Last Command of the Witheld Arc 1: Rebirth

Griffin Tucker, Great House Scion, Reborn lvl 1

Mount Discovery, Province of Aragonia

The second time Griffin woke up was much gentler than the first time. He instinctively reached for Sarah, but she wasn’t there. His hand brushed the slick hardness of the tablet he’d carried through the horror of the plasma cybercentipede nest, but he ignored it for now. He was lying in an enormous bed that was set into a rich brown tiled floor. The blankets were thick and soft and smelled of lemongrass. He blinked blearily, rubbing at his eyes and sitting up. He was still here. In his psychotic break.

He looked down at his feet. They were still encrusted with the slime or whatever it was he had slogged through in the nest. It had dried to his feet, leaving a thick crust that itched and burned. He was still naked and the rest of him was just as filthy as his feet. The blankets had once smelled like lemongrass. It now smelled primarily of plasma cybercentipede refuse.

Griffin got up and stumbled out of the bed. He had an urgent need to pee, and he looked around for the bathroom. When he’d stumbled into this room…how long ago now? Hours? A while anyway. When he’d stumbled in here, his brain had still been reeling from confusion and he’d been blindly following Kismet, feeling like he was going crazy in his own dream.

Where am I? And where’s Sarah? How’d we get separated? The last thing I remember… we were in a… a plane? Why were we on a plane? Why can’t I remember? Griffin thought, still walking around blearily trying to find the bathroom.

The room had vaulted ceilings that were two stories high, and it was divided into two main areas: a living area where the bed was and a kind of glowing pond that was ten meters across. Arranged around the bed and along the wall were large bookcases seemingly filled with dozens of volumes of the same, red-covered books. The entire room was open with very few divisions or walls. The furniture was artfully arranged to suggest different functions for different areas of the room. There was another recessed seating area with large couches arranged facing each other just past the bookshelves.

The pond was the most curious thing in the room. When they’d arrived the room had been darkened except for the pond, which glowed a bluish-purple color. The liquid inside it didn’t look like water—it seemed to reflect too much light. There were little arched bridges that led to an elevated platform with an elaborately cushioned chair.

Griffin looked around and sidled up to the pond. He let loose and sighed with relief. “That’s not the toilet.” Kismet’s voice said right in his ear.

“Aaaaaagh!” Griffin jumped and nearly fell into the pond before he regained his balance. “Don’t do that!”

“If you want to relieve yourself, there are appropriate facilities in the next room.” Kismet appeared in front of his face and floated around his head so that he was facing in the opposite direction. He now saw in a wooden wall behind some deep red settees. It had been hidden by an exotic plant with beautiful deep magenta and yellow flowers. He took a deep breath and went through the door.

To his surprise, the room was a luxurious bathroom. It wouldn’t have looked out of place in a five-star resort. There was an enormous bathtub and separate walk-in shower, a huge vanity and sink, and even a wardrobe filled with fluffy and slightly warm towels. And there was a real toilet. The persistent feeling that he was in a dream just would not leave him alone.

Kismet appeared again once he flushed the toilet. He had tried the shower tap and it had turned on with piping hot water. There was no soap and at this point, Griffin was more surprised about the absence of soap than the fact that the hot water worked. He was about to get into the shower when Kismet once again appeared in front of his face. He managed not to scream in surprise this time.

“Griffin, we need to talk about what’s going on here. You’re in quite a lot of danger even now, and I’m sure you have questions.” She squinted at him. “Are you considered sane in your native culture?”

“Am I con… I guess that depends on what you’d say qualifies for insanity. I hadn’t thought so.” He tested the water temperature with one hand and adjusted it a little cooler; he didn’t want to burn his skin off. He started unwinding the bandage on his chest. “But I’ve recently been forced to re-evaluate.” The bandage was stiff with dried-on slime and filth, and it was crusted to his skin with dried blood. “Look, I’d love to talk this through—there’s nothing more that I’d like to do cuz I have like a trillion questions—but I’m covered in grossness and I need to get clean before I can figure out if I’m here or in an elaborate hallucination.”

Kismet looked skeptical at first, but nodded, “Yes, I can see now that your mental state is somewhat fragile. Re-center yourself in the shower and then you can ask whatever questions you have. Questions are good! I have many answers to give you.” She waved goodbye and then disappeared with a little “pop” sound, which made Griffin smile.

With Kismet gone, he refocused on the bandage. It was bulky, making Griffin think it covered something serious though he couldn’t remember exactly how he’d gotten it. I’m going to have to clean it, he thought, and that means I’m gonna have to take it off and look at it. He swallowed convulsively, feeling his gorge rise at the thought.

Griffin took a shaky breath in and started unwinding the bandage. He went slowly at first, wincing when the gauze stuck to his skin. He finally got the whole thing off—it looked like they’d used yards of gauze on him—but when it all finally fell away, he touched his chest in surprise. He had been something dramatic instead of a big, weeping incision or something, there was just a faint pink scar on his chest. It didn’t even itch.

Goosebumps prickled all over him as he considered the faint scar. He remembered a deep voice saying something about…either hearts? Etherhearts? He couldn’t remember. He shook his head but before he could get too sidetracked, he got into the shower and turned on the hot water.

As he stood there under the water with his eyes closed, he ran through the last few hours in his head. It had all been such a jumble. He’d been so scared. Nothing made sense. Why was the hallway and this room in such pristine condition? Where the hell were these other centipede monsters? What had happened and where was Sarah? What about that creepy guy who had kidnapped them? What was his name? He couldn’t remember.

He stayed in the shower for a long time, scrubbing at the tarry mess stuck to him. There were sharp flecks of shell or chitin in the disgusting slurry and it smelled like rotting ass. He had no soap, and the hot water was minimally effective in cleaning it off. It left a greasy smear no matter how much he scrubbed but he was patient. He scrubbed at each spot until it was clear—as clear as it could get. When he finally got out of the shower, the water was just as hot as it had been in the beginning. His fingers were pruned, and he felt thoroughly water-logged.

The towel he took out of the linen closet in the bathroom was a thick white cloth that was very absorbent and soft, but not a cloth he’d ever encountered before. It felt like a mix of cotton and silk that managed to be warm, thick, and extremely absorbent while at the same time being one of the softest things he’d ever felt before. He tied the towel around his waist and walked out of the bathroom, peering around the huge bedroom.

The wall to his right was tantalizingly brighter than it had been, giving a diffuse golden glow to the room. Griffin sighed and walked over to one of the big couches and sat down, trying to decide what to do next. “You appear to be more stable now—a little less prone to screaming before you speak.” Kismet had reappeared sitting on his knee, completely weightless.

“I’m trying to come to grips with my insanity,” Griffin said, not looking at the tiny version of his fiancée. She tucked a wayward strand of blue hair behind her ear and scowled at him. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and closed them again. “I thought the shower would help, but it hasn’t.”

“This form was chosen to establish an immediate trust bond with you. It was intended to comfort you.” She frowned. “I see that it has instead distressed you quite a bit. It has been a long time since the System Eidolon interface was chosen—were you not aware of what a System Eidolon does?”

“I think it’s safe to say that I have no idea what you’re talking about. But I think I did get one thing: you don’t look like Sarah, right?” Griffin opened his eyes and looked back at her. She still looked up at him with Sarah’s big green eyes. She shrugged.

“Yes and no. Do you know nothing about Eidolon forms? You’re a scion of a Great House of the Eternal Empire. House Vasilias has a reputation for educating their Scions in even the most esoteric System functions. What are they teaching you?” Kismet floated up and looked at him critically.

“I’m… I don’t really—wait, you said Vasilias? August! That’s that guy’s name!” He stood up suddenly, the towel slipping off as he did. He didn’t notice as he started pacing back and forth. “He’s the guy who did this to me! Whatever this is… He had me strapped to an operating table! What in the—what did he do to me?”

Kismet kept pace with him, floating alongside him as he ranted. “He gave you the gift of Rebirth. As a scion of House Vasilias, it would be expected. I’m a little surprised that you only have one graft. Most Great Houses have Rare sets of Heirloom ethershards ready for absorption right away.

“Don’t get me wrong, the one you have is…impressive. It’s Legendary in rarity which is quite impressive. It’s not usually bound to Arcana, but it seems like your Rebirth was accomplished in… let’s call them ‘unusual’ circumstances. You certainly had your reasons. Well, I can help you—it’s my job to help you.”

Griffin stopped pacing and realized he was naked. He put his hands over his groin as he looked at Kismet. “Help me? Uh, how, how would you, uh, help? Um. Me?” He blushed. “Can you like not keep on looking at me while I’m naked?”

“As a System Eidolon, it’s my role to assist you with your System Interface, graft usage, and cultural touchpoints! It’s a little unusual these days—most people prefer the holographic user interface, but it’s a bold choice. As a System Eidolon, I have far more latitude to provide actual assistance rather than just as a flat, non-interactive interface.

“In answer to your last question, I don’t actually have eyes. I see that your education in certain basics has been, not to put too fine a point on it, nonexistent, so please don’t take offense if I’m overexplaining things.” She bobbed in front of him, “I am an etheric image construct generated by a stable enchantment that took a comforting image from your mind when your brain scan was taken. More importantly, I’m a dedicated subroutine of the System.”Griffin picked up the towel and wrapped it back around him, tighter this time. “Okay. Okay. Can you start at the beginning? Pretend I don’t have any clue what you mean. At all. An hour ago, I was in an airplane with my fiancée when this scary dude told us that the world was ending. Or maybe that he was ending it? My memory is still a little confused on that point. I’m beginning to regret getting in that airplane.” He sat back down on the couch. “Where are the windows in this place? I feel like I’m in a tomb or something.”

Kismet appeared on his knee again, this time sitting cross-legged. Her outfit had changed, and she was now in the dark blue hoodie with the flowers she’d embroidered into the sleeves by hand and the acid-washed jeans she had worn the night they’d first kissed. Her hair was pink then, but Kismet’s hair was still blue and still in a messy bun. “Touch the far wall. It’ll respond to your Great House Seal.” She pointed over to the wall that looked like frosted glass.

Griffin raised his eyebrow and walked over to the wall, avoiding a disturbingly realistic statue of a six-legged monster that resembled a cat with a head that had about five hundred teeth poking out of its mouth. It looked terrifying and Griffin had no idea what kind of person would want such a thing in their bedroom. It didn’t exactly inspire sweet dreams. He reached out a little hesitantly, then touched the wall. Nothing happened.

“Nothing’s happening,” Griffin said over his shoulder.

“Well, you’re not cycling your tensa,” Kismet said in a tone that seemed to suggest Griffin had missed something blindingly obvious. “So of course, nothing’s happening. It’s just sitting in you like some kind of, I don’t even know. A big lump.” She gestured in a circular motion with her hands, “So come on. Cycle your tensa!”

Griffin threw up his hands in frustration. “What the actual fuck is tensa?! And how do I cycle it? Are you sure you’re even speaking English?”

“Wow,” Kismet shook her head, “I had no idea you’d had absolutely no education. Still, it’s fortunate that you—or I suppose August Vasilias—chose to provide you with the System Eidolon. It’s the only option that allows System assistance. Most Great Houses have their own training regimen for their Reborn so it’s rare that any of them expend the necessary resources to make the specialty request. They always think they know better.” She held up a hand, forestalling his protest.

“I understand now that you lack the context to understand much of what I just said. So, let’s start at the beginning. You, Griffin Vasilias, are Reborn. This means that your biological heart was recently cut out of your chest and replaced with an etherheart.” Once again, she held up her hand as Griffin opened his mouth to interrupt. “Let me finish. It’s difficult enough to explain all this to someone—I’ve never had to. Everyone’s grown up knowing all this. I’d expected to be deep in discussions about your Class progression plan and what your goals for team building at the Ivory Gate were. Don’t distract me.

“Like I said, you’re Reborn. The operation you went through was a combination of a medical procedure and a magical ritual. It’s the most well-known and important magic ritual in the world, called the Ritual of Rebirth. It’s what changes mortals into immortals and it’s typically the ticket to the good life, assuming you can survive past your Stone Gate Quest.”

Griffin was unable to keep quiet any longer and he broke in, “Stone Gate Quest? Ritual of Rebirth? It sounds like someone’s Dungeons and Dragons campaign.”

“I’m getting to that. Now close your eyes.” Griffin just looked at her. “Close your eyes. Trust me.”

“I have no idea why you think saying ‘trust me’ would have any impact on whether or not I trust you.” He closed his eyes. “I’m just saying. It’s not exactly trust-inducing.”

“Tensa,” Kismet explained, her voice taking on a lecturing tone, “is the name given to the arcane forces that empower grafts. It’s essentially an energy source that Reborn can absorb from the environment and use.”