An Age of Mysterious Memories

I’m more than a little surprised to see Induul leaning against a wall, seemingly waiting for me. I’m further surprised when he apologizes, “Schism, hey, about earlier. I maybe got a little snippy and maybe, okay I definitely sounded like an ass. Sorry I got defensive and cranky. I was embarrassed about the crappy hunt.”

Gnawing on my lip, I raise an eyebrow while I await Induul’s further explanation, if he’s going to offer one. Thankfully he continues, “So, yeah, there’s that, and, well, how do I even do this? I want to thank you. For saving my life, *again*. For looking out for me, *again*. For making this unwinnable war look entirely winnable. For a lot of things. I hope you won’t hold my asshole’ish attitude against me, I swear it’s the withdrawal.”

Inhaling deeply through my nose, and exhaling sharply, I’m about to respond, but Induul excuses himself, “So, uh, that’s all. I’ve said my piece. So now I should go check in with Brains, err, Ill, and the rest of the Dormir. See you around Schism, probably on the battlefield. Or something.”

That went about as well as I could possibly have hoped for. I gaze after Induul as he jogs away up the tunnels to Solace proper. Something’s still nagging me though. It almost feels too neatly tied up, or something. I wonder if—.

My thought train is interrupted as a hefty hand heartily claps my shoulder. Deli announces, “Good to see you Schism! Better to see you fit and well, again, after so many offensives, and what’s more, driving off the Damnations a scant few hours ago.” She pauses, grumbles to herself, and corrects, “Day and a half, whatever.”

Blushing and chuckling, I clasp Deli’s proffered hand firmly before responding, “Hey Deli, I’m glad you’re up and about too.” I immediately sober as I recall why Deli might not be in the best shape, before continuing, “The bug invasion the other day was, well, rough. I’m sorry that you went through that, that any of your friends went through that. I—.”

She sighs and shakes her head before interrupting me, “Couldn’t have known Schism. Y’couldn’t have known. We lost good folk. Some even friends of mine, yeah. We’re in a war. Surprises and loss are a part of that. Even if this one came out of the blue, or rather, the darkened ‘Neath.”

Nodding along, I puff a sigh, releasing a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, and relaxing muscles I didn’t realize I’d been tensing. When I center myself slightly, I agree, “Yeah, you’re right. Thank you. Have you met our quartermaster yet, Leezahna? I’m transferring all distribution to her, effective as of, well, a few hours ago. Everyone can still use the main shop stall freely, but she’ll be handling more than just tallying now for the important resources. Most important are the legendary metals, and gems.”

Facepalming for stating something so obvious, I ramble, “I mean, I guess that goes without saying. I doubt she’s foolish enough to hassle anyone about using wood and coal. If she does seem to be going overboard, could I ask you to be gentle with her, and just point her to get into contact with me either telepathically or through the goggles?”

Deli coughs gruffly once, but nods and firmly claps me on the back before responding, “Aye, easily enough. I’ve got a friend looking after my boy, but I wanted to double-down down here. Not my favorite thing to do, leaving the lad alone so shortly after claiming him as kin, but he’s been a right sport about it. I think he understands—I really do—about how deep in this war we are, and what the stakes are. Lad lost three parents to Terrorzin already.”

Her visage droops, sadness evident in her features before she collects herself to finish, “I’m sure you’ve got places to be, and battles to win Schism. We’ll have to put a raincheck on that drink until all’s said and done, sadly. I’ll pour one out for ya.”

Before I can agree with Deli about having places to be, she turns towards the forgeworks and saunters away, waving backwards towards me over her shoulder without looking my way. I’m left scratching my chin, pondering the phrase, “pour one out.” It seems a wasteful sentiment, not that I care altogether too much what happens with alcohol around here, so long as people are responsible and don’t get hurt. I guess it doesn’t really matter. Deli was being kind and thoughtful. That’s what matters. I’ll take it to heart, and carry that warmth with me.

Along a wavelength that I’m still coming to grips with even having, I hear, “Schism, it happened again! Three more sheets of, of, of Orichalcum.”

Responding telepathically to Leezahna, I try to assuage her, “Thanks for keeping me apprised. I’m not sure what we can do about it. We can’t divert the attention of any of our fighters or support personnel. If you happen to know someone you could put on the case, I’d be glad of it, but otherwise, just keep keeping track like you have been. I’m sorry I can’t be there with you to puzzle this out.”

Trepidatiously, our Quartermaster responds, “O-okay. Okay. I’ll, um, I’ll do that. I’m coordinating with our inventors, and some Spellknights right now, but, but, well, like you said, diverting them for such a small percent of our resources seems wasteful. I, I, I’ll do my duty. The best that I can. I swear it Schism. Um, g-good luck, glp, out there. D-don’t die.”

As I’m about to think Leezahna and I have actually graduated to something I’d be willing to call friendship, just for the sake of it, I catch her mental monologue subcurrent thinking, “Or maybe do.” Oof. I feel the raw chagrin that percolates through Leezahna’s subconscious to the fore, at having been noticed for a desire she’d struggled to not express. It’s not like I haven’t had some pretty intrusive thoughts over the years. I’m not going to admonish her for having feelings.

Hm, admonish the adventurers. That’s what Harriet said to someone, so very long ago now. Could that have been Astridus? A human-form Damnation? What if it was a Sister Hidden In the Mist? If they were simply guiding us along, to begin our Rayileklian journey on-schedule, it would almost make sense for them to do it in such a roundabout way.

Whoever it was didn’t get us formally banished from Autumn Brook. Mostly what they accomplished was getting Harriet to worry about our safety. That prompted her to get us passage out of town, the direction we needed to go. One way or another, whomever it was wanted us to begin our adventure as soon as possible. My skull is aching, and I’m not sure if it’s because these are dangerous memories, or just the few hours of sleep I’d gotten, with pushing my body to both perform more, and recover more quickly, each day.

Drawing a deep breath, and puffing a sigh, I let the issue drop, releasing tension as I do so. I’ve got plenty to think about and worry about in the present, without dwelling on determining curiosities from the past. Still, that brings to mind the fact that Harriet knew about the Felgres in advance. Were she and Daffodil the only ones? Was it a long-passed-down secret amongst Aasimovians, leaders and guardians specifically? Or even more specifically, just those from Autumn Brook? If so, I can see how Harriet would have been reticent to try convincing the rest of the Aasimovian leaders to preemptively evacuate.

At the time I was a bit furious with her, and simultaneously weary. Looking back though, I sympathize. Could I singlehandedly convince everyone in Solace to evacuate at the drop of a hat, if we didn’t already know that Terrorzin is days from our doorstep? I doubt it. Two weeks ago, I’d have suggested we get community leaders together, to vote on an evacuation plan, or strategy, if the topic had even come up. That’s where Harriet was at mentally at the time back then, when her initial fear and shock over the possibility of the Felgres being loose wore off.

Right, anyway, catch up to present-day Reggie. Right right. Where are we at with Onyx Dawn members? Let’s see, based on the security center’s views of various scrying sensors I’ve got peppered throughout Solace, I think I can spot most everyone. Vyela and Gilmeshtu are taking a breather in the feasting hall. Fen is down by Mah’ruke, apparently checking in with Teuila on occasion as she zips by. Speaking about zooming and zipping, Pawn is making rounds about Solace, as usual. I wonder if she even got a chance to say goodbye to Ixeyla. I grimace and gulp, hoping I didn’t just set her up and tear her away from Ixey for the next week or so.

Luni and Kinzul are up in Kinzul’s den, discussing something in hushed whispers, so that I couldn’t overhear even if I wanted to be a snoop and have the security center patch me in to their audio feed. Where’s Prinny? Hm, she’s up in the library, conversing with some kobolds who’ve temporarily taken on Nala’s position, more or less. What about the Paradox Dormir? Induul said he’d be heading off to check in with Illy, but it looks like Illy, Veril, and Farzhis are winging their way towards Vieriss Valley at the moment. I don’t see him with them.

Frowning, I really hope it doesn’t turn into a comedy of errors, with Induul showing up late to each objective or engagement, feeling embarrassed or dejected, and that causing him to perpetuate the cycle. Genre senses are guessing that that’s going to be a thing, fifty fifty odds. Ugh.

I’ve got to check in with the Strategists-Eight, coordinate with them, and help spread the news of a backup evacuation effort option. Lucky will be doing his best over the next day or so to connect Vieriss to Verdimenn. Or rather, to a hidden bunker under what used to be Wistenzlia peak, behind rows of slightly-more-obvious hidden bunkers, designed to draw Terrorzin’s forces in and decimate them with explosives. Poor Lucky’s probably going to be digging all week up until the final confrontation.

I’m going to be stuck running through logistics for half the day. Then I’ll be leading the first true push against Terrorzin’s forces, assuming he’s already broken through my natural blockade, which I’m fairly sure he has. He has us in a vague pincer maneuver, as there are still siege forces out here from Mah’ruke to the plains. They’re mostly routed, or driven back. But if there’s any communication that they have the full might of Terrorzin’s horde coming in as backup soon, I’m sure their efforts will be redoubled.

It sucks that we can’t just commit to a full-on offensive and end this whole thing once and for all, but that’d be deadly, suicidal for our paltry number of forces. Even assuming we funnel foes into a chokepoint, they can throw forces at us for days, maybe weeks at a time. They’d completely wear us down if we were to try to make our stand right now.

That’s not even figuring in how suicidal it would be to take on Terrorzin himself in close-quarters, where all of our forces might be subjected to his freezing aura. If he bum-rushed us, he’d take out the entire Onyx Dawn, save Kinzul, in a matter of moments. I fear our lady wouldn’t be long in following after, in that scenario.

Anyway, no sense dreaming up nightmare scenarios about plans we wouldn’t be foolish enough to rely on. We’re still doing our hit-and-runs, guerrilla warfare style. We just need to be a bit pickier, and a bit quicker on the exfiltration. I wonder if we could amp up our infiltration as well? Would I be willing to risk anyone attempting to go under-cover into Terrorzin’s horde? No, no, not really.

I’m pretty certain I’ve been informed that he has either some scrying powers, scrying artifacts, or oracles on-hand. They aren’t foolproof, but we can’t rely on them failing. I won’t gamble with the lives of our operatives. Not that they’re mine to gamble with.

Okay, focus up Reggie. The Strategists-Eight are committed to pulling all-nighters for the rest of the week, in order to maintain top-levels of communication, battlefield reports, and any updates to strategy that are needed. Waving at Elshon, Prent, Nietru, Burshis, Aaront, Geskae, Shrulniz, and Aktixas, I enter the security center.

My attempt to start apologizing for napping is interrupted with firm shaking of heads. Nietru offers up, “Worry not Schism. As our Tenith suggested, we’re allotting time for rest as needed, and factoring in weariness and recuperation as best we’re able, on the fly. Our timetable officially starts now. I’m recalling the entire scout network, save Spymaster, in order to have them ascertain prime targets, as well as to overlook the routes our forces will take into and out of Vieriss Valley each day. We don’t want anyone walking into an ambush that sneaks by our front line, or pulls away from the primary siege force already on our doorstep.”

Nodding along with Nietru, I’m curious as to why she’s not recalling Spymaster. Thankfully, she informs me privately, telepathically, “Our Lady has Spymaster attending to a matter of utmost importance, even I do not know what it is. I only know that she’s broken off contact with the scout network entirely, and is no longer checking in. I am assured by our Lady that she is alive and well however.”

Mulling over what I’ve just been told, I’m a bit embarrassed that my features droop. I don’t want anyone in my present company to get the wrong idea as to why my mood has lessened. Despite that, I keep my telepathic walls up momentarily as I conjecture. I figured Errissa would be our ace in the hole for reconnaissance, due to her Latent. What could Kinzul possibly have her attending to, of more importance than a walking apocalypse staring down our doorstep? Is she preemptively getting Errissa to check in on this Beast of the End madness?

Regardless, I put my brain train on pause as I get up to speed with our Strategists-Eight. I’ve got several courses of action necessary for completion before I can start leaving Solace. Plus, when I do, I need to take the first load of barriers and explosives and bots. For now, I’d like to check in with Ixey, Zayzi, and the survivors in Jeegoobotstan. I haven’t bothered fabricating or purchasing new plexiglass enclosures with audiojacks for these couple of mirrors.

At least a small part of the reason I haven’t done that, is so that it’s not a hassle to loan the mirror to Littlebit so that she can chat with Tiktik throughout the day as she gets lonely. I’m pretty sure she’ll be less clingy with me, now that she’ll have a direct line of communication with Tiktik nearly non-stop. Not that I altogether minded all that much, really. I just have those stupid Fakeworld notions of mono-amory and romances and whatnot. Or maybe they’re human notions? I suppose most people in Autumn Brook were in monogomous relationships, if they were in one at all.

I somehow just keep defaulting to human behavioral thought processes, or something. I have no idea why. Then again, it was years into my life before I knew I was a changeling-fae. Or uh, was it months into my second life? Wait, no, that’s when I learned that changeling-fae get mana residue corruption sickness. I learned about my species back at the Miracle Oak. I think. Ugh, it’d be nice to have access to my logs. Then again, it might take hours of digging through them to satisfy idle curiosities like this.

Breathe Reggie. I know, I know. Shush. You shush. No you shu—wait. Yeah doofus. Huffing, I sigh wearily. My psyche has always been a little off-kilter, a little bonkers. At least I’m not totally nuts. I think. I hope. Could you imagine if I were? If one time, when I went to sleep, or went catatonic, or checked out in some way or another, if I haven’t actually come back from that. If I’m just having one last dream, that seems like lifetimes? Brr. The thought gives me the shivers. I don’t totally recall why I got on this topic.