Somnus IV - Chapter 36 (Patreon)

Kat opened her eyes to the adventurer’s hall.  The institution on the ninth floor wasn’t nearly as large as the others she had grown used to, really more of a small shopping center with three vendors, most of whose customers were lokkel.

“Katherine,” a familiar voice called out.  “It’s good to see you but you’re almost three hours early for the ceremony.”

She looked up, a smile blossoming on her face as Sikka, Dorrik’s rearer hurried over from where she had been shopping at stand that sold accessories.

“I’m actually hurt pretty badly right now,” Kat replied with a chuckle.  “I took a bullet to the arm and they had to put me under.  Evidently whatever they used was strong enough to knock me all the way into REM sleep.”

“Oh no,” Sikkah responded, one hand going to her chest as she leaned forward and put one of her other hands on Kat’s shoulder.  “Are you all right?  I’ve had to go into a medically induced coma during gene alteration before.  I was able to make a lot of progress in the dreamscape, but it was terrifying to be stuck in here without any control of my body in the real world.”

“I’ll be fine,” Kat said, waving a hand dismissively.  “The bullet didn’t hit anything important and I got a tourniquet over it before the bleeding got too bad.  It hurt like crazy, but other than that I should be fine in a week or so.”

“Well.”  One of Sikka’s other arms came around clapping down warmly on Kat’s other shoulder.  “Regardless of the reason, I’m glad you’re here.  The rest of the dignitaries should be filtering in over the next hour or so, and I wanted to have a nice gift ready for Dorrik if they-”

The hands on Kat’s shoulders tightened imperceptibly.  For the first time, she noticed that Sikka’s crest was standing almost completely on end.

“There’s no if,” Kat replied quietly.  “I’ve seen the effort Dorrik has put into their training and preparation.  I know just how hard it is to fight a floor guardian, but Dorrik isn’t the sort to let themselves lose.  I’m not sure I’d have this much faith in anyone else, but if it’s Dorrik they will absolutely find a way to bring it down.”

“I hope so,” Sikka said quietly.  “Dorrik worries me.  Of all the children I have given birth to or reared, they are the most talented, but they also push themselves the hardest.  Ever since their siblings were killed-”

She stopped for a minute, shaking her head silently before continuing.

“There is so much anger they carry with them.  At least once a week I find myself wishing that Dorrik was a lokkel of ordinary skill and destiny.  They shine so brightly, but they have suffered so much.”

“I’m not sure they’d have it any other way,” Kat responded gently, reaching up to put a hand over one of Sikka’s wrists.

“Dorrik is proud of who they have become Sikka.  They have put thousands of hours of work into their swordplay and memorizing every little detail of life in the Tower.  Maybe their existence would have been easier if they were normal, but you and I both know that Dorrik would never want that.  They want to shine.”

Sikka smiled wistfully for a second before releasing Kat’s shoulders and turning around.

“Come Kat,” she said, motioning for her to follow the lokkel.  “I still need to acquire some leather and specialty dyes.   I won’t have the time to make anything truly outlandish, but I would like Dorrik to at least have a token if this entire endeavor works out.”

“Oh!” Sikka clapped both sets of her hands together.  “We need to get something for the dignitaries to snack on.  The ninth floor has some delightful rock shrimp that taste positively divine if you boil them up in a well seasoned acid bath.”

Kat’s shuddered, her arms and legs aching in sympathy as she suddenly remembered the burning pain of the long run to the cavern.

Sikka bustled ahead, leading the way to one of the meager stalls where a robed figure was selling food.  As they approached, Kat jerked her head back, blinking rapidly as she tried to make sense of the entity before her.

“Excuse me,” she asked, trying her hardest to be polite, “but are you one being or three aliens in a trenchcoat?”

It turned to look at her, white whiskered fur around its black nose twitching.  A pair of small clawed hands reached up, pulling back the hood to reveal a fuzzy face with a large black stripe of fur over its eyes.  Below, around belly height, another similar face peaked out of a seam in the robe.

“Both,” it replied, eyeing her up and down.  “Rakks are a communal telepathic species.  Each of my component parts can operate independently, but we aren’t terribly bright.  Once we gather together, our minds blend to create a complete entity.”

“I have to ask,” Kat began slightly embarrassed, “you look like an animal from-”

“Yes,” it responded, cutting her off.  A pair of small furry hands came out from its chest picking up a metal box from the table and handing it to Sikka for the lokkel to inspect while the creature’s ‘head’ spoke to Kat.  “You are human.  When your world was discovered, we became aware of your ‘raccoons.’  There was talk of sending a peacekeeping force to prevent you from harming them should it turn out that they were our cousins somehow, but our kind does not transfer genetic information with anything approaching your DNA.”

“Your cousins?”  Kat questioned.  “How would that work anyway?”

The Rakk’s upper pair of hands reached up, smoothing the fur under its whiskers with a couple of quick brushing motions.

“It happens more often than you’d think,” it replied.  “Rakks are a distractible race.  Sometimes a trio becomes uncoupled and loses its communal thinking ability mid-flight.  Juvenile members tend to gravitate toward shiny objects including buttons that force emergency stops.  Once the ship lands under autopilot, the members run off onto the new world, seeding it with alien life.”

Kat just blinked at the creature, her response caught in her throat.  To her side, Sikka was looking through the contents of the box, occasionally whispering comments to the small furry head poking out of the Rakk’s midsection.

“There are rumors that our species was designed by the architects to help uplift new worlds,” it continued, twitching its small nose at her.  “As long as there is some plant or animal matter, Rakks are generally able to survive, and where you find a Rakk colony, you usually find new intelligent species developing concurrently.”

“That’s…” Kat trailed off for a bit before shrugging.  “Well fascinating actually.  Both for your role in galactic development and for the fact that my planet somehow concurrently evolved something that looks suspiciously like your species.”

“Indeed,” it answered, inclining its head slightly and flicking a right ear.  “Now if you will human, I believe my midsection is finishing off a transaction for a number of rock shrimp with your companion.”

Kat smiled at the alien and stepped back a bit, letting Sikka extend one her hands and transfer the necessary marks.  In exchange, the hands popping out of the robed Rakk’s stomach extended the box she had been inspecting earlier to her.

Sikka turned and walked toward Kat, smiling brightly.  As she approached, she extended the box to her.  Kat accepted it, and Sikkah breezed past walking toward another one of the vendors that traded in monster parts.

“Almost done now,” she said cheerfully despite her rigid crest.  “I have one or two more things to pick up and then we can start preparing for the ceremony itself.”

Kat nodded following Sikka to the stand where the lokkel quickly picked out a swatch of leather and a couple vials of brightly colored liquid, namely some blood and glandular extract from creatures that she had never heard of.  Once she had finished her purchases and accepted the burlap bag that contained them, Sikka stepped back from the stand to join Kat only for her to go perfectly still.

A group of six lokkel swept into the tiny adventurer’s hall, and the quiet chatter immediately ceased as a palpable aura of barely restrained power settled over everything.  To Kat, it felt like she was operating inside Gravity’s Grasp.  Her movements were slower and the Tower itself seemed to drag on her limbs.  Out of nowhere, she felt herself begin to sweat.

The two four armed lizards in the lead, one wearing resplendent silver plate covered in runes and etched reliefs of fantastic battles between creatures of legend, and the other in tightly fitting leather made from monster hide, surveyed the room before locking their eyes on Kat and Sikka.

They moved forward, dismissing the rest of the chamber with the casual insolence of the truly powerful.  At Kat’s side, she could feel the tension rolling off of Sikka in almost physical waves.

“Sikka Ahn,” he said, his deep bass voice leaving no question as to his gender.  “It is good to see you again.  I believe we last met some fifteen years ago at the clan gathering on Proxima Gammesta.”

“Yes Elder Stallok,” Sikka replied, only the slightest quaver in her voice.  “It is a pleasure to meet you again.  I hope that Dorrik’s ascension ceremony is pleasing to both you and the clan.”

“I’m sure it will be,” the lokkel wearing leather said haughtily.  “They are a grandchild of Eidrass, and he looks upon them favorably.  After all, if Eidrass did not believe strongly in Dorrik’s potential, he would not have asked Clan Ahn to increase the difficulty of this ritual or sent me to observe their progress.”

Sikka was practically vibrating next to Kat, but she managed to hold her tongue.

“So far Jaalin has reported only positive things,” Stallok said, seemingly trying to ease the tension a bit.  “Dorrik is truly one of the most talented sword wielders of their generation.  Now it is only a matter of seeing them put those skills to use.”

“They will succeed or they will not,” the leatherbound lokkel replied dismissively.  “If they are worthy of the Ancestor’s attention, they will receive it.  If not, it will be a disappointment, like many produced by the clan in recent years, but that will hardly be a surprise to Eidrass.”

Stallok stiffened slightly at the brusque response, but he kept himself from saying anything impolite.  Instead he turned his gaze to Kat.  The second his attention settled on her, it felt like the weight doubled.  It was clear that the lokkel wasn’t actively trying to harm her, but simply that his level was so high that his mere presence interfered with her ability to function normally.

She stood straight smiling at the lokkel and nodding slightly.

“And you must be Katherine Debs,” Stallok said evenly.  “It is not often that a lokkel travels alongside a probationary race, let alone a lokkel of Dorrik’s potential.  It is even less often that a member of a probationary race manages to perform a useful service to a clan.  I must thank you for your role in helping uncover the duplicitousness that we all knew hid in the hearts of the stallesp.  Your actions allowed Clan Ahn to earn great honor.”

“Thank you for letting me be here for Dorrik’s coming of age,” Kat replied, voice steady despite the sweat pouring down the sides of her face.  “They are a dear friend, and I am very grateful that Clan Ahn is letting me be present for such a momentous occasion.”

Stallok chuckled, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his muzzle.

“I think you have mistaken the situation,” He responded.  “The voyage to rush through level eight and brave the danger and pain of the ninth floor was calculated to be difficult on purpose.  That desoph companion of Dorrik’s and you both do the clan and Dorrik an honor by being here for this day.”

Kat’s mind scrambled to find a reply when the lokkel in leathers shifted slightly.  His gaze fell on her like a small building, tearing a gasp from her throat as it knocked the wind out of her.

She had no idea what level the lokkel was, but sweat was pouring down her face and her skin was on fire.  It felt like she was back out in the open, letting the rain of the ninth floor pour down on her without any source of protection.

“You are Dorrik Ahn’s human companion.”  It wasn’t actually a question, rather a flat statement from the inscrutable alien as Kat did everything she could to keep her knees from buckling underneath her.

Kat nodded, unable to push any words past her suddenly constricted throat.

“I have heard much about you,” he continued, “both in the dreamscape and in the waking world.  Your ascent so far has been impressive, an adjective I do not often waste on another species.”

“Conru,” Stallok chided, “she is only level nine.  A being of your level addressing her directly without hiding their aura is like torture.”

“It is a test,” Conru corrected, turning to look at the Clan Ahn elder.  Kat’s world wobbled as the weight and pain disappeared in a single blissful moment.  “One that she has passed.  She is not a grandchild of Eidrass, but she is a companion to one.  The Ancestor does not care for those who are not exceptional, but amongst those who stand out, he is not shy about offering his favor.  If she can shine alongside Dorrik, there will likely be future tests coming that human’s way, tests that will come with commiserate rewards to help forge her into the best possible version of herself.”

“Then you have conferred an honor upon her,” Stallok replied soothingly.  He nodded at Kat and Sikka.  “Come Conru, I will take you to the guest quarters in this encampment.  The ascension ceremony itself is some hours away and the two of us have much to discuss regarding the compacts and merchant factors that govern the Perseus trade route.”

The two of them turned and walked away, the other four lokkel silently following them.  Kat stood perfectly still beside Sikka as the two of them walked away.  Finally, almost a minute after the lokkel were completely out of sight, the quiet chatter of the adventurer’s hall began to return to normal.

Kat turned to Sikka, her eyes wide.

“What in the name of Jesus, Satan and Adam Smith was that?”

Sikka closed her eyes, crest as rigid as the moment she encountered Kat.  When she opened them, the lokkel could only muster a weak smile.

“That is what the upper levels of Clan Ahn are like.  It is why I wished the life of an ordinary lokkel on Dorrik.  I am a mid-level craftsman.  I make things and have the respect of my peers, but I do not have to worry about the tests, machination and responsibility of ruling multiple star systems.”

“It certainly was something,” Kat replied with a shudder.

“It is why I almost want Dorrik to fail,” Sikka replied quietly.  “If they were to succeed, there would only be further tests as the Clan and their Grandfather sought to turn them into a worthy successor.  There is great honor in the path they are walking, but still.  No parent would wish for their child to suffer so.”

Kat put a hand on Sikka’s shoulder.  The lokkel flinched slightly from the surprise of the contact before looking down at Kat’s ready smile.

“But they aren’t going to fail Sikka.  Dorrik thrives on that stress, on those tests.  I’ve had this same conversation with them, and more than anything this is the path that they want to take.  Hell, I’ve had this same conversation with my mother.  At some point, you have to step back and let your child succeed or fail on their own merits.”

“And believe me,” Kat finished, patting Sikka on the back.  “Dorrik is going to succeed on their own merits.  They’re too driven not to.”