3.45. Homecoming (Updated) (Patreon)

Change Note: I added a short scene after the lodge meeting to give Mumu and Eight an opportunity to meet with Inleio. 

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Stepping out of the lodge that day was like waking up from a dream. The air was clear and cold, the breeze rustling my hair the same way a friend might. Great billowing clouds raced across the sky, urged along by the much faster winds up there. The rain they carried was benevolent and would nourish the land. I knew that like I knew my hands were attached to my arms.

The world felt alive in a way that not even my spirit eyes captured, which was honestly hard to fathom. There’d been many times when one with the land that I was the reeds stirring, the grasses dancing, and the treetops blowing, and now that connection was even deeper?

Want to see what it’s like? I asked.

Yuki’s answer was an unequivocal, “Yes!”

The two of us merged consciousnesses, and we sank into the land, opening our eyes and ourselves to the experience. Our team hovered around us, protective but also amused to see us so enamored with simply looking at the sky.

Nearby, the festival’s visiting merchants were packing up what was left of their goods, and their tents came down in preparation for going home. Handfuls of visitors lingered to watch, gathered around the warmth of fires spread around the plaza. The breeze brought us the scents of the smoke and the dung of their oxen.

Ghosts wandered among them, ignored, but the land felt their passing like an itching of the skin. People in armor gazed longingly at the warm fires, giant beasts wandered aimlessly, and so did some of the plants. We saw a hellmouth among them and wondered how it’d gotten into the city.

So, Albei was still Albei; we learned nothing new about the city. Above it, however, was the immensity of the sky. We’d never quite understood just how vast and powerful was the system of forces inhabiting it. Our mind possessed facts—knowledge we’d learned from books, lectures, and interviews—but in that moment we felt it.

We were smaller than fleas in comparison, tiny creatures huddled against the land. Was this the gift then? This deeper understanding of the sky and our connection to it?

The air around the plaza rose as we stood wondering. The wind swirled, forming into small harmless twisters before releasing that most dangerous shape. Open as we were, we recognized the abnormality of the wind gathering in this place, responding to a call greater than even the land’s.

Our companions grew alarmed, so Mumu asked, “Is this your doing, Eight?”

But we were transfixed and unable to answer. We felt the wind in our body—the looping and turning on itself, as well as the eddies and pools. There were patterns to how it flowed. We recognized some from the spells we knew, like bits of Cold Snap, Spark, and Air Shield, and there were many that were unknown. More: the way the wind moved was also reminiscent of how qi flowed through sections of our meridians.

Our belly warmed, the sensation a signal of the Taoism skill. There was something we needed to do, but the answer escaped us. All our combined intelligence was good for in that moment was to memorize the patterns and movements in the hopes of figuring them out later.

High above, a strand of the clouds heading east peeled away from the rest to find a still spot over the city, graying over time and growing heavy—ponderous until the water slipped free, the burden easing.

A fine rain fell, frigid cold against the exposed skin of our face. Tegen tightened our cloak around us; he raised the hood to keep us dry. Our team didn’t attempt to take us inside, however. Instead, they and our bodyguards stood with us, watching over us, until the last drops fell and the wind that’d summoned them dissipated.

As we came out of the trance and split our consciousnesses, I fell to my knees and bowed, my whole heart in my hands. This, this was the World’s Spirit gift, and I was ever so grateful for it. A spell to call rain. A spell that, with more investigation, might one day call storms.

“Is all well?” Mumu asked.

“Very much so,” I said, my voice cracking. Explaining the rest, however, would wait until I got these beautiful people somewhere warm. They’d stood out in the rain for me, and they deserved at least that much.

###

“The World Spirit gives gifts only rarely.” Tegen sipped from a cup of warmed plum wine. “Our Eight is blessed.”

Haol chuckled. “Say something new, why don’t you.”

The rest laughed with him. The worry they’d felt had melted, aided by my explanation, a roaring fire, and hot food and drink. Ostensibly, we should’ve been celebrating my becoming dawn, but we all agreed to wait until we were back home. The whole of Voorhei would want to participate, not to mention my family.

I couldn’t wait to see their expressions when they learned the news. The surprise and delight were going to be fantastic.

“It’ll be good to go home,” I said.

The others nodded, each thinking their own thoughts. My bodyguards also seemed pensive.

“What’ll you do once we’re gone?” I asked.

Grasset responded first. “Our duty is clear; the Long Dark is a little more than three weeks away.”

Agath turned the cup in her hand, gazing at the pale liquid inside. “Moon and I will stay in Albei through the winter, but when spring comes, we’re thinking of going back to Dolbec’s Rock. Life in Albei is complicated, and it’ll be good to be among our own people for a time.”

“I’ll miss you, all of you. I couldn’t have asked for more stalwart defenders.”

Agath put the cup down to look at my team. “And you and Kila have been the clients we sorely needed—honest and fair.”

Mumu shook her head. “It’s us who are grateful. Our lodge faced great danger, and you stood beside us. We won’t forget that.”

Agath and Moon both blushed, and I couldn’t stand it; I got up to give both hugs, which caused them to blush even harder. The others laughed good naturedly, but so what—like Mumu had said, we were the ones who were grateful.

The two dolbecs had defended me, and while they hadn’t said anything about it, I was pretty sure they’d done it despite pressure from the Healer’s Lodge and/or their supporters. That just seemed like something the healers would do, typical of their playbook.

Once I was back in my seat, Mumu said, “Tomorrow, we’ll visit our lodge and Kila in the morning, and then depart the city. Your duty is at an end.”

The bodyguards bowed to her, and she and the rest of us bowed back. Agath had been right in describing Albei as a complicated place, but we’d made it.

###

The next morning, we were up an hour before dawn. Our gear was already packed up from the previous night; we only had a couple of social obligations left before we could leave for home.

We’d spent much longer at the inn than any of us had anticipated, and the innkeepers arranged a special sendoff, preparing Ikfael’s favorite foods, including the barley flour donuts I’d shown them. We thoroughly enjoyed the meal and made promises to stay again the next time we were in Albei.

The sun was just starting its climb when we trooped over to the Hunter’s Lodge to say our goodbyes. Then it was onto Uncle Kila’s family residence. They’d heard from Grasset about my becoming dawn, so another celebratory meal awaited us. The family spared no expense either, and I got to try my first chocolate in this world. The people here drank it good and thick too, spiced with chillies, allspice, and maple.

The cacao beans had apparently been transported via coastal trader from much farther south, making their way inland via the Sootyel, the river adjacent to Albei. The long journey made the beans expensive, so everyone drinking treated the chocolate with reverence.

Teila’s eyes practically rolled back into her head. I imagined Ikfael would react similarly—she was in her figurine by this point—so I set a mug aside for her. Once I was out of debt, I’d also arrange for some for Bihei and my kids.

Speaking of debts, Uncle Kila snuck Mumu and me away to give us a peek at the plans for next year’s tournament. To sum up, they expected to employ several covert teams to source the materials and labor necessary for the infrastructure. They’d also commission a grander pavilion for Ikfael, one with privacy in mind from the start. The issue of security was still being explored within the family, but he mentioned a couple of promising ideas.

Kila’s family had loaned us a fortune; they also expected to make it back and much, much more. They recognized the tournament’s income potential and were willing to put in the effort to realize those profits.

Then, it was back to the food, and a couple of hours later, we rolled out, stuffed to the limits of human endurance. The team didn’t quite waddle toward the city gate, but goddamn, it was slow going.

The west gate was a lot like the north one, cranes included. It was late enough in the morning that it was busy, with farmers and merchants queued to pass through in both directions.

Interestingly, we were still subject to a customs inspection on the way out, as well as having to pass through the mankiller detector. This time, though, when the smoke turned red for Mumu, Haol, and me, the response was a brief interview on the other side. That was when Aslishtei and Sondo showed up to bid us farewell.

I’d spotted Little Red off and on over the course of the morning, so it wasn’t unexpected to run into the two of them. What did surprise me was that neither appeared to be sore about losing in the tournament. They even went so far as to say their bouts had been instructive.

The dissonance from the first time I’d met them was striking, but I now had something they wanted. That tainted what might otherwise have been a pleasant encounter. Eventually, though, we finally left Albei behind.

The sky was mostly blue with patches of clouds lingering, the winds having lost their urgency from the day before. It was cold, though, and my sense was that the temperatures would continue to drop over the next few days.

Traveling along the road in good weather, we should arrive in Voorhei in a couple of hours. We’d planned for four, however, just in case anything came out of the woods. In either case, we’d arrive before nightfall, and I really couldn’t wait.

###

We ran into a flock of iron red geese occupying the road, but we chose to wait them out. The delay wasn’t a big deal if it meant not having to fight them. The rest of the trip was uneventful thankfully, and we arrived at Voorhei’s boundary a little before three.

The late afternoon light slanted down on the village, and people were still out working in the fields. My heart should’ve warmed at what was supposed to be a picturesque sight, but I felt only uneasiness. The farmers weren’t tending to crops; they were creating berms and studding them with spikes. The base of village walls bristled with them, and small pits had been exposed. Each was lined with stone and only about a foot across and a foot deep—not bad for catching a running animal’s leg and breaking it. They’d apparently been there all this time, just covered over.

Voorhei’s spirit was grim, heavy with the sorrow we’d left it with, now also compounded by the Long Dark’s approach. Whistles sounded as we were sighted, and moments later a team of hunters ran to meet us with Kesa in the lead.

The reunion was glad but muted. Handclasps turned into hugs, hugs into bows as Kesa acknowledged our efforts: “You’ve brought Borba to his rest and given Inleio and his family their justice. More, you’ve saved our lodge from those that would enslave us. Let none doubt you, our Master.”

Mumu’s smile was fleeting. “We have news, but first how go things here?”

“Preparations for the Long Dark are underway. There was some disagreement about the disposition of Inleio’s family fields, but Koda brought the claimants together in the end. The animal territories are a mess, but you know that already. All else is as you’d expect, although more fearful—the people remember last year too well.”

“Call for a meeting tonight of all the hunters; we’ll share our news then.”

“There’s more beyond what Sheedi brought us?”

“A bit,” Mumu said, her smile firming.

Kesa eyed the lodge master for a couple of long beats. Some of the rigidity in her face and shoulders seemed to fall away. “You’ve grown, our Mumu.”

“I... We all had to.”

“To replace the hole Inleio left behind,” Kesa said.

But Mumu shook her head. “To make our own way, find our own paths.”

###

Word had pressed, and we were greeted by a throng of villagers at the gate, relieved to see us return safely. They clustered around the adult members of the team, which gave Teila and I the opportunity to slip away. She came with me as I searched among the people gathering.

Then I heard them, “Father!”

Billisha dashed from out between two long houses, Aluali on her heels and Bihei not far behind him. I grabbed Billi first and swung her around—had she always been this light? And then Aluali clamped onto me, and I twirled them both. Whatever reluctance Bihei might’ve once had to join in had vanished long ago, and she picked me up for a hug, shedding the other children so that they could greet Teila.

We were a mess of laughter and tears, which was interrupted when the village’s leadership team showed up to officially welcome us back. Sheedi’s face practically glowed in delight, while Koda and Dwilla were relieved. Seriously so, like their lives had depended on us coming back, which might’ve been the case.

During the last Long Dark, Sheedi had been the only one in the village capable of using area affecting magic. Now that Mumu was lodge master, Haol redeemed his slacker image, and Tegen gained access to mana magic—we’d be bringing three more advanced magic users to the fight.

The land knight agreed to send two teams to support us, but we didn’t know their composition, and besides strangers to the village would never be as dependable as those born there. Not even me from the looks of things. The crowd continued to press Mumu, Haol, and Tegen for reassurances that everything would now be all right.

Tegen’s status in the village was already high, but I noticed several appreciative looks thrown his way. Odds were he’d find a few more people looking to marry into his family soon.

And then Dena came hurrying, the crowd parting for her, so that she could wrap Haol in her arms, kissing him deeply. Then, she reached over to pull Mumu in, and it was her turn to be kissed, just as passionately. The three of them were almost too intimate to watch, and I heard amused laughter from the surrounding villagers. Nothing more than that, though. They knew not to rile Dena. Haol’s wife, Mumu’s fiancé—she could be a force of nature all on her own.

Anyway, Koda turned on the Charm to get everyone’s attention, and he said a few words to welcome us back. I didn’t hear a word, focused as I was on checking my family for signs of anything untoward happening while I was away.

Until finally, it was time to go home, rest for a while, catch up in person, and, oh by the way, tell them that I was now dawn. As we left the lingering crowd, I contained my smile as best I could.

###

Ikfael flopped on the longhouse floor, glad to be out of the figurine once again. She’d head back to the Glen on her own later that evening, but for the time being she’d rest with my family. I caught her smirking as she watched my family listening raptly to me telling them about becoming dawn.

All three jaws dropped. Their eyes grew big with astonishment. Then nothing. They just stared, and I relished—relished!—in how the news had broken them. Bihei gulped. Billi and Ali glanced at each other, then turned back toward me.

“But—”

“What?”

“How?”

“That’s—”

Yes, yes, I gloried in their reactions. My grin hurt from spreading so wide.

Bihei scooted over to hold my hand. “Is it true? You’re not playing a game with us.”

I nodded. “Mumu can confirm it. Mostly, the gains came from the golden slumber we’d handed to the alchemists to process, but there were also... ah... some things happened that I didn’t tell you about. Remember Banan and Kuros?”

The light in my children’s eyes changed. The shock and admiration turned into something harsher.

“Yes.”

Well, let’s just say the rest of my “break” didn’t go so easily. I was scolded until my ears turned red.

###

I pulled myself away from my family to attend the meeting at the Hunter’s Lodge. There, from beginning to end, Mumu recounted the story of the hunt for Borba and its aftermath. All the public parts, anyway.

The hunters listened with rapt attention. They’d heard some of the story already from those that had returned earlier, but it was different coming from the lodge master—more official somehow. Hers would be the narrative recorded and passed down through the years, so that future hunters might learn from our experiences.

Mumu also made clear our lodge’s gratitude to Ikfael. All the hunters were expected to make pilgrimages to her shrine in the spring to offer supplementary gifts.

We would also continue to organize the tournament for as long as Ikfael was willing. The debt would be paid off in a few years, and after that, the tournament would become a source of great abundance for the lodge. Maybe too much so. The sums we’d be dealing with were inconceivable to the average villager. That was a problem for the future, though.

Mumu ended with the news of me becoming dawn, and I empathized with the emotional whiplash of the people listening. It was nothing compared to the feelings of the people who’d experienced it!

The hunters had questions, a multitude of them, including around the criteria for who’d get Ikfael’s Boon in the future, but Mumu held firm in delaying any decisions about it until after the Long Dark. We had the time—the boon wouldn’t come back to our lodge until Ithia’s and Iseld’s people have had a turn—and she didn’t want the hunters doing something stupid to prove their courage. Eventually, she transitioned into planning for the Long Dark.

Mostly, I listened. They were the experts, after all, but I contributed when I thought something from my previous life might help. The village had a standard plan already, and all it really needed was tweaking based on the variables available—namely those with access to extraordinary talents or magics.

For example, Sheedi couldn’t conjure fire, but she could amplify and wield it like a weapon. So, ever since she’d arrived in Voorhei, the village had maintained bonfires at strategic points along the wall. They’d also spread oil along the berms that they could light from afar.

Mumu had already been practicing the Thousand Spears spell, and that’s what she would be primarily contributing to the fight. Haol had started learning Thousand Arrows in Albei, and Tegen started on Unbroken Shield and Hunter’s Call almost as soon as he got access to mana magic. That was ambitious on his part—learning two new advanced spells like that—but he was convinced he could do it.

Hunter’s Call increased the feeling of power within a person, thereby drawing hungry creatures to them, while Unbroken Shield was an area affect protection spell. Actually, it was even cooler than it sounded—the spell had two modes: one where you strongly shield yourself and the other where you cover yourself and your allies with a weaker level of protection. Between the two spells, he’d be able to defend Mumu and Haol so that they could focus on attacking.

Really, that guy, he was such an overachiever, and I loved him for it.

The three of them would form the core of an extended team of hunters who sallied out from behind the village’s walls to wreak havoc among the besieging forces. As for Teila and me, she’d stay behind to support the defenders, while I joined the sally group.

If Tegen was going to focus on protecting Mumu and Haol, someone needed to defend him. My spells didn’t have the same scope as the others—not yet anyway—but Lightning Hands should be able to handle anything that came close or at least create openings for Mumu and Haol to handle them.

All-in-all, the meeting lasted until about eleven in the evening, with people lingering afterward to congratulate me, ask about the tournament, and/or wrangle additional details about “what really happened” with Banan and Kuros. There was an unexpected grisly fascination with their deaths. A new respect too for Mumu and Haol for defending me.

###

Afterward, Mumu and I visited Inleio’s ghost. We found him watching the village from the door of his longhouse. The interior had been cleaned, the bloodstones scrubbed away and the furniture righted, but it still felt wrong somehow. The absences echoed too strongly.

There was a look of expectation on Inleio’s face. Mumu’s too for that matter.

The two of them watched as I drew a knife and poked a hole through Tenna’s Gift.

“Well?”

“Well?”

“It’s done,” I said to Inleio. “He’s here,” to Mumu.

“You gave Borba his rest?” Inleio pressed.

“Tell him about the tournament too,” Mumu said. “He’ll want to know.”

And she was right of course. For the umpteenth time that day, the story was retold, and while Inleio’s face remained stoic throughout, his spirit couldn’t hide the emotions surging as he listened.

He would’ve found a way to go after Banan’s and Kuros’s ghosts if the situation had been different, and haunted their families too to punish them for raising ungrateful louts like them.

Unlike the others, though, he was unsurprised to learn I’d become dawn. All I felt was a sense of satisfaction touched with a hint of pride. Which only grew when he turned his gaze toward Mumu.

She’d witnessed everything of course, at least my side of the interaction, urging me to include bits she thought he’d wanted to know. Her hunger for his approval was naked on her face, a vulnerability that was rare to see in our Mumu.

Once the story was done, she began to explain her reasoning for the decisions she’d made, gesturing for me to translate. She talked about her concerns, her fears and hopes, none of which is mine to share, but it can be safely said that Mumu got to sit with Inleio one last time.

At the very end, he whispered, “The village prospers.”

I thought Inleio might linger through the Long Dark to see how the village fared, but no, he simply faded away. He trusted we were in good hands.

Mumu and I wept, but we’d both known this moment was coming. They were healthy tears.

###

Over the next few days, the pace of village life never slowed, and people alternated between their militia duties and preparations for the winter. I was exempted from both and told to focus on mastering my new path. The odds were slim that I’d learn anything substantial without a lot more time and experimentation, but any gains were better than none.

Once the Long Dark began, we’d have to last the five days until the winter solstice, during which time the light within all creatures ran amok. They’d feel a hunger for power, mana would stop regenerating, and qi recovered at half its usual rate.

Seasonally, a severe cold snap was expected in the next couple of days, then about a week before the Long Dark, there’d be a drastic rise in temperatures until it was almost summer like, only to drop again to a normal winter climate once it'd passed.

Some of the more sensitive villagers already complained of the “itchies,” and as time passed more and more did too. People were grumpier than usual, and Koda seemed to be everywhere diffusing arguments and making sure people stayed on task.

Even my family bickered. They’d been through this before, though, and took it all in stride. If anything, I was complimented for how well I handled the disruptions in the flow of light, but the answer was simple: I didn’t feel the itchiness everyone else complained about.

As the days passed, the hunger in me for light did grow, and I found myself recalling the silverlight from powerful creatures—the bishkawi alpha, the kalihchi bear, the hellmouth, the golden slumber. And I craved more, even going so far as to fantasize about Ichkadeshtu’s core.

The weather turned hard, with temperatures dropping well below freezing. Snow blanketed the fields, the stakes looking unnatural on the unblemished snow until they too were covered over. The militia added clearing the village paths to their duties.

Yuki and I made progress in understanding the Rain Call spell’s components. Mostly, it depended on body power, with healthy doses of air and water mana, as well as qi to act as the binding agent. Interestingly, the filaments running through my spine acted similarly to the body power emulator Yuki had developed for the Blink spell.

We wasted a day painfully trying to run Blink through my spine. It didn’t go well, but at least Teila got to practice her Healing Water spell.

Then, like clockwork, ten days before the solstice, five days before the Long Dark began, temperatures rose dramatically, melting the snow at an astonishing rate and leaving behind a muddy mess. The villagers worked like the possessed to fix up their defenses—sublimating all their fear, anxiety, anger, and hunger into their work.

That night, the first of the “false summer,” I lay in bed worrying. The rest of my family lay exhausted and huddled together in one bed, each pretending to sleep. Yuki was in the background looking for ways to integrate with the new structure in my spine, but the filaments resisted his tampering. Their efforts simply slid off.

Yuki didn’t relent, though. It was how they dealt with their own fear for the safety of Bihei and the kids. Creatures could and did get past the defenses. It happened all the time.

A soft chime roused me from my thoughts. A notification popped up:

Error Resolved

Investigation has revealed that the unusual circumstances were, in fact, not an error. Access to the relevant soul marks has resumed. Thank you for your patience.

Um, what?

My confusion got Yuki’s attention, and the two of us puzzled over the message together. There’d been no notifications previously about an error, and I didn’t feel anything different now that the situation had apparently been resolved. All that was left was to check the soul marks themselves to see if the tooltips had updated.

Memories of Another World, Mana Door, and Way of the Hunter were all unchanged. The issue seemed to have been with Dawn, which now had a proper tooltip:

Dawn

The Path to Perfection begins. This soul mark establishes the starting point. From here, walker, the path is yours to determine.

Well, “proper” might not have been the best way to describe the tooltip. “Obtuse” or “unhelpful” would’ve been more apt. Oh well, all it meant was that nothing had changed. My worries were still my worries.

For form’s sake, I checked the two perpetually loading soul marks. God Touched continued to be indecipherable, but shockingly...

Spontaneous Formation

Under the watchful gazes of the gods, a fragment of another world has been brought into this one. Shaped and protected, a soul bypassed the restrictions on incarnation, creating the conditions for the embodiment of a being entirely free of darklight. The full impact of this act remains to be seen.

Oh.