in excitement.

Vino walked up to a tree and started breaking off a branch.

“The walls are too sheer, and they get wetter at the bottom. Too slick even for you, I’d think.”

Orsel whacked the sharp end of his crookshank into the branch of a different tree. “Maybe I could make some divots in there to keep my footing. Or maybe you could add me and Jake’s clothes to your rope, or hoist me down so I could—”

“Look,” Interrupted Vino. “I appreciate the suggestions, but I just want to go about things my own way.”

Orsel’s massive branch finally fell to the ground after a few good whacks, before being surrounded by silence. Orsel then decided to break it.

“Vino, you know you can ask us for help with anything.”

Vino barked back at him.

“I KNOW, ALRIGHT! I just want to prove that I’m-” Vino paused and collected himself. “You said there was a long branch around here. Where is it?”

Orsel yanked his crookshank out of the branch.

“Vino, I’m sensing some tension. Talk to me.” Vino plodded away in silence, determined to find the solution himself. “Vino!” Orsel repeated. “Come on, what’s eating you?” Vino began to race-walk, his three roots trodding on the scorched earth, leading himself into a much denser patch of dried kracktrees. Orsel’s voice shouted once more through the thicket. “Vino, I wouldn’t go that way!” 

“Oh, what do you know?” Vino muttered. Not one second later, he lost his footing over the edge of a cliff, his foot lodged into a root being the only factor keeping him from a grisly demise. Vino sighed in relief and leaned fully back, offering himself some time to think of a plan. Unfortunately, fate demonstrated it had a plan of its own when Vino suddenly heard a cracking noise from around his root. ”No, no, no, no!” he cried, but just after the dried root gave out, almost as if on cue, Orsel’s crookshank swiped down, latching Vino by the seat of his pants. 

“I was gonna tell you, there’s a cliff over—” Before Orsel could finish, Vino let out an anguished scream, so loud it echoed across the expanse beneath him and caused a decently sized rock some distance away to tumble down the cliffside. Orsel kept Vino dangling. “So… Do you want to talk?” Vino tried keeping his eyes away from Orsel’s face.

“I suppose now’s as good a time as any. After all, you’ve provided quite an incentive not to do otherwise.” 

“I’ll admit, it is a pretty good motivator.” Orsel joked. His tone then shifted to genuine concern. “Now, come on. I know there’s something up. Ever since we left Lum you’ve been distant and moody, and you’ve completely rejected any of me and Jake’s help.” Vino now began to spin the other way and sighed. 

“What do you want me to say? That I’m no good, and you’re regretting taking me with you?” Orsel adjusted the crookshank so it was in a more comfortable position for him. 

“I want to hear the truth. I want to hear what my teammate and my friend Vino Seedowski has troubling him, so hopefully, I can help fix it.”

  There was a long pause before anyone spoke, the slowly setting sun and Vino slowly being swayed by the breeze. Finally, Vino sighed 

“That’s the problem. You guys have to come in and fix everything.” Orsel winced. 

“Vino, you know that’s not true.” 

“Yes, it is! Heck, this is the third time today you’ve saved my life.” Vino snapped. 

“Back at Lum, you two were the ones out there fighting off the raiding party, and where was I? Cowering in Hope’s throne room…” He slumped down. “Let’s face it— I can’t do what you guys can. You can climb up walls and swing from ledges. Jake makes us HOUSES underground like it’s nothing. You guys can actually do things. All I can do is think about what’s happening while it blows up in my face.” Orsel started to pull Vino up. 

“Aw, Vino, don’t think like that. You’re the most important person here. Without you, we wouldn’t even be out here. Think about it, who made the plan to bust out of Shaydon to get us all the way out here? You.” Vino grumbled. 

“Yeah, and not a day later, you two had to pick up after me after I went dehydrated. I’m not built for this job. I’m not tough, or strong, or a fighter, or anything. I’m a pansy.” Vino buried his face in his hands. Orsel continued to slowly hoist Vino up but stopped for a moment to puzzle. 

“Is that what kind of flower you are?” 

“Well technically I’m an aster—Oh, you know what I mean!” Vino snapped, lifting his head. “That’s what all this has been about. I just want to prove that I can make it out here, out in the real world, and that there’s nothing I can’t accomplish, no obstacle that cannot be conquered with enough intellect and perseverance.” he drooped his head back down, still hanging. “It’s just hard when those accomplishments have to stand up next to you two. You don’t have any of the hangups I do.” Orsel plopped Vino back onto solid ground, on the cliff's edge. 

“Vino, just because you need to do stuff like eat and drink doesn’t mean you’re worse than us. And don’t forget, we have our limits, too. This sun is like daggers on my body. The only reason I’m not collapsing from pain is because I’ve been building up resistance to it, and you will too, it just takes time. I know you’re sick of hearing this, but Hope told us for a reason. We're a team, we shouldn’t be afraid to lean on one another or ask each other for help.” Vino stood up and dusted himself off. 

“I know that, but what if I can’t live up to these expectations, or hold up my end? What if we fail, and I’m the sole one to blame?” Orsel scoffed. 

“What if the clouds let the sunshine through? Or stones could float? There’s no point in worrying about this stuff, especially not now.” Just then, the two heard tree branches cracking behind them. Orsel whipped around to brandish his crookshank, while Vino grabbed a rock and prepared to throw it. Jake breached through the path they were facing, nearly out of breath. 

“I heard screaming— what’s going on?” Orsel and Vino looked at each other, and Vino nodded bashfully. 

“Vino has some… concerns to voice,” Orsel stated.

The time passed, and the sun was beginning to set, painting the ground before the trio a bold, earthy orange, spattered with their long, twisted shadows. Orsel, Vino, and Jake made their way back to the campsite, each carrying a bundle of kracktree branches. Vino bundled his pile before it fell out of his arms. 

“Sorry, you guys had to listen to me bellyache about this stuff,” he claimed.

Jake spoke up.

“Aw, it’s fine, Vino. You just gotta remember, at the end of the day, it’s not about who’s the biggest or the strongest, the fastest or the smartest, it’s about who went out there and gave it their all, and I can say for certain that you’ve done that tenfold, for every day that I’ve known you so far.” Vino smiled. 

“Thank you, that means a lot to me, Jacob. I’ve just had to deal with the back end of a lot of things throughout my life. It’s nice that I can talk to you guys about stuff.” 

“Anytime,” added Orsel. As the campsite entered the group’s view, Vino heard the rushing water and remembered how parched he was. He rushed back to his supply pack and guzzled down an entire canteen of water. He then looked over at the project he was working on, and then back over at his friends behind him. 

“How would you guys like to help me out with something?” He smirked.

Vino’s new and improved plan was now in motion. Orsel, now cloakless, tied a rope around his waist, now further extended with Orsel and Jake’s garments. Canteens clattered around his body. Jake grabbed the other end of the rope, giving Vino a thumbs up. 

“Now!” Vino exclaimed. Orsel rappelled down the stream’s wall, reaching the cold water with rope room to spare. He made quick work of filling each of the canteens to the fullest with the clear spring water. Orsel tugged twice on the rope, and Jake hoisted him back up to the surface to celebrate with Vino. He took a victory swig while the others dressed themselves back up. The three, now triumphant, went over to the campfire, which they found was unlit. Jake scratched his head. 

“Huh. I guess I never got around to lighting the thing.” 

“Do we even want to stay up late enough to use it?” Vino punctuated. “Besides, you did say we should conserve our energy for tomorrow.” Orsel grabbed a plank of wood from the pile. “Are you saying we gathered all this for nothing?” 

Jake ducked into the burrow.

“Seems like the ca—” His train of thought was interrupted as his eyes met Orsel’s plank as he swiveled his head. Jake then slithered over to grab it from Orsel’s hand. He examined it, the plank was nothing like any of the other branches in the pile. It was a shard of something hand-made, with squared-off edges and a rusted nail stuck part way through its center. “Where’d you get this?” Jake asked Orsel. 

“Out with the rest of those trees,” Orsel explained. “It was just laying out in the middle of a clearing.”

Vino signaled Jake to hand him the plank, then began to study it intensively. “This must mean there are some structures nearby— possibly trail guides or path markers.” Vino tried dusting off the plank’s surface. “Looks like it hasn’t been taken care of for a while, though.”

Jake spoke his thoughts.“Tourist trap, most likely. Back in the Genesis’ heyday, there wasn’t a Terrian alive who wasn’t looking to make some star off this place. Tours, weird-looking rocks, tours that took you to weird-looking rocks— the place had it all. There’s probably a few shanties still standing since the crash.” 

Vino turned around to Orsel.“Did you see anything like that around where you found this?”

Orsel scratched the back of his head with his crookshank.“All I saw around were trees, but I can take you to where I found it.” 

Vino leaned the plank against the burrow’s entrance and saw that the peeking sun was half-sunk into the ground. “We’ll investigate tomorrow. It’s definitely worth checking out if it means catching a glimpse of a place that has experience with this canyon.” 

The trio made their way back into the burrow as the sun drifted below the horizon. The beds were a bit rougher than before, being more gravel than dirt, but they were still a decent place to doze off for the night. Just to be safe, Vino sprinkled a little extra compost onto his bunk to make sure he’d get the nutrients he needed. After everything that happened today, he earned it.

CHAPTER 44: Out

As Orsel left the workshop, the city’s visitors and ruler had fallen into the gentle caress of slumber. It did not come easily, especially for Orsel and Vino, as their long-awaited task would indeed be beginning at the coming of the next morning. While night swept over Lum as it was partway inhabited for one last night, and the stars and smattering of galaxies crawled across the sky, a dream snuck its way into Orsel’s core while it was snugly wrapped within his cloak. Now, elementals don’t have dreams the same way most other living folks do, since when one of their kind is still in their core, they don’t often waste any of their energy with things like subconscious thought. They do, however, experience dreams by way of emotion, feeling happy or sad, cycling through feelings in a seemingly random order while within their period of stasis. Orsel’s dream was a pastiche of around four different feelings:

Happy

Sad

Confused

Content

Then… Pain. A stinging sensation that slowly grew to the point Orsel’s core realized this was no longer a dream. In a panic, his body began to reconstitute, his eyes and tendrils hastily forming in order to pull his core away from the light. As he fully reformed and untangled himself from his cloak, he got a good look at what was causing his predicament— a wayward beam of light had snuck into the room and awoke him prematurely. 

“Orsel!” Jacob’s voice boomed nearby, the titan soon arriving at the doorway of Orsel’s chosen sleeping space. 

“Come on, it’s time.”

The three were lined up outside the back entrance to Lum, the fresh, orange sun blaring in their faces, forcing Orsel to yank his hood over his eyes. Vino carried a large, heavy-looking pack on his back, Jacob looking somewhat surprised that he both required so many resources and was able to lift the thing by himself in the first place. Hope blipped before them, her back to the sun.

“Heroes of Lum.” She announced to the quiet morning, her hand raised theatrically. “We are gathered here to mark the departure for a series of missions that will define the world’s fate. You three have the intelligence, strength, and adaptability capable of performing the monumental task set before you, and not only am I relying on you, you, in turn, must also rely on one another, for only as a team, or even as a pair, you will be able to accomplish what you need. For in the words of the founder of Lum, Faith…” She suddenly stopped talking, her body slouching back forwards. “I… look, nobody else is around, and we’d be here all day if I gave the whole speech.” She stepped aside, as if to permit the trio to leave. “So have a safe trip, work together, and call me when you get a waveform if you need anything, okay?” The group nodded, Orsel somewhat disappointed in the lack of commitment to the fanfare. Hope stood straight once more to deliver five more words before blipping away.

“Crux is counting on you.”

CHAPTER 45: Fragments

Ven shuffled through the cage-lined halls of the basement of Shaydon’s central laboratory. Since the recent allocation of funds they had given (besides the barter that Eyve had hastily set up with Rawth), they were thankfully able to expand their work upstairs… But that didn’t mean things were any less cramped down here. Her right side of the hall was populated by the numerous Shayd prisoners that had been introduced to their fragile ecosystem, sometimes with up to eight at once crammed into a single cell. While the left was reserved for the already-made experiments, writhing in pain, sleeping, or continuing to hork down Eyve’s nutrient-dense supplementary meals. Ven stopped at a cell, fourth from the right of the hall, and turned around to face it. Inside were around a half-dozen miscreant shayd, shuddering in fear at their captor’s unfeeling, half-robotic gaze. They had felt the sting of her arm’s and the cage’s electric shocks one too many times, and had no fight within them to bare at the present half of Shaydon’s Research and Development. 

Ven pointed at the cage. 

“You, the one on the left. Step forward.” Puzzled, the shayd she had referred to winced a confused look, before, not one second later, the other cellmates took it upon themselves to “assist” the requested prisoner forwards. Ven stuck her hand in the mechanical socket adjacent to the cage, and the shayd twitched at the thought of being zapped once more… but collective punishment wasn’t what the scientist had planned at this moment. Instead of sending several thousand watts of energy to line the walls and floor of the cell, she turned the socket a quarter of the way, the door quickly lifting upwards. Still somewhat in disbelief, the shayd that had stepped forward simply stood there, dumbfounded. Ven grabbed the unwilling volunteer by the shoulder and dragged him out, turning the socket once more and bringing the cell door down with a mighty, clattering SLAM! As she led the prisoner back upstairs, she turned a sly eye back towards the prison cell’s socket. She jammed it in one last time, delivering an incorrigible ZAP to the remaining prisoners.

Ven and the prisoner ascended the stairs and ladder with little conflict and conversation, eventually meeting the sight of the twins’ newly-adapted experimentation quarters. Desks covered with containers filled with shattered cores from elementals across Crux were lined up neatly.

“W—what are you going to do with me?” The prisoner asked, finally building up the courage to speak after his time in isolation.

“This.” Ven answered coldly, prodding the prisoner one last time with her electric hand, forcing him to kneel from the pain. Once he had been properly fried, Ven jabbed her arm into his back, ripping through his cloak, and yanked his core out. It was a fairly easy process, but one that was also far from finished. While the errant shadows that dispersed from the cloak tried desperately to cling around the exposed core, Ven calmly, yet quickly moved the precious item to one of the desks, and into the confines of a machine that bore a striking resemblance to some form of crusher. As the stone lay in the indent of the machine’s base, she plugged her arm into a socket in its side, and began to spin it rapidly. A spiked implement began to slowly descend upon the core, putting pressure on it until it began to glow a bright purple, while the shadows that had managed to make contact with it rippled and spiked outwards in pain, like a glob of magnetic liquid. Eventually, the pressure was too much for the humble stone, as small flecks began to fling off of it like popcorn, until eventually, with an ear-splitting CRASH, the Core was nothing more than a pile of cleanly-split shards and fragments— the shadows that once desperately coiled around it dissipating.

“We need to find some way to automate this.” Ven complained, removing the indented portion of the machine and dumping the contents into a small container. With a fresh supply of shards in hand, she now had the intense task ahead of her, piecing together a new core made from the combined parts of this volunteer and another elemental. She made her way to an empty workspace, swearing she had left the shards of an earth elemental when she had last been there. Thinking nothing of it, she took a container labeled “Aquean” from a pile and got to work finding suitable pieces in its confines. The cost of true, unbridled creation was a high one, with resources and time always being at a shortage.

CHAPTER 46: Walk & Talk

The party took their first few pensive steps and slithers outside the confines of Lum, this time without the confidence that they would be returning.

Orsel and his friends ventured onwards from the city, briefed on their mission, and moved forward with a wavering sense of optimism for the task ahead. First things first, the trio would have to make their way to Tunnelis— a cracked, sun-bleached badland arguably worse than the desert of Lum. It was a journey that would take several days, at its very best. Thankfully, however, after about a week of time away from Shaydon and a bout with a raiding party, they were properly supplied and prepared to head onwards.

The sun climbed into the sky, a garish orange, eventually melting into harsh daylight. The blinding yellow dunes were marred only by gentle winds, and eventually by the tracks of the group venturing upon them. Vino took his first swig from one of his water jugs and began to make conversation with his new business partners. “So,” he exasperated, “How do you think we’re going to go about doing this?” Jake replied to him, still looking forward. 

“Well, I’m not quite sure. I haven’t got anything further than swiping it when they’re not looking,” 

“Not to mention running like nobody’s business.” Added Orsel. Vino was nearly dumbfounded at the lax response of his friends but continued to press. 

“Yeah, alright, but there’s still the matter of specifics to get into. Jake, you’re from Tunnelis. Do you know anything about where they keep the keystone?” 

“Not exactly, no.'' Answered Jake. “You heard Hope, Maw’s in charge of that thing… Unfortunately.” 

Vino trotted up to Jake, trying to continue the discussion more conveniently. 

“Alright then,” He continued, “What can you tell us about her?”’ Jake paused for a bit before replying, thoughts flickering behind his dull orange eyes. 

“Of course— any terrian worth their salt knows about Maw.” A confused look scribbled its way onto Vino’s face. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask, is that really what she goes by— Maw?” he asked. 

“Yup. Well, It’s kind of her show name at this point. Her real name is Bethany Wad. She’s something of a tycoon— buying up land left and right, expanding her business— Maw’s Diggin’s whether folks want it or not,” Jake continued. 

“Alright, I know she’s our prime suspect— but I just can’t get past that name. It sounds… Unsavory. Maw. Maaw,” Vino added. 

“Yeah, I see what you mean. Maw. I—If you’re going to do a show name at all, wouldn’t you want something, y’know, pleasant?” interjected Orsel. 

“It’s got its fans. Has a double meaning, too.” Jake explained. “Y’see, some folk see her as a… caretaker of sorts. A mother, a ‘maw’. She provides a lot of jobs, and the whole image has worked well for her brand. Buuut…” he trailed off. 

“But what?” asked Orsel. 

“But, a lot of folks also see her as a monster, a gaping ‘maw’ taking bites off of what’s left of the family ranches and plots out here.” 

“And which camp are you in?” prodded Vino. 

“Take a wild guess.” Scoffed Jake. A dead, fluttering leaf from one of the resident fractal bushes blew by. There was a long period of silence between the questions. Vino concluded the best time to plan would be when they knew their environment.

The day crept onwards, with the scenery of pure, picturesque dunes slowly being interrupted by the odd stone and Spactus stalk. The flecks of the changing landscape meant one important thing— the first signs of Tunnelis were slowly creeping closer to the traveling party.

After hours of walking, and a full water canteen spent, dusk began to creep closer and closer to the present hour, the unforgiving sun mere minutes away from becoming the focal point in a picturesque sunset, a symbol of both triumph, and the coming night. Vino was ready to call it a day, with Orsel sharing the sentiment slowly after. However, Jake convinced them to keep moving until the sun began to touch the ground. The two were hesitant to continue, but also knew that Jake knew the desert better than both of them. Surely, if anyone knew the lay of the land and when it was safe to travel, it would be him. He was made of the stuff, after all.

Orsel lazily shifted onwards, leaning fully on his crookshank.

“Where do you think we’ll be staying while we’re out and about?” He asked. Vino panted. 

“Out here, or when we reach Tunnelis?” 

“Either way, I’ll be able to provide,” interrupted Jake, cracking his glass claws. “Once we reach dirt, I’ll be able to dig us a warren to hunker down in, and as for Tunnelis, You’ll get the treat of staying in my family ranch!” 

“What’s a ranch like?” Followed up Orsel. Jake’s face lit up at the opportunity to answer him.

“Oh, it’s magnificent. We got a big house, lots of land for farmin’ spactus, a barn, a shed, uh… a fence. I just hope the place is still standing, though.” 

“Why is that? Is there anyone else there?” Asked Vino. Concern began to solidify within Jake’s mind. 

“Well, sort of,” he replied, “Most of the family left the nest, but there’s still a couple of my siblings who’ve been looking after the place for the past few years.” 

“What made them, uh, leave the nest?” Orsel puzzled, nearly tripping over a patch of grass. Jake’s expression twisted. 

“It… ain’t something I like talking about too much.”

 Jacob stopped in his tracks, and the others in the posse followed suit, almost collapsing from exhaustion in doing so. Unfazed, Jake looked at the sun to see it was now beginning to truly set, then down at the ground to see that the land they stood upon was not soft, sun-blessed sands, but the proper firmament he knew all his life. It was cracked, dusty, and bleached by the sun, but it was dirt. 

“We’ll set up camp here,” Jake announced. Orsel looked around, confused. 

“How?” he inquired. Jake stretched his arms and torso. 

“A little Terrian hospitality. You two might want to step back.” Orsel and Vino backed up a reasonable amount, with Vino putting on his goggles. Jake prepared to dig. First, he cupped his hands together, merging his palms into one appendage. Next, the fingers on his new conjoined hands began to rotate with thunderous conviction, much like that of a drill. Finally, he leaped up into the air, reaching his hands into the sky, only to dive and crash into the earth, grinding it with the combined force of his spinning fingers and his irrevocable girth. Dirt and chunks of root flew out with reckless abandon, forcing Orsel to cower under his hood, and Vino to shield his face even further with his scrawny arms. 

After the initial chaos, Jake’s spinning form submerged below the ground, and an excavational fountain began to spew upwards in a mighty show of force. The two remaining members of the group inched closer out of curiosity about the digging process, with Vino taking the lead. After some time, the downpour of dirt shifted from a roar to a trickle, until shortly after, Jake’s voice echoed from the darkness below. 

“Come on down, fellas! I did a good job with this one!” Orsel cautiously dropped to look at the progress his friend had made to find that the arrangement provided was surprisingly liveable. The area carved out was spacious, with columns of dirt left in for support, and three raised areas supposedly used for bedding. 

“Jake, this is incredible!” exclaimed Orsel. 

“Ah, weren’t nothing,” said Jake, blowing his spinning hand like that of a revolver barrel. Vino shambled over to the burrow’s entrance. 

“Ooh, let me take a look.” He popped his head down the entrance hole to survey. “Can someone help me down?” Jake clasped his hands around Vino and set him gently down on the soft, dank ground. Vino surveyed the area. 

“Yes, this should do for the night. It seems structurally sound enough.” Orsel inspected and knocked his finger on one of the support columns. 

“It sure does, although, as much as I’d like to do a full building inspection on this place, I am WIPED.” He stuck his crookshank into the side of one of the “beds'' and curled up on top of one of them. “Good night, everyone.” The others, realizing they don’t exactly have anything better to do, follow suit, eventually leaving nothing within the cave but two glittering cores and an unconscious flauna.

CHAPTER 47: The Genesis Canyon

A loud, familiar sound shook the shelter, as Jake began digging a slanted path up to the surface. Orsel’s core shook off of his mound and fell to the floor, groggily reforming his body as he searched for his cloak. Vino uprooted himself, prepared to unleash his fury unto Jake until he decided downing some water after the long, parching night would be a better use of his time. The morning sunrise screamed its way into the room, only partially obscured by the dust and rubble kicked up by Jake’s morning escapades. 

“Rise and shine, boys!” He bellowed into the cave. “Let’s get back on the road.” Vino, now hydrated, was suddenly reminded of his anger. 

“What’s the big idea, waking us up like that?” Jake’s body blotted out the sun as he slithered back into the hideout. 

“We need to keep moving, petals! Early to rise, early to bed, keeps fugitives healthy, and not caught or dead!” Orsel’s eyes flatten. 

“How long did it take you to come up with that one?” 

“Yesterday evening” replied Jake. “Now, let’s get a move on.” 

The three shambled out of the dugout to greet the morning sun of Tunnelis once more, with varying levels of enthusiasm. The first light of day was already borderline torturous, beginning to scorch the land with beams that would have even made Hope jealous of their luminosity. Vino cracked his poorly-postured back, making a sound similar to that of a snapped-into celery stick, while Orsel took every measure he could to not have his eyes meet the sun. The land ahead was cruel and barren, but forwards was the only direction to move, especially at this point. With no hesitation, the group silently took their first collective steps into the day.

Tunnelis’ landscape was considerably more interesting than that of the dunes of the Lum desert. Spactus stalks and ombushes were a common sight throughout the plains, with the odd, scaly kracktree sprouting up from the depths below. Despite the larger amount of foliage, however, water was nowhere to be seen. A fact quite troubling for Vino, who was beginning to reach into the lower half of his second canteen at this point. Grand formations such as stone arches, perforated walls, and grand plateaus sprung up along the journey, beautiful and intimidating, showcasing what a force as humble as the land itself was truly capable of with enough time and patience. Orsel sometimes got hung up behind the group, frozen in place staring at these structures. They sparked something within him— some form of appreciation and understanding beyond how they were put together or how they still stood upright. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, and it would remain that way as Jake or Vino would elect to snap him out of it and drag him back to the trail.

Eventually, in the afternoon, the group was faced with a formation of the earth that they simply could not ignore. An enormous canyon, spanning the horizon. Layers of long-forgotten sand and dirt painted the walls, while spindly towers and buttes propped up rocks that almost looked like islands in a sea of emptiness and color. Jake seemed awfully proud of himself for leading his partners here. 

“Well, fellas, say hello to the Genesis Canyon.” 

“Hello, Genesis Canyon,” said Orsel, waving at the great scar in the firmament half-sympathetically. 

Vino reached for his second canteen only to find that it was completely emptied during the trip. He groaned in frustration.“How much longer do we have to travel?” 

Jake looked down over the edge of the canyon, attempting to find a good place to start climbing down. “Well, I’d say we’re about a third of the ways there.” Vino’s eyes widened in despair. 

“A THIRD?” 

Jake stood up, wiping his hands of the dirt from kneeling down. “Well, we’ll be halfway after we cross the genesis, here. It’s gonna take a while, though.”

 Orsel wedged his crookshank onto a nearby rock and climbed up, surveying the surrounding area. “Is there any easier way around this place?”

“Nope,” Answered Jake, shaking his head, “going around would double our travel time. Heck, I heard it’s almost big enough to swallow the Palthan ocean.” 

Vino arched his body over the canyon’s ledge, trying to draw paths through it with his head. “How fascinating.” He retorted, partly frustrated. “Hey, speaking of oceans, there wouldn’t happen to be any water down there, would there?” Vino pulled out one of his empty water canteens, shaking it to emphasize his point. “I might need a refill soon.” 

Jake scratched his head. “I… can’t see any from up here. Although, I’m sure there’s still a few cricks spattered around that we can camp near. Come on, follow me!”

CHAPTER 41: In

It turned out to be the late morning once Jacob finally got back to Lum, and just his luck, when he returned to the entrance of the archives, Hope was meeting with Orsel and Vino. Jake barreled forwards, the three happy to see him again after thinking the big guy went missing. 

“Jacob!” Vino greeted. “We were worried about you.”

“Where’d you run off?” Orsel asked.

“I went for a walk… Needed to think.” Jake answered. “And with all my thinkin’, I have an answer for you, Hope… And some terms to discuss.” 

“Oh!” Hope expressed, startled. “Well, then, let’s hear it.” She put her hands on her hips.

“I’ve decided I’m gonna help you out with yer big Keystone thing.” Jacob announced.

“Oh, that’s wonderful! We should-”

“…Once.”

“Once?” Hope tilted her head, confused, the other two following the expression.

“Yup. Tunnelis, my home, is the closest nation here, and they’ve got a shard of the keystone if’n I recall correctly. I’ll help you with your heist there, but after that, I’m out.”

Hope scrunched her face a bit in thought, cupping her cheek in her hand. After side-eyeing for a few seconds, she extended her hand outwards in agreement.

“Alright, I’ll allow it- we need all the help we can get, and if you’re willing to come along for even one of these jobs, then I’ll take it.”

“Jake’s in!” Orsel raised his arms upwards in excitement.

“Yes, welcome to the team.” Vino invited.

“Alright, don’t get too excited, you heard the drill. ONE shard. Now let’s get down to brass tacks, how exactly is compensation gonna work here?”

“Well…” Hope answered awkwardly. “I was planning on paying you that sum from yesterday, plus a sizable amount for each shard you brought back. So I’m sorry to say you’ll only be making one job’s worth.”

“That’s fine.” Jake replied solemnly. “I own a ranch, money ain’t too much of a problem.”

“How much would we each be making per shard?” Orsel asked.

“How much do you want?” Hope answered, slightly regretting the words that came out of her mouth.

The three stood in awe for a couple seconds, then immediately huddled together.

“This is big.” Vino whispered, “This is bigger than anything I’ve ever done before. What should we do?”

“She’s loaded.” Orsel boasted. “We-we pretty much have a blank paystub here.”

“Keep it respectable.” Jake said. “Let’s not bleed the poor woman dry— how about a thousand per?”

“A thousand? For what we’re gonna be doing?” Orsel protested. 

“That’s a good point, we should try to take the outside factors into account.” Vino proclaimed. “Jacob, how many shards of the Keystone are out there?”

“Uh, lessee here…” Jake counted on his fingers, recollecting the different parts of the world led by elementals. “I think there’s nine total… so you’d be fishing for eight of ‘em considering one’s safe here.”

“Alright, so eight… hoo… that’s a lot of shards and a long way to travel… still, I think, with all things considered, we should ask for at least two thousand per shard.” Vino deduced.

“Sixteen thousand for the complete collection? No, twenty. How many times does eight go into twenty again?” Orsel asked.

“Two and a half.” Vino answered.

“Alright, so 2500 star per shard…” Orsel pondered the amount. “I dunno, I think that seems fair… That’s like a year’s salary! Jake, you think that’ll be enough?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” He answered. As Vino nodded in agreement as well.

The trio turned back towards Hope.

“2500 Star for each shard!” Vino demanded.

“Done!” Hope agreed sunnily. “Meet me up in the throne room, I have something to show you.” She blipped away, the party hearing the door open at her arrival.

“I’m a bit worried at how fast she agreed to that.” Vino pondered.

“I still think it’s a good amount.” Orsel reassured. “Besides, things could always change.”

“Yeah, but for better or for worse?” Jake prodded as he began to ascend the steps.

The sight within the throne room was one that all three of them had come to accept— littered with spread-out and dangling papers and notes scrawled with evidence of some form or another. This time, however, Hope had some maps laid out on a makeshift table in front of her.

“Alright, This is how things are going to work.” Hope announced, picking up a pointer stick from nearby, bending it slightly between her hands. She slapped it down on the spread-out menagerie of maps in front of her. “These are maps of every major city and region where the keystone shards are being held. Study them. Memorize them. As far as you’ll be concerned, these are the only places in the world that matter.”

“Can we make copies of them?” Orsel asked politely.

Hope sat for a few seconds in realization.

“Yes, you can make copies of them, but I’m asking you to get a sense of where you’re going to be operating— these are capital provinces, where the grands, grandesses, and other important people will be doing business.”

While Orsel and Vino skimmed the contents of the maps before them, Jacob sniffed out the map of Tunnelis’ area of interest, and picked it up. One detail in particular caught his eye after around a minute of browsing.

“There’s my ranch!” He said, excited. “Right there, near the bottom left corner! This is great- I’ll get to do this from the comfort of my own home.”

“What do you suppose is going on so close to your house?” Vino inquired, sneaking a peek at Tunnelis’ topography.

“Nothing good, I bet.” Jacob answered, his melancholic demeanor returning. “There’s a lot of folks who want a piece of what the Dirtclumps have.”

“So you have all these maps, but what are we supposed to do? Do you have a plan for each of these places that we’re supposed to do stuff for?” Orsel asked, turning his map labeled “Aqu’arion” sideways.

“… Here’s the thing…” Hope answered pensively. “… While I do have general information, points of interest, and important people written down, I don’t have anything too in-depth set up.”

“So… No.” Orsel responded, flat-eyed.

“Things change!” Hope defended “Constantly! People are moving around and mixing everything up. I’ve tried to make plans, believe me, but then some little thing changes, and it gets all thrown out of whack. For all the time in solitude I’ve been given, I don’t know how much longer I’d need to make a plan for each of these places- I’m only one luman!”

“Alright, alright.” Vino accepted. “So I take it you’ll be expecting us to come up with these plans?”

“I’ll help where I can.” Hope replied, knocking on the scaffolding of the dayfinder. “The most important thing you’ll need to know about these maps are these spots— the drop points.” She pointed to a circled portion on each of the maps, out of the way of any civilized areas. “Once you have the keystone, bring it to this spot, and I’ll show up to retrieve it.”

“And how’re you gonna do that?” Jake queried. Hope blipped from one end of the throne room to the other in response. 

“One of the perks of being made of light.” She bragged. “Although, I’m gonna need you to pace yourselves between each dropoff- I have my limits.”

“Alright, go to these places, steal their keystone shards, and bring them to these drop points.” Vino listed. “Although, if I assume you’ll be staying here, how are we going to stay in contact?”

Hope made her way over to her radio- a misshapen contraption whose base component was scavenged from a home, with a veritable tree of metal implements sprouting from its anterior, serving as an improvised antenna.

“Waveform!” She answered eagerly, tuning the device on to hear misaligned static pouring from its speaker. “I’ve made a bit of a hobby out of it- if you come upon a communicator like this one…” She searched the papers near the machine, pulling one out with glee. “… Remember this frequency.” The symbols on it were foreign to Orsel and Jacob. These devices hardly ever abided by traditional measurements such as numerology, rather a complex system of glyphs regarding the internal mechanics of the device and how it should communicate. Thankfully, Vino recognized such mechanical intricacies, and pocketed the slip of paper.

“So… what else should we know? When do we head out?” Vino asked. 

Hope snatched the map of Tunnelis from Jake’s hand, laying it out flat on the larger table in the room.

“To answer your first question, Tunnelis has been rampaged by a company named ‘Maw’s Diggin’s.’”

“‘Rampaged’ is right. They’re a bunch of no-good, thieving…” Jake exclaimed, interrupting Hope. “Sorry, continue.”

“So, Maw’s Diggin’s is run by this lady right here.” Hope announced, plucking a portrait from the string-laden mess of evidence hanging above her. She then slapped it down on top of the map, revealing the face of a female terrian, wearing sunglasses, a hat, a checkered shirt, and a head of long, wispy roots tied behind her head in a ponytail. Jacob’s eyes switched to anger at the revelation of their suspect. “Maw- a terrian, and the daughter of one of the wealthiest terrian tycoons in recent history— the late Lazlo Wad. When we split the keystone up, he got the shard, and I imagine it would be in Maw’s best interest to keep an inheritance that important close by. When you get there, find out where she’s keeping it, and find some way to get it for yourselves— simple as.”

“Easier said than done.” Vino protested. “If she’s the boss of this place, there’s not one thing she’s not gonna have under lock and key— not to mention an entire workforce set out, doing her work and keeping their paycheck safe.”

“You’re smart people. You’ll figure something out.” Hope reassured. “As for your second question… would ‘as soon as possible’ work for you three?”

“I- Is it that bad out there?” Orsel asked. “And what about training? These guys only joined within the day— are you sure they’ll be ready?”

“It’s only going to get worse, and you have a long trip ahead of you if you’re even going to get to Tunnelis.” Hope explained. “It’s still up to you, though, leave when you’re ready.”

“Tomorrow, then.” Jacob offered.

“What?!”Orsel and Vino objected in unison.

“I’d say that’s soon enough.” Jacob continued, “I want to get this over with.”

“Impossible! We’re nowhere near ready!” Vino protested.

“I still have so much stuff I still need to pack just to survive that trip, and my invention, and-” Vino blubbered.

“We have the rest of the day.” Jacob clarified. “I’ll help if you need, but if things are as bad as Hope says, we shouldn’t spend any more time here than we need to.” He slithered out of the throne room doors to perform his share of the preparation.

“As much as I don’t like it, he’s right. We shouldn’t be stagnating here when there’s work to be done.” Orsel admitted. 

“Still, a little heads up would’ve been nice.” Vino added

“I can help you with what you need to bring. I’m sure I have a spare backpack around here.” Hope offered

As the day stretched onwards, Orsel, Vino, and Jacob made their preparations. Orsel had returned to the barracks, throwing himself (within reason) into his training, hitting dummies with his crookshank in frustration. Hearing the noise of pitch iron slamming against wood, Jacob decided to investigate. He entered a gruesome scene of exactly one knocked-over dummy, and Orsel wrenching his crookshank’s pointed end out of one that was still standing.

“Hey there, bud. How’re you holding up?” Jake greeted cautiously.

“I don’t know.” Orsel sighed, giving up on retrieving his crookshank. “This is all happening so fast, I don’t think I’m ready for any of this.”

“Having second thoughts?” Jake prodded.

“Yes… No… Maybe, I don’t know.” Orsel fumbled. “I want to do this. I want to help Hope with putting the Keystone back together. However, I don’t know if I’m ready to do it just yet. It’s why I’ve been so focused on training, so I could be better at… Well, anything. I’m not strong or tough— heck, you guys could probably get along just fine without me.”

“Well, ready or not, this was your decision.” Jake proclaimed, yanking Orsel’s crookshank out of the dummy with a hearty tug. “You’ve had time and time again to go back on it, and in spite of everyone’s protest, you still stuck with it.” He inspected the point, comparing it to the sharpness of his claws. “Now, why is that?”

“I don’t know.” Orsel muttered, shuffling his tendrils. “Maybe I’m just stupid.”

“You are not stupid.” Jake encouraged. “You’re determined. I mean, sure, some could say you’re stupidly determined, but I think you’ve stuck with this because somehow you know you can pull this off.” Jacob handed Orsel’s crookshank back to him. “As for us leaving tomorrow, don’t worry about not being ready. When the time comes for important stuff, you’ll find that nobody ever is.” As Jacob left, Orsel stared at his crookshank, soaking in his friend’s words.

He felt ready. 

CHAPTER 42: Mindlessness

“A… This is the letter ‘A’, do you understand?” Eyve sat holding a slate with the shaydonian letter “A” written on its surface in chalk. She was met with nothing but horrible screeching from the cage before her, her hood being blown back and soaked with errant drops of water.

“Alright, let’s try numbers. One. Two. Three” She announced, drawing tallies on the board in response to her explanation. “Can you say ‘one’?” She requested, tapping the board with her metallic hand. The same response came about, Eyve wiping her face of the expelled water. She checked off a box with a large, red ‘X’ on a sheet of paper on the back of the slate.

“You truly are a credit to your kind.” She sneered, wringing out some water on her cloak. “I swear it’s something about water that makes you stupider than the others.” She said, gesturing to the other cages. “I can’t believe we lost a perfectly good brai—” 

“Hello!” A voice from behind her sunnily greeted, starling, the poor scientist.

“LUSA!” Eyve scolded the intruder. “This is a restricted area, get out of here!”

“What? An esteemed member of The Seven can’t observe the progress of another’s work?”

“Just because Yuttoguln shone a light on this place does not mean you can intrude on our work like this.”

“And what work is that, exactly?” Lusa taunted, mockingly leaning towards the cage. “Playing teacher for these monsters?”

The cage’s tenant, a half-shadow, half-wind monstrosity, took offense to the claim as it rattled the bars and snarled at her, blustering and thundering in anger. Lusa stepped back, wide-eyed at the response as Eyve, unimpressed, plugged her arm into the cage’s socket and administered a shock, quieting the abomination.

“These monsters” Eyve retorted, dislodging her arm from the socket, “Are our future. Nigh-unkillable behemoths capable of great devastation beyond anything our military forces are capable of.”

“This— this is the real deal then, huh?” Lusa observed, reconstituting herself.

“Doesn’t get any realer.” Eyve replied, jotting something down on her notepad. “Now please leave. I have plenty of work to do- Ven’s making sure of that.”

“I take it she’s still a slave-driver, huh?” Lusa smirked as she ascended the stairs.

“We aren’t friends here, Lusa.” Eyve threatened, making her way to the next cage in line. She turned back to see with pleasure that the unwelcome visitor had left as quietly as she arrived.

CHAPTER 43: Getting Ready

Hope and Vino were the busiest of all back on Lum, having made a day out of copying maps and preparing a survival kit for the fragile flauna, complete with fertilizer, plenty of canteens of water, and some plant spray she had lying around. While the other two were gone, they laid sprawled on the floor of the throne room, tracing out pictures and maps the flauna would need for his upcoming journey.

“So, what’s on your mind?” Hope prodded, rifling through some scrolls in a pile to her left.

“What kind of question is that?” Vino responded, pen in hand, attempting to draw a curve on a sheet of paper before him as smooth as the one to the right of him. “What isn’t on my mind? I have to prepare for a hike tomorrow that’s probably going to kill me, then I’m going to be spending the next few cycles of my life on the run from the law again.”

“I’m just trying to make small talk.” Hope admitted. 

“Well, I believe it should go without saying that I’m a little preoccupied at the moment.” Vino snapped, still troubled with drawing his line. “Something as big as what we’re doing requires preparation, and preparation requires time. I’m afraid I’ve been given neither for what we’re about to be doing.” Hope scooted towards Vino and gestured to the reams of evidence sprawled throughout the room.

“Well, what about all this, huh? It might not be everything you need, but it’s still-”

“No, no, it’s not that. I’m talking more in the… physical sense.” 

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mea— Look at me! I’m a plant! At least partly so. A flower, no less; The universal symbol of weakness and patheticism!” My arms are thin as sticks, weak chin, heck, you saw me when those shayd came here— they wiped the floor with me!”

“So?” 

“So, let’s just say I’m not exactly the most durable or impressive one here. I need water, sun, and dirt to live- and all you guys need is a good night’s sleep! Did you know that when I came here, I passed out from dehydration? Jake and Orsel had to drag my sorry hide all the way to this city while I was unconscious. Orsel was right- I’m in no shape to be going just yet.”

“You know, I’d take that less as a sign of weakness…” Hope said, holding Vino’s pen and helping guide the curve he was drawing, “… And more as a reminder that you have people who are willing to help you no matter what.”

 “It’s still humbling.” Vino remarked. “And not in a good way, either. Intellect and understanding are what I’ve relied on my whole life, and with every problem I’ve ever had, I’ve had it to guide me. When things fall outside that realm, well… it worries me.” 

“We all have our strengths and weaknesses.” Hope consoled. “I of all people know that, and the sooner we learn to accept it, the better.”

“I just want to get this done.” Vino suggested, tapping the paper he was working on with his pen. “Maybe after this I can work on the V-bow for a bit. The inventory in that workshop is a bit lacking, though.”

“The what?” Hope inquired.

“Oh, it’s that… thing I’ve been working on. My invention.” Vino admitted. “The name’s still a placeholder, though. I know it sounds stupid.”

“I think it sounds lovely.” Hope encouraged. “It pops, you know?”

“I dunno, maybe eventually I can build a brand for myself, making stuff like that…” Vino daydreamed, “Assuming I don’t kick it during this job.”

“You’re a very smart flauna, and you have very talented friends.” Hope proclaimed, folding a map into quarters. “I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll succeed.”

“Yeah, are you saying that because it’s true or because you need it to be true?” Vino sighed. Hope paused for a moment before speaking again. 

“It’s getting late. I’ll finish this stuff up. Why don’t you get some rest, talk shop with your friends?” Vino looked a little puzzled at the offer before Hope insisted and shooed him away. As Vino stepped outside the door and slowly descended the multitude of steps, he took one last opportunity to soak in the beauty of the shattered city of Lum, basking in the last light of day. Despite the city’s age, their combined presence had had a noticeable impact on the place, even if it was somewhat small. The streets were a little cleaner, the homes they had stayed in were kept a little more tidy, and his workshop’s lone chimney billowed furnace-fumes into the air, proving that this place wasn’t as dead as it was made out to be— although Hope’s existence played into that factor long before their arrival. Out of everything out here, Vino was going to miss that workshop the most; the one hope he had of earning an honest income would unfortunately have to remain here, as the remaining shell of some unknown craftsman’s hard work and turmoil. 

He made his way towards it the moment he left the steps to Hope’s throne room, taking an opportunity to appreciate the city’s aesthetics up-close and personal. He moseyed past the piles of rubble Jacob had amassed and put to the sides of the streets, and brushed through the tracks and crookshank scratches Orsel had left on the paths and buildings throughout his training. Eventually, he arrived at the workshop. It was a far cry from how it was about a week ago, the flauna putting in a hard time’s work in order to make it a suitable workplace. His V-bow sat near-completed on his bench, while the kiln continued to burn cozily in the corner. It was a welcome furnishing for Lum’s cold desert nights, after all. After marveling at the progress of his workspace, he got straight to work amassing some of this building’s more worthy supplies, piling them on the workbench. His V-bow, of course, was an auto-include for the menagerie, then some various tools like a pentawrench and some graspers, common tools for fastening bolts and securing a grip on parts, respectively, as well as a hearty roll of bub tape. He also brought along a bottle of glue that had been tucked carefully away within the building’s cupboards. Not only was it handy to have an adhesive like that ready, but considering he would be traveling with two elementals— beings whose lives depend on a fragile core at their center staying intact— a provision such as this would certainly prove helpful. Speaking of which, Vino’s packing had suddenly become less solitary.

“Thought I heard some noise in here.” Jacob greeted at the doorway of the workshop. “You all set for tomorrow?”

“Ehh… Sort of.” Vino drooped. “It’s hard to pack everything you need on such short notice.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Jacob replied, scratching the back of his head. “But I think we’re ready for it, right? I mean, between your tinkering and Orsel’s training these past few days, we could have a fair shot.”

“You might be right.” Vino sighed. “It’s probably not the best idea to stay out here anyways with all the world’s developments. It’s just this trip to Tunnelis is going to be… well… difficult.”

“Well, we’ll do everything we can to help each other.” Jake affirmed.

“Hey, what’s going on in here?” Orsel interrupted, entering the workshop.

“Vino has some concerns about leavin’.” Jake clarified.

“Yeah? Well, I don’t blame you. It’s gonna be hard, but hey! At least you’re not alone.” Orsel reassured. “Sometimes an extra guy on the job is what keeps the whole thing afloat.”

“Or at least leaves a survivor to tell the tale.” Vino chuckled, grabbing a handful of homemade bolts. “Look, it's getting late, and I need some rest for what’s coming up.”

“Say no more.” Jake answered, eyes closed and palm forward. “Matter of fact, we could all use some shuteye. We have a big… well… who knows how long this is gonna take…”

“A big, indiscriminate amount of time ahead of us!” Orsel said matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, that.” Jake responded. “I’m heading on out. Let me know if you need anything.” He slithered away, leaving a trail of dirt on the just-swept floor. Vino’s face soured a bit at the mess he had made, but was interrupted by Orsel.

“You feeling okay?” he asked, tilting his head and lowering his crookshank. “You seem a bit down.” 

“I’m fine, Orsel.” Vino reassured lacklusterly. “I’m tired, I’m still packing, and I have a lot to think about right now.”

“I know how you feel.” Orsel confirmed, sitting down on a nearby chair. “This is a big deal— for all of us, really. We’re going to be sneaking around, stealing these Keystone pieces, living on the lam for who knows how long.”

“I have to admit, it’s a particularly hard sell.” Vino replied, picking bits of scrap out of a pile that seemed useful to him. “It’s a miracle any of us agreed to do this.”

“Yeah, but if we don’t, who else will?” Orsel defended. “It doesn’t look like Hope knows too many people otherwise. Not to mention, she’s right— things are moving forward, and Shaydon’s doing a whole bunch of bad stuff out there as we speak.”

“Well, I suppose there’s worse things than being part of a cleanup crew.” Vino assured. “I think I’d like to start getting ready for bed now. As you put it, we have a big… unspecified amount of time ahead of us.”

CHAPTER 38: A Celebratory Proposition

As the early afternoon sun shone its light upon the city of Lum, its three temporary subjects found themselves invited to the faithful archives within Hope’s domain. They walked through the hallowed halls, taking in the scenery out of both appreciation and general confusion. 

“Why do you think Hope brought us all here again?” Jacob queried. 

“Whatever it is, she seemed pretty excited.” Orsel chimed in. “I just hope I don’t have to drink any more of that tea.”

“I think I might have an idea.” Vino suggested, Hope’s predicament fresh on his mind.

“What do you mean?” Asked Orsel.

Hope’s form appeared suddenly before the trio, eyes flush with excitement.

“Welcome, esteemed guests! I hope you’ve arrived with wide eyes and low spirits, because I have something truly wonderful planned for today!” Her presentation seemed much more formal than usual, like that of a proper hostess, instead of the life-weary grandess the three guests have known for about a week or so. “Follow me for a time you’ll never forget!” She ran ahead, down a hallway to the group’s left, disappearing out of sight. Her head peeked back around the corner in anticipation a few seconds later, then disappeared for good.

“Yup, she’s gone off the deep end.” Jake announced, signaling the two to leave. “You guys want to do this, or…”

“I’m curious.” Vino responded. “Let’s at least humor her.”

Orsel wordlessly led the two forwards. A time he’d never forget sounded like a tantalizing offer.

As they traveled down the hallway, they were eventually met with the sight of a large, round, sun-lit room that looked as though it was tailor-made for an excursion like a ball or a gala. There was a table at the far end of the room, fitted with a dozen or so bottles of colored liquid, and two other tables filled with what looked like cans and… oddly enough, dirt, respectively. Enchanting music filled the air from a box-shaped device that lay to the left of the tables. Colored banners hung from the walls and ceiling, trying their hardest to portray this as a festive environment. All in all, it looked like a somewhat underwhelming party, but it was still an interesting sight to say the least. 

“Ah, welcome, welcome!” Hope greeted her guests, shaking Vino and Jake’s hand. “I’m so glad you could make it! Relax, drink, eat, have some fun! Go out and, uh, mingle.” She put her hands on her hips, pointing her eyes towards the tables and back towards the group.

“What is all this?” Jake asked, scratching his head.

“Well, I’ve seen the work you’ve all been putting in, so I thought I’d throw you boys a little shindig.” Hope presented, arms out. “I, uh, used to have people for this, so you’ll have to forgive the appearance, but I think it came out alright.” A wash of hesitation came over the three guests as a purple banner detached itself from the ceiling and sputtered to the floor.

“… You hate it, don’t you?”

“No, no, no!” The newcomers clamored in unison. “It’s great! We’ll, uh, try it out.” Jacob and Vino split up towards the tables, while Orsel, lagging behind, made a slog over to the music player, beginning to awkwardly shuffle his tendrils around, dancing. 

“What is this stuff?” Vino asked, inspecting the colored bottles at the central table. He picked one up and read the label. “Prizz?” He asked, confused. “I’ve never heard of this.”

“It’s the best!” Hope explained, suddenly appearing behind Vino, shocking him. “It comes in over 10 unique flavors, each better than the last— produced right here in Lum.”

“I haven’t seen prizz in years— didn’t think there was any left.” Jacob claimed.

“You’re a fan?” Hope asked, enthused.

“I remember liking lowlight a lot.” Jake said, picking up a brown-colored bottle labeled with the same flavor. He popped its cork and took a hearty swig. He swished it around his mouth, savoring the flavor.

“So, what do you think?” Asked an eager Hope.

“Ehh, a bit too sweet for my liking.” Jake explained, setting the half-drunk bottle back on the table. “Nothing wrong with that, I just prefer jej a bit more— it’s got a nice burn to it when it goes down… I miss it.”

Vino, with significant effort, popped the cork off of a bottle of prizz green, taking a cautious sip— the sweet flavor was overshadowed by a bitter taste that overwhelmed his senses

“OUGH” He coughed, spitting up the fizzy liquid. “That’s certainly…ngh… something.” 

“Green’s a bit of an acquired taste.” Hope explained, uncorking a yellow bottle. “Blue and orange are the best flavors to start off with, in my opinion.” She took a long, long drink from the bottle, emptying it completely after around ten worrying seconds. She clunked the now-hollow container on the table, Vino and Jacob wide-eyed.

“If you’ll excuse me.” Hope said after exhaling from the momentous sip, walking over towards Orsel.

“Wow.” Jacob said blankly.

“Yeah, that was just… Hey, I have a question.” Vino asked, diverting the subject. “It’s another elemental thing— since you guys don’t have any organic parts, how is it that you’re able to do things like eat, drink, and taste? Can you smell, too?”

“I don’t think anyone knows how we taste and smell stuff.” Jacob explained, taking another sip of prizz lowlight. “How we do things is still a bit of a mystery to most. You’d be better off asking how we hear and see and touch.”

“Fair enough.” Vino conceded. “But when you eat something, where exactly does it… go?” Vino gestured towards his body, guiding one of his hands from his head towards his lower area. “For example, most of us organic beings have something called a digestive system, wherein whatever we eat has nutrients extracted from it, and then whatever we can’t use is extruded as-”

“For Gol’s sake!” Jake interrupted, shielding his face with his claws. ”I live on a ranch, I know how you folks work… But to answer your question, whenever we put something in ourselves we don’t intend to keep, our cores kind of… eat away at it, sort of another way to get our energy for the day besides our nightly rest ‘n all that.”

“So, do you need to eat, then?”

“Not really, no. We can get pretty much everything we need from just resting, but a meal can help give us a bit of a boost. One hearty meal is around one hour of sleep.”

“I see, but what do you mean your core eats away at things? Is there a limit to that?”

“After a few minutes, it dissolves stuff like meat and plants, yeah. I think the core itself knows its limits, though. If it’s somethin’ like a bone or a stick, it won’t touch it.”

“And, uh… How exactly do you get rid of… leftovers like that?”

“We keep ourselves clean. I’ll leave it at that.”

“Yep, good point.” Vino cut off awkwardly. “I… think I’ll hit up that dirt table. Need to freshen up a bit.”

“Hmph.” Jake grunted, taking a second-to-last swig of his prizz lowlight.

As Hope walked closer and closer to Orsel, he made it seem more like he was minding his own business, dancing to the music.

“What are you doing?” Hope asked him

“I-I dunno, it’s—” Orsel mumbled as he stopped dancing. “I’ve only ever seen people dance on the visbox, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Here,” She smiled, grabbing two napkins from a nearby table and taking Orsel’s hands. “This song is a four-step. I can show you how you dance to it properly.” There was still a slight stinging sensation for both of them as they touched, even with the dampened interaction, but Orsel’s trained resilience to light proved itself useful at this moment. The dance wasn’t too complicated, especially with Hope leading, but Orsel did have some difficulty with attaining a rhythm with his tendrils.

“You know, I think this is the first party I’ve been invited to.” Orsel admitted. “Are they always like this?”

“No.” Hope sighed, surveying the room as Vino familiarized himself with the dirt table. “There are usually a lot more guests… And the room’s usually a bit cleaner, too.”

“Well, it’s the best party I’ve ever been to… by default.”

“Thanks.” Hope smiled. “Maybe someday I could invite some more people, y’know, once this is all over.”

Time passed as the noonish sun began to turn its first tinges of orange and the shadows started to angle themselves. The dozen bottles of prizz had dwindled down to a single yellow one, currently being downed by Hope. After some feasting, drinking, and dancing, the group had all but exhausted their options of what to do within this room, and boding themselves farewell was a choice that seemed to be more and more tantalizing.

“Welp,” Jacob announced, feigning a yawn and a stretch. “It’s been fun, but I gotta hit the old dusty trail.”

Hope, finishing off her bottle, clunked it onto the table and started a chase after the partygoers.

“Wait!” She stalled. “Before you leave, I have one last thing to ask you all… Well, Jacob and Vino at least.” Jacob raised his eyebrow in suspicion as he folded his arms. Hope blipped away, out of the room, returning slowly with a wheeled tray of three covered platters.

“What’s a party without a main course, anyway?” She joked, bringing it to the center of the room. “In all seriousness, though, I had a bit of an… ulterior motive in inviting you all here.”

Hope lifted the covers of all three of the platters, revealing a sizable sum of star on top of each one, spilling onto the tray. The eyes of the trio widened at the sum of cold, hard cash before them.

“I have new news, and an old offer to bring to the table.” Hope sternly announced, leaning forward to put her weight on her arms as they sunk into the star on the tray. “Shaydon is sending more and more patrol boats out through the world- I’ve seen it with my own three eyes. If my plan is going to work, it’s going to need to happen soon, and it’s going to need more people.” 

She grabbed a handful of star from the tray, plopping it back onto the now-collective pile. “As you can see, I will compensate you, with this being your first initial payment, if you would just please take this opportunity.” She asked, grasping her hands together. In response, Vino stepped forwards, fist over his heart.

“Hope, I’ll join your cause.”

“You will?” Hope answered, surprised.

“Yes. I may not agree with the… legality of this whole thing, or even be an elemental, but the amount of dedication you have towards bringing peace to this world, and the amount of respect and hospitality you’ve shown us is something that I feel needs to be repaid.”

“Well, I— Thank you. I mean, I’ll be the first to admit the party wasn’t all that, but—”

“I overheard you behind the workshop.” Vino confessed. Hope turned a bit pink with embarrassment, with the flauna soothing the feeling in his following words. “I’m the first to say I know what it’s like when things don’t go as planned, and if I can do anything to alleviate that, then…” Vino looked down at his fist, feeling the weight of the commitment he was about to make. “I’ll offer you my services.”

“Are you certain, even knowing, and not knowing, the risks ahead of you?” Hope asked purposefully.

“Yes.” Vino answered.

Hope nodded towards Vino, and turned to face Jacob.

“And you, Jacob. What’s your decision?”

Jacob’s expression did not change.

“I made myself clear at the temple— I will not.” Jacob answered sternly. “I’m sorry, your Grandness, but I don’t care how much scratch you’re willing to offer, or how noble you make it sound, it’s trouble through and through. I feel like the only thing this plan of yours is going to do is stir up even more problems for us along the way.”

Jacob turned towards Vino, his expression turning to one of concern.

“Come on, Vino. I thought you were smarter than this. Orsel, I get; he’s got no choice— but you?”

“Hey!” Orsel exerted, offended.

“Jacob, these are extenuating circumstances.” Vino replied.

“We’ll be breaking the laws surrounding one of the most sacred things in the world.” Jake argued. “It’s not something I want to mess with.”

“Well, something’s going to happen whether we want it or not!” Vino retorted. “If getting in trouble really was your biggest concern, you wouldn’t have helped us break out of Shaydon!”

“That was different, it was self-preservation.”

“And this is world preservation.” Vino stated, walking out. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get myself ready. Hope, thank you for the party— I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Orsel, Jacob, and Hope were the only ones remaining in the room— Hope making an effort to avoid eye contact with Jake, who looked particularly miffed.

“I think it’s time for me to leave as well.” Jacob announced. “I apologize for… all that.”

“Yeah… I should head out and get some rest.” Orsel added. Hope nodded in response. 

As they walked out together, Orsel struck up a discussion with Jake.

“Listen, I know it’s not in my place to talk about your decision—”

“You’re right— it ain’t.”

“Fine, I won’t- but I’ll at least talk about mine. I’m not doing this because it’s my only choice.” Orsel instigated, keeping up the pace with Jacob. “I’m doing this because I want to do something important for once in my life. I’m my own shayd— I can do whatever I want, and I want to do this.”

“I’m just a bit concerned for you, is all. I feel like Hope’s been taking advantage of you— doing something to yer mind. I mean, just a few days ago you were complaining about being treated like a henchman or criminal, now you’re flinging yourself into this full-stop.”

Orsel hung his head low.

“I see where you’re coming from— but I was more nervous then about fighting other shayd than what people would see me as… And some time has passed, things change. Between you and me, I think this could be my calling.”

“Really.” Jake answered coldly, eyes flattened.

“I know it sounds stupid, but working this close to a grandess, training for a mission that’ll save the world— It does sound larger than life when you put it all together.”

“If that’s how you think it is, then fine.” Jake replied plainly.

“Well, I’m sticking with it. The other day, Hope even offered me a bunch of star to go off and live on my own.”

Jake’s brow perked upwards.

“She did?”

“Yeah, but… jeez, that was a lot of star… I felt like this was more important.”

“So… You could’ve written yourself a free ticket anywhere, and you still decided to stick with her on this pipe dream?”

“I think, at this point, it’s a bit more credible than a pipe dream.”

“… Well, I guess folks are right about shayd being dedicated workers.”

Eventually, the pair made it to the base of the archive’s steps outside- a trek they’ve walked so many times they no longer found it as annoying. The sun was setting over the horizon as they parted ways, wordlessly.

CHAPTER 39: Target Practice

Vino had set up some bottles on a shattered sandstone wall outside his workshop, setting up a humble shooting gallery for his new crossbow. He took a shot at the left-most bottle, the bolt soaring over the wall.

“I swear, I recalibrated this thing.” He grumbled, fiddling with the settings. He fired another bolt, this one lodging itself square in the middle of the wall. Hearing the impact, Jake had finally tracked Vino down.

“There you are. What the hell were you thinking? You can’t go through with this.” Jake claimed as Vino fired another bolt- it banked off the side of one of the bottles, sending it rolling to the ground, unscathed.

“I meant what I said” Vino answered, his back still turned towards Jacob. “I’ve given it some more thought, and I’ve come to the decision that I want to help Orsel and Hope with this whole… Keystone business.” He adjusted a knob on his crossbow, making a mental note of its setting.

“Fantastic.” Chided Jake, his hand running down his face. “You think Shaydon hunting us down is bad, try the whole damn world!”

Vino pulled the trigger of his crossbow again, sending the loaded bolt flying forward, much higher and faster than any of the previous shots. He hastily turned the dial back to its original setting.

“I’m used to it.”

“What are you talking about?”

Vino held his crossbow before him in both of his hands, and turned back towards the terrian.

“Orsel’s not the only one who has nowhere left to go. You want to know what I do for a living?”

“Shoot.”

“Despite my current task, I am an inventor— at least that’s what I wanted to be. I wanted to help the world move forward, like the people who work over in Tallem.” Vino confessed, dropping his crossbow back down to his side. “Then, once I managed to get there, I found out they weren’t exactly looking for any more ideas. I just… I believe in this. I believe we’re doing something good, and I just hope that maybe this might get things moving again for me, you know?”

“Fine.” Jake grumbled, turning away. “Just don’t expect me to go off ‘n gallivant with you guys. I’ve spent my whole dang life on the straight and narrow, and I’m not gonna throw it away for some… daydream.” He slithered off where he came from, muttering angrily under his breath.

“I suppose there’s worse things to throw it away for.” Vino said once he had left, finally managing to shatter a bottle on the wall with his last shot.

As the day turned to night, and the others went to sleep in their own merry ways, Jacob remained awake. His mind was far too busy to be concerned with rest, and had returned to organizing piles of colored rubble from the destroyed homes around the city, this time working much more hastily than normal. Bricks were flung through the starlight with reckless abandon, until a large piece of rubble came up that Jacob, for the life of him, just couldn’t move. He rubbed his hands together, attempting once more to lift the stone, this time putting too much of his strength into the task and flinging it upwards, causing it to impact a still-intact roof of a home, sending it crumbling downwards.

“RRRRRAAAGGHH!” Jacob screamed in frustration, kicking aside a stone with his tail. “Nothing’s going right today.” He needed a way to distract himself. The two people he had grown close to— and the grandess of Lum, no less, were fixing to pilfer shards of the keystone— an artifact he and so many others had to thank for their lives— and he was expected to either sit idly by or worse… join them. Jacob was a careful individual, having, as he said before, slithered on the straight and narrow his whole life, only making exceptions to that when they were drastically necessary. Their group was still in Shaydon’s crosshairs, and lighting a fire, so to speak, with this task laid before them by Hope was only going to ensure trouble would find its way to them. Still, the new factors laid before him were what he was more concerned with: The patrols being sent out by Shaydon, the piles of evidence Hope had accrued showing Crux’s integrity was slowly eroding, and finally, the fact Orsel and Vino, the two folks he trusted enough to break out a prison with him, were involving themselves with this assignment— were they really that easily convinced, or was there some side to this whole thing he just wasn’t seeing?

His wayward mind, still pondering this predicament about the Keystone, eventually brought his eyes towards the exit archway of the city- and an idea shone within Jake’s head.

He would get some advice.

CHAPTER 40: Some Advice

Jacob made a pilgrimage to the keystone temple— a feat that was considered a rite of passage for some of the more evangelical earth elementals of this world, as they believed the keystone itself was the living matter of their creator, Gol. Jacob was familiar with these teachings, and held the deity high in his respect, but he’ll be the first to admit he hadn’t studied the subject and faith as fervently as most others, especially not recently. He remembered reading through the twenty-two-and-a-half stone tablets depicting Gol’s struggles in creating the world, his quest to tame it, and his untimely fragmentation, but it had been an admittedly long time since he last read the good word. It was how Terrians were, anyway— they had a tendency to pick apart the most popular teachings and use them as pick-me-ups throughout their lives, inviting words of strength and determination that helped them throughout their darkest times, and Jacob’s recent predicament was certainly no exception. It was the one thing that could help him right now.

He finally arrived at the great crater, mistakenly tripping and rolling down a decent amount of it, as the stars were unfortunately not luminescent enough to light the way as well as Jake had hoped. Thankfully, a glass spire broke his fall as he gracelessly slammed into its side. He grumbled as he regained his bearings, standing up to see the Keystone Temple, light pouring out of its gated door and half-shattered windows. Seeing the door, however, discouraged Jake somewhat, as he forgot that Hope still had the key on her… and that she was all the way back in the walled city. Thankfully, he knew enough about his body where he knew how to sneak into places like this. First, he bent the bars apart just enough where he thought his core would be able to fit through— a small task for someone with strength such as his. Next, he took off his shirt, dropping it through the bars onto the floor inside the temple. Finally, he simply walked forwards, through the bars. It was a bit of a slow process, the dirt, roots, and errant stones that made up his body shifting to accommodate his passage, but eventually he had made it all the way through. After recollecting himself, he made it to the pedestal the keystone sat upon, closed his eyes, and knelt before it.

“Shard of Gol, source of earthen life upon the face of this world, I’ve come upon a… predicament of sorts, and I feel as though you may be the only one who is able to assist me. I’ve been requested by Hope… you prob’ly know her, the grandess who lives round here… with reclaiming… well… your other pieces. On paper, this seems like, well, a good thing, but I’ve got a lot of conflictin’ feelings about the whole situation. Back when you were broken apart to serve the better interest and whatnot of the world, we came to accept having your form fragmented and shared amongst us… but it seems times are changing again, and apparently Hope thinks we need you back to your old self.”

There was a long silence before Jake spoke again, the words echoing throughout the room.

“My big concern comes with the law— y’see, we’re expected to steal back these fragments of your bein’, considering world security and all that, and I know time and time again the carvers you’ve spoken to have forbidden theft, and that’s a philosophy I intend to keep.”

“The trouble is, my two compatriots, one who ain’t fully familiar with your teachings, and one who doesn’t fit the… bodily composition of the rest of us elementals, are both fully geared towards Hope’s way of thinking, of disrupting the order we’ve set upon the world and planning on goin’ around, pullin’ off a chain of thefts to put you back in one place.”

“I’m worried for them. Not simply because of the danger they’d face out there, but whether or not they’d be forgiven in your eyes… Or maybe if doing this is the right thing to do, and if I’d be forgiven for not joining them— That’s another issue I have— I don’t know whether this is something you’d fully agree with. I want to be on the right side of things, so if you could answer me that, I’d be mighty appreciative.”

Another long pause came between Jacob and the Keystone, its humming bringing no answer to Jake’s query. Jake’s eyes clenched further shut in mild frustration as he requested the Keystone’s motives one last time.

“You’ve spoken to the carvers… you’ve spoken to many prophets whose likenesses are hung up and sculpted in the cathedrals of Crystolia… apparently you’ve even spoken to Hope… I may not be as devoted or important as those folks, but I’m kinda gunning for something here.”

After that, neither party spoke for the rest of the night, Jacob dissipating into slumber after about an hour of kneeling. He did not dream, but he did wake up the next morning feeling noticeably refreshed, and determined to make a decision by the time he returned to Lum.

As he walked, an errant thought raced through Jake’s mind of why he was out here in the first place. He was an escapee from Shaydon of all places— how he even managed to be caught by a nation he had nothing to do with for the past twenty-odd years was certainly a strange idea… which eventually brought him back to the evidence he had read earlier in his stay here, with that Maw’s Diggins’ folder. He had had some bad experiences with the company that folder talked about, considering it was in his home nation of Tunnelis, and he fully believed Hope’s claim that Shaydon had been funding them. Even if he left Orsel and Vino alone on this quest, and he went back home to mind his own business, he’d still have some fragment of Shaydon causing him trouble for the foreseeable future. With all this considered, he rushed back to Lum. He had made his decision.

It seems, throughout everything, the Keystone did provide Jacob with help making his decision… All he had to do was sleep on it.

CHAPTER 36: Times Goes by

  For the next three days, Orsel trained to become a thief— to become Hope’s hand, long deprived of direct intervention upon the world. He exercised his formative abilities, displaying improved endurance and flexibility to the point where, after exercising, the stress upon his core proved to be minimal… or lesser than average, at least, no longer passing out whenever he was stretched out or made to run a lap around the walled city. Hope kept a stern eye on his progress, making sure his “one more lap” or “a few more stretches” didn’t turn into another exhaustive retreat into his core. Orsel was also becoming well-versed in basic combat, knowing when to dodge, block, and swing at an opponent during opportune times. Hope was still a bit rusty on Shaydon’s martial arts techniques, so the training didn’t seem like it would reach an advanced mark anytime soon, but other than some sloppy footwork and overextension at some points, Orsel seemed as though he had some potential in becoming a fighter. Despite the library of scavenged weapons up for grabs, he never strayed away from his trusty crookshank, making sure to visit Vino for a sharpening or reforging when training got a little too fiery. One aspect Orsel seemed to pick up on quite naturally was when it came to stealth and espionage. Being a creature of pure darkness, Orsel found staying out of sight and taking opportunities to hide to be almost second nature. His background in construction also seemed to help, as his past experiences in having to traverse rickety, pre-built structures proved to help him in finding what surfaces and ledges were alright to support his minimal weight. Snaking across suspended ropes and scaling walls with the grace of an acrobat. He wasn’t perfect, still managing to almost fall off a roof or two despite his proficiency, but it was painfully clear that this was where his talents lied.

As for Vino and Jacob, they were finding other ways to occupy their time. It would still be a while until they left the city to go back to their lives, building up their strength and collecting resources for the long, long journey ahead of them. Hope was respectful of their choice to not aid her in her endeavor, was markedly impressed with how well they had been taking care of the place, and had no quarrel with them remaining in the city. (Secretly, she also missed having a community of people to watch over). Vino spent most of his time in the workshop, cleaning it up and returning it to its former functions, as well as tinkering with his invention. It had shrunk down somewhat, explained as an “aerodynamic change”, although part of the reason for that change came from him not wanting to haul the weight around anymore. What once was a metallic brick accompanied by a handle looked more and more like a modernistic crossbow, although some aspects of it required ironing out, as anything it fired had a tendency to veer violently off course (With one instance actually launching the bolt backwards!) He had healed from the violence the raiding party of Shayd had brought onto him, and was supping on the bounteous sunlight and fountain water that came with the territory for sustenance. The menagerie of plants within the palace’s archives proved to be a lovely source of dirt for Vino to sink his roots into, gaining some much-needed nitrogen and minerals to refresh his state of being.

Jacob took it upon himself to act as an informal guard for the walled city, patrolling it in order to make sure no more shayd were hunting them down. Thankfully, no more of the soldiers seemed to be coming, but as his father, Isaac Dirtclump, always said, “Seeming’s never a sure thing.” He also cleared out most of the larger rubble and misladen junk from the streets, keeping up his own strength independent of Hope’s regiment with Orsel. Although he wanted nothing to do with the Keystone, Jacob was still happy to help Orsel out with building up resistance to light. It would always be painful, but during their last session, Orsel managed to last ten whole seconds in the sun with his torso exposed, which was still somewhat underwhelming, but it was still leagues above what an average shayd was capable of. All in all, Life was slow, and it was a much appreciated change of pace from being stuck in a dingy cell or a 9-4 workday.

One fine morning, after a warm-up lap around the city, Orsel found himself at the doorstep of Vino’s workshop, this time in a much less exhaustive state than last time.

“Good morning, Orsel!” Vino greeted, lifting his goggles up onto his forehead. “Need another tune-up on your crookshank?” 

“Not today, no.” Orsel waved. “Just stopping by to say hello. You’ve been putting a lot of work into this, uh, workshop, huh?”

“Well, There’s still the odd shard of glass lying around, but yes, I am pretty proud of how this place has turned out.” Vino affirmed. “You know, once this whole Shaydon thing blows over, I think I might just stay here. Plenty of sun, steady supply of water, lots of real estate potential…”

“Well, it is rather peaceful.” Orsel contemplated.

“Maybe too peaceful. Why do you think we haven’t seen anymore shayd come this way?” He realized. “You’d think we would’ve been blown wide open after that first group.”

“Maybe Jake’s been taking care of them.” Vino shrugged. “He’s been awfully insistent about looking after this place— playing guard and whatnot.”

“Even so, you think he would have let us know if there were some intruders by now.”

“Probably doesn’t want to worry us with the… uh… gory details.”

Vino’s petals caught a faint mumbling from outside his workshop, getting closer by the moment.

“What’s that sound?” He asked Orsel, checking around his workshop for anything that might serve as a source— but his furnace wasn’t lit yet, and his trinkets and crossbow were currently immobile. Orsel peered his head out of the doorway to find the source of the noise, frantically pacing around,

“Ah, it’s just Hope. She’s probably looking for me, so I can start my training. I’ll see you later!” Orsel bode farewell as he stepped outside.

“Try not to hurt yourself.” Vino lazily replied, returning to his workbench.

Orsel trotted up to Hope, finding that she was currently in a state of distress, mumbling incomprehensibly.

“Ohhthisisn’tgoodthisisn’tgoodIgottadosomethingbutthere’snotimeweneedtoputthisdamnthingbacktogetherohhwhydidiwaitsolongthisshouldn’tbehappeningthisshould-”

“Uh, Hope?” Orsel interrupted. “Is— is everything okay?” The grandess snapped her gaze towards Orsel, turning silent as her three piercing white eyes met his own. A few seconds later, that silence was broken with four words. 

“We need to talk.”

Back in the workshop, Vino had taken a wrench to his crossbow, trying with all the hope within his chlorophyll-and-mycelium-ridden heart to make it perform its one primary function— to get it to fire in a straight line. Apparently, however, one quick turn of the spanner was all it took for it to perform its intended task— although the resulting direction was unfortunately vertical rather than horizontal.

“Oh, come on!” Vino griped as he watched the bolt arc and fall, clattering onto the workbench, he grasped it with his leafy hand and plopped his head onto the table in misery— his wallowing cut short when he heard a familiar sound from outside his window.

As he got closer, he recognized the voice as Hope’s and… Orsel’s? He peeked over the sill to get the full picture. As he suspected, the two were conversing in a somewhat panicked manner.

“Are you absolutely sure? They can’t be anything else?” Orsel asked, pacing around.

“I saw it, plain as day.” Hope said, hunching over. “They sent out around a dozen raiding parties, all over Crux, this morning alone. I was right! They’re doing something big, and they’re doing it now.” I haven’t gotten a chance to use the daylooker in so long, who knows how many they’ve already sent by now.”

“So what does that mean for us?” Orsel asked, “Is there anything we can do?

“I’m afraid not.” Hope said. “Sure enough, this is going to tip off everyone on Crux, and security’s going to tighten up everywhere. I’m not sure if we’ll even be able to pull off the plan with the Keystone at this point.”

Orsel turned his eyes downwards in thought, tapping his crookshank against the sandy ground.

“We’ll figure something out. We have to! I’ll train even harder if I need to, if time’s that important…”

“I’ll take care of it. Just… take another lap, or something. I have a lot of new angles to consider.” Hope sighed, brushing back her hair.

Orsel slunk away, looking back at Hope as she seemed lost in thought again. Vino heard the pitter-patter of his tendrils encircle the building back towards the front, then lower in volume as he scuttled away.

“UGH!” Hope groaned, her stance almost going limp with anger. “I was SO CLOSE! I can’t believe I waited this long.” She picked up a nearby stone. “The one, damn shot I get to make this work, and now not only am I understaffed, I’m on a deadline.” She threw the stone at the wall of Vino’s workshop at the last word, the chunk of earth-shattering on impact against the flat surface. He ducked a little further below the window at the sound of the impact. “Urgh, I can’t do this alone… And neither can he. Maybe I should call this whole thing off? No, no, no, I’ve come so far, and I can’t…” She gripped the sides of her head, pacing around. “You’d think the other two would’ve…” Hope took a deep breath, placing her palms outward and closing her eyes. “No, respect their decisions. You’re not their Grandess, remember that— They’re having a hard time, too.” A flash of yellow pulsed through her body, a mark of inspiration that only came when a luman mind came up with a bright idea. “But maybe something can be done…” She blipped away, surprising Vino, who sat down with his back against the wall, dragging as he slid against it. He took his goggles off and wiped his brow in stress— this was a revelation, to say the least.

Vino, with his newfound knowledge of Hope’s desperation and the ensuing news of the status of the world, walked over to sit at his workbench, but could not bring himself to work— too many factors were buzzing around his pollen-riddled head. If Shaydon was really making a larger-than-life move right now, Orsel would have a difficult time in his coming job, and Hope will find herself more stressed than ever. He made his decision not to be involved with the Keystone clear back at the temple, but his decision, much like Jacob’s, prioritized personal safety and sanctity. This job would involve the theft of some of the most sacred and revered objects in Crux’s history. By all logical means, they meant nothing to an organic being like him, but a great deal of the world’s population held them in high regard, and they’d no doubt have an axe to grind against anyone who would mean harm to their precious shards.

Still, it seemed as though safety was a concept that seemed fleeting by the hour, no matter what choice Vino would end up making. Although joining the ranks of Hope’s grand mission meant charging headfirst into uncertainty and danger, it was at the very least a seemingly noble cause, and one he would be doing alongside trustworthy people. It was certainly a predicament, with an uncomfortable amount of morality involved for someone of Vino’s thought processes. He buried his face in his hands for a moment in frustration, then returned to work on his crossbow. A distraction was needed for the time being.

CHAPTER 37: An Old Friend

The seats of the council of The Seven sat empty, as the days in Shaydon required governance from all of its members working at their fullest capacity. One individual, however, stayed behind in the ornate building at all times, The Grand of Shaydon, Thead Cronec. Harbinger, Warmonger, Founder of The Seven, Son of Xetas, Heir to the Dozen, Conqueror of the Nomad Tribes, the Arthenian Grandom, and The Forty.

Janitor. 

He clutched his scythe in one hand, while holding a dust mop in another. While cleaning was certainly a lowly task, Thead considered it essential to maintain cleanliness within an important chamber such as this, and since none were allowed within its halls unless they were a member of The Seven or specifically ordered to be on trial, it left him to clean the room and surrounding hallways on his own as he had the most free time. At some times, he felt more like a prisoner than a Grand, wandering these onyx hallways alone, but he admitted that dusting and sweeping were therapeutic, especially considering the company he kept.

“It’s all happening all over again. The arrogance, the company he keeps, the prose. He’s worse than I ever was, I tell you.”

He glanced over at his scythe, still clenched within his unending grasp.

“Oh, please. If you had half a mind, you’d be riding his coattails instead of mine.” He said, leaning against the dust mop’s handle.

“Yeah, well what have you ever done for me, hmm? I built ALL of this before you snaked your way into my life. Even with the Incursion under my belt, it was still MY hand that led us to glory.” He pointed fervently at the scythe, the rod of his cleaning implement falling to the ground.

“Hmph, I know your tricks, trying to fire me up again. My time is done, and I’ve made that clear as crystal to you. I am going to spend the rest of my reign in peace. I’d give anything for you to learn something for once in your miserable life and leave me be.” He knelt down to pick his mop back up.

“Except that.” Thead sighed, continuing to push and clean. “Look, what you’re proposing is foolishness, plain and simple. Edrip may be an imbecile, but he’s still the smartest one here. He’ll fall off this fad soon enough. He’s got an… attention span problem, anyway.”

“Yes, he does have a… concerning amount of notes, but a few knickknacks from my glory days doesn’t mean squat. I just hope he doesn’t do too much damage before he falls out of this.”

“You know, nobody’s even around right now. If you’re going to keep talking to me, you might as well show yourself.” 

There was a long silence as Thead stared angrily at his scythe. He then decided enough was enough and kept pushing his mop.

“Forget it- I’m not giving you the satisfaction anymore. I have to wax this place anyway.”

CHAPTER 34: Pain Train

It was early in the morning, in the aching moments before the sunlight would wash its way over the ruins of Lum, Orsel, having taken another night’s refuge in one of the countless abandoned homes in the fallen city, found himself abruptly awoken by an all-too-eager Hope.

“You awake yet?”

 She said, holding a stack of papers as usual. “We have a busy day ahead of us!” 

“What time is it?” Orsel asked, affixing his cloak and rubbing his eyes.

“Time to start your training! We haven’t a moment to lose, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” She blipped away, only to return three seconds later, beckoning him over. The groggy Orsel had no choice but to follow her. Instead of leading the shayd to the archives and throne room, as was the standard, Hope led Orsel towards the barracks: A large, sturdy, dome-shaped building surrounded by old, decrepit weapons and armor. As the pair entered through its open-arched doorway, Orsel could clearly see that Hope had done some recent work to the place. There were combat dummies strewn about on the main floor, as well as a rack of better-kept weapons to choose from. Some looked like the same weapon Hope had chased him with on their first meeting, the hoop-shaped blade on a staff, others looked closer to curved and angled swords, and a mighty looking shield was proudly displayed amongst them.

“So.” Hope began, holding her own weapon from the throne room. “You want to help me on my quest to rebuild the Keystone.” Her demeanor was much less optimistic than before, her eyes glassed over with the same seriousness that Orsel assumed came with the profession of being a grandess.

“Well,” Orsel cleared his throat. “It seems like my best option at the moment, so—” He promptly found himself smacked in the arm by the staff end of Hope’s own weapon.

“I’m not going to sucre-coat it, Orsel, this may be the most difficult thing you will ever be asked to do. You will be traversing unforgiving landscapes—” She swirled her hoopmace above her head, kicking up a gust of sand from the training floor. “—Facing devastating foes!” She kicked one of the dummies hanging from the ceiling towards Orsel, who threw himself onto the ground to avoid it, dropping his crookshank in the process. “—and exercising every innate ability you have to stay undetected from the enemy.” The sand had settled, revealing Hope with her back turned towards Orsel. He reached towards his crookshank, only to suddenly find Hope’s hoopmace sliced down in the space between his hand and his tool.

“Knowing this,” She continued, looking down at Orsel with the bladed edge of her weapon still stuck in the ground. “Will you still follow this path?” With some hesitation, Orsel reached his arm through the hole in the hoopmace to grab the end of his crookshank and pull it through.

“Yes.” He answered, clutching his tool close. “Yes I will.”

“Very well, then.” Hope responded, slightly impressed. She began to pace around the room, mace behind her back.

“Rule number one! You are to do as I say, when I say, how I say— the road to shaping you into one of my soldiers will not be an easy one.” 

“Soldiers?” Orsel asked, surprised.

“Indeed.” Hope smiled. “If you’re going to be working for a grandess, then you will abide by the standards of one. Now—” She tapped a hoop hanging from the ceiling, “Let’s get started, shall we?”

To say the next few hours were grueling was an understatement. Orsel’s less-impressive-than-average body was punished at nearly every step of Hope’s rigorous training session. First up was stretching, as was customary for a workout— used to keep the body limber and malleable. Unfortunately, the label was a bit more literal than Orsel would have liked it to be. He had grabbed onto two handles, one with his hands, one with his leg tendrils, and found himself forcefully stretched like a rubber-band… For about three seconds, at least— as his lower tendrils gave out, and he snapped upwards like a slingshot against the roof of the building.

Sparring was even worse. Hope may have been an old woman, but an interesting fact about elementals is that they innately aged in an odd way, where they find themselves more powerful the older they are, and the grandess was certainly no exception. She was practically running circles around the poor shayd, even when training for the most basic moves like a crossbar block or forward thrust. He found his crookshank being knocked out of his hands time and time again, to the point where it was getting more than noticeably dented.

After that, however, came the endurance testing— wherein Orsel was forced to run laps around the width of Lum, in the beating afternoon sunlight.

He barely made it halfway through before he collapsed onto the ground, in front of Vino’s commandeered workshop. The plucky flauna finishing some chores around the place when he found his friend face-down in the sand-dusted road.

“Orsel, what happened?” He ran over, concerned.

“Nngh… Training… Proving self… Hope…” He groggily answered.

“Here, come inside for a bit, get you out of this light.” Vino shepherded Orsel into the doorway.

Orsel, despite his thoroughly weakened state, found that the workshop was looking quite homely— a glass kiln roaring quietly in the corner with shelves upon shelves lined with progressively refurbished tools and trinkets. There was still a massive pile of swept-up garbage and sand in the corner, but barring that, the place looked quite nice. He slumped into a chair, unknowingly dropping his crookshank on the ground with a mighty CLANG. Taking notice, Vino investigated it, seeing it was in much worse condition than when they left Shaydon.

“Great seed! Hope’s really putting you through the wringer.” He picked the tool up, causing its head to fall off onto the floor and clatter about.

“I just… need to… do better.” Orsel panted, struggling to keep his form. Vino picked up the crookshank’s head and took it over to a table near the kiln.

“I guess you guys really can get tired.” Vino observed. “You know, you can always back out if you want. You’re the only one of us doing this, and I have a feeling going after the Keystone is more trouble than it’s worth.” He lined the pieces of the crookshank up with one another, grabbing a hammer and set of tongs from a nearby drawer. “I know Hope made it seem important… And I know there’s a lot of evidence Shaydon’s doing something big… But you shouldn’t feel responsible for cleaning up after them. You’re free! Take a chance to live your life, it’s something a lot of people would give anything for.” Vino placed the crookshank near the kiln, heating and softening the metal of the shaft and head. He began to hammer them back together.

“I’ll never be free.” Orsel sulked. “You saw that gang that went after us a couple days ago. They won’t rest until we’re captured again.” Vino was adjusting some of the crookshank’s dents with his hammer and tongs.

“Yes, but—”

“And I’ve been on this world long enough to know that someone has to do the things no one else wants to do— and more often than not it’s usually me who has to clean up the mess or take the blame.”

“Orsel, you don’t have to do this.” Vino encouraged as he dunked the staff into a nearby trough of water, its metal cooling and sizzling in contact with the tranquil liquid. 

“Orsel!” Hope’s voice cried out from outside the door.

“Crud, I gotta go.” He shambled out of the door.

“Wait!” Vino yelled, presenting the repaired crookshank in his hands. “Whatever you end up doing… You’re going to need this.”

“Thanks.” Orsel weakly appreciated. As he left, Vino looked over at his unfinished invention— he had since taken a break from it to focus more on cleaning up the workshop, but it was so haberdashed that he didn’t know where to begin on improving it. He turned away to grab an empty trashcan and dustpan., prepared to work on the enormous pile of filth in the corner.

As Orsel stepped out of the workshop, he was immediately greeted by Hope.

“Ah, there you are. You want to take a break? I’m sorry if I’m being a bit hard on you.”

“No, no, it’s alright. Look, I’m good enough to do this! Watch!” Orsel proclaimed as he began to run a bit further, only to collapse from exhaustion after around six seconds. Hope blipped over and picked him up— Orsel’s form melting out from his cloak at her touch.

“I-I’m going to—”

Hope shushed him.

“You’re going to rest. You put in a lot of work today.”

“I—” But before he could make another syllable, Orsel’s body had completely melted away, darkness pouring out of his cloak and dissipating from sheer exhaustion. Feeling some remorse, Hope slung the cloak over her shoulder and walked back towards the home Orsel was resting in. On her path, however, she came across Jacob, who had taken it upon himself to start rebuilding some homes. There was certainly a limit to what he could do, given his experience and the tools at his disposal, but organizing the rubble by color and fitting some obviously-shaped pieces together was something he found accomplishable.

“Afternoon, Hope.” Jacob greeted, placing a huge, purple chunk of sandstone down on the ground next to its similar-colored brothers. “How’s it goin’?”

“Not too well, I’m afraid.” Hope answered, Presenting Orsel’s cloak. “Orsel got a bit tuckered out during training today.”

“Aw, hell.” Jacob griped. “You broke ‘im already?”

“It was a long day today.” Hope explained. “And besides, I’ve worked with shayd and Shaydon long enough to know that they’re fiercely dedicated workers. This is a good sign!”

“Yeah? Well, I’ve fought them long enough to know that this certainly is not.”

“How so?” Hope asked, tilting her head. “He’s building up endurance, right?”

Jacob grabbed Orsel’s cloak from Hope’s hand, inspecting and prodding it. 

“Shayd have a bit of a tendency to throw themselves into their jobs to the point where they sometimes… well… self-destruct. They’ve been raised to be validated for hard work, and pretty much nothing else.”

“That… does explain a few things.” Hope said, biting her finger.

“Yup, so if you want my advice, quit takin’ advantage of the little guy, or else what you call fierce dedication is gonna end up becoming fierce dead-ication.”

“Hey! I’m not taking advantage of anyone!” Hope snarled. “He agreed to this on his own terms!”

“Sure he did.” Jake agreed sarcastically, gently placing Orsel’s cloak on the ground before Hope. “Look, I don’t give a klam’s behind what you’re getting yourself up to, just keep him safe, and keep me out of it.”

Hope sneered at Jake as she walked away, but couldn’t help finding some truth to his words. Orsel’s training was already beginning to raise some bad habits within him, and she would have to find some way to circumvent that. For now, however, a nice rest would be greatly appreciated.

CHAPTER 35: An Advantageous Offer

The next morning, Hope awoke in her throne room to find Orsel waiting for her, in turn. 

“Morning, your Grandness!” He saluted. “I’m ready to start training. What’s up first? Laps? Technique?”

“Orsel, you’d tell me if I was pushing you too hard, right?” Hope asked, her cheek cupped in her palm as she reclined in her throne. Orsel froze at the question. After some thought, he resumed his motivations, attempting to divert the topic. 

“I want to learn how to do that spinning thing you were doing the other day, where you raise your staff over your head and—” He attempted to mimic Hope’s technique by twirling his crookshank over his head, only to accidentally fling it aside, the metal screeching against the fine stone floor. “Ope, sorry. Let me just—”

“Leave it.” Hope requested. “I asked you a question.”

“Oh, uh yeah. Why? Do… Do you want me to tell you when you’re pushing me?”

Hope leaned forwards so she was eye-level to Orsel, hands entwined as her elbows rested on her knees.

“Orsel, your friends are right. You don’t have to do this if you really don’t want to. From what I’ve heard and seen, you of all people deserve a true chance at freedom, and I’m willing to help you with that.”

“What are you talking about?”

Hope stood upright, beckoning Orsel towards a set of stairs far behind the throne room.

“Follow me.” She led the shayd down, deep into the great archives of Lum where the group had sipped tea during their first visit. It was during this time when Orsel was finally able to get a good look at some of the exhibits that were on display… The ones that weren’t covered in an inch-thick layer of dust, at least. 

“What is all this stuff?” Orsel asked, dusting off a plaque that stood before a large set of dusty antlers.

“These are the Faithful Archives.” Hope explained, “Named, of course, after Lum’s first grandess, Faith.” She spread her hands out at the expanses of the archives— shelves and displays placed in numerous layers upon one another, minerals, clothes, armor, machines, substances, and some things Orsel couldn’t even describe, all resting here, untouched. The menagerie had aged somewhat poorly over the years, but its splendor— especially while bathed in the light from the enormous stained-glass windows, was undeniable.

“She believed above all else that the preservation of culture and ideas was one of the most important values to keep, so she kept this archive of treasures and artifacts from all across Crux inside what would have normally been her palace.” Hope continued.

“That’s nice.” Orsel responded, not quite sure what to do with the information.

“Oh, that’s not even the best part. The real neat stuff is downstairs.” As they traversed deeper and lower into the temple, the shelves lined with the great and varied artifacts became more and more noticeably filled with dusty, nondescript rods. Orsel saw one that had fallen on the ground some time ago and picked it up. As he held it and rubbed the dust off of it, he saw that it was actually made of glass, textured with countless tiny marks he could feel on the tips of his fingers.

“What are these things?” Orsel asked, looking around at the filled shelves.

Hope grabbed the rod Orsel had picked up, and placed it between both of her palms. The engravings lit up as she held it, projecting themselves onto the ground and ceiling. 

“This is a talestaff. We use them to record stories and history about our world.” She placed the rod sideways into a mechanism and turned it on, adjusting it until the markings and carvings showed a more focused picture as they were projected onto a smooth, white wall. There were several pictures of what looked like other lumans displayed alongside words spelled in symbols that Orsel didn’t understand.

“We have thousands of these in here, detailing stories and important historical events from all over Crux.” Hope explained, turning the talestaff in the machine as the projection scrolled across the wall. “Most of them are about life here in Lum, of course, but I’d go as far to say it’s one of, if not the most comprehensive collections in the world.”

“So… is this what you wanted to show me?” Orsel asked, looking around at the shelves upon shelves of dusty, glass rods.

“Oh, no!” Hope clarified, turning the machine off. “Sorry, I got a bit sidetracked. It’s just up ahead.” The pair walked further and deeper into the archives, Hope’s body illuminating the way ahead. Eventually, they came to an enormous, circular door made from orange metal and inlaid with glass segments that looked almost like veins coursing throughout its surface. Hope placed her hand on the middle of the door, into an indent that looked like a handprint carved into a cylinder of clear crystal. As Hope’s hand fit into the indent, the glass that spanned throughout the door lit up in unison, and a great rumbling from the mechanisms behind the vault entrance was felt. The portal split into six segments, splitting outwards until a round arch revealed itself to the two visitors. Hope slowly stepped into the room, walking in a straight line towards its end. As she did, Orsel noticed rows upon rows of glinting metal in her presence, lining the path and walls.

 He couldn’t quite make out what it was as he stood behind, but once Hope made it to the end of the pathway, she pulled a switch on the far wall, opening four enormous portals of light on the ceiling. Orsel’s eyes stood agape at the sight of what lay in the room… Star! Mountains of it! More than he had ever seen before in his life… And more money than he would ever make in his life. Piles upon piles of the glittering coins lay before him, either in neat stacks or misshapen huddles. As Orsel attempted to step into the room, he found his tendrils could not support his weight, overwhelmed by the glittering goodness he was witnessing, and he knelt upon the floor, wheezing.

“Another part of Faith’s legacy was the centralized currency that Crux still uses to this day— star.” Hope taught Orsel, spinning a lone coin between her fingers as the star-shaped piece of glass embedded within refracted her ambience. “Needless to say, we have some of the one trillion total coins that were produced and distributed put aside for more… personal reasons.” 

“Wuh…wuh… wuh…” Orsel could barely string a sentence together at the sight of the pristine collection of coins. He began to grasp his hand over a small clump of them, but abruptly closed it as he came to his senses. “Wuh… wait. Why are you showing me this?” He asked, standing upright again.

“Orsel, when I asked for your assistance at Keystone temple, it was a rash decision, born out of desperation and haste, and I apologize. The last thing I want to do is place the burden of a task such as this on shoulders that aren’t fully capable.” Hope explained. “You have worked hard to secure your freedom from your predicament at Shaydon, and I would like to offer my aid in preserving that freedom.”

Orsel looked around as he grasped the concept of Hope’s proposal.

“You’re… going to give me star?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a very tempting—” Orsel hovered over a nearby pile of star, tendrils grasping towards it, until Hope’s choice of words snapped him into a state of realization. “Wait, what do you mean ‘shoulders that aren’t fully capable’? Do you think I’m not good enough to carry out your mission?”

“No, no, no, of course not!” Defended Hope, waving her arms about in protest. “Well… Actually, kind of. But liste—”

“I knew it!” Orsel said, turning around, beginning to walk out of the vault. “We should’ve started training sooner today. I need to get better, one way or ano—”

“NO!” Hope said, blipping in front of Orsel, impeding his path. She dragged her palm across her face. “Alright, I clearly didn’t think this through. What I’m trying to say is you don’t need to do this for me! Look around, I’m willing to give you the means to start a new life, unbothered by what you’ve faced before. Leave this dangerous job to someone who can do it!”

“I don’t…nngh!… Want your star!” Orsel yelled, resisting the allure of the glittering currency. “I want a purpose! Something besides putting up buildings every day, or being an outcast, hunted down by my homeland! What good’s this money going to do anyway? I didn’t even earn it!”

“Orsel, you trained yourself into exhaustion yesterday.”

“Only because I wanted to meet your standards! The standards of a grandess! You told me how hard it was going to be, and I still accepted, and all the star in the world isn’t going to change that.”

Hope stepped forwards, towering over Orsel.

“Are you certain? You’ll turn down this offer, and continue your service?”

Orsel stood on the tips of his tendrils in an effort to paint himself as intimidating, still only coming to about eye-level with Hope’s neck.

“I am.”

Hope’s composure faltered as she brushed back her hair in regret.

“I suppose I deserve this.” She blipped back towards the switch, removing the columns of light from the mountains of glittering star. “Come on, let’s head back outside.”

As they continued up the palace, revisiting the exhibits and archives, a thought sparked itself within Orsel’s mind.

“Hey, I have a question. Thead and Shaydon’s armies ransacked this place, right? If that’s the case, why is all this stuff still here? You’d think wanton destruction and pillaging would’ve been at the top of their list once they showed up.”

The sudden mention of these painful memories caused Hope to pause for a bit in thought.

“Thead… his motivations were a bit more… intimate than simply destroying everything. While his armies razed the rest of the city, he made it clear he would take on this palace on his own.”

“So, since he was just one guy, he couldn’t do a whole lot?”

“The damage he caused is more than just the loss of mere things.” Hope clarified. She looked wistfully at a yellow cloth she had been carrying in her pocket. “Lives were lost— every last one of them that I had sworn to lead and care for. All of them except for me.”

“Is that why you’re still around?” Orsel asked, not realizing the weight of his question until it was too late. “Sorry, I mean—”

“To this day, I still don’t know.” Hope sulked. “He either wanted me to continue ruling as a Grandess over a nation of dust… or…”

“Or?”

“Or he simply couldn’t bring himself to do it- that somewhere, within his blackened core, some shred of him still cared for me.” She wrenched the cloth in her fist, salmon with subsumed rage. “But either way, it’s the cruelest thing that has happened to anyone on Crux! I’ll be shattered like my kin before it ever happens to anyone again!”

Orsel could feel the pain in her voice.

“Well, whatever you need, I’ll be here to help.” He confided, putting his hand on her back. “It may be nowhere near the same scale, but I also know what it’s like to be betrayed. Nobody deserves that.”

“That’s something I’d like to discuss, actually.” Hope stated as she turned towards Orsel. “Your devotion towards the task ahead is quite appreciated, but I’ll be the first to say it’s a bit… much.”

“What do you mean?” Orsel queried

“Well, for one thing, you need to keep a healthier mindset when it comes to training. You can keep working hard, but just… don’t do it to the point your body starts falling apart.”

“Your drills are pretty taxing.” Orsel chided.

“Yes, this goes both ways— I’ll lighten up a bit on that front and keep your capabilities in mind. However, another thing— don’t feel like this is your only choice. I know I made the whole show back there, but my offer is still open to you, and I intend to keep it that way throughout your training.”

“I— well, that’s very kind of you.” Orsel stuttered, thinking again about that much financial freedom. It was a difficult thing to turn away, as star had been one of the biggest motivators throughout the majority of his life. Everything, especially in Shaydon, revolved around it in one way or another. That money, deep within Hope’s basement, could be used for essentially anything Orsel could imagine— a new home, far away from Shaydon, classy furniture, a new visbox, but another fact about the world Orsel knew is that offers like this were usually too good to be true. You never get something for nothing, especially not money. It was a fortune he had no right to earn, and if he had taken it, it would have served as a standing reminder that he wouldn’t have been good enough.

CHAPTER 31: An Inevitability

Vino sat upon the throne of Lum, swaddled in an old robe of Hope’s, guzzling down a bottle of fresh fountain water. On any other day, sitting upon this seat would have been a phenomenal honor, but now it was nothing more than an injury ward.

“How is that? Good?” Hope asked her guest.

“It’s alright, thank you.” The flauna replied. “Gosh, I hope the others don’t take me running off too harshly.”

The doors slammed open once again, two stair-worn elementals announcing their findings to the long-abandoned grandess.

“We got exactly one thing out of these guys.” Orsel claimed. “One of them overheard a meeting between two members of The Seven— Edrip and Rawth, saying that Shaydon’s soldiers needed to ‘be ready’ for something.”

“Well, it just might be one thing, but it’s big.” Hope said, as she got to work writing the claim down on a sheet of paper, sticking it amongst her other documents with yarn and pins. I mean, what else do soldiers prepare for other than war?”

“Parades, inspections, retirement parties,” Orsel listed off.

“Memorial services.” Jacob added.

“Yeah, that too. Although he also said Edrip was acting weird when Rawth wasn’t around.”

“Weird how?” Hope asked, curiosity piqued.

“Talking to himself, saying someone’s ‘will be done’, I don’t know, he didn’t see much.”

Hope murmured to herself a bit, drawing an ‘X’ on the paper she held, then scribbled it out.

“Well, that’s definitely suspicious, but now that just raises more questions.” She groaned, burying her face in her hands.

“Hey, what do we do with these guys now?” Jake asked, jingling the sack of shayd cores he was holding.

“Hmm? Oh, I don’t know, what do you think?” Hope answered, half-interested.

“I’m down for… y’know,” Jacob drew his thumb over his neck, mimicking a cutting sound.

“We can’t kill them!” Orsel protested, reaching for the bag. “It’s not right!”

“Orsel, these guys came here to capture us so they could do the same to us!” Jake said, pushing Orsel away. “It’s us or them!”

“Isn’t there anything else we can do, like give ‘em a scare or send them away?”

Jacob furrowed his brow, and looked between Orsel and the sack.

“I’ll be back, stay here.” He stormed off.

“Jacob, wait, please! They’re-”

“I’m not going to hurt them, I promise.”

“Then let me come with you.”

“Orsel, I guarantee you that you don’t want to see this. Now stay put… Get some rest, it’s late.”

Orsel trembled at Jake’s presence, hugging his crookshank close. He whimpered as he scooted away, towards the wall. It was awful, but there was some truth to Jake’s philosophy— they were wanted escapees who would be hunted for as long as that wretched nation saw fit. If their momentary freedom came at the cost of… disposing of some unwanted folks bent on taking that freedom away from them, then that would unfortunately have to be the case. As Orsel slumped down, back towards the far wall, Jacob left, sack in hand.

“I’m sorry, Orsel.” Hope consoled. “We all have difficult choices to make. I just hope that in time, you can learn to-”

“I want to rest.” Orsel said, turning around, burying himself in his cloak. Hope looked over at Vino, who himself was dozing off. After such a long day, joining the two in their slumber amongst her pile of documents seemed as though it was the best option for her.

Far beyond the outskirts of Lum, Jacob shuffled onwards, his tail leaving a wide track of sand in his wake. The night, still lit brightly with stars as it was every night, seemed somewhat darker somehow, although there still wasn’t even a cloud in the sky. Jacob slithered far enough to the point where Lum was barely visible, and tightened his grip on the sack, leaving barely enough room for the four cores to even rattle around in. He revved up his hand, the rotating glass claws glinting in the starlight as they ground against one another.

“Sorry, bud.” He said to himself, inching his spinning hand closer to the sack, “But this is just the way things are.” However, as the cloth sack inched its way closer to the whirring obelisk of death, Jacob’s resolve began to falter somewhat. He stopped, contemplated, and sighed. Despite their cruelty and their mission, these were still people— just wrapped up in a bad situation, is all. Still, something needed to be done.

“Dammit.” He mumbled as he poured the cores out of the bag. Almost instantly, the darkness from the night began to coil around the glittering, black gems as they formed into four cloakless shayd.

“What do you have planned for us next, dirtwad? The leader barked. “You’ve tortured us enough, interrogating us, keeping us in that sack.”

“Look.” Jacob frowned, “I’m going to give y’all a chance here, one you probably wouldn’t get under any other circumstance. Leave this place— go back to Shaydon, and never come back for us, understand?.” 

“Easy for you to say, Rawth’ll execute us for deserting the mission.” Another shayd piped up.

“Well, that puts you in an interesting situation, doesn’t it?” said Jake, revving up his claws. “Question is, are you more afraid of Rawth,” He began grinding his two spinning hands against one another, sparks flying to illuminate his underbit face, “or ME?”

“We don’t have to negotiate with the likes of a terr-an” The leader threatened, stepping forwards.

“It’s terr-i-an” the last shayd that was interviewed interrupted. “Three syllables.” 

“I— Ju—” The leader stuttered, taken aback. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll come with us.”

“Look where you are, idjit.” Jake said, spreading his arms out. “You ain’t got no weapons, leaders, or nothing, no one here to—”

The leader lunged forwards, with a formerly unseen rock in his hand. He managed to make the behemoth of a terrian lean back somewhat in shock as he climbed and coiled around him, striking him with it.

“FOR SHAYDON’S GLORY!” He screamed, still bashing at Jake, trying to find his opponent’s core. In spite of the onslaught, however, Jacob was more irritated than physically harmed, and grabbed frantically for the shayd as it zipped around his body. The other three shayd, emboldened, also began to move forwards to join their superior in glorious combat. Unfortunately, Jacob had finally caught hold of his assailant, wrapping his claws around the leader’s torso, and pulling out his core with his other hand, hesitating somewhat before crushing it into shards before the other soldiers, who had now ceased their advancement. The black shards scattered across the desert sands before him as Jacob stood immovably upright, facing the remaining three shayd.

“I’m not going to repeat myself.” Jake ordered firmly, pointing at the sack he held them in. “There’s your cloaks, now leave.”

The shayd kept their eyes locked on Jacob as they pushed one of their trio closer to the sack to retrieve their garments. They robed themselves, cautiously backing away from him, and once they were far enough, ran full-belt off into the dunes, hopefully never to be seen again.

Jacob stood alone for a long time that night before he went back to Lum.

CHAPTER 32: Something Special

The next morning had finally crept upon Lum, same as it had every day since its founding over five hundred years ago— with another certainty being that its leader— a luman grandess— was already hard at work. The escapees were growing somewhat more accustomed to life within this fallen nation, however. For a majority of the morning, Jacob had elected to patrol the streets, surmising that if one group of shayd was out here looking for their posse, more could very well be on the way. Keeping an eye out for any of last night’s survivors was also a priority he wanted to stay on top of, as well. Orsel also went out with Jacob, suspicious of his claims that he had let all the shayd from yesterday go free. His goal, however, was more to make peace with the prospect of death than to reprehend Jacob for his actions, in spite of how uncomfortable he was with them. Taking some time to build more resistance to light and pain in general with the noble terrian was also a greatly appreciated activity. Vino, still recovering, spent his morning within the throne room. He found helping Hope organize her ever-expanding theory was quite therapeutic, and picking the brain of a grandess of all elementals was a feat that few on Crux could boast. The day proved to be quite uneventful, as the afternoon eventually brought the pair of elementals to check in on their friend.

“How you holding up, Vino?” Orsel inquired, patting Vino on the back.

“Ehh!” He groaned in pain, “Still a little tender there… But I’m doing better, thank you.”

“You guys’ve been busy.” Jake commented, pivoting his head around to marvel at the work of the two throne-bound theorists. Hope smiled as she hung up a banner of notes on a yellow string of yarn.

“Well, Vino here’s been a big help.” she accredited, fastening it upon the ceiling. 

“You know, there’s one thing I don’t quite get about this whole theory of yours.” Orsel commented, scratching his head with his crookshank.

“I’m sure we have enough evidence here.” Hope challenged. “Shoot.”

“Well, it’s not really about the whole theory itself per se.” Orsel explained, “It’s just… If this is right, what exactly are you going to do to stop it?”

Hope blinked with realization as Orsel continued his line of questioning

“I mean, is there someone you give all this stuff to, and they go and stop Shaydon, or are there any other grands or grandesses you’re going to share this theory with?”

“There’s a lot of evidence here that shows doing that isn’t necessarily a good idea.” Hope clarified. “A good chunk of this influence Shaydon has on Crux has seeped to places all the way to the top. Telling anyone about anything could potentially alert them that the secret’s out, and who knows what would happen then.” She added one last note that had fallen on the floor onto the just-hung banner. “Until proven otherwise, I can’t trust anyone.”

“So… what are you going to do, then?” Vino asked. Hope turned back towards the curious few, grabbing a few brushed-aside papers.

“I’d like to show you three something special. Follow me.”

The group traversed down the inconvenient flight of stairs and around the perimeter of the archives, towards the back half of the city of Lum, with Hope leading the way. She looked wistfully at an abandoned bazaar and theater, the expanses of the city bringing back fond and sordid memories upon her anguished mind. A small, half-mile hike through the desert outside the eastern gate brought the quartet to an enormous, glass-encrusted crater in the sands, wide enough to encompass maybe half of the city of Lum in its area. In its center stood a humble and untouched temple that, although faded from time and exposure to sand and sun, seemed remarkably undamaged by the catastrophe that had struck Lum. 

“What is this place?” Orsel asked, marveling at the glass crystals that peppered the landscape.

“Never thought I’d be back here again,” Jacob commented. “This is the keystone temple.”

“The birthplace of elemental life.” Added Vino. “Over five hundred years ago, this odd rock, the keystone, shook the very foundations of Crux, changing it into what it is today, scorching, flooding, and sundering the world as we knew it- we thought it was the end times.”

“That sounds awful,” said Orsel.

“Well, after that was all said and done, you guys showed up— elementals, and well, that’s just how it’s been since then.”

“Huh, so that’s really where we all came from? This… keystone?” 

“Yup.” Jake piped. “One big rock made all this trouble.”

They arrived at the doorway of this hallowed ground only to find that it was locked to the public. Hope grabbed a key from inside of her robe and unlocked it, revealing its rarely-seen interior. It was a domed area, taller and wider than that of Hope’s throne room, decorated with finely-cut marble and brilliant metals. Six stained-glass windows segmenting the building adorned the walls, depicting images of the elements themselves. Some of them had portions that were missing or cracked, but the colors and shapes were still distinct enough to show what they represented. Beneath each window was a large, metallic bowl that, at one point, contained a small sampling of each of the respective elements— the only exhibit remaining intact being the bowl of light- a beam that shone down into a glass prism, refracting and reflecting the light as it danced around the platter. All the others had either been cracked, cast onto the floor, or flooded with the passing piles of sand that had inhabited all the other ruins out in this desert.

In the center of the room, however, on a grand pedestal nearly thrice the width of Jake, laid the oft-spoken Keystone.

Its size was fairly… undeserving of the sizable column beneath it, but its beauty more than made up for its lack of stature. It had a smooth, opalescent texture, colors flitting off of its surface and blending into one another with each moment spent staring into it. Its cleavage was almost perfectly cubical as well, the edges looking immaculately squared even with its considerable age. Orsel had never seen something so beautiful before in his entire life- it rivaled even his recent introduction to the stars in the night sky. He reached forwards to touch it, only to be interrupted by Jacob grasping his arm.

“Don’t touch it!” He ordered. “It’s sacred!”

“I thought it’d be bigger.” Vino observed.

“Vino!” Jake hissed, “This thing’s been through a lot.”

Hope ran her hand along the dust covering the pedestal.

“Before the Umbral Incursion began, The Grands of Crux caught Thead, the Grand of Shaydon, doing… something to the Keystone, and we decided it was too dangerous to keep it in one place anymore.”

She looked over at the bowl of earth, the rocks and crystals contained within now buried beneath a mount of sand, trickling in from the cracked window above.

“Our greatest mind, Archemicheron, proposed splitting it into several pieces to keep amongst ourselves— the leaders of the world. This is the piece I was left with.”

“So every world leader has one of these?” Vino asked.

“Every grand does, at least.” Hope clarified. “We do have the largest incentive to keep it safe, after all— our continued existence.”

Orsel pointed gently towards the Keystone with his crookshank.

“So, what does this Keystone have to do with your theory— how to stop this war?”

Hope rummaged through some of the notes she was holding.

“I want to put it back together.”

“Why? What’s that even going to do?” Jake protested. “You guys said it yourselves, anywho— if it was too risky to keep here in the first place, then what good would bringing it back do?”

“Because it’s who we are.” Hope explained, “We may be different, sometimes dangerously so, but we come from the same place. If there is any sight that could convince the enemies of our world’s balance that war and conquest are not to be sought, then the sight of the Keystone, in all its glory, is it.”

“And how do you know that?” Jacob asked, arms folded.

Hope pressed her hand against the face of the Keystone.

“It told me.”

Vino’s eyes bulged as he turned his eyes towards the floor, exhaling. 

“Hoo-boy.”

“I heard that! And it really did, alright!” Hope defended. “I heard it speak, clear as day. It told me: ‘Hope, the Keystone, the one which bears my life upon your world, it must be reunited.’ It was an old man’s voice, I know it was real.” The trio stood blankly at Hope as she desperately looked for their approval.

“It sounds crazy, it’s not something I have reams and reams of evidence for, but something as important to us elementals as this— even if it is for a reason that might seem insane— you can’t deny that it doesn’t mean something in the grand scheme of things.”

“How would you even go about that anyway?” Jake sighed. “You’re just gonna come out of hiding after all these years and ask the other grands, ‘Hey, let’s put the Keystone back together, for old times’ sake?’ It just don’t seem feasible.”

“I hoped to put a team or something together when I thought the time was right.” Hope grumbled, rifling through her papers. “I was planning on… well… taking them.”

“Taking them? Like— stealing them?” Orsel prodded.

“Where would you even find someone willing to do something like that? Vino followed up. “You’d be tasking these people with stealing some of the most heavily guarded and revered objects in Crux’s history— it’s almost impossible.”

“I’m aware of that, yes, but it’s for a good cause.” Hope explained, “In fact, the best cause anyone could possibly imagine— preventing a war on the scale of the Umbral Incursion, and bringing the keystone to its former glory— anyone who did this would be considered the greatest heroes on the face of Crux!”

“Or its greatest criminals.” Jake sneered.

A spark of realization jolted through Hope’s mind

“Hey, what if you guys helped me with this?”

“WHAT!?” Jacob and Vino protested in unison.

“I mean, you guys at least have some experience running from the law, heck, I could even train you— you’d make a crack team of—”

“OUT OF THE QUESTION!” Jake scolded. “Some of us have lives to get back to.”

“But Shaydon is still hunting you guys down! They know you’re out here— maybe it could prove an opportunity for you to remain safe.” Hope encouraged.

“Look,” Vino extrapolated, “just because we had a run-in with Shaydon’s law doesn’t mean we’re willing to throw our lives away for some… pipe dream. I’m as open-minded as the next guy, but this seems outlandishly dangerous.”

“I’m… willing to listen,” Orsel announced, Jacob and Vino meeting his claim with repulsed stares, Vino moving closer to talk to him a bit more personally.

“Alright, I’m not that open-minded. Orsel, this isn’t something you want to do.”

“Now hang on…” Hope interrupted.

Vino shot her a look.

“Now listen, I know you haven’t spent a lot of time outside Shaydon, but this isn’t how things are done out here. What she’s proposing, well, it’s practically suicide.”

“Well, what other choice do I have? I can either do nothing about this and be hunted down by Shaydon, or I can be hunted down and at least say I tried to do something meaningful with my life. This is an opportunity I would never get if I hadn’t left my home.”

“Come on, Orsel, don’t do this.” Jake said.

“But we should. I mean, Jake, you of all people should know: You served during the Umbral Incursion. If you got the chance to prevent that whole war before it even happened, wouldn’t you take it?”

“That’s not the same as— ugh.” Jake spat.

“Besides, you guys promised me you’d help me get my bearings out here, by the way— you owe me this much.”

“But not like this!” Vino protested. “Never like this! We meant we’d help get you a job and a place to stay or something, not join some crazy heist to steal shards of the Keystone of all things!”

“Well, I’m sorry, but I’m at least going to hear Hope out.” Orsel turned, arms folded. “Besides, if even at least half of what she’s said is true, with those theories about Shaydon corrupting all these different places on Crux, I’m going to have to be dealing with that place one way or another anyways— any chance I can get to stop that, I’ll take. Come on, Hope.”

Shocked at his response, Hope exited the Keystone temple with Orsel, beckoning the others to come with her at the doorway. Vino shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Hope. We can’t do this with you. Orsel may be willing to go with you on this, but we—”

“Oh, I know that” She interrupted. ”I just need you to leave, so I can lock the place back up.” 

CHAPTER 33: Supply and Demand

“Back in your cell!” Ven shouted, using her twin-pronged arm to zap the newly-incarcerated hinders of a shayd. He fell face-first into his cell, standing up to clutch the bars promptly after they had just closed.

“You have to talk to Yuttoguln about this, please!” He groveled. “I was one day late on my rent!”

“I was one hour late.” A cellmate behind him piped up. As the newbie looked behind him to see the source of the noise, Ven had stuck her arm into the socket next to the cell, zapping the two jailbirds.

“Now I see why Yuttoguln agreed to our previous arrangement.” She grumbled, looking over at the other cells, each containing up to five shayd in their confines. “This much overcrowding would drive anyone to desperation.” Suddenly, a knock at the basement hatch interrupted her brooding.

“NO MORE!” She screamed. “We’re still processing the last few you sent over.”

“Sister, it’s me!” Eyve revealed, “Come up here! I have something to show you.”

“It had better not be any more of these lowlifes.” She said, banging her mechanical arm on the cage she had just shocked. Once Ven had ascended the steps and ladder up to the main floor of the laboratory, she was met with a sight that nearly instilled a response from her emotive substitution processor. Eyve presented a bag, filled to the brim with glittering, blue gems— some more intact, shaped like teardrops.

“Where did you get these?” Ven asked, grabbing one of them, holding it between her fingers.

“I worked something out with Rawth- this is their first haul from Frostonia! And so quick, too!”

“What… exactly did you work out?” The twin asked, warily.

“Nothing much, a small sum of star for each pound of cores they bring back.”

“How small?”

“Goodness, we’ll be able to work a lot quicker with this much coming in, huh?” Eyve jingled the bag in an attempt to abate the topic.

“How much star did you promise him?” Ven ordered, clutching the core much more firmly.

“A…thousand”

“A what?”

“A thousand, alright?”

“A thousand star for each poun— Eyve!” She swiped the bag onto the floor, causing the fragments to spill and clatter about. “We don’t have that kind of budget, even with Edrip’s grant!” What were you thinking?”

“Well, I thought that with a large enough stock, we would—”

“We would what? Magically get enough star to cover this deal you made without my consul, in between us already working around the clock to make more of these things? I’ve been processing Yuttoguln’s prisoners all day, and where have you been? Making deals and gallivanting around, just like that harlot, Lus—”

“Don’t speak that tramp’s name!” Eyve growled, sending an arc of energy down her mechanical arm. “Progress is more than slaving away in a laboratory, sister. Part of it is preparing the world outside for what is to come, terrible and great as it may be.” 

“Be that as it may.” Ven finished. “What is to come still needs a way of coming. Work still needs to be done, and I require your services for the rest of the day.”

“Bu—”

“I don’t care what you had planned for today, we are going to buckle down and turn these subjects into our next batch of compounds by the end of the day. Understood?”

“Fine.”

“And pick up those core shards. Father didn’t raise a slob.”

CHAPTER 29: Uninvited Guests

“What do you mean?” Orsel asked, cracking the door open a bit to see what the Grandess was talking about— only to see, through the arch in Lum’s wall, the unmistakable silhouette of four Shayd, garbed in armor and brandishing boltcasters. He slammed the door shut again. “They’re looking for us.” He announced, back towards the door.

“What’s out there?” Jake turned to ask.

“Shayd. Four of them, armed and dangerous.” Orsel answered.

“You led them here.” Hope paced around the room nervously, clutching her hair. “They’re going to find me this time, I know it— I can’t— I don’t—” she hid behind her throne, hyperventilating. Noticing her distress, Vino held onto her elbow in an attempt to comfort her.

 “Calm down, alright? They’re looking for us, not you. This is our mess, we’ll take care of it, right, guys?” Jake rotated his claws, grinding them together, smirking manically.

“Hey, yeah, we can take ‘em!” He affirmed. Orsel grimaced a bit at the concept. He was never much of a fighter, and hurting some of his own kin— even if they were trying to hunt him down— was a thought that didn’t sit easily within his head.

“W-wait a second, we don’t have to do anything, uh, lethal to them, do we?”

“Well, why not?” Jacob responded. “They’re gonna keep chasing us if we don’t” Hope’s eyes widened at the words, a flash of yellow sparking throughout her hair.

“Killing won’t be necessary.” Hope declared, standing up behind her throne. “I believe we can learn something from them if we manage to keep them here for a bit.”

“What are you proposing?” Vino asked.

“An interrogation!” Hope revealed. “So, I have a favor to ask of you three— I need you to subdue those intruders and ask them some questions, got it? I think we’ll be able to learn a lot from these trespassers.”

“Got i— wait, what?” Orsel protested. “You’re asking us to beat these people up!”

“Look, ‘subdue’ can mean anything.” Hope explained, rubbing her forehead. “It’s not my fault that’s what you defaulted to. Incapacita— no… Disarm the… Look, just get them in a state where they can’t do anything bad, alright?”

“Fine.” Orsel sighed. “Then what?”

“Then I’m going to have you three ask them these questions.” Hope pulled up a piece of paper that Orsel recognized as the same sheet she was holding when she interviewed him.

“And then?” Jacob asked. “What do we do with them once they give us what we need?”

Hope’s eyes darted from Orsel back towards the closed door. 

“We’ll figure that out later. Right now, however, there are— How many did you say there were, Orsel?”

“Four.”

“—Four Shaydonian soldiers out there who could have vital information for my theory. I am trusting you to help me.”

The heavy door of Hope’s throne room slammed shut behind the trio as they began their careful descent down the stairs. The top third of the sun was still setting over the horizon, the sky showcasing a blend of dazzling constellations and the last light of day as it slowly seeped away.

“This feels wrong.” Stated Orsel, clutching his crookshank. “It’s like we’re criminals or something.”

“To be fair, we are criminals to them.” Vino observed, fiddling with his invention. “We caused a fair share of chaos during our escape, but I have no idea why they’re bothering to chase us down this far away from Shaydon.”

“No, I mean taking orders from Hope— doing her dirty work like this. I feel like a henchman or a— a goon or something.”

“Hey, first of all, don’t disrespect henchmen or goons like that. Secondly, I’d say it’s reasonable for her to cash in a favor after harboring us for a bit.”

“I suppose, what do you think, Jake?”

 “Hm? Sorry, I’m still… thinking about the stuff I read.”

“What’s your consensus? About the possibility of a war, I mean.” Vino inquired.

“I think it might happen.” Jacob responded bluntly. “I got a gut feeling.” 

“You know,” Orsel groaned, “I’m afraid I might have the same answer.”

The trio eventually made it onto the streets of Lum, the safety they once felt now replaced with the anticipation that Shaydon’s finest could be hiding behind any corner, waiting to strike. Vino was trembling profusely, with his invention’s looser implements clanking against each other rhythmically as he breathed heavily. Jacob put his hand on his shoulder, the flauna nearly jumping out of his clothes in response.

“Stay together.” He ordered. “Shayd are experts at ambush combat.”

“We are?” Orsel asked, surprised.

A bolt of energy flung itself from behind the corner of a house, narrowly missing Orsel’s head. Afterward, four shayd clad in armor and brandishing boltcasters jumped out from behind some of the various crumbled buildings, surrounding the three runaways.

“There they are! C’mon, boys!” Their leader, sporting a diamond-shaped protrusion on his helmet, ordered.

Jacob raised his fists, Orsel his crookshank, and Vino his new invention. Everything after that was a blur. A veritable monsoon of slapdash combat between the seven individuals ensued, with Orsel and Vino taking turns swinging wildly and cowering, while Jacob proved himself to be a natural at hand-to-hand combat, covering for the lack of fighting prowess his allies had tenfold. Eventually, however, The violence proved to be too much for Vino’s meager constitution to handle, taking more than a few blows than he was comfortable with. During the ruckus, he ran back to the temple in order to steel himself more properly. He would never have done so if he didn’t believe Orsel and Jake weren’t up to the task: and by the looks of it, they seemed to be doing just fine— even if Orsel looked like he was about to throw up. Vino had only ever run this fast before about three times, his three, rooty legs limping himself fast enough to even rival Hope as he ascended the stairs. He heaved the door open and slammed it behind him, much to the surprise of Hope.

“Vino! What happened?”

“I got hurt, I— I ran away.”

“Goodness! Are the others okay?”

“They’re still down there fighting the shayd, and I didn’t know if I’d survive— and I didn’t know what else to do— so I just came back here!” Vino blubbered, teary-eyed. “Seed! Why do I do this, every time something like this happens, I—”

“VINO!” Hope interrupted, shaking some sense into him. “Look, I know how you feel, to be helpless when danger like this strikes, but your friends need you down there.”

“No they don’t.” Vino sniffed. “Look at them!” Hope peered out a crack in the doorway to see the threat had already been taken care of. Jake, suffering only a few scratches in his burlap shirt, was holding the cloaks of the four shayd over his shoulder like a bushel, while Orsel was still blindly swinging at nothing. An impressed look crowned the Grandess’ eyes. “Well, regardless, you shouldn’t have just run off like that.”

“I know, but what can I do compared to them? They’re elementals! They’re stronger and faster than I could ever be, all I have is this stupid thing here that doesn’t even work yet.” Vino griped as he slammed it against the ground, inadvertently launching a bolt that stuck firmly into the masonwork of the throne room. Despite her annoyance at the property damage, Hope placed her hand on Vino’s shoulder.

“Vino, this feels like something you should talk about with them. Friends should never feel like they have to compare themselves to one another so intently.” 

“Well, I don’t even know— is friend the word we should be using here? All I’ve done with these people is break out of jail with them, and—”

Hope gave a stern look at Vino, knowing that he already knew the answer.

“Yeah, fine, I guess we are friends.” Vino admitted, “But the short time I’ve known them is still relevant. I can’t just dive into something like that. Take this thing, for example.”

Vino pulled the device onto his lap.

“Look at this, it’s a mess, probably the worst machine ever made. It’s unstable, rickety, prone to uh…” He stole a glance over at the bolt stuck in the wall, “… Acting up, but with a little time, patience, and most importantly time, we can hope it can become something better than it once was. You see where I’m getting at?”

“I believe so.” Hope chuckled. Vino, doing the same, attempted to stand up, but held his shoulder in pain midway through doing so, dragging his back against the wall as he slid down.

“Besides, you shouldn’t go back to them in such rough shape.”

“I don’t think they got anything too vital.” Vino winced, “But everything hurts. You have an aid kit around here?” 

“Uh, let me check—” Hope blipped around the room looking for something that might help. She did manage to find an aid pack, but not one that would help an organic being like Vino. Inside was a bottle of glue for repairing cracked cores, a small dustpan and brush, a vial of gem polish, and a flashlight. “I’m afraid I’ve never… tended to an organic before.” 

Vino sighed. 

“I think what I need is some rest and some water.” He held out the empty bottle he had been carrying around and waved it at Hope. “Use the fountain.”

Back down in the residential area, Orsel was still swinging his crookshank around, his eyes wrenched shut from fear.

“BACK! BACK! GET AWAY!” He screamed, punctuating each woosh of his tool’s motion. Jake, eyelids lowered, grabbed Orsel’s crookshank mid-swing. 

“There’s nobody left, dingbat. We’re done.”

“Orsel opened his eyes, looking around erratically. 

“Huh? Where’d they all go?”

Jake gently shook the cloak he had slumped over his back. It made a jingling sound.

“In here. You still got those questions, Hope ga— hey, where’s Vino?”

“Vino is resting.” A voice from the nearby fountain sparked up, coming from Hope, who was currently filling a bottle.

“He ran away during the fight, he’s up in my throne room healing.”

“Is he hurt?” Orsel asked.

“He’s a bit worse for wear, yes.” Hope clarified. “But he’ll be fine. When you’re ready, go do the interrogations, alright?” 

“Gotcha.” Jake affirmed, hoisting the cloak over his other shoulder. “Come on, Orsel, let’s go talk to some of your friends.”

“These aren’t my friends.”

“Yeah, I-” Jake sighed. “Let’s just find some place to do this, alright?”

CHAPTER 30: Will be Done

A relatively intact blue building proved to be the best place Jacob and Orsel could perform their interrogations. A table, lamp, chair, and rope were all relatively easy things to come by, allowing for an appropriate (and intimidating) atmosphere. The cores were all released and interviewed separately, and Orsel and Jacob quickly found out that interrogating Shayd was a… Frustrating process. Even with Jake playing bad cop and Orsel good, the responses they received were too generic to make any useful conclusions from.

“Alright, so, uh, what would you say is an average day in your life?”

“What is this? Some kind of joke!? I train, I sleep, and I uphold the principles of Shaydon’s glory. Any further decadence is a disgrace to our force!”

“I guess I get up, then I eat breakfast, then I clean out my bunk, then I leave my bedroom, then Rawth makes us do drills, then I talk to my friends Uahl and Omicat, then I eat lunch, then I talk to my other friends Rombo and Ecas, then I-”

“Please let me see a lawyer. I don’t know why I’m here.”

“What about during your, uh, days off?”

“Days off?”

“Well, don’t tell anyone, but sometimes me an Uahl play hooky for a day, throw rocks into the water in the R&D sector and watch them melt.”

“Please let me see a lawyer.”

“How likely is it that Shaydon could go to war in the future?”

“As much as I respect our nation, those sissies in The Seven wouldn’t try something that brash. Still, if anyone else tried to fight us, we’d be ready for ‘em.”

“I don’t know, probably not? I don’t really care about politics.”

“…”

After the cores of the initial three were put back into isolation, it was time for the fourth and final member of the group to be interrogated. Expecting more of the same, Orsel grabbed the last core from Jake’s cloak-sack and placed it into the bundle of rope the other three were wrapped up in. He had to work quick, since as soon as it left the confines of the sack, the core realized it had enough room to reform. He began doing so while Orsel lifted it up, absorbing errant wisps of shadow from around the night that surrounded them. Eventually, a shayd sat before them, woozy, and tied-up. He had four scraggly wisps of head-tendrils and a single eye.

“What is this? Who are y- waitwaitwait, I know who you are… You’re the traitor, and that… terr-y-an. That’s how you say it, right?”

“Yup.” Jake blankly confirmed.

The shayd looked around erratically. 

“What is this, anyway? You’re not gonna torture me, are you?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Jacob said, spinning his hand like a drill, grinding it against the side of the table. “But that’s your decision.”

“We have some questions we need answering.” Explained an exhausted Orsel. “First up, What would you say is an aver—”

“ALRIGHT, I’LL TALK! I’LL TALK!” The shayd exclaimed, writhing around. “The Seven probably set this whole thing up just to get the confession out of me— the jailbreak, the mission, the fight— I’ll come clean, I just can’t live with the guilt anymore!” Orsel and Jake looked at each other in confusion. 

“What is he talking abou—” Orsel began to ask, before Jake’s claw was shoved in his face, shushing him.

“Uh, that’s right. We know all about what you did. Now, how ’bout you come clean right now. You confess, we promise we’ll work something out, capiche?”

“Yes! Yes! Alright, so it went like this. About three days ago, Rawth caught me reading some… contraband, so he punishes me, right? Makes me scrub the barracks with nothing but a little-bitty tool-brush for cleaning out boltcasters. So I slave away all day, washing and rinsing with something so small it could snap in half if it caught the wind the wrong way.” 

“Is that really it? Contraband?” Orsel asked, unenthused.

“I’m getting to that. So, when I was at around, I dunno, the fourth or fifth bunk, cleaning off the springs from underneath it, I heard the door open— Who else is it but old Rawth and, weirdly enough, Edrip. I’m thinking, ‘oh, they’re gonna give me the business’, right? But the little guy must’ve forgotten plum about me, because then they just started… talkin’.”

“Talkin’?” Jacob inquired. “About what?”

“Well, I didn’t hear the first half of what they were saying, on account of being too far away, so, out of natural curiosity, I scooch over a few beds until I’m under the one right next to ol’ bolt-hood. That’s when I heard the, uh, incriminating stuff in question. Edrip was saying something about ‘they need to be ready, or else we’ll never live up to our potential,’ and ‘yer armies are the strong arm of Shaydon, they represent us.’ Then of course Rawth is rantin’ and raving about how he thinks we are, in fact, good enough, and he storms out. Then, get this, Edrip starts talking to himself. At first, I thought sure, alright, guy’s a little nuts- but then he starts going on about ‘your will be done’ and a bunch of other stuff he was muttering under his breath. I didn’t leave from under that bed until dinner, to say the least.”

“And what do you think this thing you needed to be ready for was?” Orsel asked.

“No clue.” The shayd responded. “We haven’t had to be ready for squat forever now. Sure, there’s the parade we hold every Grigia, but that’s like over half a year away! Look, I didn’t mean to spy, I just want to go back to the way things were before this mess.”

“I’m sure they will, bud. I’m sure they will.” Jake affirmed, grabbing the shayd’s core through the ropes and ripping it out of his now-dissipating body.

“That was a bit harsh.” Orsel commented, wincing at the sight.

“Yeah, probably wasn’t necessary, looking back.” Jake said, plopping the core back into the cloak-made sack. “But I think we have enough answers for Hope… as well as the fact that Shaydon apparently has lawyers.”

“You really think one shady-sounding meeting is what she’s looking for?”

“Well, it’s all we got.” Jacob sighed. “Now let’s go find her, give her what she wants.”

CHAPTER 27: Funds and Mental

In Shaydon, a paper-strewn office sits high amongst the clouds, viewing everything below it as a light-smudged sea of temptations and city living. The room itself is plainly furnished— any extravagance taking part only on the torn scraps of paper in the form of words and slapdash doodles and ideas. A shayd sits face-down on his desk, resting his eye for a brief moment, knowing that no matter how much he may wish it, rest will never truly come to him. As he sits, time finally seems to melt away. Could this finally be it? That sweet release of deformation that all of his ilk undergo when they encounter the silken mistress of sleep? He finds himself waist-deep in a pool of serenity, dipping deeper into its clutches as—

BANG!

“Loth, Wake up!”

The shayd’s eye squints at the sight he has been subjected to for the length of his entire professional career, an unearned office, half-finished ideas melting into one another, and of course, some irritating lout barking orders at him. This particular one was Egred, Shaydon’s treasurer, his most signifying feature being the fact that the hood on his cloak ended not with a point (or several), but a bundle held together with a thick rope of golden silk.

“This had better be important Egred. I had finally gotten five minutes to myself.” He groaned as he rubbed his temples.

“Do you SEE what they’re DOING?! The Seven have practically gone MAD with…” The intruder’s face twisted with anger as he wrestled the next word from his unseen mouth. “Generosity. They’re throwing every glittering coin of mine into the hands of every Mot, Kicd, and Yerrj they see fit!”

“So the old-timers got some raises, big whoop.” Loth said, slumping over to a large machine and pulling the handle of the tap attached to it. “I just hope some of it ends up going my way for once.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” Egred scowled. “And you know this is about more than just raises. I heard from Lusa that that fiend Eyve is promising Rawth’s soldiers 1000 star for each pound of elemental cores they bring back.”

Egred tapped the side of Loth’s desk in frustration, facing away from him as he filled a cup with the contents of the machine.

“I despise it with every fiber of my being. Every coin out there, clattering throughout the pockets of those infidels, not lining the interior of my bank, all it brews is more trouble, I tell you!”

“Give it a rest, would you?” Loth griped as he took a sip of the machine’s bitter contents. “You know how the economy works. Everything ends up going back to you, one way or another.”

“This is different” Egret hissed. “Whenever I invest, I know where the money’s going to end up. I know the process, the people— the reliability of said processes and people. You don’t get to be treasurer without knowing exactly what’s going to be spent and what it’ll be spent on.”

Loth arced his head skyward, frustrated.

“Look, I’m already up to my neck in running stuff to keep the public away from… whatever Eyve and Ven were up to. I really don’t have time for this.”

“That’s just it! We don’t know a blasted thing about this venture. Experiments?! Fusions!? Where’s the profit margin? What’s the demand?” Egred babbled obliviously. “I’m not going to sit idly by while star is just being thrown at this. I worked for this position, I usurped that damned philanthropist, I earned thi-” Egred soon found himself cut off by Loth, grasping his arms around his shoulders and shaking him violently.

“SHUT UP, will you? SHUT UP. I DON’T CARE ABOUT-” Loth suddenly snapped back to normalcy, releasing Egred from his grasp and dusting him off. He took a deep breath before uttering his next words.

“If I run some more commercials tonight, getting people to, I dunno, buy stuff, will you promise to leave me alone?”

Egred collected himself from the sudden outburst, straightening himself at the proposition.

“Now that is an offer I won’t refuse.” He slunk out of the door, satisfied with the arrangement. “Take care!” He left, receiving a joyless wave from Loth as he took another sip from his cup.

“Alright, let’s see what I’m working with today…” He muttered, grabbing three darts from a bowl on his desk and closing his eye. He blindly flung them across the room, returning vision to his eye shortly after he was sure they had all landed.

“Let’s see here…”

“Big…”

“Recoil…”

“Plank…”

Loth pondered the words provided to him by the darts.

“Alright, let’s see here, we could have some… people, I guess, recoiling in fear at some… Big plank? Nonono, that won’t work… Or maybe we could do an ad for something hardware related… Hmm…”

The puzzle before him was twisted, just like Loth’s own fate. One thing was for certain, however: After this idea was deciphered, pitched, and produced, it would end up exactly like every other thing this esteemed member of The Seven had ever created; lost and forgotten, proclaimed old news to be buried under the next brilliant idea his darts could come up with. It was a cruel fate, but one that earned him a place of power, regardless. After all, a mind can be as feeble or as powerful as what it’s fed, and deprivation was second nature to one such as Loth.

CHAPTER 28: The Web

“Maybe Thead was onto something.” Panted Vino, climbing up the stairs of Hope’s temple yet again. “This right here? This would make anyone go crazy.” The sun was beginning to set upon the trio, the light of day beginning to hide itself precariously behind the fractured wall that circumnavigated the city. Orsel knelt onto the steps of the temple, clutching his crookshank for balance.

“I know it’s in poor taste, but I have to side with Vino here. If I have to climb up this flight of stairs one more time today, I’m going to see to it that Hope’s theory comes true!”

“Hush up, now.” Jake scolded, leading the two ingrates. “A bit of a workout shouldn’t be an issue for either of you, and secondly-” He wiped his brow, flinging some mud off onto the indents of stone lining the stairs. “Don’t even joke about that stuff! This poor grandess has been mourning her people for almost twenty years now!” Orsel and Vino looked away from Jake in shame as they climbed to catch up with him.

“… These stairs are still a pain, though.”

Eventually, they reached Hope’s door, Jacob greeting it with a thunderous knock.

“Hope, we want to talk!” He commanded. There was no answer from within.

“Welp, she’s not here. Let’s go.” Orsel proclaimed, turning around only to be grabbed by Jacob.

“That didn’t stop you last night, come on.” Jake opened the door to find Hope, as was becoming standard now, hunched over and clutching a stack of papers. She looked legitimately surprised to see the intruders, and blipped towards the door to shut it.

“Don’t come in! It’s not ready yet!” She begged, and hanging right behind her was a tapestry of pictures and documents, suspended from the ceiling and interconnected with colored string.

“Orsel told us you have an…” Vino looked around at the labyrinthine collection of documents. “… Interesting theory to share with us.”

“I’m just trying to organize everything. I know I’m right about this. I’ve seen the entire world move on from here in this temple. If I can ask one thing from you three besides keeping my presence a secret, at least let it be a chance to explain all of this.”

Vino stepped forwards and began to rummage through Hope’s findings.

“Well, maybe we can help you put some of this together. Where does this go?” He held up a folder labeled “MAW’S DIGGIN’S”

“That goes over there, in the shell company pile.” Hope directed, fastening a sheet of paper with a drawing of an air elemental on it to a clip. “You wouldn’t believe how many places Shaydon has its hands in.” Upon seeing Vino continue to help out, Orsel and Jacob decided to do the same, sorting through the papers, and helping the grandess piece it together.

“So, Miss Hope, what would you say is your biggest piece of evidence right now?” Jacob asked, flitting through a stack of documents.

“Well, at the moment, I’d probably say you guys.” 

“And how exactly is that?” Orsel inquired

“Well, uncouth experiments normally aren’t out of Shaydon’s territory,” She explained, “But the fact that they went to great lengths to get a group of subjects such as yourselves speaks plenty about how desperate they are to get an edge against everyone else.”

“Great lengths?” Orsel asked, unraveling a ball of blue string. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on.” Hope chuckled. “I mean, last I heard, flauna and terrians aren’t exactly native to Shaydon. Also, the fact that there were other elementals being tested on means that they’re getting these people from somewhere. I mean, Jacob, how did you find yourself captured?” Jake frowned as his index claw began to slice through the newspaper he was holding.

“They hauled me out of my own home like a damn piece of furniture.”

“See! Proof! They’re sending out raiding parties, using outside contacts— like these here— to track down likely candidates for their testing!”

Jake looked back over at Hope, slamming the newspaper onto a nearby table

“Wait, you telling me that I was scoped out for this? By someone back home?”

“Hey, it’s only a theory— I mean, a theory with a lot of proof. Look at these disappearances! A good chunk of them are from people I’ve seen causing problems around their respective homelands.”

Jacob looked more intently at the rows of faces that hung behind him, where Hope was pointing to. He pointed at a picture of a water elemental and turned over to Vino. 

“Ain’t this Pa’ja? That aquean we met in the cell three down from us?” Vino walked over, squinting his eyes and tilting his head at Jake’s subject.

“He does look a bit familiar. His hair was parted the other way, though, if I remember correctly.”

“Cut me some slack.” Hope grumbled. “I’m not good at portraits.”

“Hey, look!” Vino grabbed a slip of paper from the chandelier of missing persons. “This ignis, Grada! She was in the cell at the end of the wall. I know those eyes anywhere.”

“A decent amount of these do line up.” Jake concluded. “I mean, I’m not too good with names and faces, but I definitely remember some of these folks.” Meanwhile, Orsel found the newfound evidence more than marginally imposing.

“Alright, so Shaydon’s research and development looks like it’s doing something shifty. Granted, it is awful that innocent lives are being treated like this, but that doesn’t necessarily mean there’s a full-fledged war coming, right?”

“Well, to quote one of Thead’s old friends, ‘the seeds of conflict are best sown in odd places.’” Hope walked up to the dangling web of files that Vino had recently contributed to. ”Around five years ago, these organizations have started popping up throughout Crux, each of them up to no good in their own unique ways.” She flitted through the contents, performing split-second showcases of hand-drawn logos. “Some of them are just groups of troublemakers, while others are full-fledged guilds and companies, all of them given heaps of star from seemingly nowhere.”

“And how, pray tell, do you make the connection from that to Shaydon?” Orsel accused. “Who’s to say they didn’t just pull themselves up on their own or get a loan from someplace?”

“Well, I—” Hope cleared her throat. “Alright, look. I don’t have any actual way of seeing how they got their funds, I mean, being able to see anything that goes on at night would help— BUT! Look at the things these people are doing!” She handed out folders to the three with detailed observations. “Every one of these places has been causing nothing but problems for the larger populations around them. No offense to you, Orsel, but if you don’t think there’s a hint of Shaydon behind this stuff, then I don’t know what to tell you.”

A moment was spent while the trio perused their respective documents. Vino’s folder, labeled “CERULEAN FLAME”, noticeably piqued his interest, his eyes widening at some of the passages he read over.

“Let’s see here… entertainment club… influx of members… Some not leaving…large quantities of star… yadda yadda…mass shutdown…”

Orsel’s folder had “WORD OF GOL” emblazoned on its face. He was hesitant to read it, but he at least had to give Hope’s claims an honest chance. Within the folder were pages upon pages of essays detailing a large shift in a far-off nation, wherein a religious following worshiping a deity named “Gol” had now divided into two major subsects, the Stalwart and the Quasi. One of which doing much more successful, and somehow more profitably, than the other. As was the case with the homemade missing persons files, there were some visual aids provided by Hope herself littered amongst the ancient pages. There were a couple prominent figures often seen, such as a stony-looking earth elemental by the name of Tekorix, and a handful of misshapen members of the Quasi that seemed to pop up more than once. Alongside the profiles, however, there were also hand-drawn scenes of what Orsel assumed were events Hope had seen through the dayfinder. Suffice to say, these were not drawn very well, but they clearly depicted enforcers of the stalwart committing acts of violence and other unfair acts on the quasi. There were around a dozen of these, but as he thumbed through the art, one of them managed to catch his eye.

It was a small stone elemental, a child, sitting in a pile of rubble. He looked upset, lost, like he didn’t belong and didn’t completely understand why. In that child’s sad, scribbled eyes, Orsel felt a twinge in his core, something familiar deep within his memories that he had yet to comprehend, a feeling he could only describe as homesickness.

If there was any proof, insignificantly small as it may be, that Shaydon was behind some of these doings, that lonely, three-armed child was it. It was the cruel and unforgiving world he had been raised in his whole life that had somehow seeped outside the walls of Shaydon and into the life of this undeserving stranger. Granted, this was only a feeling rather than a concrete fact, but the fact such a feeling in him was invoked in the first place at least commanded some respect.

 Orsel looked over at Jake, who took his silent contemplation of the notes in a violently different way. He was holding the “MAW’S DIGGIN’S” folder that Vino had hung up on the shell corporation strings not too long ago, and Orsel could tell that Jacob was not enjoying what he was reading. His eyes flared in anger as they darted across the words, unseen to the others, as he slightly crunched the paper between his massive claws. He had flipped one more page, and his eye twitched in fury as he grumbled and flung the paper onto the floor.

“Alright, I’m convinced.” He uttered, clenching his fists. “But what are we gonna do about all this?”

 “Slow down, Jake.” Vino interrupted. “While this evidence is quite well-put together— Thank you for that, Ms. Hope— we still need something a bit more… concrete to know that Shaydon is planning something larger than, from the looks of it, general trouble.”

Hope’s response to the claim was nonexistent, her eyes locked on something seemingly a thousand miles away. 

“Do you have anything else like this?” He continued, holding his folder outwards to her. Abruptly, Hope ran over to the open door and slammed it shut. 

“Stay quiet.” She commanded, taking down her hung-up evidence and hastily shoving them into their old piles.

“Look, all I’m asking for is a bit more data.” Continued Vino. “An investigation such as this should—”

“We have company.” Hope explained.