Magic has crippled us in more ways than I can describe—in more ways than we can know. Most people, including practitioners themselves, regard Biomancers and those who walk the Path of the Healers as if they are god-like miracle workers with powers over life and death, who can deny the cruel hand of sickness and fate. This is pure delusion. Biomancers are the most delusional people to ever exist, and I stake this claim on the supposed fact that I am the single greatest Scholar of Medicine and Apothecary to emerge from the vaunted Halls of the Resplendent Cadaver in High Harbor.
What folly. What delusion. Everything I know is utterly eclipsed by my ignorance, by my ravenous fear. Know that the moment you embark on the path of studying diseases, pathologies, injuries, and plagues, you will find yourself stripped of any harmony or hope for immortality. This is a study in your inevitable death and everyone's inevitable pain. For the System's hand is as cruel as it is capable of being vulgar and subtle in equal measure. And it is the subtle aspects which too many people ignore: drunk on hubris and supernatural powers, too many so-called apothecaries imagine we will be able to overcome anything with just a bit more effort, with just a few more treatments.
Let me tell you now, in no uncertain terms, hear this from the mouth of someone regarded to be a peerless Master of Medicine: The things that can kill us number beyond our knowing. The common diseases of years past, they are nothing but a distraction. You think just because we are able to reverse aspects of aging, can combat cancer, and wipe away more commonly faced ailments, that we can guarantee immortality?
Not even nearly. What we face now is something beyond the sicknesses of eons past.
Comedy. Pure, depraved comedy.
Let me begin your journey into despair by explaining to you how little we understand biology. Biology is complicated. Unspeakably complicated, with so many interconnected systems and parts. It's hard to get a whole grasp. Near impossible, a Master of the arts. You will have to be far greater to fully understand the wholeness of a biological entity, even something as simple as an insect's body.
I have seen the ruins of the Pre-System Age. I have gazed upon the dead husks of long-dormant machines. The Ancients knew far, far more about both technology and biology than us wretched successors do. Even now, I stand in mourning of all that was lost to us during the apocalyptic days of the System's descent upon our blue marble.
Our great advantage compared to the Ancients is that we can change the rules. Magic allows us to defy. Biomancy allows us to command the body to do unnatural, impossible things. Meanwhile, those of the Pre-System Age had to work within the boundaries of the natural laws.
But this convenience is not a gift. No, it is deprivation. You cannot see yourself deprived of struggle and study and expect to have a holistic understanding. With this lack of understanding, we face new threats. I said before, biology is already unthinkably complicated.
Now, imagine you stand faced with something greater, a natural disease further enhanced, touched by magic, capable of changing and shifting with every passing second, that assails your immune system before becoming a venom in your blood, and then cancerous spreads inside your stomach. And when you cure that, it collapses into something that hides as an allergy, trying to disguise itself, to distract you, and to deprive you of focus.
Curing one complicated disease already takes an immense effort, even on the part of a Master. A hundred Masters working in concert perhaps can ward off a plague, but a plague slightly boosted by a hostile Plague Master is something that can sweep through entire towns. And that is why I, though many of my colleagues think me cruel for it, retain that Pyromancy remains the most efficient way of keeping sicknesses contained. It is easy to quell and prevent rather than to stabilize and cure.
So, young and unprepared Healer, heed my word before you stake the Path and set forth on this journey. You will watch uncountable children die before they ever leave the warmth of their mother's womb, taken by plagues that mock your understanding. They will die because some Adept Biomancer who has a sloppy understanding of the art itself, but more than a little cruelty, more than a little intent to tweak the structure of specific diseases, will ruin your heart, will insult and defile your sense of mastery. It is easy to collapse something. It is hard to make it stand tall, to force it to endure in the face of entropy.
The natural state of life is to veer toward death. Everything we do is in hopeless defiance of the natural path. Yet we defy. Still we must defy. For the end is the enemy. For we are, and so we despise the very thought of the day we aren’t…
-The Hermetic’s Guide to Natural and Spellborn Diseases by Huang Zun Ye of High Harbor (First recorded Master-Tier Biomancer of Integrated Earth)
281 (I)
Loss
All at once, the mutation stopped. Uva was split perfectly down the middle. Her left belonged to the Fingerling, her right to the Hatchling. But her face, that was her own again. The fractal palps faded, seeming like broken glass that dissolved into nothing. Her eight eyes returned to two, and they glowed briefly, revealing the Dreamtaker's colors before that, too, settled, and her original, midnight blue irises returned.
The murky aura radiating out from her body slowly faded as well. Shiv guessed that meant the Eldritch Gods were no longer present, or at least receded into the backdrop of existence.
Parts of Uva remained irrevocably altered, however. The first were the wings. They were now standardized into branching, spider-like appendages, their shape somewhere between a bird’s and an insect's, and made from frozen gold. The silken threads that created the curtains of Psychomancy between the golden structures still held instances of Uva's many-layered consciousness. But her other selves were now unburdened by the Outsider's malignant influence. The bugs associated with the Hatchling were missing. So too were the eyes and fingers connected to the Stranger's offspring. It was only Uva now—instances of Uva looming behind those Psychomantic sheets. Her threads of mind-mana glowed brighter than ever before, but also retained a tinge of tarnished gold.
Shiv guessed she might have retained two different variants of Eldritch Chronomancy.
The most exaggerated of the Fingerling’s mutations sweeping through the left side of her body receded; the mess of fingers sprouting free from her arm and hand sank back into place, falling as waves would upon an ocean, vanishing in splashes of pitch-black material. However, a series of eyes were still open along the length of her left arm. Eyes that gleamed of faint gold, but no longer looked as if they were eyes spawned from the Stranger. No, their shape reminded Shiv of Uva's eyes, for they seemed to be bound to her now. And they flowed slowly, gliding toward the center of her palm, where a small vortex remained.
The mutations affecting the right side of her body experienced some slight adjustments as well. No longer did she seem so shattered. The fractals didn't spiral out from her. Instead, they joined the ends of her wings, extending forth like bladed tips, spreading her wingspan even wider. Her arm was no longer a thing of broken and orbiting pieces. It solidified into a complete whole, but the outer layer of Chrono-stilling frost remained. However, beneath the ice, the color of her skin revealed itself, and the outer texture was rendered more transparent, becoming sort of a protective layer, or an exoskeleton.
With all that complete, Uva blinked once, took in all the people looking at her, and swallowed. "This is..." She tried moving forward, but her legs gave out, and she fell toward the ground headfirst.
Jessica was about to catch her, but she saw Shiv already in motion and stopped herself. Adam would have responded, if not for a raised hand from Valor making him hesitate.
Shiv blurred across the few meters of distance between them and went on a knee to catch Uva carefully.
As he cradled his long-separated lover in his arms, he felt her heartbeat pounding even through the layer of stilling frost, felt the Eldritch magic grind against his Shapeless Tides, against his Temporal shell, even though it wasn't fully manifested. And he felt his pulse accelerate as he took her in with worried eyes.
Cupping the back of her head, Shiv gently laid her down on the ground.
He was about to ask her if she was alright when there came the sudden sound of an arrow flying free, ripping the fabric of space, and splitting through bone and flesh. He spun instantly, his instincts honed from constant battle. His fists were clenched, his Last Morsel was in his right hand faster than a Master could blink. His mana hydra reared back, and tendrils of Vitae expanded out from him, ready to strike in tandem thanks to his Bifurcated Processing.
Yet all that was unnecessary, for an orc Biomancer lay dead ten meters behind Shiv. His left eye was a clean hole, going all the way through the back of his skull. He collapsed dead to the ground, and behind the orc floated a static arrow.
Adam let out a scoff. "Does anyone else plan on casting any subtle spells?"
Some of the orcs laughed and jeered at their fallen brother. Others let out sighs. And Shiv heard the unmistakable sound of mithril being exchanged, the clinking of the crystalline material within sacks or wallets.
"The fuck?" Shiv snarled, his fists tightening even further. "Really? You're gonna pull this shit on me now?"
"Well, it's not like there's ever gonna be a better time than this," Bonk declared as he flopped limbless toward Shiv. He was like a large worm, though his core strength was still immense. He bounced up and down on the ground, flapping and twisting, writhing like some kind of beheaded insect that just wouldn't die. As he finally came to a stop two meters next to Uva, he turned, staring at the Umbral, and grinned.
Shiv recognized the look of the Itch on the orc's face, and he glowered at his favorite orc. "Bonk," Shiv said, his voice low with a warning. If it had been any other orc, perhaps aside from Helix, whom Shiv also had begrudgingly been developing a soft spot towards, he would have just killed him.
Bonk shook his head and let out a sigh. His face scrunched up in agitation. "You're making my heart break! YOU'RE TEARING ME APART, INSUL! I mean, just think about it! You're all mushy and stuff! You're holding her like she's precious to you. Of course we're gonna try attacking you now. Of course. It's like teasing an animal you pump full of aphrodisiacs, but then force to wear a chastity belt for a month. Then you rip it right off, and you tell them to let loose. We're that animal right now. And you’re the abuser!”
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Slowly, a grin crept across Bonk's face, one that bordered on the verge of lecherous. "And it seems like you might be an animal too, judging from how you're looking at her. Insul, is that what's happening right now? I have to say, sex looks boring and awkward for us, but some of the orcs find it funny. We wouldn't be against youuuuuu—"
Bonk's voice trailed off as he was punted back across the bridge by Jessica.
"Whoops," the Legendary swordswoman said, sounding not apologetic at all. "My foot slammed into some talking shit. Shame. Looks like we won't be dealing with perverted orcs." She scanned the surrounding greyskins and held Rusty high. "If anyone else wants to do anything funny, I'll just kill all of you." She paused and briefly looked at Roland. "Maybe I won't just kill the orcs either."
Though weakened, the Town Lord of Blackedge and the Starhawk's most favored son stood tall. He summoned a bow of pure starfire into his hand and simply let out a sigh. "I told you before, Jessica. I—"
"Shut the fuck up," Jessica said, seething every word out between clenched teeth. "Shut up. Shut the fuck up. Shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear anything from you. The only reason why I haven't driven Rusty into you and started pulling you apart from the inside, Roland, is because of Rose, because of the kid, and because…"
She didn't finish her words. She realized she was staring at Valor now, who was hovering just behind Roland, like a protective specter or some manner of guardian angel. The Starhawk, for some reason, kept himself unseen. Perhaps he suspected his presence would be more oil than water to the simmering flame that was Jessica. On Valor's face wasn't a look of intense violence or hatred, or anything that could be constituted as a threat. It was simply an honest plea. It seemed like Valor was wordlessly imploring Jessica to be reasonable, to be honorable, to be noble.
And it worked, somehow.
"Alright, enough of this shit," Rose said, stomping to take up the space between Jessica and Roland. "We're not doing this. You," she said, pointing at Jessica. "You don't look at him. You stand on the other side of the room, and you focus on anyone else."
Rose suddenly spun, and Can Hu responded, twisting its upper body first. Rose let out a brief yelp of pain before the Penitent's lower half followed.
"Apologies," Can Hu declared. "I'm still getting used to some mobility enhancements. It has been a long time since I had a pilot in my fully functional state."
"That's fine, that's fine. I needed a stretch anyway."
Rose coughed, trying to hide her pain, and Roland leaned in close, asking his beloved if she was alright. A series of muted reassurances followed, but Shiv's full attention returned to Uva as she also coughed softly, slowly stirring back to full consciousness.
"Hey. Hey. It's all right," Shiv said softly. "I'm right here. I got you, sweetheart. I'm right here. I'm right here."
His mind finally caught up to the situation, and he chided himself mentally. There was too much happening around him, and he got distracted again. He carefully sank his Vitae into her body and began sweeping through her many Skills. They had been altered dramatically, and as he sank down into their channels, reaching deep, he found them changed but also empty in a way. There wasn't a hostile presence here anymore, not like there was before. It wasn't like some other being was waiting on the other side, trying to corrupt her. Instead, it looked like the adversary had been fused into the Skill itself, that it was stained with Outsider power but fully converted and melded into an alloy. Two Eldritch beings fused together and finally cemented under Uva's will.
It was hard to explain. Ultimately, these were still her Skills—she had simply bound a mingled assortment of Eldritch mana together. The Eldest? The Stranger? Shiv couldn't feel them, and they didn't respond in any way. But that didn't mean they were gone. That didn't mean they were fully banished. Shiv had faced too much weird shit to think that this was over. In fact, he had a suspicion that this was going to come and bite them in some way down the line. When and by what means, he didn't know, but life was never so merciful, and the System never missed an opportunity to force more conflict in his life.
And all our lives, Shiv corrected himself as he retracted his Vitae strands.
He brushed some of Uva's hair, which had grown longer again in her time here, out of her face as she took a moment to center herself. Her eyes were still darting about, and he guessed that the room and everything around it were spinning for her. When she finally centered herself and blinked a few times, she let out a brief breath and met his gaze.
The corners of her lips threatened to curl up in a wry smile, but she made herself remain composed for a few seconds longer. "So, how was prison?"
That got a chuckle out of Shiv. "Kind of shit. How was hell?"
"Miserable enough that I think I would have liked trading places with you if I had the choice," Uva said dryly. And then a weak smile broke through on her face. "Even if I did get some benefits out of it in the end." She stared at her hands, changed, altered, but ultimately her own. She opened and closed her fingers, trying to reassure herself. Shiv never let her go.
"So, are the Stranger and Eldest gone? The hells did you do back there? It was looking like they were fighting over your body."
The Umbral let out a spiteful scoff. "I changed sides several times, supporting one, and just as they were about to win, I turned and helped the other. I did this several times until their greed and their narrow-sightedness overcame them. They would rather have an independent Seeker than none at all. They are desperate to expand themselves. So desperate that they refused to retract their influence. And they despise each other so much that the idea of losing something to one another drove them to greater heights of desperation and frenzy.”
Uva chuckled. “The Stranger thought he was going to be outbid by the Dreamtaker, and so he surrendered to me, if only to deprive her of her due influence. The Eldest had the same motivation, but was terrified that they would be undone by their child, that I would give myself to the Stranger, if only to hurt them in return. Both succumbed. Both were made to fuse with one another, and then I took hold of them."
She made her hands into fists, and a few aberrant fractals began spinning around her wrists, rotating as if blades prepared to lash out and strike. "I think parts of them are still here. They cannot reach over and twist me, though. Not like before. But they are aware of me. I've stolen a small portion of their essence. I exist, and so they exist. It is their way of intruding into the System as it influences them in turn. And I suspect they will not forgive my transgressions. They will try to take back what I have scammed out of them. I've been Cursed."
"By the Eldest?" Shiv asked, his hatred of the Eldritch rising by the moment.
"By both of them," Uva said flatly. "By the Stranger and the Eldest. And the Dreamtaker remains blissfully unaware. It's like a veil was draped over her mind when the Eldest reached into me. Even now, I can still barely feel her stirring. She's someplace distant, dormant." Uva rolled her eyes. "How pitiful. The most benign of the Outsiders is also the most harmless and helpless when it comes to her progenitor."
A shadow fell over Shiv and Uva, but the Deathless didn't even need a turn to tell who it was. A faint azure glow bathed both of them, increasing their mana levels and boosting their souls. Adam knelt beside them, looking down at Uva with a wry grin of his own.
"Hello, Sister Uva. I see that you've taken steps to address your Weaveress envy."
"Hero Adam," Uva replied, her voice dry but not without mirth. She looked above his head. "I see that your egg has unfortunately shattered. I was looking forward to seeing what kind of chicken would hatch from it."
"My egg?" Adam looked up and frowned. "It's not an egg, Uva. It's a Shattered Star. And this is a Skill Evolution, something you might have undergone several times thanks to the Starhawk."
"Thanks to the Starhawk?" Uva caught herself before her voice could climb an octave. She realized Adam was trying to bait her into outrage. "Ah. How very noble of you, Young Lord Arrow, stealing my rightful labors and attributing them to someone else. You do your mother's bloodline proud."
Rose heard that and let out a choked chortle. "Oh, you pasty, spider-legged bitch! I should have never vented about my father to you."
An expression of exhaustion and peace came over Uva, but it was only then that she realized she wasn't only among pleasant company. There were orcs in the room as well. In fact, most people on the bridge were orcs, and the brutes looked at her as if she was a thing of curiosity, a dangerous creature they wanted to hunt, and a potential meal they could savor over a crackling fire.
Uva sighed. "As appealing as it is to slip off to sleep right now, I would like to stand up. I'm going to need your help, Shiv. I do not think I have enough strength in my limbs."
She didn't need to say anything else. He scooped an arm around her legs and picked her up. Her wings folded behind her back, the spider-like joints curling inward, and her Psychomantic threads fusing together, becoming a single flap extending forth from her back, a silken cape trapped in a Cryo-Chronomantic frame.
Her weight was lighter than a feather, but Shiv could feel her mana fields. They were substantially improved. More than that, they could do things that few other Skill Fusions possessed. Not many Pathbearers had a connection between Psychomancy and Chronomancy. Just the same with time magic with frost.
Once more, Shiv wondered if the System had a hand in planning all this. He leaned towards yes. Uva had endured and suffered and paid a price that few could. Many people on Blackedge did. But in the end, instead of being diminished by her sacrifice, things turned around. She saw herself rewarded. Valor saw himself returned.
But where there was a feeling of euphoric triumph and peace in the backdrop of Shiv's mind, his Sage of the Enkindled Heart worked at his rationality, and his Gardener of Doubt made his body tremble with vibrations, fearing the future.
Gardener of Doubt: This is a moment of triumph, undoubtedly. But the System does not build on one triumph and leave it at that. The System does not see things as ends. No, they are connectors. They are steps. They are paths of escalation. Valor is close to wholeness. We have many allies, powerful and mighty. We have our own army. Uva has been returned, Roland has been saved, the Starhawk and his Perch reclaimed and put under our protection. Think, Shiv, and prepare. The System has let this happen in measure because you and everyone with you fought to make it so. But know this: The System is undoubtedly planning something to follow this, and with everything and everyone we gained from this victory, there is only one path forward: war. It is inevitable.
But even if it was going to be war, it wasn't going to be war right now, right this instant. For that moment, there was peace, there was victory, there was life. They lived. The Perch had finally been saved. The remaining survivors of Blackedge were either resting within the castle or held in the bowels of the Court Leviathan.
As the Deathless swept his eyes across his orcs, across the other Pathbearers who'd fought alongside him. Jessica, who stood far away from Roland with her arms crossed. Candles, who was slowly growing dimmer but seemed like he was beyond pleased—his mouth agape, his eyes wide, the look of a man utterly spent, utterly satisfied. And then there was Gone, standing apart from everyone, but not nearly far enough that she was out of reach. She shot Shiv a look, and her head tilted ever so slightly. She seemed like she wanted to smile, but her face didn't know how. Shiv would remedy that in time.
And time was what they had taken for themselves. Time to prepare. Time to get even stronger for whatever would follow next.
And through it all, his pulse never slowed. This all felt too good, too perfect. He was waiting. Waiting for something to hit them. Waiting for an ugly surprise. A final attack.
None came.
When Valor stepped forward and greeted Uva, she responded, murmuring words, talking about how she didn't expect him to look so thin—asking if this piece of his returned soul would see him capable of savoring some of Shiv's food.
And that was when the hammer-blow struck Shiv. Georges. Georges and all the people who were afflicted with the plague. He hadn't thought of them.
"Shit!" Shiv breathed. The sudden feeling of victory fell out from under him. His stomach was a vacuum.
Uva and Adam both turned, noticing the sudden shift of emotions on Shiv’s face. But before Shiv could open his mouth to ask Roland where the man who might as well be his adoptive father was, a loud, reverberating clap interrupted him.
Shiv froze, and he turned toward the source of the noise, where Can Hu stood with its hands still held up and clasped together.
"Hey, uh, Penitent?" Rose coughed. "I didn't want you to do that."
"I did not either," Can Hu responded, sounding unnerved.
A second clap followed, then a third, and then Can Hu’s body began glowing with a halo of faint, pale blue.
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