Towering trouble a litrp.., p.81
Towering Trouble: A LitRPG Isekai, page 81
Saskia sat bolt upright, almost knocking her head on a low-hanging arch.
I am an idiot, she thought.
Ever since they’d landed on this island, she’d been feeling a continual pull on her vast ocean of essence. It was happening even now, at a time when her vassals should be sleeping. Garrain and Nuille may be awake, or maintaining spells even in their sleep. But this pull was stronger than she usually felt from them. And she now realised what it could be.
The zombies and skeletons Ruhildi raised didn’t need to eat or drink or breathe. But they had to be fuelled by something, right? That something was essence. What if it was the same with Ruhildi, in her present state? What if she needed essence simply to sustain herself? What if by limiting Ruhildi’s essence supply, Saskia had been starving her?
Of course, she could be completely wrong about this. But it was worth a try, right? Again she cursed herself for not thinking of it sooner.
Saskia slowly filled the blue vial in her mind. Up until the two thirds mark, she felt a corresponding increase in the amount of essence being drawn from her. After that, it began to level off.
Ruhildi’s back arched. A hissing sigh escaped her lips. Her eyes darting wildly from side before meeting Saskia’s.
“Sashki,” she said in a wheezing, rattling voice. She coughed, and hoicked up a mouthful of coagulated blood and mucus. “Be wary, Sashki. I’m not alone. I don’t ken how much longer I can—”
Ruhildi gasped and flailed, thrashing and clawing at the walls. And when she spoke again, it was with a different voice—or several voices, speaking as one. “Oh the sweet taste of air! Sister of the sea, we are—no! What are you doing!?”
Her friend flopped on the bed for several seconds, then sat up, reaching for her arm. There was a look of panic in her eyes; an expression Saskia had rarely seen on her. “They’re climbing all over me, Sashki! I…don’t think I can stop them.”
Saskia closed her eyes, struggling to calm her roiling emotions and consider the situation rationally. Now was not the time to freak out. Moments earlier, Ruhildi had spoken with the voices of the so-called spirits of the sea. Clearly, this was some kind of possession. When Ruhildi came back, they had come back with her. And now they were contesting ownership of her body.
Hilmyr’s awakening ritual had been a sham, but not in the way Saskia had assumed. Oh, he’d probably believed his own words, or at least chosen them carefully. Her oracle truth sense had detected no outright lies. But the spirits with which he communed hadn’t sought to help Ruhildi out of the goodness of their dead hearts. They’d been looking to hitch a ride back into the living world. That had been ritual’s true purpose.
Well frock that.
“Okay, what do I need to do?” said Saskia.
But now the eyes looking back at her were no longer Ruhildi’s. The dwarf sprang for the door, lightning fast.
Saskia was faster. She snatched up the struggling dwarf in one hand.
“Oh no you don’t,” she said. Calling out to her friends, she said, “Uh, a little help here?”
Rover Dog burst through the door, followed a few seconds later by Kveld and Zarie. After she hurriedly explained the situation to them, Rover Dog held Ruhildi, while Saskia sat and tried to think of a way to do an exorcism.
“We cannot go back, demon!” pleaded the voices of the spirits. “Please, let us stay. We will help—”
“I don’t think so,” said Saskia. “That’s my friend’s body you’ve invaded. And she wants you gone.”
Tuning out their pleas and threats, she activated Ruhildi’s mirror on her interface. The view, when she activated it, was not what she expected. She was hanging from a rope, high above a raging sea. Not a sea of water, but one made of corpses. The dead clung to her legs, and to the rope below, and some had managed to climb over her, reaching for the amber light parting the clouds above.
Instinctively, she knew that the light came from herself. And the rope represented her bond with Ruhildi; that of a vassal or…something more? From dream conversations with her father, she’d gotten the impression that a vassal’s bond would end with the vassal’s death, but clearly that hadn’t happened here.
The corpses were obviously the spirits of the dead. Parasites, the lot of them. They had to go.
“Can you hear me, Ruhildi?” she asked.
“Sashki, I do hear you. How are you…?” The voice didn’t come from her physical ears, only through the mirror view.
“Never mind that,” said Saskia. “You’re a necrourgist. These are corpses. Can’t you, I dunno, make them go away?”
“I already tried,” said Ruhildi. “My magic doesn’t work in this place.”
What was this place, exactly? A truly horrific afterlife, or just another metaphorical dreamspace? If she had to guess, she’d say it was the latter.
“Try now,” said Saskia. “I’ve re-enabled your magic.”
Actually, she’d just upped her friend’s essence supply. But she didn’t have time to explain that. And if her hunch was correct, it didn’t matter. The power of belief was paramount in dreams. If her friend believed her magic would work here, it would work.
Ruhildi was silent for a long moment. Saskia could feel her tugging additional essence. Maybe this wasn’t so metaphorical, after all? She kicked at the corpses grasping her legs. One of them fell free, and as it fell, it popped. Limbs and body parts sprayed outward, tumbling into the sea below.
“Thank you, Sashki,” said Ruhildi. “Now ’tis time to put the dead in their place.”
She looked up at the corpses that had climbed over her, shoving her out of her own body; the ones that even now were speaking out of her mouth, pleading with her not to—
Pieces of them rained from the sky.
Watching the carnage unfold, Saskia felt a curious mix of relief and horror. She really hoped this place was just a metaphor, and her friend wasn’t actually obliterating their souls. No-one deserved that. Well, almost no-one.
Emboldened, Ruhildi turned her gaze downward, and began to disintegrate the corpses clawing their way up the rope behind her. She worked her way down its length, until the tower of the dead collapsed, and the rope came free, swaying violently from side to side as it shot up into the sky. The veil of dark clouds parted, and then…
She was looking up at Rover Dog’s frowning face.
“Put me down, you big brute,” said Ruhildi, glaring up at the troll.
“It’s h-her,” confirmed Saskia, her voice catching in her throat. “It really is her.”
No sooner had Rover Dog released the dwarf than Saskia proceeded to smother the dwarf in a tight embrace.
Ruihildi’s flesh was still cold and dead, and her heart still wasn’t beating, but she seemed slightly less…skeletal than before. She’d probably never look as she had before, but maybe in time, and with the right clothing or makeup, she’d be able to pass for a living dwarf.
“This is all my fault,” choked Saskia. “I’m so s-sorry. I wish I could—well, at least you’re still…you.”
“You can put me down too, Sashki. Not that I’m not fair glad to see you.”
“So how do you feel?” asked Saskia, wiping her eyes as she set her friend down.
Ruhildi frowned. “Fair odd. Can’t feel my heart. And my corpse sense is telling me there’s a corpse right here.” She thumped her chest.
“And you’re…okay with that?”
Another long pause. “I suppose so. I can’t change it. My magic can keep the rot at bay. I still have my wits. I don’t see many downsides to being mostly dead.”
“Mostly dead, huh? I guess that’s better than my word for it. So, you don’t…feel a hunger for brains or a thirst for blood? Or an aversion to garlic or sunlight?”
Ruhildi cocked her head sideways. “Like as not, your blood won’t heal me any more.”
“Not what I meant. I’m gonna assume no on all counts, unless you tell me otherwise.”
Not a vampire or zombie, then. So what kind of undead creature was she, exactly? A lich? That would fit the necromancer theme, but liches also stored their souls externally in phylacteries, so even if their bodies were destroyed, they could come back. Where was Ruhildi’s soul, if not inside her own body?
Without warning, her friend sprang into the air, higher than anyone her size had any right to jump. Saskia fell back with a startled cry. The dwarf hung upside-down from the rafters, grinning down at them.
“Methinks I like being mostly dead,” said Ruhildi. Landing lightly on the floor, she did a cartwheel. “Aye, I’m liking this a lot.”
Saskia chuckled nervously. “Let’s not be too hasty. We don’t know how much your body can handle.”
“What’s the worst that can happen? I die of it?”
“No, the worst that can happen is that you explode into chunks of meat and bone that I have to clean up.”
Ruhildi looked thoughtful. “’Twould be best if I don’t cast a bursting corpse spell on myself.”
“No. Please don’t.” Saskia felt an insane giggle bubble up from within. Before she knew what was happening, she was on the floor, laughing so much it hurt, and wiping thick tears from her eyes.
Ruhildi patted her on the back. “Thank you for bringing me back, Sashki. ’Tis not your fault, what happened. Even if you hadn’t taken in all that arlium, I’d have gotten sicker and sicker, until it killed me. Like as not, I’d have succumbed afore lowfall. ’Tis better that it happened the way it did; when it did. Now I can help you every step of the way, instead of being a burden.”
“You would never be a burden to me. I…” Saskia blinked at her friend. She hadn’t told Ruhildi about what had happened at Fireflower Isle. So how did she know…?
Looking overjoyed and confused in equal measure, Kveld threw his arms around Ruhildi, enfolding her in a fierce hug. Zarie smiled broadly and joined the embrace. The tempest didn’t know Ruhildi that well, but travelling together, even for a short time, had forged a bond between them.
Rover Dog nodded at them. “Alive or dead, I am happy have friend squishy back.”
“’Tis good to be back, Doggi,” said Ruhildi.
Hilmyr, it turned out, was somewhat less than thrilled to see Ruhildi back in full possession of her body. The spirits of the sea had apparently been voicing their displeasure to him. “You will leave,” he ordered, his wrinkled face twitching with rage.
“We’d be happy to,” said Saskia, trying not to let her own anger show on her face. “But we will need a lift off the island.”
“I don’t care how you leave,” said the sage. “Only that you do. And never return!”
“We will take you back to Fireflower Isle,” said one of the Waverider women who had transported them here. “Please, don’t take Hilmyr’s words to heart, travellers. He has grown bitter with age. But he will join the spirits soon, and then we will have a new First Sage.”
“I don’t expect his successor to look on us fondly,” said Saskia. “The spirits of this place…they are not friendly toward the living. Be wary of those who listen to them.”
The journey back across the sea was smooth and relatively pleasant. Still, it was a great relief when they finally stepped onto dry land again, and made their way up the slope to the edge of the crater where the dragon rested. No sooner had they drawn near than it stirred to life—or unlife, as it were.
“Okay, guys,” said Saskia, turning to face her friends. “We need to decide our next move. But before we do, I need to talk about what I saw in a series of visions I had while I was absorbing half this damn island. I should have mentioned it sooner, but I was preoccupied with…well, you know. It’s important, though, so here goes…”
She told them about the dragon, the woman and the troll who had set out to seal the arlium volcano that had once poured into the sky from this very island.
“I’m pretty sure the woman was one of those arlium manipulators or metamagicians we’re searching for,” continued Saskia. “She managed to turn the molten arlium of the volcano into the solid structure that gave Fireflower Isle its name. Sadly, I don’t think she survived the event. But I know the trow survived—and, in fact, is still alive today.”
“How do you ken that?” asked Kveld.
“Because,” she said, turning to Rover Dog, “the trow in my visions was you.”
Book 3, Chapter 12: Choven
A siren sounded in the distance. Saskia tensed, as she always did when she heard such sounds. A quick glance at her minimap confirmed that the police car wasn’t headed their way.
It had taken a while to tweak her map to pick out the police and other groups—some official, others covert, and others of a less than savoury nature—who were out looking for her. Most weren’t marked with the fiery hues of someone who meant her physical harm. After all, officially at least, she had committed no crime, aside perhaps from being an accessory to Padhra’s assault on the convention centre security guards. The police only wanted her to come in for ‘questioning.’
Saskia gave a bitter chuckle at the thought. Oh, there’ll be questioning, alright. They’ll question me from a secret underground bunker, right before the dissection.
Or maybe not. Things in the real world rarely played out like they did in movies. The police might just interview her for a couple of hours, then set her loose. She wasn’t about to take that chance, though.
The authorities had been cagey on the matter, but it was blatantly obvious to anyone with half a brain that, crime or no crime, they really wanted to find her. Helicopters had been buzzing overhead with alarming regularity. Roadblocks had been set up along all the major highways, with no explanation given as to their purpose. Unmarked aircraft had been sighted landing in various airports around the country, and speculation had been running wild as to just who they might have been carrying.
Through her own investigations beyond the means of the average Internet sleuth, Saskia had learned the identities of some of those people. Suffice it to say that there were some very powerful international players who had joined the game of tracking down one Saskia Wendle.
It wasn’t just the authorities she had to worry about, either, but the unseen enemy who had manipulated her into exposing herself; and every other nutjob out there who had seen the videos on the Internet, and wanted to kill the alien, or worship her, or marry her, or tie her up in his basement and have his way with her. Or all of the above—preferably in that order.
Flipping her consciousness into the head of the cop, she found him listening to his police radio, responding to a ‘1640,’ whatever that was.
Curious, Saskia decided to take her new ability for a spin—one she’d discovered just recently during one of her remote eavesdropping sessions. She shifted her consciousness from the cop’s head into that of the person speaking out of the radio—and found herself in an office halfway across town. From the details shown on the caller’s screen, that code appeared to represent a minor assault. Nothing concerning her personally, then.
Meanwhile, the cop sitting the next desk over was talking loudly to his wife or girlfriend on his phone. Apparently things weren’t going too well between them. On a whim, Saskia hopped into that cop’s head, then that of his partner speaking on the other end of the phone…
…while she sat in another man’s lap, fondling his…
Abort! Saskia hastily ejected herself out of the woman’s head. Maybe I should be a private detective, she thought. I keep digging up these dirty little secrets.
The van door slid aside. Saskia felt a moment of panic, wondering if someone had managed to sneak up on her in the minute or two she’d been away from her own body. She forced herself to relax. Padhra would have clobbered anyone suspicious over the head, and her minimap was showing…a blue marker.
It was just Ivan, bearing gifts of groceries.
“Took your sweet time,” said Saskia, picking out an apple from the bag.
“There was a queue,” he said. “People are buying out the supermarkets; you know, stockpiling for the upcoming nuclear winter.”
“Or alien invasion?” Saskia arched her eyebrows at him.
He chuckled. “That might have something to do with it, Tentacle Girl.”
She elbowed him in the ribs. “Oh don’t you start, too.”
Fergus’s nickname for her had been immortalised in one of the many videos that got uploaded to the Internet that day. Of course it had caught on. And yup, he was gonna rue the day—if she ever got to see him again.
She really hoped she would.
Ivan’s face turned serious. “Between these groceries and the fuel, I’ve burned through most of our spare cash. It should be enough to get us where we’re going, but if not, I’ll have to risk another visit to an ATM.”
Saskia sighed. “Let’s hope it won’t come to that.”
Along with their phones, she had to assume their bank accounts and credit cards were being monitored. This was almost certainly the case for herself and Padhra. Ivan might be in the clear, but they couldn’t say for sure. If they wanted to remain hidden, they had to stay off the grid, but that was easier said than done.
Saskia munched her apple half-heartedly as Ivan pulled out of the carpark, heading for the back road that would take them on the next leg of their journey. There wasn’t much of a view through the tinted windows in the back of the van, so she watched through her friend’s eyes between bites.
When she was done, Padhra handed her a banana, but she waved it off.
“You should eat more,” said her Lingya bodyguard. “Your mortal vessel needs sustenance.”
“My mortal vessel will make herself sick if she eats too much,” said Saskia.
A reduced appetite was one of many things she’d had to readjust to over the past few months. Regenerating damaged tissue still took a lot of calories, but for normal everyday living, she needed no more food than she had before her trolling days. A fact she’d forgotten once or twice, and gorged almost to the point of vomiting.
“I’m sorry, Old One,” said Padhra, for the millionth time. “This is no way for a goddess to live. I have failed you. I thought we might get you out of this land sooner, but it has proven…challenging.”
