Chapter: 244 - Attrition (Patreon)

<Contains content which may be considered grimdark>
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Tala leaned back in her bath, luxuriating in the near-boiling heat.

She’d enjoyed one feast, and a team of chefs was methodically working towards the creation of a second, using her sanctum’s ingredients.

Gotta refill those reserves.

She’d stripped off her iron paint and had been reinscribed before the bath as well. Losing her arms had lost the majority of her rings, and she couldn’t let that stand, after all.

Be as prepared to fight as possible.

She stayed in the bath, despite being clean already, and her body didn’t really need to be relaxed by outside heat, but it just felt so good.

Glorious. This is simply glorious.

-Ahh, yes. What wonders can be achieved via tyrannical rule.-

When one is on the side of the tyrant, things do seem a lot rosier, don’t they? Tala sighed. Now, don’t ruin my bath. I fought reality itself, today, then sparred with a crazy elf that somehow made the previous fight seem easy.

-I don’t think that a drake made up of fragments of reality is actually reality.-

If I break off a bit of rock and throw it at a pig, has the pig been hit by a rock, or not?

-Fair enough.- After a moment, Alat sent the impression of a wide grin. -Tormenting pigs, eh? Is Terry rubbing off on you?-

Tala ignored the alternate interface, letting her mind wander once more.

She maintained her mirrored perspective, along with those for Alat, and at this point, it was a subconscious action that took almost no effort.

With her mirrored sight, and the little bit of mage-sight that had become naturally a part of that vision, Tala occasionally saw subtle warping in the tub around herself.

There was apparently a large vat of hot water, somewhere, and Kit was exchanging the cooler water in her tub with the hot water in that other source.

I do want my bath to stay hot. The things that Kit was accomplishing were truly spectacular. “Kit? Do you want to chat sometime? I feel like you display some intelligence.”

The room around her did not respond.

“Well, let me know if you change your mind.”

Terry lifted his head from where he lay on the bed and trilled questioningly.

“Just trying to talk to our benevolent world-maker.”

He trilled again in a series of descending notes before curling back up and closing his eyes once more.

“Love you too, buddy.”

That got his attention. He looked her way once again and tilted his head.

“It’s an expression. I like having you around. I definitely didn’t like our time apart.”

He slowly bobbed his head before letting loose a soft, mournful cry. Without further sounds, he settled back down.

Tala had kept her eyes closed, relying on the bloodstars orbiting above the tub to see her friend.

As such, she saw the door to her bedroom open slightly before closing.

That wasn’t hard, they were well-hung and opened with the lightest touch, if they weren’t locked.

She hadn’t bothered to lock them.

In any case, she easily saw the intruder.

It was a black cat with purple eyes.

Tala sat up, turning to face the cat.

The feline hesitated, mid-step, when Tala moved.

“Hey there, kitty.”

The cat purred slightly.

“Are you hungry?”

A riaow came in response.

Tala smiled and willed for a bit of bacon to appear before the cat. She thought that she might have heard a startled exclamation from the kitchens next door, but Tala was probably imagining it.

The cat scarfed down the bacon, then came a bit closer, seeming quite hesitant.

Everything that Tala could see indicated that it was just a normal cat.

With very pretty eyes.

-They are quite unusual, aren’t they?-

Her bath forgotten for the most part, Tala carefully got out and dried off, allowing her clothing to re-grow over herself as she bent down, holding out her hand.

Another piece of bacon came into her hand, as she held it out.

The cat came forward and ate it from her fingers without issue.

Tala tentatively reached out and began to pet the kitty.

“Soft kitty, warm kitty.” She smiled. “Little ball of fur.”

The cat began to purr.

“You’re not some eldritch abomination are you? A void creature in disguise?” She kept the same tone to her words as with the first cooing.

If this is a manifestation of Kit, I wish my book to appear beside me. She wished that very hard. Her book didn’t appear. “So, you aren’t Kit, are you.” Or Kit can selectively ignore my wishes, which would be… terrifying.

-Or it can’t process ‘if’ logic?-

Well, that would be less terrifying, then. ‘If’ logic is really simple, after all. Anything that can’t understand it isn’t very intelligent.

-Yeah, and we’d rather fight a tide of beasts than a few hyper intelligent creatures.-

But when have we ever had the choice?

Terry flickered into being beside Tala and the cat stiffened.

The terror bird tilted his head to the side, examining the other predator.

The cat arched its back, hunching its head low.

When neither animal made another move, Tala sighed. “Terry, be nice to the kitty. It was clever enough to make its way in here. Let’s let it stay.”

Terry flickered to the cat’s other side, but from the feline’s perspective, the bird simply vanished.

The cat seemed to hesitate, straightening a bit and looking around Tala.

Terry patted the cat on the head with one taloned foot.

The cat sprang away with a startled cry and hiss.

“That wasn’t very nice, Terry.”

The terror bird was looking after the cat as it sprinted from the room, pushing out through her double-hung doors. He looked contemplative.

“What? Were you testing it?”

He looked her way and squawked noncommittally.

“Sometimes you're impossible, Terry.”

He chuffed in obvious amusement before flickering back to her bed and curling up to resume his nap.

Tala stood, feeling quite a bit sad that the cat had left so soon. “I’m going to get more food. Enjoy the nap!”

Terry lifted one talon and waggled it back and forth absently as Tala let her door close behind herself.

It was a quick stroll from her bedroom to her dining room, where the House of Blood chefs were ready for her.

Another glorious meal really showed the depth of diversity her sanctum had to offer.

Each dish was a harmony of flavors and magics, each perfectly attuned to her, helping deepen her connection to her own power with every bite.

Oh, my… rust… I might need to take these cooks with me.

-What if they don’t want to go?-

Tala hesitated. Does it make me a bad person if I considered kidnapping, however briefly?

-Hey! You can joke about it now. That means you're getting over the trauma. Right?-

Yes… joking.

The food was so delicious.

The cooks finally left after her third distinct feast, promising to return to prepare breakfast for sunup.

It was an odd thing, actually. The entire House of Blood within Croi operated on world-fragment-time. Most holds that Tala had encountered simply mirrored the time of the outside world, but obviously the House of Blood’s hold, this world fragment, didn’t.

Thus, it would be a solid few hours before she could have breakfast.

With the chefs gone and Thron retired to his room for the night, Tala was alone as she looked out on the nightscape of her sanctum.

False stars showed overhead, though there was no moon.

Her enhanced sight could see well enough by starlight, and she was once again struck by the beauty of her home.

As it turned out, Kit matched the time of the House of Blood’s hold, rather than that of Croi, outside.

So, it monitors where it is directly. Good to know, I suppose.

She somehow knew that she could force a change, make it any time of day that she wished, but she didn’t want to.

It was better to honor the natural cycles, to live life in tune with the wider world.

Or at least the local fragment of it.

She read late into the night, slept as much as she needed, and still had time to stretch, exercise, bathe, and reapply her iron-paint before breakfast.

I do love my enhanced self.

-We’re pretty great, yeah.-

Humble as the day is long.

Her breakfast was as glorious as her dinners had been. She poured out praise on the chefs even as she ate every bit of food they could throw together for her.

Her reserves had taken quite a few large hits the day before, and it was going to take a mountain of food to replenish them.

Thankfully, for their newest Eskau, the House of Blood was ready and willing to provide.

Meallain had apparently taken a great interest in Tala, for one reason or another.

Tala was pretty sure it was a combination of her history with Be-thric, the fact that Tala was the first human Eskau of any house, and that she was someone new, who was ostensibly on an equal footing with the elf.

Regardless of the actual reason, Meallain had decided that she wanted to help Tala train.

The next days were…instructive.

The elf, being the uncontested leader of the House of Blood's Eskau in this city, had wielded that authority to get Tala plenty of sparring partners of various levels.

Apparently, Pillar Corinis had a relatively new Eskau who was powerful but still inexperienced.

There had been a…disagreement between the elf and the previous Eskau roughly a hundred years ago, but that is all the information that Tala was able to glean from mild inquiry.

Apparently, it was still a sore subject for most everyone involved, and she was advised not to ask further.

Needless to say, the newer Eskau did not join in the sparring.

Every single Eskau was better than Tala in martial combat.

She could still beat most of them, due to her endurance, strength, weight, and ability to heal, but it was a war of attrition.

Meallain likened it to a tree winning because it blunted the ax.

Tala did not like being the tree.

Aside from Meallain, Tala sparred against two other Eskau more than any others.

Reidh was an Eskau in a city on the southern shores of the continent. He was a dragonling with burnt-orange scales and pleasant, almost human-seeming brown eyes. Fighting him was a strange sort of nightmare.

Reidh wore no armor, but every one of his scales was inscribed in interlinking spell-forms that Tala learned made them sturdier than anything she’d ever tried to break. She had to learn that the long way around because with the combination of the new medium—dragonling scales—and a new material—some sort of metallic blue substance—she had no basis for her mage-sight to try to guess at what they did.

Add to that the facts that his concept seemed to be related to friction and he was devilishly clever at its utilization, and Tala ended up with rather…educational fights.

Every time their weapons met, Tala had to harden her will and control or she’d find Flow would suddenly twist in her grip or slip from her hand.

Strikes she deflected into the ground would suddenly make her footing unsure, robbing her blocks or strikes of much of their power.

He was obviously more skilled than she in martial combat, but he was a cautious fellow by nature, usually standing his ground and allowing her to attack.

Tala whipped past Reidh again and again, trying to rely on her footing when near the dragonling as little as possible.

Flow was in the form of a glaive, and she struck with the haft more than she ever had before as that didn’t depend on proper alignment, and she simply couldn’t trust that she’d be able to maintain that needed alignment.

Reidh’s grin grew with each exchange, his protian weapon taking the simple form of an enlarged draconic hand most of the time.

“Good, good! You are adapting to my idiosyncrasies.” He chuckled, both his words and his laugh sounding clean and clear, likely the result of having to perfect pronunciation with a less than ideal mouth for the language. “But don’t get too complacent.”

That was his only warning.

Tala slid past him, closer than usual, Flow thrusting forward in the form of a sword. Her aura was hardened against long-range intrusion, and she was focused on the strike. He’s mine, now.

The blood-hand of the protian weapon caught her blade and seemed to break apart like a popped water-skin. The blood flowed down Flow’s length, locking it in place and forming around her hand.

There was no chance for escape.

Reidh was already pulling back towards himself, moving her bodily. He easily turned Flow’s blade to the side just enough for it to skitter off his reinforced scaled side.

His other hand came to rest with his natural claws pierced through her elk-leathers and into her abdomen, drawing blood without fully breaching her abdominal cavity.

He was careful not to strike her too deeply, his precision utterly obvious, and the result was clear. He had a clean path up to her heart, and she couldn’t have stopped him.

The power looping through the inscriptions in his claws clearly enhanced their cutting ability along with their durability.

Tala sighed, shutting out the pain and uncomfortable sense of vulnerability garnered by the wounds. “Victory to you, again.”

Reidh shrugged lightly. “We do not spar to find the victor, young Tali.”

She grinned in return, forcing a jovial tone to her voice. “Oh? So, I can state that I have won, because I am learning more?”

The dragonling laughed with genuine mirth. “You may say whatever you wish, but I’d advise against claims that many would misunderstand.”

She found herself nodding. “As you say.”

“Again?”

Tala nodded. “Again.”

The third that she fought most often through those days of training was an incredibly diminutive figure, one of the few beast-folk that Tala had seen within Croi.

De-arg seemed to be related to some animal that she’d never seen before with large, round ears, a fluffy tail, and standing barely taller than her mid-thigh.

He kept his protian weapon in an odd form much of the time. It was a long staff, nearly twice his own height, capped by a ‘C’ shape that was affixed to the end of the stave about a third of the way around the curve.

De-arg used the weapon to trap, deflect, and redirect Tala’s limbs and weapons, while he mainly attacked using his small hands and feet.

Each blow seemed to radiate through her like every ounce of power behind the strike transmitted perfectly through everything it encountered.

The little creature was so light that he shouldn’t have been able to do anything to her, but he constantly stole her balance and redirected her own actions to devastating effect.

Even when she did hit him, it was akin to striking a bit of dandelion fluff and didn’t seem to harm him in the least.

The result was that she felt like she was fighting with herself more often than the fluffy fellow. It was excellent for the refinement of her techniques because every weakness in her stances and balance was highlighted and exploited more thoroughly than ever before.

So, she fought, watched, learned, and adapted. Her movements were refined, her reactions quickened, and finally, on the third day, they bore fruit.

Tala froze, her chest inches off the ground, balanced on one leg while the other was out behind her in counterbalance to her thrust.

Flow, in the form of a glaive, was embedded through the meat of Meallain’s upper arm.

Blood was already flowing from the wound and down the shaft. The elf’s weapon, in the form of a swordbreaker was pressed against that same shaft, having deflected the blow as it came in.

The elf gave a pained laugh, even as Tala pulled free her weapon and stood.

“Fantastic! Well done, Tali.”

“I was aiming for your heart.”

“As you should have, but you had more stabilization behind such an unconventional thrust than I imagined. I failed to fully deflect the attack.”

Tala felt herself smile at the compliment and the accomplishment. I finally hit her!

-Hey! Good job. She’d still have killed you, but nice job drawing some blood.-

Oh, I’m aware.

The woman had never even used her magical abilities against Tala. Though, Tala had seen them used in demonstrations against other Eskau.

It was rude to delve into someone else’s concepts, and Thron had only told her, because he was to serve her, and she needed to know because of that.

Even so, the results spoke for themselves.

From what Tala saw and felt, it seemed that Meallain wielded a concept similar to feinting.

Meaning, she was capable of instantaneously convincing even experienced warriors that she was about to do something that she never actually did.

Tala would have thought it was some sort of mind-magic, but the power coming from the woman never seemed to directly act on her opponents.

When used sparingly, it caused those same opponents to make what seemed to be masterful reactions to attacks that never came.

And when Meallain used whatever the magic was freely, it meant that her opponent was fighting their own innate reactions and experience more than they were fighting her.

That was, in the end, why Meallain had refused to use the ability on Tala, after all. “I want you to develop deeper, quicker, and more intuitive fighting, not force doubt upon you for the same.”

In any case, Meallain was grinning practically ear to ear. “That was impressive. What’s more impressive was that it was deliberate. Looking back, I can see how you maneuvered me, and allowed me to deflect your previous strikes a bit more easily.”

Tala chuckled. “Yeah, I thought that using the blocks to help build my own momentum would aid the strike as well.”

“That it did. The final thrust was fast and more stable, while coming from an unexpected angle. Truly, well done. I only wish that your—” She stopped for a moment, her gaze moving to somewhere behind Tala. “Well, speaking of which, Be!”

Tala saw Be-thric coming out of the nearby building through her mirrored perspective. So, she turned to see him with her own eyes, studying the mixed emotions that were playing across his face.

Meallain frowned as the Pillar joined them. “Are you alright? Did the other Pillars need a break?”

He shook his head. “No, no. Nothing so mundane. The conference is over. We came to an agreement.”

“Oh?” Meallain looked back and forth between Tala and the Pillar. “So? You don’t look happy. Did they deny you?”

A thrill of fear ran through Tala. What? No…That’s the plan? Alat? Alat!

-Calm, Tala. Listen to the answer. We don’t know, yet.-

But, how can we—?

Blessedly, Be-thric was shaking his head. “We unanimously agreed that the attempt is in the best interest of the House. I would not let them deny me in that, and in the end, I swayed every Pillar to my way of thinking.”

Tala swallowed, feeling a wave of relief. “Well, that is good.”

She smiled towards the elf, hoping to get some positive response, but Meallain didn’t return it. She was still focused on Be-thric.

The older Eskau’s frown was deepening. “Then, what’s wrong? Why do you look like someone took away your dog?”

Be-thric grimaced. “You always were too good at reading me. There was a condition set upon the venture. I must complete it alone.”

As she processed his words, Tala felt like her entire body began to freefall, even as the weight of worlds crushed her chest, and a dull, ringing reverberation filled her head, fuzzing her thoughts.

She barely managed to whisper a single word. “What?”

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