Icarus Awakens

"It... it worked," Arpan said breathlessly as he processed one heart in particular from the batch the Mirage leader had brought. He'd run it through his testing power as he did all the others, and she saw the intent in his eyes for a brief moment to destroy it. It was the reason she'd insisted on someone being here while he tested them.

"Good. Use it immediately to make another dagger," she instructed. This had been what she had waited for. After hundreds of hearts, they'd finally found one that worked.

"This is from a level 1 monster, a desert urchin if I'm not mistaken," Arpan said warily. "What you want me to make, that's level 5. It shouldn't work, but it does. How is this one different?"

"Does it matter?" she replied dismissively, trying to keep the anticipation out of her voice. It was time. With the dagger the Assassin had used, and on the body he'd used it on, she had a second ally. That wasn't enough. Either the Illustrious had misjudged the situation, hadn't had the resources themselves to make a second, or had just not wanted them to succeed here. Matters were proceeding too quickly, the meeting of the gods projected to occur in less than two weeks. She had to strike before then, and with the stony mortal heart she'd acquired weeks ago, this next dagger could produce the last ally she needed to pull off the plan.

The Mirage leader ignored Arpan's questions and waited for him to begin his work. Once he did, she returned to her own thoughts. In the end it wasn't too surprising as to what the material's special requirement had been. It might've been the reason the Illustrious hadn't shared the full formulae.

It wasn't the heart itself, it was the fact that it had come from a monster with a spirit, if the report of the one that harvested it was anything to judge by. From the secrets of her people Casia knew the hearts of those monsters could accumulate soul remnant from the broken spirit. Normally use of this resource was limited to the gods, but the Illustrious must have found a way to create a formulae that was compatible with it.

She'd have to keep an eye out for more of those rare creatures. While she had enough daggers now for the plan to succeed, there were at least two others she wanted to use them for. All in good time. For now, she had a siege to plan.

...

There was a bell behind the door that rang when it opened, playing a cheery three-note melody. That one of the notes differed from the other meant it was probably magical, and she could guess who had made it. It was a small thing, something she hadn’t noticed when first coming here because of how big everything had been. The streets were no less intimidating now but for different reasons.

A little over a month after leaving Aughal for the first time, Khiat stepped into the shop run by Ornithar. She saw the surprise on the shopkeeper’s face. It had become a common reaction to people seeing her. Bending down, she fully crossed the threshold. She was alone, although armed. Weapons weren’t yet banned on the streets, though there’d been plenty of people grumbling about how the Council would probably put that in place the way things were going.

To Ornithar, it was obvious that a Blessed had just entered his shop. He didn’t remember her, as distinguishing duskers was very difficult for those not of their race even for people who dealt with them normally. He was just a little on edge because of how she’d entered.

Unarmored. It was minutes to dusk, the sun on the horizon, but the sun was still out. Duskers with Sun Immunity were a mark of someone high level or of exceptional means. Ornithar’s Appraise Enchantment power didn’t suggest she carried anything granting that effect, so that meant this Blessed was very powerful indeed.

“Good evening, madam. Can I help you with something?” He privately sighed in relief when he heard her speak, having correctly guessed the gender. Then he blinked as he realized how young she was.

“Uhm, yes.” Indecision for just a moment in her voice before an easy conviction took over. Someone who was still learning herself but having made it past the basic courses. That confused Ornithar. It didn’t fit with what he’d assumed, and several of his other powers were beginning to function as if she was below his level. “There’s a couple of things I’d like to buy. Do you have any of the, um, long-lasting flying toys? The ones with your name,” she clarified with traces of uncertainty still clinging on.

“I do! How many were you looking for?” Despite being confused and a little intimidated, Ornithar’s speech didn’t falter and the mercantile gleam in his eye didn’t fade. He was a businessman, and old. This wasn’t the first time someone unexpected had entered his shop. Not by far. “I can also customize them, for an additional cost. Paint that won’t fade or fray, and in many colors. I can do patterning as well, even on the sails with a special dye.”

An example was brought up unbidden. Not a full construction and certainly not enchanted. Ornithar didn’t have the time nor wealth to create replicas of ornithopters with permanent flight in every color and pattern. Instead, small sections of cloth and painted clay lined a section of the counters, the colors of which could be transposed to any number of toys surrounding the shelves. The section the old avianoid lifted was purple, primarily, but had sections of green scattered about seemingly at random.

“Hue isn’t an issue,” Ornithar continued. “If you want minor alterations off an existing pattern, then I have Recolor Material. I was a greenhand back when I awakened it and thought it was a waste. Why use magic when you could go to the market and buy any dye you’d like?” He shook his head at his old foolishness and then brushed a feather that had detached from the table. “Ah. But what do you think? It would be an additional ten gold, but if you buy three with patterning I would round it to three and a half vermillion total.”

Despite everything that had happened, the sales pitch was affecting Khiat. She’d lost her class, but she hadn’t become immune to the powers of others. What saved her wasn’t any superior resistance to the three separate powers Ornithar was employing, it was the same principle that had prevented Gadriel from making Daniel confess on their first encounter.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have that much,” Khiat apologized wanly. She wanted a fleet of these surrounding her, in every color she could imagine. If only price wasn’t an issue. “I just have the money for two.”

“Ah, I understand.” Ornithar neatly replaced the colored cloth, showing none of the disappointment at not closing the larger sale. He reached for a shelf whose door opened without a touch, withdrawing two boxes as long as his arm before carefully closing it. “Each will be one vermillion, though I think you know this. You’ve been here before, yes?”

“About a month ago.”

“You were the one with the Artificer!” Orthinar clapped his hands together in triumph, now finally putting the pieces together. “I saw him fly! That was a sight, but I fear that was a turning point what with all these unpleasantries. Not the actual cause, please don’t misunderstand, but everything seems to be getting worse and faster each day. But I digress. I thought you were the one with him. That quiver and bag on your hip is a giveaway.”

Khiat, who had already been reaching for it, brought a mostly red pouch up and withdrew two coins out of it. “Really?” A little more of the young woman she’d been before awakening her class came out of the dust as she fully engaged in the conversation. Ornithar, with what could only be called a kind of elderly charm, made it easy. “How can you tell?”

“Unfortunately, not all of my tricks are for sale or display.” Ornithar smiled. “But, I see a secondary enchantment on the leather. That’s an Artificer’s work. I think there’s another name for that. Drat. But it looks new, and I’ve heard our resident Artificer has become even more of a recluse these days. I don’t blame him.”

“Is the city always this dangerous?” Khiat asked. She’d only returned to Aughal late yesterday, but that had been enough time to get a sense that things had changed. Or, maybe, she’d just become less naive. Hard looks on the street amidst the surprise at her walking unarmored in the sun. Suspicion. Those who ran through the crowds to their destination rather than risk a slow walk in public. “Oh, we didn’t have anything to do with it, did we?”

Ornithar grimaced as he slid one box out of its outer sleeve and began putting one of the flying toys together on the desk. “I shouldn’t have said that. No, it’s not you. It’s that damned Council. Other regions don’t do this, you know. The strongest lead, and that means someone who has earned their levels. Here, power is inherited. I’ve been happy to keep my head down over the years and make things better for the children of this city.” The last wing on the first toy was fitted into place, the process taking Ornithar as long as his speech did. “I think I forgot to worry about what happens to them when they grow up. My grandchildren and, well, great-grandchildren don’t have it hard because they have me. Seeing the looks on those who come in now, I think-”

The shop’s bell tinkled again, and looking out the door Khiat was surprised to find the night sky. How long had she been in this shop? It hadn’t felt like longer than a few minutes. She turned to find what could only be a mother and her son. It took her a moment to realize that they were the more natural clients here. She was the outsider.

As if in recognition of that, Ornithar bolted from the counter, leaving one of Khiat’s orders unfinished. It might have also been that she’d already paid, and exhausted the majority of her coin in doing so. “Well, who do we have here?” he asked, not kneeling as he would to a child of another race as the young dusker was his height.

The presence of the boy aboveground more than anything confirmed night’s arrival. The muscles responsible for locking the armored chitin took time to develop fully, leaving immature duskers constantly under threat from the sun. “He is Chati,” the mother answered for the child, who was staring at the walls as much as the shopkeeper. “I was hoping there was something left. In the fund? Last night someone mentioned there was more and I came as soon as I could.”

“What? Oh, yes, of course. Anything he likes.” Khiat watched, not at all annoyed for being ignored, as Ornithar led the boy around his shop. She and the mother exchanged glances, the unfamiliarity between them enough to prevent further interaction. Khiat saw the same things from the street in this shop. The way Chati didn’t run or speak, almost afraid to. The half step the mother took when they both got outside the reach of his arms before she reigned herself in. And the obvious overenthusiasm in the shopkeeper trying to make up for it.

Chati settled on an articulated model of a creature Khiat hadn’t seen before. Four stocky legs, a long mouth, and a tail made of hair, if the intricate carvings could be judged as accurate. It didn’t look like a monster, none of the toys did here, so it was probably some form of animal not fit for the desert. “Now, and this is very important Chati, what colors would you like?”

He didn’t get an answer. The child just stared upwards with a mixture of hesitation and uncertainty. Familiar emotions to Khiat. The mother eventually answered. “Whatever they normally look like is fine. We couldn’t ask for more.”

Ornithar looked slightly crestfallen but nodded and squeezed the wood for a moment. Color flowed out from his talons, painting the body a tannish-red while white dyed the tail and revealed a mane along the back of the neck that had been hard to distinguish before. The display of magic and, more importantly, receipt of the toy finally broke the guarded look on Chati’s face as he smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my dear boy. Where are you off to next on this adventure?”

“Home,” the mother answered, taking her son’s arm gently into her hand as she led him to the door. “The streets the way they are, you know. But I am glad to see the Spireborn haven’t forgotten us. That you haven’t. Thank you.”

“Bah, I’m just an old bird that can cut wood. Don’t think anything of it.” As they left, and it was clear no other customer would be in, Ornithar returned to his desk and deflated as worked on the other ornithopter.

“You’re really nice,” she said. “Just giving them that for free.”

“You didn’t grow up here, did you? Are you from an evernight region? Salant, perhaps.”

“No, I’m from one of the villages. Duststone Oasis.”

“Hwark. Haven’t heard of it.” The man passed a hand over his face briefly, brushing a loose feather out of his eyes. “You don’t know then. Not that I know what it’s like out there, but here your kind keeps children very sheltered. We both know why, and that can be hard on them. A while ago, the dusker faction started giving me a fund to provide for them. A small thing, something I didn’t even ask for.”

“The people I’ve talked to say they haven’t found someone to replace the one who died.” That had been a topic on everyone’s lips. Who on the Council had died, who was left, and how little they were doing. Agitation and unrest. Assassinations and scandals of the highest order and little to explain the events beyond an increasingly strained city guard keeping the fracturing peace.

“It’s run out, of course. The parents were more judicious before, duskers have a strong sense of community. Stronger than my people, I’m afraid. That’s why you see us and humans mixing factions whereas yours stood strong alone for…” He looked up for a moment, searching. “Ah, who knows? I think of leaving sometimes. Threst? My family and I would be welcomed there, but I worry about who I’d leave behind.”

“We might be going there,” Khiat nodded, trying to ignore the pain in the old man’s eyes. “Well, the people I’m with.”

“Your team?” Ornithar nodded to the bow on Khiat’s back which threatened to poke holes in his ceiling if she wasn’t careful with her height.

“I guess? This is all so new. And a few weeks ago I was… bad.” Khiat grimaced at the memories. The old Cleric had offered to at least block out the time she’d spent in self-isolation, but she’d taken the advice that it would be better to reconcile that time rather than conceal it.

“An injury?” Khiat didn’t reply, looking away. “Ah, well, new you say? I admit that is surprising. If you don’t mind, how can you handle the sun?”

Her face lit up at that. “Oh, Sun Resistance. It only works for an hour at a time but it’s so…”

“Freeing?”

“Yes,” she answered emphatically. “I hunted in the late day before, but not like this. And I can feel warm instead of burning. It’s more than I dreamed. More than I ever thought it would feel like.”

“Well, I have your orders ready. Thank you, truly. It’s people like you that let me continue my charitable streak.” He paused, thoughtful and guilty for a moment. “If you do travel to Threst, perhaps stop by another time first before you go.”

“You’d want to come with us? I’m not even sure if I’ll go.”

He waved a hand. “Just a thought. Not a serious one. Please, just ignore that. I’m sure everything will be fine soon. Thank you, again.” There wasn’t much else to say, and so Khiat headed for the door to ring the bell one more time.

…

Daniel was back in Aughal. From the looks of it, the city was as excited about it as he was. The streets were tense, the mood dark, and prospects for an easy resolution for the region’s government grim. Fortunately, it didn’t seem like it would be their problem for too much longer. Lograve had received a message from Threst indicating they should all go there soon, and that the gods had already been warned about the threat in the Thormundz.

The Arcanist was still trying to help pull together the city’s government, if for no other reason than spite. From what he’d heard, the factions whose Councilmember had been killed or removed from their position had yet to elect replacements even though it was making everything worse. He wished Lograve the best of luck but had no intention of sticking around long enough to see that get resolved himself.

At least the gains had been good. According to Evalyn, they had been going at a pace the former Eido Commander would term ‘aggressive’, and that was if you left out the higher level monsters they’d fought. Despite all of that he’d only earned three more advancement potential. Well, that and a nifty power.

Your Dexterity is now 22!

-

Your Intelligence is now 24! You have gained Feature: Ammunition Surplus.

-

Ammunition Surplus (Feature, Intelligence, Domain: Enchantment, Level: 2):

You possess the Power to occasionally produce another Item: Ammunition while enchanting. This effect can only produce one additional item per activation. The chance that this effect will occur scales with your Attribute: Luck, and your intelligence to a lesser degree. This effect may occur in an area of Magical Suppression so long as the base enchantment is not suppressed.

He might have been abusing that feature now, but he was in the middle of something else. “Being used to monster hunting is weird, but thinking of it as easy is…”

“Weirder?” Earth-Daniel finished the sentence. That was the other thing. The most earthshaking revelation. His bitterness at being marooned by himself was still there. Daniel didn’t know if it would ever go away, and kept making only infrequent visits. It was that, and that he was completely vulnerable while here, that kept him from coming here more often.

Right now, he was holed up in the inn with Hunter guarding the door. This was going to be a short visit. “Khiat should be getting the ornithopters now. You think I should mount weapons on them?”

“I think you should try! Why not? Enchant a miniature crossbow or something, maybe get it to automatically fire. Wait, you’d probably need an enchantment or affix that does that.” Earth-Daniel was scrawling on a whiteboard, roughly sketching the idea and letting him see the surface for once. Whatever had been erased underneath had been thoroughly wiped away. Asking about it would only lead to a sometimes literal wall of silence, so he didn’t.

“Enchanting’s hard enough as it is. Damn, I didn’t know how good I had it with the heliorite.”

“Like watching paint dry,” Earth-Daniel muttered, commiserating. He had to watch everything Daniel did, all for the sake of a little red button on his desk that would do something in the direst of emergencies.

“I’ve got to train with it though. We’re not going after anything higher level than us anymore, especially since Khiat would have died after the wyrm if not for near divine intervention.” Daniel looked more closely at the drawing his counterpart was making, noticing he’d switched to a red marker. “Wait, is that a laser?”

“Yeah.” Earth-Daniel shrugged. “Make something you don’t have to trigger.”

“And what, just have it firing all the time?” The other considered this and then erased the line beaming out from the image. Daniel almost wanted to keep the conversation up, but he had to go. One thing first. “Show me, again.”

“Are you sure? You tear up every time and that’s hard to watch.”

“Show me.” Earth-Daniel sighed and brought his phone up to the barrier, going through a series of images he’d saved on his phone. They were painful to look at, but he did it anyway. Kara, Alex, and Ami. His family, those still alive at least. These were all new, taken from social media. His only photo was years old, and seeing how they looked now was a blessing and a curse.

Daniel wiped his eyes, taking comfort from the fact that what he did here didn’t cross over to the other side. Hunter would probably tease him. Honestly? That might make me feel better. The tears stopped, faster than last time. It hurt, but it helped. After initially finding the way to this place, he sometimes woke up with the belief that this was all fake. Meeting his other half had shaken him. Seeing this kept him grounded. “Thanks. I need to go though.”

“Yeah. Hey, I know I don’t get taste, but could you try that glazed thing next time? I want to know if it’s a donut.”

“You clearly don’t get smell either. It’s not a donut.”

“Aw,” Earth-Daniel whined, as Daniel, or perhaps, Octyrrum-Daniel as he certainly didn’t internally refer to himself, left. It was easy if you knew where to look. To come here, he had to channel mana through the circuit around his heart. A new ability, even if it didn’t appear in his Encyclopedia. To exit he had to stop that flow by plucking at the only part of his true body he could faintly sense in the space. It was almost like a second heartbeat he willed to stop.

“That takes a lot of mana,” Daniel complained, coming to in a dimly lit room. The sun had set, and Hunter didn’t need a candle to see in the dark. The keen eyes of the predator had received quite the boost as Daniel himself could attest. His sensory training was providing results, spurred on by a slight relief that Earth-Daniel couldn’t watch him while he crossed over. Well, he can, but it’s just my body. That’s still creepy to think about.

“We should leave after tonight,” Hunter told him in greeting.

“Lograve says we should stay in the city for a few days while he figures things out. It’s great that Murdon got Threst on board and there’s this whole secret thing they can’t tell us about until we get there, but he wants to be sure there’s a Council here to keep the region stable. I think we give Lograve a few days to give him a chance to go with us.”

“I know,” Hunter growled. “We could still go, though.”

“Is it that bad?”

“I can hear stress. Fighting. Worse things.”

Daniel was taken aback. “Where? Are people, oh. It’s a big city I guess. Big enough for semi-regular crime. You’re hearing everything?”

“Yes. It’s worse than last time.”

“You’re not the only one with good senses,” Daniel said, sympathetic but also pondering. “If we wanted to, we could probably be crime fighters. Not that I’m suggesting that, but why doesn’t the guard use Blessed to passively scan? Even if they only had one or two with powers like yours it’d make a difference. And don’t they have a Fate? They should be able to Minority Report this kind of stuff.”

“Do you like that the other you is watching?” Hunter didn’t, and that was plain.

“Oh, right.” Daniel glared absently at a spot on the wall as if at a camera. “But still, they straight up kidnapped me out of prison. If they’re that shady, they must have something like that going on and just aren’t telling people.”

“So?”

“So it’s a good thing I have this anti-detection power.” He stood and peered out into the dark streets. Duskers were beginning to mix into the crowds, reducing the traffic from about ten abreast to four. “I don’t know why I didn’t think about this before, but there’s got to be people on the guard that do that. Set up in a part of the city and keep a lookout for trouble. I bet Rangers are great at that. If we can convince people you’re a Druid then you could probably get hired too.”

“Not a Druid,” Hunter said pointedly. It was something that had come up on their first visit to the Hunter’s Guild when the Commander of all people had asked Hunter a direct question. Hadn’t that made for a moment of sheer terror? “You’re teasing me.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t like this place.”

“I know,” Daniel said softly, trying to comfort Hunter. It’d been better at the oasis, the ringcat less sullen, but at least he was talking about it now. “We’ll have to see how Thomas is doing. I know he has family here, but if Quala’s staying in Threst he’ll probably come too. No idea about Khiat but she seems-”

“Close.” An aura accompanied Hunter’s words as a large shape, still some distance away, appeared. “Will you tell her about everything, if she comes?”

“Everything? I don’t know, but it has affected her. Maybe she deserves to know.” A knock at the door, silencing both immediately. Daniel’s power protected against magical intrusion, but not someone eavesdropping through the door.

“Hey you two, looks like Khiat’s on her way,” Evalyn’s voice came through the door, slightly troubled but not in the way that would indicate danger. “Want to come down?”

“Yes, commander,” Daniel snapped off.

“Stop that,” Evalyn laughed lightly, and her footsteps departed.

The two left, entering the hallway of the Painted Dusk’s upper level. They’d chosen to return here since Lograve had never left, pursuing his advancement along with the delicate art of stitching civic order back together while they were gone.

Aside from that, the wide hallways fit for duskers also perfectly accommodated the murder cat at Daniel’s side. Most buildings in the city open to the public were built to allow duskers entry and Hunter could move about them with some difficulty, but in this tavern he could walk side by side with Daniel. Even the larger species kept a distance from the pair, yet they didn’t avert their gazes. Hunter’s golden armor was unmistakable, and half of the city had seen him flying. An adventurous few had asked for a ride since they’d returned.

Evalyn walked ahead, swaying ever so slightly as she walked. You wouldn’t think anything of it if you didn’t know her well, but Daniel had been there when she’d awakened the power. It wasn’t anything too powerful, nor would it shape a battle, but Evalyn had made good use of it. Mostly to turn heads, but give it time and she’d figure out something impressive. That wasn’t what bothered Daniel, it was the name. Head Canon*, with an asterisk. A pun to him, but not the others. A few of the powers had been like that, Beast Friend as an example, and they’d all had asterisks.

Earth-Daniel knew something about that, but the damn list stopped him from saying anything. He hated that, he hated the person who’d taken him from his world even if that wasn’t technically what had happened. Who acted like he understood what Daniel had been through just because he’d watched it like a TV series. The one who was also his only link to what he’d been forced to leave behind.

“You need to get out of your head.” Evalyn was suddenly at his side, sensing his turmoil.

“It’s not fair.” Daniel slowed, not wanting to reach the stairs before he could complain. Like a child, it had to be said. These feelings came to him suddenly, as if he wasn’t passively aware of never being able to go home. “He-”

“I know.”

We know. Hunter nudged against his back. Stop moping.

“I’m not- fine, I am.” Daniel sighed, shaking himself. “Alright, let’s go. We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

…

Tak, Khiat, and Lograve were in the common area of the tavern, sitting together by the time the rest made it downstairs. Khare, for their part, was probably just outside resting, or meditating, or whatever the right word was for when earth gestalt went into the ground. They did that a lot whenever the group was in Aughal, but would resurface and join the group when they were ready.

Daniel’s brief dark mood evaporated when he saw the two shapes Khiat had placed on the table. “You got them, thanks!”

The dusker gingerly placed the two toys about as long as Daniel’s forearms on the table. They didn’t fly as they were missing something crucial. “I didn’t do much. You gave me the money, and it wasn’t too far.”

“Don’t say that,” Evalyn cut in, encouraging. “That could have been dangerous. You should have sent someone with her.”

“Everyone else was busy.” Daniel paused in his observations of the ornithopters as he tilted one upside down, where a name could be carved.

“What did you want those for anyway? One I could understand, but two? Do you know how much coin you just spent?”

“We’ll get more.” Daniel shrugged, fitting one and then the other in the bag at his waist. So useful. “I have an idea. A couple, actually, but one good one that I’ll need two for.”

“I’ll be interested in examining your final product,” Lograve commented, a little impatiently. “Considering you can just pluck rare enchanting formulae out of the air now there’s no telling what you can do, but I’m afraid we’ll have to cut your gloating short.”

“I wasn’t gloating!”

“Right. Well, let’s be off. We shouldn’t keep Rasalia or that feathered ingot waiting.” He started walking for the door, not waiting for anyone to protest. To his surprise a large figure did. The barkeeper, like many others, had been observing the exchange. Sheepishly, Lograve paid the tab for the evening meal he’d forgotten about and then coughed. “R, right. Now we’ll go.” And on the way, he directed towards Daniel, I think we will have time for you to tell me everything about this doppelganger of yours.

Daniel gulped.