The Stained Tower

Earl stands next to me as I sit in a redwood tree at the center of Forbidden Willow of Fairy’s Pantry in my sable form. It’s the middle of the night, and I am endeavoring to ease my mind by working on something.

Not long after returning to the Tower, Earl mentioned something about my Paste Pearl adaptation and a new ‘Special Raw’ water I acquired from Mithridates called Paradox-Arcadia. The water I had to get from the BDP, they had a sample from Mithridates’s former Domain, and I cannot make it myself until I expand Fairy’s Pantry. 

When I did so, Terra spotted me. She told me she was waiting on Lorcan to arrive at the medical tent. After which, I was told that I would have a visitor later this afternoon—a curious development has occurred. We had a chat about some things, and I offered to help if I could, yet she said I should return to finish preparations here.

So I returned… But, aye, the liquid I am testing. 

If this very simple method Earl recommends works, my ability to manage the mutations of creatures could be considerably improved!

I lift one of the Paste Pearls and roll it about in my hand. The Paste Pearls are scary, and one of the most notable examples of why is sleeping beneath me—The Elderly Rats. 

As much as I adore the Elderly Rats, the paste made the Elderly Rats change from insignificant sewer rats to something that builds… I glance down where a primitive wooden fence girdles the blueberry bushes and burning violet willow tree. Aye, it’s a simple standing log fence with a plethora of faults, but nevertheless, these creatures were dwelling in human filth mere months ago. They are now wearing makeshift armor, wielding primitive weapons, and constructing shoddy barricades! Many people in the camps cannot do that much; it’s simply too much growth! 

Glancing toward Gen, who is rolling around in the grass, attempting to use his tongue to scoop up fallen blueberries, all I can do is shake my head. {They may be more intelligent than Gen! Gen at least has some human features!}

“Statement: If the Mistress is concerned, the Mistress should be aware that the rats are as intelligent as the rats will be able to achieve without further mutations.”

I hear a crackle and point off into the distance, where a fire wiggles. {They discovered fire, Earl! I did not bestow such knowledge upon them!}

“Query: Didn’t the Mistress burn down a building while they watched?”

{That was the Bishop’s fault! Besides, that is not enough to teach someone to kindle fire. It was simply something that happened.}

Earl shrugs. “Explanation: Fire or no, the rats are limited. The rat’s spirit and fleshling brains are simply too limited for them to advance much further.”

Shaking my head, I reach for a seething kettle of water and a tiny glass cup. {Well, at least the Elderly Rats seem to be capable of protecting the inner forest from encroachment. I shall be bringing them their children tomorrow, so I pray they may keep defending it.} 

The water drains into the cup, looking yellow, but other than that, it’s clear. My head turns toward a jar that contains the original form of this water. It is yellow and bursting with stringy green algae, which I am told smells foul. I did not do anything to this water, nor did I remove any of the green algae. All I did was boil it on the Elderly Rats fire, and the algae simply vanished.

{It worked; it’s a bit yellow but clear!}

With a grin, Earl hugs her lantern. “Statement: This one cannot take the credit. The Mistress is the one that consumed Mithridates’s body to acquire some of the information, and the Mistress’s soul is the one that had the rest of the information on the Paradox-Arcadia.”

{Aye, but I did not even see the wall for Paradox-Arcadia after eating Mithradates’s body. I was too busy seeing his memories to even know I had eaten any!} My head darts between the water and Earl. {But is it as thou said? I can mix the Paste Pearl with this and use it upon the insects as if it is paint!}

“Response: If the Mistress keeps the mixture above a particular temperature, then yes. However, if the Mistress allows the water to cool, the algae will regrow, ruining the concoction.”

{...That’s rather strange. Dost thou know why the substance is like that?}

Earl smirks. “Statement: The Mistress’s soul actually remembers a fable concerning Paradox-Arcadia. It may lead to the Mistress seeing both the water and the algae in a totally different light.” Her lantern squeaks as she steps over and drops next to me. “Query: Would the Mistress like to hear it before this one returns to ensure the little weakling spirit, Nick, has not been enslaved?”

{A fable?} I nod. {Prithee, tell me, I could use a good story… But only if it’s short, if Nick cannot come into Fairy’s Pantry thee shouldst return to check on him.}

---

That afternoon, my eyes glance around the small encampment established in the heart of the Foggy Forest. A few spots of raised wooden platforms for tents, a small privy toward the edge, a wooden fence around the outside, and the occasional skittering of an insect darting in the underbrush.

Back in my arc suit, I sit upon one of the wooden platforms and kick my legs.  ‘It’s a rather decent encampment, in all honesty.’

In my hand is some of the green algae from Paradox-Arcadia. After the legend I learned from Earl and some other things I have noticed, I will give the algae a tad more attention. ‘Aye, I have not done this since the natives showed me how to, back in Roanoke, but I shall try.’ 

My hand pulls the algae outwards, and I begin to work with them, twisting them together.

Behind me, I hear the sounds of footsteps. “Miss Nightingale, are you sure I don’t need to stay?”

I glance over toward Chance, nod. Setting the algae to the side, I write on my whiteboard, “Aye, thou art free to go. Thou hast been awakened by Dr. Jager, and most of thy companions have been as well. I only ask that thee assist Byron in moving the camp to the Gate.”

“Alright, if you’re sure. It’s kind of dangerous here, so I was just concerned.”

“It is, but Noah and Ruby are near. Moreover, it shall be becoming yet more dangerous soon. Thou shouldest gather Pilgrim Hill Schematics and be on thy way. I thank thee for all of thy help… And I am sorry thy companion, Francisco, awakening did not go as intended, I pray he shall wake from his stupor soon.”

“…Y-yeah, I’m sure he will. And you did warn us all that this could happen.” Chance rubs the back of his head and chuckles. “Oh, by the way, I heard you really knocked ‘em dead outside with your speech last night.”

‘Ah, a humorous response, though I do plan to be a bit silly today.’ I wiggle my finger at the man before me. ‘This is serious business, Chance! I shall be releasing and creating more predators today, including three very special experiments! Only the Mistress, an insect man, a single epidemiologist, an ape, and several unbelievably well-armed escorts can handle such matters!’

Chance stands there for a moment and gives me a subtle nod as if he understands.

Staring at the man, I recall something I read regarding him back when I was picking people to bestow tokens upon. “Chance, thou wert a crab fisherman? May I get thy assistance with knot tying and cord making?”

He sniffs the air, glances at the algae, and then back at me. “I’ll coach you through it.”

I nod.

---

An hour or so later, I linger near the Gate of the Rich and Destitute, watching as everyone unloads the last delivery of insects Fairy’s Pantry will be receiving before opening. The BDP camp has been moved here so that they may execute in case of an emergency. There are two gates in Fairy’s Pantry right now, so at least this one shall see some kind of regular use now. As for Chance and Pilgrim Hill Schematics, they have left alongside all but eight of the BDP assistants. 

However, two people are coming inside for a short visit. Of course, one of these is my visitor, and fortunately for me, Terra has already spoken to them, so I merely need to test him and make him sweat a tad. The other is Mrs. Jäger. Doctor Jäger informed her to come here as there is something I have for her to do if she is willing.

Taking a seat at a round, metal table beneath a fig tree, I motion toward the man with blue eyes and black hair that shows a few rubs of gray.

He glances at the ground, straightens his back, and stops next to me, reaching out his hand. “Miss Nightingale, it’s good to see you again.”

I nod, shake his hand, and then write, “Aye, Kenneth Blunts, it’s good that we finally get to have our meeting. If I recall thou art the Manhattan Borough President. Or has that changed?”

Pulling out the chair across from me, he takes a seat and then answers, “Yes, much to Congresswoman Callari’s objections, I am officially the Former Manhattan Borough President. Due to the fact that the position of ‘Manhattan Borough President’ hardly exists anymore, I’ve tendered my resignation and elected to take your Mistress up on her offer. I will be the Tower’s Resource and Culture Promotion Liaison.”

Little droplets of water tumble from the tree and tap upon the table. ‘Oh, but art thee qualified, let’s find out!’

I reach under the table and remove a single object, a jar filled with yellow water and abundant raw algae—Paradox-Arcadia. Afterwhich, I write, “How wouldst thou promote something such as this?”

“Uhm, If I’m correct, the job seems to involve, as the name suggests, the promotion of Tower resources in the daily life of the people that have chosen to stay in Central Park so...” He takes the jar and twists the top, his face turns a light green with a cough he puts the lid back on. “I-I could see this being a local delicacy if prepared properly. I’m not a scientist, but I think it could also make an excellent biofuel.”

For a moment, I wait to see if he can come up with anything more to add. When he cannot, I wave toward Mrs. Jäger and Shriek. “Wouldst thou enjoy a story, Kenneth? I do not believe thee understand, but nothing within this Tower is as it appears,” I write as the five people approach.

“I’d be stupid to turn down a story from a fairy. It’s a literal Fairy tale.”

Shriek chuckles. “That’s what I said too.”

Shaking my head, I write, “Then first, allow me to show thee something.”

Reaching under the table, I remove Mithriadates’s crossbow. All three of its top strings are tense and waiting for someone to release them. “The strings of this crossbow are also made from the algae.”

I raise the crossbow and point it at a tree.

“Oh, that’s my queue!” Shriek trots over to my side and braces my shoulder.

My hand moves to the front of a crossbow where there is a lever that will release the strings. ‘I still have no idea how Mithridates made this look easy.’

Yanking the lever, the three strings crackle in the wind, emitting a heavy bang that echoes through the camp. The crossbow hits my shoulder, the chair leans back, yet Shriek’s support keeps me from toppling to the ground.

“M-my god. That thing has as much recoil as a shotgun! How much tension is in those strings!?”

At the same time, Mrs. Jäger walks over carrying a kettle of hot water. This kettle has Paradox-Arcadia in it as well. I nod at Mrs. Jäger and then pour the hot kettle over the cold table.

As the Paradox-Arcadia spreads out and cools, green algae vines spread, tracing the water’s path. Before long, the entire table is a mass of algae that grips to its surface comparable to glue.

“What thou need to understand is that everything inside the Tower is not ordinary. Not even something as modest as a jar of algae.” Removing more items from beneath the table, I line them up atop the algae for him to see. These items include things like white-hot flint, figs, some glass skewers, and a cord of algae I crafted earlier in the day. “That’s why I want thou to take items like these and find more ways to use them than what may be obvious. Then spread the knowledge about the camps.”

“I-I mean, I’m sure these are all incredible, but I’m not a designer. It’s not like I can just invent things that people would want to use! I would have never thought about making algae into bowstrings or that it had some kind of uncanny ability to spread and grow.”

I erase my whiteboard, think for a moment, and then write, “Seek out the Glass Quandry, the RWR Alliance, and Pilgrim Hill Schematics. I believe they all might have their own interest in assisting thee with thy new occupation.”

He nods. “If they’re the groups I think they are, they’d all have capable people with the motivation to help us. I’ll get in touch with their leaders.”

I nod and then raise a hand toward Mrs. Jäger. “And do not forget thy new culture assistant. She will be assisting thou in a rather unique way.”

Seeing me raise my hand toward her, Mrs. Jäger looks around restlessly. She glances to her side and waves toward her husband, attempting to get him to come over and translate what’s happening.

Kenneth watches this and raises an eyebrow. “…No offense, but I only know English, and I don’t think she speaks English, does she?”

“No. She doesn’t,” Shriek answers with a shrug.

Mrs. Jäger looks at all the people watching her. She smiles and tilts her head.

---

In the distance, I hear the calls of various insects, many of which I cannot even wager a guess to whom or what they may belong to.

The crackle of fire resounds from nearby, illuminating a small field of medicinal white herbs and a brown sack loaded with my supplies.

On this night, I shall be gracing what I hope shall be the more unique beasts of Fairy’s Pantry with a custom form. These beasts shall be sculpted not with haze but from Paste Pearls with the assistance of the Paradox-Arcadia mixture.

My eyes glance at the six wiggling insects that I have suspended at the heart of a tool I crafted from wood. 

The tool is rather simple. Two flexible tree limbs bent and tied into rings; one ring is set vertical and one horizontal. The horizontal ring fits within the vertical ring and is held together by friction alone. Then I tie two strings to the rings, making a cross. I cut the strings, and then I tie the caterpillar into it using the now four strings. 

Its purpose is to make it so I can essentially rotate the insects in any direction I wish and apply the paste paint to it from any side. It is deliberately fragile, and it should fall apart easily if the insect starts to struggle with any real strength, which would only occur if it was evolving. 

I have named my new tool a ‘sprite easel’ as it is a mystery what may grow from it, same as my Glister Squire skill. The latter is something I realized after reflecting more on the Cosmic System's peculiar inclusion of brackets around the ‘[Sprite] Knight’ skill. The meaning of ‘sprite’ is often obscure and can denote many, many things, unlike the other two skills that were on the list. Angel, demon, fairy, ghost, anything may burst from my sprite easel. ...Though, I do hope the sprite skill is a bit more narrow.

Moving to my fire, I take a seat next to the boiling Paradox-Arcadia and take it by the handle. The water whirls as a broken stream of its body trickles into four small metal bowls, and the pot is placed near the fire. I place the four bowls back in the pot, allowing it to float atop the surface. This will allow me to keep the mixture hot while I operate.

I hear the squeak of a lantern and glance back to discover Earl standing in the field of white flowers, watching me curiously. She does not speak but simply wanders over and squats by the fire.

Removing a granite mortar and pestle alongside seven empty vials, I begin the work. All five of my Paste Pearls go into the mortar and pestle.

The sound of my pestle hitting against the pearls mixes with the crackle of the fire and the howl of insects. A pearl cracks open, exposing a spiral of various purples, blues, greens, blacks, grays, and reds.

I break it down further and then repeat this with the four other pearls. When they are all around the size of corn kernels, that is when the actual grinding begins.

The more I grind, the more I am surprised by how dry and coarse the pearls are; it’s totally different than the pre-adaptation paste. They now behave more like a mineral, much closer to salt or sand. That is far better than I could have hoped for; it will make everything easier.

When all the significant grit has been ground down, I take a metal plate I brought and empty the fine pearl powder out along the plate. 

Setting the plate on the ground, I start to distribute them into seven piles of similar colors. Sweep them to one side, sweep them to another, remove some red, remove some purple. This process goes on for so long that I end up having to stoke the fire three times before finishing.

I add each color to their own vial and then inspect the first four. The first four are familiar in color, though I am uncertain they share any of the properties. Regardless, from henceforth, I shall call them alchemic sable crux, alchemic vermillion pith, alchemic heliotrope sand, and alchemic hoary languish. In all honesty, I shall likely refer to them as alchemic sable and so forth, but I find it’s merely practical to have descriptive names for substances.

Using a marker, I write the names on the four vials and then proceed to inspect the final three: pink, blue-gray, and then a bluish-green. These I give the tentative names, alchemic rose sand, alchemic smoke ash, and alchemic enigma. The latter is because the green hue is a bit of a mystery in contrast to the other six colors.

I gather all seven together and choose to store the alchemic hoary, smoke ash, and rose sand in my bag.

My eyes drift back toward the pot of scolding Paradox-Arcadia and the four floating bowls. {Thou art certain this shall work properly, Earl?}

Earl thinks for a moment and then nods before adding, “Note: This one cannot predict the fleshlings' results.”

While removing the four bowls from the hot water, I respond, {...I am aware; I shan’t stay to see them evolve. To be frank, these are beasts for the Pilgrims to slay. They very well could be their ‘Wretched Rats.’ If they are a significant danger to me, it’s thy responsibility to inform me.}

“Response: This one is happy the Mistress has abandoned the notion of composing only feeble fleshlings.” She then giggles and moves closer to me. “Confession: This one is curious to see the Mistress’s creations.”

{As am I,} I respond, shaking my head.

With the four bowls in front of me, I begin adding the ground pearls to each of them. The little beads of coarse paste mix in the water, dying the tiny bit of water with overpowering color. One black, one red, one purple, and the last, I make into a reddish-brown as I merely wished to see if it was possible to mix substances. That is what much of this is, of course, a chance to learn. 

Reaching into my bag, I remove glass skewers I made while practicing my mana crunch ability in anticipation of my battle against Mithridates. I have quite a lot of them lying about because of that. Thus I mix the bowls with the skewer and ensure they have a rather thick consistency. With that done, I place all four bowls back into the pot to float and keep warm. This pot and the bowls have essentially become my watery palette of paint. [1]

I take my first two spirit easels, both of which contain glasswing caterpillars. This is part of my plan. Six insects, three species, all of which are female insects. I will paint each species in the exact same manner, adding defining features to them as I do so. If these features emerge after they evolve, then I shall know that I can manage their mutations with much more finesse than the chance creatures I have been creating with haze exposure alone.

Taking a glass skewer, I stare at it and then the four paints. ‘This shall be the first time I have painted anything noteworthy since Sir Mouser and I… Nay. It does not matter.’

{Earl, may I hear the Paradox-Arcadia story once more? I require inspiration!}

“...Response: This one will tell it again if it will help the Mistress.”

I nod. {Aye, once I begin painting, I must work quickly, and it would be of great help. Oh, and prithee, tell me the more robust variant I told Kenneth earlier.}

Earl purses her lips and raises an eyebrow.

{...Not that thy own variant was not good! I merely prefer more rich and heroic expressions and words.}

Narrowing her eyes, she simply nods, and so I begin.

My skewer dips into the purple paint, a bright color. When my skewer hits the back of the caterpillar, it stops moving. 

Earl’s voice echoes in the dark forest. “Long-Winded Reminder: In the primeval material world, there existed a land drowning in spiritual energies and opulent beyond imagination—Arcadia. [2] As the ancient story goes, all of this was because of Arcadia’s water.”

I begin drawing patterns along its back, mimicking something that might be seen in a stained glass window. As I sketch the design, the water cools on its back, and algae begins to trace my skewer’s paint lines. The alga grows over the top of the paint, holding it firmly against the caterpillar’s body. It’s almost as if I am painting with life itself.

This is precisely what we hoped would happen.

Earl continues, “Arcadia’s water was said to be the purest water that ever graced the lips of material beings. Its medicinal properties were rumored to be legendary, and if someone drank a cup full, not only would it cure all spiritual damage, the person's life could be significantly extended.”

The caterpillar’s back is painted in blues and purples and ever-spreading veins of algae that start to encase its lower body like a cocoon. Atop its forehead, I attempt something different, building two horn-like protrusions from the paint. As the alga grows up the protrusions, I swap to the second caterpillar and hastily repeat the process.

“Yet, next door to Arcadia, there was a village by the name of Noisome Moor. Noisome Moor was a village built by the lost and for the lost. A village of refugees from a land that had fallen into insanity after dabbling in forces too far beyond themselves.”

Finishing the two glasswing caterpillars, I rotate them in the easel, giving them quick inspections. Purple around their eyes, some red where the cocoon of algae has not grown on its back, and then some accent lines in brown paint. 

They are brimming with color and shapes by the time I finish, and Earl continues, “This village was jealous of Arcadia’s water. As their own was dense in vegetation and strong with the taste of sulfur. The only magical quality it carried was its putrefied, sour smell that kept predators away from the village.”

In my hand is now the second easel, and this one contains a doodlebug. The most repulsive insect I have ever seen, with a name I adore. For it, I start by painting its body a mix of black and reddish-brown.

“In bitterness, residents of Noisome Moor got together to decide how they would handle this situation. That’s when one of the residents mentioned seeing a powerful monster deep within the foul bogs of the dead and mad moorlands at the edge of their decrepit homes. They decided to pursue this lead.”

My skewer is covered in algae, so I toss it to the side and retrieve a new one. With my new skewer, I start making brown marks on its back and then red lines to accent its neck and face. I set it aside and repeat everything with the second doodlebug.

“So the residents went into the old moor and slew the abominations that their madness had wrought, fueled by nothing but their envy for Arcadia. Yet that did not stop them, as in a hollow in the earth they found it, an old beast known as a Muskeg-Uktena.”

The doodlebugs have become so encased in algae by this point, I cannot work with them further, so I set them to the side. All that remains is the third species, a species that was actually delivered by accident today. We requested more four o’clock moth caterpillars, but a few moth larvae that had recently hatched were mixed in. I found them fascinating as the little worm has the ability to mimic a snake.

“And so the residents approached the Muskeg-Uktena. It rose from its fetid pool, a serpent with rows of teeth and antlers like that of a deer. A beast that hailed from the Colossi Continent, all the way across the great sea. As the water cascaded from its prodigious body, it shrieked an earth rattling roar, sending the residents to their knees. The water bumped against their heads, and they petitioned the being for its help against Arcadia.”

Along the larva’s back, I trace the false eyes and mouth that help it impersonate a snake. I make them bright red and then run vermillion lines along its back. The algae follows every swipe of my skewer. A tiny Uktena is what I am attempting though it’s challenging as I am not an artist by any means.

“Noisome Moor was successful, though the details were lost, the Muskeg-Uktena agreed to give them a vial of algae that once clung to the hide of a thought to be an extinct species of Kelpie. However, the Muskeg-Uktena warned them: ‘Listen closely, thin-skinned meat, this is no simple weed for it’s said to have a soul all its own, and that soul yearns to return to that which no longer exists. If this vial is emptied into the waters of Arcadia, the algae will become ravenous. The water’s own properties will fuel it, enabling it to find it wherever it may develop.’”

With the algae encasing the larva, I take the second larva and repeat what I did with the first. After making the vermillion eyes and lines, I use the sable paint to make what favors a maw upon its false snake-like body. While the algae veins spread along its torso, I try to build horn-like structures upon its head by dabbing black drops one after another. 

“Before the residents could leave, the Muskeg-Uktena graced them with his final words, ‘Forever inseparable. Ever searching. Never finding.’ and then he sank into his green waters. The remainder of what happened was lost, and the Mistress’s soul remembers no more. Though the mere existence of Paradox-Arcadia suggests that Noisome Moor didn’t pay much mind to the Muskeg-Uktena’s warning.”

I look over my six insects, all of which are encased in algae cocoons. ‘As Earl says, as long as it’s not above a certain temperature, the algae spreads to everything Paradox-Arcadia stains.’

Seeing the Cosmic System’s wall, I tilt my head. ‘Humorism? For painting insects?’ I glance at the ground, thinking. ‘Not only have I not had time to focus on my humorism skill, but Terra’s reaction when I showed her my credentials was… stiff, almost a bit pitiful. That and the Cosmic System’s message have made me rather self-conscious about discussing it.’

“Statement: As the Mistress should be,” Earl says behind.

{...What does that mean?}

“Answer: This one is no expert on material beings, but this one saw the Cosmic System’s messages through the Mistress’s eyes. What this one took from its message is that the whole thing is distorted nonsense.”

{Oh. But...} I gaze at the ground and fiddle with the mortar and pestle. My hazy nails scrape at the mortar’s wall. {It was so difficult for me to learn what I could. I tried so hard... It was so hard.}

“Response: The Mistress neglected the word, ‘distorted.’ What this one understood from the Cosmic System is that humans have misinterpreted what it does or even appended a bunch of primitive human blather to it to make it appear like it was doing something.”

My head turns to Earl. {Distorted?}

She nods. “Explanation: To put it in a way the Mistress can better understand, it’s as if a blacksmith is attempting to use a spinning wheel as an anvil. When it obviously doesn’t work, they fasten a mass of garbage to the spinning wheel to make a fragile anvil. But no matter what the fleshie’s add to it, a spinning wheel is made to spin thread, not to forge weapons.”

{Using a spinning wheel as an anvil. I…}

My thoughts are cut short when I glimpse something in my peripheral.

The algae cocoons begin to wiggle, and the ground surrounding them starts to die. I take this as a sign that they are evolving and take all six of my easels in hand. With hasty steps, I rush toward various locations around the area, and I hide each of the easels with their evolving passengers. The glasswings I wedge in trees, the doodlebugs in a rut at the base of a trunk, and the larva in some shrubbery. 

I start placing things back into my bag and say, {I thank thee for thy story, Earl, but I believe we should take our leave!}

Earl shrugs with a smile. “Statement: The Mistress should leave, but this one is going to search for the beast spirit while observing the fleshlings mutate. This one cannot be seen or hurt by such meager fleshlings.”

With a nod, I rush into the bushes that separate the green area of Fairy’s Pantry from the marble floor of Tenebrous. These are full of poisonous briers as such, but as a haze woman, it affects me none. {Aye, Earl, then I shall see thee soon! Inform me of what hellspawn comes!}

I rush away. 

Whether Terra wishes for me to stay or not, I am going to check on Lorcan’s condition.