88. Inquiring Minds
After that amicable exchange, Renate remained mum on both the ill-chosen nickname and the ‘one person’ who was allowed to use it. Yet, somehow, annoying the frog woman into speech proved to be the perfect icebreaker.
At the very least, it’d made her slightly more receptive to Serac’s other questions, so long as the latter took care to stay off the taboo topics. Renate was willing to play ball a little, and it fell on Serac to get the game going.
“So… Zacko says you were just minding your own business when you got sucked into this cave situation. Any theories on what’s actually going on?”
“No. Why theorize when we’re about to see for ourselves?”
“Right. Sure. I suppose that makes sense. You think, uh, what’s happening in here is related to all the outside funniness? Lars said all the rivers in Rotgard are drying up, and I wonder if this cave has something to do with it.”
“Given what we’ve seen so far, it’d be foolish to assume otherwise.”
“… Right. Sure. And… just to be clear, you’re not the one behind it all, are you? It’s just, everyone I’ve talked to so far seems to think the Wildspawns here are following the orders of a ‘queen’—that queen being you.”
At this, Renate turned her head slightly to give Serac the amphibian version of a withering look.
“If I actually had the power to control Wildspawns like the Stammers so claim, they’d have much more to fear from me than the occasional stolen item, I can promise you that.”
Serac had to take a moment to recover. Her ‘the Finless is a good, misunderstood soul’ theory had just taken a brutal hit, and she needed to steer the conversation in a slightly more positive direction.
“Hey, uh, nice one earlier with the, what’s it called, [Elemental Surge]? I was sweating bullets for a second there because I thought we didn’t have the right damage type to deal with the Poison Balls. How does your Auxiliary work exactly—if you don’t mind me asking?”
The Auxiliary in question still lay flat on the ground where its wielder had left it. Renate herself didn’t answer immediately, instead turning her eyes back onto the center of the cave, where myriad whistling streams clashed and fought each other for wind supremacy.
“What do you know about the ripples?” the woman eventually asked without shifting her gaze.
“Er, not much,” Serac admitted. “Petey tried to explain it to us, but if I’m being honest, he didn’t do a great job of it. The rest I’ve picked up just from watching the Sturgeon Boys… and I guess a little bit from you. If I were to take a stab at it, I’d say it’s like sensing some sort of hidden signal that living things give off?”
“Sensing is one part of it,” Renate agreed, matter-of-fact and surprisingly helpful. “All living things—people, animals, plants, Aberrants, and yes, even the Realmtree itself—are made up of infinitesimal building blocks that constantly vibrate. Each of these blocks is too small to be felt on its own, but in aggregate, they give off larger waves—ripples, as they’re called—that travel through environmental mediums—air and water, chiefly, but solid objects are no exception.”
Hearing this, Serac subconsciously looked down at her own body and turned over her cinnabar hands once or twice, wondering if she might be able to see these tiny, vibrating blocks. Needless to say, the answer was no.
“From an early age, Yakshas learn to read the distinct shapes, speeds, and directions of these ripples, as well as their attenuation profiles through various mediums. Ripple-reading becomes more or less second nature to all of us, and for most Yakshas, that’s where it stops. They don’t then go on and try to interact with these ripples as much as interpret them.”
“Interact? You mean like change the ripples’ shapes, speeds, directions, and whatnot?”
“Precisely.” Renate nodded as she graced Serac with more eye contact. “Living things leave their marks on inorganic materials in the form of ripples. What I do with DREDGER then is to retrieve, reactivate, and reshape those ripples for my own use—whether that use be stoning a group of Slangespytts or… lending a hand to a couple of outrealmers who were way out of their depths.”
“Super neat!” Serac proclaimed, beaming from ear to ear. “Oh, and thanks for that ‘hand’, by the way. Guess Zacko and I really owe you a lot more than one for everything you’ve done for us. I’m still curious, though. Those Poison Balls are immune to Physical and Zealous damage, right? So that means the damage output of your [Elemental Surge] is… what?”
At this, a curious look crossed Renate’s face—neither aloof nor particularly welcoming. Rather, it was one of serious contemplation, as if she herself was deeply interested in the answer.
“It’s something I’ve puzzled over for years myself,” she said, matter-of-fact and clearly eager to delve into the topic. “As you might imagine, there’s no set ‘base Attack Value’ for something like [Elemental Surge], which makes numerical observations difficult. But based on data I collected from various leveling strategies, my best guess is Primal damage. I suppose it makes sense in a way… assuming of course that the word ‘Primal’ does refer to the base nature of things.”
Serac gasped, as her face lit up even more brightly.
“You’re one of the rare ones! Like Bea said! But… including me and Zacko, that’s like three out of five Wayfarers I’ve met. I’m not sure if I’d call that exactly rare!”
The outburst was met by a blank stare, though one in which the frog woman appeared to make a genuine effort to understand.
“I don’t think I’ve met this ‘Bea’ you speak of, but… if you refer to the commonly held belief that a Wayfarer and her main Instrument is limited to one aura type, I don’t think I’m necessarily an exception to that rule. Remember, DREDGER is my Auxiliary, so whatever magic imbues [Elemental Surge] likely derives from a different set of logic. Perhaps the ‘history’ that’s inherent to DREDGER itself, or—if you’d allow me some fanciful hypothesizing—to the accident of its wielder’s bir—”
Serac had been nodding along, rapt with attention. As such, Renate’s sudden break-off gave her something of a conversational whiplash.
“Bir… what?” she demanded. “What were you gonna say?”
“Nothing. Forget I said anything.”
“What? You can’t leave me hanging like that!”
“I said forget it,” Renate snapped, narrowing her round eyes. Now, the tonal whiplash was enough to shut Serac up. “Don’t push your luck, Rakshasa. I’ve no cause to volunteer any of this information. You’ve… simply caught me in a generous mood, that’s all.”
What started as a baleful warning ended in a somewhat sheepish mumble. Serac found this rather endearing, so much so that she was willing to overlook her scholarly blue balls.
“Have it your way, Ren—ate,” Serac said good-naturedly, managing to catch herself just in time. As proud as she was of her own art, she wasn’t so stuck up as to ignore a direct plea for clemency. “It’s really nice chatting to you, either way. I don’t think I’ve met anyone who’s so—what’s the word—intellectual? Which is funny, considering Zacko’s supposed to be the one from Manesfera; I mean, he’s even got ‘Erudite’ in the name of his magic! Compared to him, you sound a lot more educated. Are you, though? Educated, I mean?”
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“Does that mouth of yours know when to stop?” Renate asked by way of answer, though with a slight smirk to show it was all in good fun. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone who’s so—what’s the word—gushy.”
“What can I say? I’m like the Sanzu River when the very heavens crack open over a hellish wasteland.”
For a moment, Renate looked at Serac like her very head had cracked open to gush out a River of Blood. Then, much to both women’s surprise, she burst out in croaking laughter. Serac soon joined in, though hers was noticeably more subdued, due to her still mulling the merits of her earlier analogy.
I think it makes sense. At least it does to me. I was pent up in the lowest pits of hell for so long with no one to talk to, so I think I can be forgiven for being a little gushy around good company.
Little did she know then… that her counterpart was thinking almost the exact same thing.
“Speaking of the Sanzu River…” Renate managed in between her giggles, before eventually reining in the laughter altogether. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something. About the circumstances of your arrival in Pretjord. The Manusya has already filled me in a bit, but there’s no reason not to consult a second data point.”
“Oh yeah? Shoot, what do you wanna know?”
“What was the very first thing you remember?”
“Water,” Serac replied immediately. The memory of it was still painfully fresh, and she wasn’t likely to soon forget. “Water above, below, and sideways. Water inside me. Water as far as I could see or feel. Heavy, cold, everywhere. Zacko assumed that we’d end up in the very bottom of the Realm, but we never expected the place to be filled with water.”
“The Netherpool,” Renate said with a nod. “Though in recent years, the pool level has gone down so much that it’s become all but inaccessible to us Pretjordians. I think… if it weren’t for that outside intervention that pulled you and the Manusya away, the two of you would’ve been stranded in the Netherpool with no way to climb ashore. But go on, tell me more about this ‘pulling force’ you experienced.”
Serac obliged the Pretjordian, but not before shuddering at the thought of being stranded in all that oppressive water.
“It just sort of happened, you know. No warning, no presence that either of us felt. One second we’re kicking and flailing in the middle of this body of still water. The next, it’s like we got caught in this powerful current, one that sucked us out of the Netherpool and spat us into the Sanzu, all the way up in Stamgard, apparently.”
“Powerful current… The sensation of being sucked through… Would you say it felt at all similar to what happened when you dropped into this cave?”
Serac let out a small gasp of recognition. It seemed so obvious now.
“Now you mention it, yeah. You think whatever’s down there and whatever pulled us up—”
“Is the same entity, yes, I do think that. But… there’s another piece to the puzzle, and that’s you.”
“… You as in us, or you as in me?”
“Well, I suppose I can’t discount the Manusya’s role out of hand, but…” Renate’s amphibian eyes now gave off a Pathsighted gleam as she looked Serac up and down… then her gaze lingered upon the six-shooter at the Rakshasa’s waist. “The rivers in Rotgard have been drying for years, but today, as far as I can tell, is the first time they’ve pulled unsuspecting Wayfarers into the hollow insides of the Realmtree. Today also happens to be the first time in at least several centuries that a Narakite has ascended to Pretjord. And I’m of the belief that coincidence is something that only exists after you’ve exhausted every other explanation.”
“Serac? Bubblegum? It’s your turn.”
It took Serac a moment longer to tear her gaze away from the tree-frog woman and her gleaming, round eyes. She saw then that both Zacko and Lars had stood aside, giving the two girls full access to the lotus flower.
“We can continue this another time,” Renate said, picking up DREDGER and laying it across her lap as she sat down to meditate, “perhaps after we’ve dealt with whatever’s waiting for us below. It may be only academic at that point, but… you know what they say about inquiring minds.”
No, in fact, Serac didn’t know—but she could guess readily enough. In any case, the woman had already settled into her session, leaving Serac scrambling to follow suit.
It’d been quite some time since she’d had enough Liminal Karma to level, and she took to the task with gusto. According to Pathsight, she could up her attributes by three points. By now, she felt comfortable enough with her ‘survivability’ to start thinking wants over needs.
Let’s see… Bea did mention that I should now be able to see how my attributes affect the different damage types. And sure enough, a new section had been added to the leveling overlay:
[Designation: REVOLVER]
[Instrument Class: DEIFIC]
[Anchored Realm: PRETJORD (+1)]
[PHYSICAL Base AV: 124 -> ]
[INFERNAL Base AV: 136 -> ]
[ZEALOUS Base AV: 142 -> ]
[PRIMAL Base AV: 137 -> ]
[ERUDITE Base AV: 130 -> ]
[MARTIAL Base AV: 130 -> ]
[DEIFIC Base AV: 145 -> ]
Neat! Now I wanna see what happens when I play around with the I-series of attributes.
“—ac.”
Huh. So, right now, my highest ‘I’ is [Immanence] at 20. If I put three points into that, I bump up my Infernal AV to 141, Zealous to 150, and Deific to 150. Three-for-one deal! I mean, I don’t know when I’ll ever be able to use Deific damage, but this still looks like the best bang for buck.
“—rac!”
Next, let’s check—wait, is someone calling for me?
“Serac! Sorry to do this to ya, but we gotta roll out, like right now.”
“Wayfarer, I believe that pestering voice belongs to the Manusya.”
But I haven’t even had the time to weigh up my options! Oh, screw this. Play it safe and put three points into [Attunement]. At least more MP is always useful, no matter what.
[Karmic Level: 30 -> 33]
[Attunement: 15 -> 18]
[MP: 89 -> 104]
[Burden: 32 -> 35]
[ZEALOUS Mitigation: 12.5% -> 13.6%]
[ERUDITE Mitigation: 15.9% -> 17.6%]
Serac locked in the changes then stood, in a considerably worse mood than before she’d taken her seat.
“What?”
She snapped at Zacko in irritation, but then she herself immediately saw the ‘what’, made evident by a very prominent absence.
“Where’s Lars?” she asked in alarm, scanning the platform for any signs of the towering sturgeon. He shouldn’t have been difficult to miss. Beside her, Renate had already gotten to her feet, with DREDGER reslung across her back.
“Dude’s run off on his own,” Zacko explained, eyebrows flat. “Says he felt a change to the ripples. Something about his brother. Whatever it is, it apparently couldn’t wait for you girls to finish.”
“We’d better follow the sturgeon quickly,” Renate remarked as she too leaned over the edge of the platform, with her pink skin shimmering in response to the pasts and futures that rippled all around. “That is, if you don’t want him facing this monster on his own.”
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