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Author’s note: Hey guys.

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So the first chapter of this week and the last chapter of Grandora before I post a poll. I don't know about you, but I feel like it would take more chapters to get a clearer picture of which of the two stories I'd like to focus on more. However, writing two stories at a time, well three if you count Lament of the Slave (I have the chapter written, by the way, just need to edit and polish it - I'd see a release on Sunday) is challenging, to say the least. I simply need to make that decision and go into the next month already with only one story in mind (+ LoS, of course).

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Anyway, enough of my rambling, enjoy the chapter!

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Chapter 6: Memento - Link: https://www.patreon.com/posts/97103623

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Chapter 6: Memento

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Afraid to open my eyes for fear of losing the sensation of Ferracore’s might, I tried to remember as much as I could, to imprint that feeling as deeply as possible. It would be so galling to let it slip through my fingers after all that effort. But much to my frustration, that was exactly what the might in the crystal seemed to be doing. No matter how I tried to grab it, or even just touch it with my imaginary hand, it always slipped away like an autumn mist.

Giving up, however, was not an option, so only when I was sure that there was nothing more for me to learn - at least for now - did I open my eyes. My gaze immediately fell on my hand resting on the crystal, leading to the breaking of my concentration. The contact I just had with Ferracore’s might in the crystal was lost. A feeling of loneliness rushed through my body and I shuddered.

The realization that followed was even worse.

I found myself craving the presence of Ferracore’s might, wanting to touch it again, embrace it, even bring it into my body. Test of the worthy, the priests called this insane desire for more. Just a fancy name for an addiction to the might. But something not limited to those who had come in contact with the purest and strongest form of it. Even an ordinary person, weak of mind, could become addicted, and now I understood why. Being in the throes of it was so . . . comfortable.

The question arose in my mind, though: why didn’t I ever feel that way with Frostflame and his might?

Well, there was a simple answer: I had never been exposed to such a pure and concentrated form of it, be it his might trapped in Ether Gems or that of the Grand Fox himself. I never got as close to him as I did to Ferracore. Frostflame - or Vetrifyr in the Ancient tongue. With the thought of him and his might, my eyes wandered to the youngest of the Grand Beasts.

»Yes, CHILD of mine?« Ferracore asked between chews on one of the crystals, noticing that I had a question on my tongue but was hesitant to ask.

“I . . . if I may be so bold, Ferracore . . . do you suppress your might in my presence?”

The behemoth hummed, satisfied. »Indeed, I AM. The full weight of IT would be too MUCH for your body.«

“I don’t know what to say . . . ” I stammered, struck by his consideration for me. Definitely not something I’d expect from the Grand Beast to a single human. We were ants to them, nobody important - or so I thought until now.

Or perhaps Ferracore just didn’t want to lose the only distraction down here, his new toy. I banished that awful thought at once. Even if that were the truth and I was no better at being a slave in a mine, I’d be just as helpless to do anything about it. A lie, perhaps, but better to think of myself as something more, a free woman, than to make myself a slave again, even in my mind.

»SAY nothing and focus ON the might WITHIN the crystals, child OF mine.«

“But isn’t it uncomfortable for you? The whole word . . . ” If he was suppressing his might, it meant that the whole world would be short of it because of me, that his might wouldn’t bite into anyone else’s flesh, that no other Foxkin would get a second chance like I did.

»YOU misunderstood. I HOLD back my might FOR you, not for THE world.«

“J-just around me?”

»Indeed.«

That actually made a lot of sense. That way, it wouldn’t be so much of a burden for him. Or so I imagined. At the very least, it spoke to his ability to control his might. And in no way did it diminish his thoughtfulness for me. If anything, the opposite.

“Thank you - thank you, Ferracore, f-from the bottom of my heart.” I bowed respectfully.

»It WOULD be more settling IF you did as I ASKED, child of mine.«

In a way, I already did. But I didn’t dare bring it up. This half-assed sense of might wasn’t what he had in mind. It was just a fluke. One that I now had to turn into the ability to sense his might whenever I felt like it. So I returned to the crystals, planted my ass on the ground again, placed my hand on one of them, and focused my mind.

The second time was much easier, and within a few breaths, I was touching the might inside the crystal once again. The same feeling rushed through my body: warmth, comfort, and safety. Getting lost in it would be so easy.

Knowing the consequences, I resisted the temptation and just did my best to get used to the feeling. Alas, to accomplish the same thing with my eyes open took much longer than I thought. So long, in fact, that the dangerous beast of hunger crept back into my stomach. When it did, any hope of a sound focus was gone.

It didn’t take much explaining to the Grand Beast. Ferracore understood all too well. After all, that was one of the reasons I saw him eating most of the time. He had to concentrate on absorbing Vetrifyr’s memories, not on his stomach.

After a not-so-short run that made me even hungrier, I found myself in a cave whose walls were milky white and whose ceiling was covered with tiny stalactites. Limestone. One of the few rocks I recognized. In the cursed Empire above, I saw many carved statues and buildings made of it, things our masters used to brag about. Walking down the street there, handcuffed, I hated the sight of such splendor, but now my heart danced with joy. Most likely not sweet like gold, my mind raced with the possibilities of what limestone might taste like.

Hopefully - not bitter.

Knowing what to do, I didn’t wait for Ferracore to tell me and picked up a small fragment from the ground. The limestone was cold on my tongue and tasted like any other stone, rocky. Then, recalling the feeling of eating, two things happened.

For the first time in my life, I felt the might bitten into my body to swirl. Like mist chasing the wind, the might rushed to my tongue and surrounded the piece of the limestone. Before I knew it, the stone on my tongue melted and I tasted . . . bread. Yeah, bread. The limestone actually tasted like bread. It didn’t have the texture, the crisp crust, but it tasted a lot like freshly baked bread.

After years of not tasting anything like it, I found myself in tears.

»Something WRONG, child of mine,« Ferracore wondered, puzzled. »Is IT the stones? I KNOW they are NOT the tastiest, but . . . «

“No, it’s . . . delicious,” I said, freezing in horror. Cutting into the Grand Beast’s speech was a grave offense, one that could only cost you your life if you were lucky - or so I was taught. Either that was a lie, or Ferracore was different from the other Grand Beasts. He grunted in disapproval, but that was all. My death did not come.

And that dissatisfaction had more or less to do with the fact that I liked limestone. »ARE you sure? I FIND it rather plain.«

Now that Ferracore said that, I realized that this cave was one of the smaller ones I had seen here underground, a quarter of the size of the one with the golden ore.

“No, I like it . . . I like it a lot,” I said, stuffing my mouth full of limestone rocks to prove it; glad he wasn’t mad.

»If you SAY so. For ITS bland taste, I FIND it quite filling.«

It might as well have been as he said. However, I enjoyed every bit of the limestone, despite its not-so-bready consistency, wondering what it would taste like with a piece of gold. Would it be like bread with honey? Was there a rock or mineral down here that tasted like butter? If so . . . would it be possible to taste bread buttered and honeyed again, like my mother used to make for me in the winter months?

A gal could dream, right?

To be honest, it was a nice change to have a chance to make my dreams come true, instead of seeing them as pure delirium. And so, in good spirits, I silenced the beast in my stomach once more, followed by a short rest. A really short one, for as soon as I began to digest the food, the perfect time came to sense Ferracore’s might in my body. The warm feeling was coming from my stomach once again.

As with the crystals, I placed my hands on my belly and focused. To my surprise, I experienced the same thing shortly after, and my hands seemed to sink into my body. A yelp almost escaped my lips. The feeling of having your hands inside your body was . . . well, weird, to say the least. But aside from the weirdness, there was the same fog of Ferracore’s might rolling in there - in me. Hardly the amount in the crystal, of course - while the might there was like a thick mist, the one in me was more like a thin haze - but it was there, I saw it. A moment of further focus, and I was able to make out my guts and stomach, around which the haze swirled the most, being absorbed as it aided my digestion. Fascinating, for sure. Disturbing - a lot.

Actually, the sight of my innards didn’t do me any good at all. Nevertheless, after swallowing some sourness, I managed to keep the contents of my stomach where they belonged. Although it did raise the question of what my vomit would actually look like. Like normal vomit - a stinking mess of undigested food? Or like lava? I had my doubts about the latter. The stones did melt on my tongue, but they didn’t get that hot - thankfully. Imagining Ferracore having no trouble swallowing lava wasn’t hard. The same was not true for me. I was damn sure something like that would burn through me as easily as it would through any other human.

Regardless, I wasn’t going to throw up in front of the Grand Beast, not involuntarily, let alone out of curiosity. That feeling of disgrace, disrespect, and shame went away, replaced by a new one not so different when I was forced to ask Ferracore to take me to another poop cave. To my relief, nature took the reins in this case, handling the might of the Grand Beast just as it did with my digestion. And without that might, the experience would have been, shall we say, rather unpleasant. The result of my digestion was not so different from the black boulders left in the cave by the Grand Beast.

With my mind once again free of any needs, I marveled at how much work Ferracore’s must have been doing in my body. Fascinating on the one hand, terrifying on the other. Wasn’t I getting closer to becoming a beast just by eating; something I couldn’t avoid? The urge to claim that this was not the case with Frostflame’s might, I thankfully shoved away before I said anything out loud. Think before you speak - that’s what my mother told me. And so I thought about it.

All I knew of Foxkin’s abilities was blue flame. Not the kind you’d use every day, like melting your food on your tongue. That cold flame didn’t warm you up, didn’t cook your food. However, all Foxkin were naturally resistant to the cold. That was why all the Foxkin kingdoms were in cold regions, and you could hardly find anyone of my race in the hot deserts. The implications of that shocked the shit out of me. Unbeknownst to the Foxkin, at least to the vast majority of the population, they were likely shortening their lives simply by staying in cold regions.

Of course, I was aware that I could be wrong, but still . . .

Well, none of that mattered, not anymore.

Or did it?

Despite having already learned to sense his might within me, Ferracore pushed me to see more. Of course, I knew that my inner sight, or whatever it was called, wasn’t perfect, far from it. Everything was kind of fuzzy and more or less hazy. But as far as I knew, even the best had spent their whole lives practicing something like this. Was that what Ferracore expected of me? That I’d sit here on my ass for years? Or did he think that for some reason I would get it in a few days?

If so, he was in for a disappointment.

I was no one special; I wasn’t a genius, praised across the kingdoms, I wasn’t . . . huh?

The more I focused on the nuances of the might in my body, the sharper I could see where it swirled, where it clustered. And to my amazement, a thicker layer of this mist clung to my skin. I checked and rechecked. I focused with my eyes closed and wide open, standing and sitting - but no matter what I tried, no matter what angle I looked at the haze in my body, I just couldn’t un-see it.

My mind raced with possibilities. Was this some sort of Ferracore’s ability I didn’t know about? Tougher skin, perhaps? Or was I still using Foxkin powers? If so, how? The Grand Fox was dead. There was not an ounce of his might left in the world. Well, except maybe the one trapped in the Ether Crystals deep underground in another cave similar to the one I had learned in a short while ago.

“Ferracore?”

»ASK,« the Grand Beast said, as if waiting for me to inquire.

“Do I . . . ?” Why the hesitation? It was a simple question. Yet my body trembled at the thought of the possibility. “Am I still able to use the might of Frostflame?”

»No, you ARE not, child of MINE,” Ferracore tempered my excitement, a hint of disappointment in his voice. I obviously failed, but at what? If it wasn’t the might of the Grand Fox, then . . . oh.

“Are they his abilities that I can still use?”

»INDEED, child of mine.«

“But h-how?”

»How DO you think?«

“Aren’t the abilities of the Grand Beasts tied to their might?”

»They ARE indeed unique to EACH of us. But WOULD you forget how TO breathe just because you LOST your leg?«

What the actual fuck?! “Of c-course I wouldn’t.”

»THEN you have your answer, CHILD of mine.«

Did I? “I can still use what I learned from Frostflame . . . through your might?”

»It IS much more complicated THAN that, but yes - TO some extent.«

“The blue flame?” The resistance to the cold was one thing - it was something beyond my control, subconscious. But the blue flame required my deliberate use.

»If YOU managed to WEAVE Vetrifyr’s might that WAY, then yes - to AN extent.«

Sure, there was a catch. The flame couldn’t be the same as if a Frostflame might had bitten into my body and fueled it. The problem was that I had never really learned to weave his might. All I had mastered was what most Foxkin did, which was to force the might in our bodies to do what we wanted through our imagination.

“So I won’t be able to use it if I didn’t even sense his might, right?” I asked, disappointment seeping into my voice. The flame didn’t seem very useful to me back then - it was something nice to have, fun, proof that I belonged somewhere and that I wasn’t completely inept. All in all, not necessarily something I need back in my life. But it was a reminder of my time with my family, of what they taught me - the only thing I have left of them now. So if I could wield that blue flame again, I would.

»No, NOT necessarily, child OF mine.«

“There is a way?” My ear perked up, hope rekindled.

»Indeed, THERE is. It will depend ON your will, though, FOR your path to GET there, while the same AS the first time, WILL be much harder THAN it was when you WERE younger.«

The same? “All I have to do is imagine the blue flame?”

»If THAT is the way, THEN yes.«

That sounded way too easy. The opposite of what Ferracore claimed.

But without further ado, I plopped down on my ass and pictured a little flame at the tip of my index finger, just like my parents taught me. Nothing happened, of course, as it had the first time and as it had for the last five years. As a child, I didn’t have a clear enough image of the blue flame in my mind, as a slave, I lacked the might to feed the flame. Now, though, I had both.

Then why didn’t it work? Why did nothing happen when Ferracore said it should? Did I remember the blue flame all wrong - possible, it had been more than five years since I had last conjured it. Long enough to forget. Even the faces of my parents and my sister were no longer as clear to me as they once were. But the blue flame could have been a way to change that. I had a lot of memories tied to my family with it. So if there was a chance to make those memories clearer, to get some memento of my family, I wasn’t going to just give up. Not anytime soon.

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Author’s note:

Thanks for reading.

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Comments

Crazy

I agree with any comments that there are simply too few chapters to decide. Especially for Ratchetmare. It feels like it needs at least a few more chapters to tell what that story is really even about. It’s like showing someone two cars but they only can see each car for 0.1 seconds. Then they have to decide which they want to use for the rest of their life. I understand writing two stories is difficult, but forcing a premature decision is worse in the long run. You have already annoyed anybody who signed up because they loved Lament of the Slave. Don’t jump up and down on the thin ice, it might break.

Dan Nicolae Barzu (edited)

Comment edits

2024-02-10 17:42:24 If anything living in cold areas extends the live time
2024-01-24 20:36:07 If anything living in cold areas extends the live time

If anything living in cold areas extends the live time

Nirrvash

Really? I didn't know that. I would think it would be very challenging and if something life-shortening.

Nirrvash

Honestly, the more and more I think about it, the more I have to agree with you. Only, when I went ahead with this decision, I thought I would have a clear picture by the end of January. Instead, I find myself wondering which story I want to continue, reminiscing about Lament of the Slave. I wish I could fully commit to it again, but I stand by my decision to stop - if I continued with the story, sooner or later, I'd burn out. Anyway, I'm gonna release the poll anyway. It'll be interesting to see what you guys think.