GRANDORA: Chapter 8: Tour (Patreon)

Author’s note: Hey guys.

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A small note about the "Amin Week" - I still don't know what to call it. I've been thinking about it a bit - actually there wasn't much to think about - there WILL NOT BE ANY THIS MONTH. February is simply too short a month to squeeze something like this into. And if I did, I would feel extremely bad towards you. So "Amin Week" not happening until the end of March - unless something changes.

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Enjoy the chapter!

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Chapter 8: Tour - Link: https://www.patreon.com/posts/98463241

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Chapter 8: Tour

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Sure wasn’t a walk in ankle-deep snow. By the time I was ready to call it a day, all I had managed was to get used to melting rocks on my tongue with my mouth wide open. Sounds as thrilling as a snail race, doesn’t it? Yet, in truth, it was a step forward, unlocking a goldmine of possibilities for me.

The downside? Last night my head was buzzing with ideas and sleep was hard to get. Might as well have been my full stomach, but that was the pitfall of training with food. No matter how hard I tried, every stone I melted ended up in my stomach. Mom drilled the most important lesson into my head: never waste food. And up in the mines, snubbing any slop they threw your way was just plain idiocy. Sure, with Ferracore’s might coursing through me, these cave walls practically screamed ‘eat me’. But spitting out food? That was sacrilege, even in this gloomy abyss.

But hey, that was just one of the many things rubbing me the wrong way.

Morning rolled in, and to my relief, the rag I called clothes survived to cover my shame for another day. Granted, it didn’t cover much these days, yet the thought of wandering these caves stark naked was enough to make me shudder. Not my cup of mead, really. Up north, you bundled up in layers to brave the eternal cold. Hot summers were a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it affair, yet I donned more layers than I did in the mine.

Putting aside my morning grouchiness and the looming threat of nudity, breakfast time approached.

Funny thing, hunger had hit me overnight, so my practice kicked off with the first meal of the day. Breakfast alone wasn’t enough to master the use of the might outside my body. Heck, lunch couldn’t cut it either. But I inched closer to my goal. A stone precariously placed on my tongue just behind my teeth in the morning, one stubbornly clenched between my teeth in the afternoon, and as night beckoned, I succeeded in liquefying a rock trapped between my lips. I gulped half of it, the rest dripped down my chin onto the cave floor. There it stayed liquid for a while, trying to seep into the cracks like water, before the might fizzled out and it solidified back into limestone.

If that happened in my guts, I’d likely kick the bucket in agony. Thank the Grand Beasts for Ferracore’s might, preventing that from happening. No guarantee it would stay that way, though. You could drain your body’s might with Ether Gems or fancy skills. Been there, done that as a tot, playing with the blue flame. Then, of course, there was the grim prospect of your Grand Beast - a matter I’d rather not dwell on - dying. Hours, maybe days, and I’d be might-less. Carrying one of those Ether Crystals suddenly sounded like a splendid idea - better safe than sorry.

Another night slipped away with the dawn, so to speak, morning emerged, and there I was, mourning the disintegration of my last shreds of dignity - my so-called clothes. The rag fell apart, not even big enough bits to tie around my waist remained of it.

Well, trying my darndest not to dwell on it - or I’d be redder than a lobster - I plunged back into my practice at breakfast, careful not to spill too much food on the floor. Then, at lunch, it happened. I stuck out my tongue, a rock sitting just past my teeth. A thought of food and the might in my body swirled. It coursed through my tongue, the usual routine, and then, for the first time, into the stone outside my mouth. I almost choked on the victory cheers instead of properly swallowing the molten rock.

From there, it was just a matter of getting the hang of it and pushing my limits further. Well, as far as my tongue would allow. Unlike some Foxkin with snouts and tongues of matching lengths, I was stuck with this measly human one. Heck, I couldn’t even graze the tip of my own nose - a feat my little sister accomplished with ease.

As annoying as my tongue’s limitations had been in my youth, its length was ample enough for me to do what Ferracore wanted. As evening weariness set in, seemingly earlier each day, I found myself gleefully dribbling stones all over the floor. Messy? Sure. Wasteful? Absolutely. Most of the food ended up at my feet. Yet a thrill coursed through my veins.

That rush lasted until I realized I hadn’t reached the end of the path Ferracore had laid out for me. Licking walls came to mind - an interesting looking trick, for sure. But not what the Grand Beast had shown me.

So there I was, eyeing a stone just big enough to fit in the palm of my hand, too big for my mouth. I licked it. Not just any lick; I gave it the full-blown intention of devouring the darn thing. Yet, the might had its own notion, and the stone remained stubbornly unchanged, if not a tad wetter.

After a string of futile attempts, it finally dawned on me. Imagination had its limits. If I aimed to wield the might beyond my skin, I needed to wrest control from my body. Tomorrow’s problem, I decided, and promptly tucked the matter into my sleep-bound musings.

One nagging thought lingered as I drifted off, though - the Vetrifyr’s blue flame. Those flames used to dance outside my body, fueled by the might of the Grand Fox. What I struggled with now, I apparently had down pat as a wee lass.

“Dimwit, Eirlys! It’s just like the rocks!” I wailed, my voice bouncing off the cave walls like a slap in the face. The self-talk wasn’t a pathetic quirk of mine; it was a side effect of the sudden realization and solitude down here. Ferracore had his off days, leaving me with the company of my thoughts and the looming darkness. Back in the mines, chatting was a punishable offense, especially in the presence of the foremen, but opportunities to exchange a few words came and went.

But now, oh, how I yearned for that.

Nay, not the mines themselves, but the folk. I ached for those kind souls. And that darn blue flame? If I had to hazard a guess, it was like having a rock on the tip of my tongue. What I’d grasped in my youth bordered on wielding the might without actually steering it.

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The following days, or rather cycles, as I decided to call the flow of time for the sake of my sanity, were spent observing the might within my body during meals and my stone melting attempts. It went . . . at a pace that would make a snail impatient.

Don’t get me wrong, observing the mist of might weaving intricate patterns on the tip of my tongue was a stroll in the fresh snow. It wasn’t hard. Then what was the challenge? Getting the darn thing to follow my orders. It seemed to be a skill I had misplaced somewhere between “utterly useless” and “pathetic”. For days, the might had played coy, eluding my misty attempts at control. And it probably wouldn’t have changed if Ferracore, in all his grand wisdom, hadn’t decided I needed a change of scenery.

»It IS unhealthy to STAY in one place,« the Grand Beast said after seeing my newfound fascination with sitting on rocks for days on end, lost in my own thoughts. “And to eat the same thing over and over again.”

Was that why the Grand Beasts were always wandering, never nesting? They considered it unhealthy. Or maybe . . . and it was a big maybe, if they stayed, they’d pollute the place too much, making it ‘unhealthy’ for the others on Grandora. But were the Grand Beasts that considerate?

A few weeks ago, I would have scoffed at the idea without hesitation. Monsters who think of humans as pests? Yes. But after Ferracore’s grand tour and his generous teachings, I was warming to the idea that maybe, just maybe, they weren’t all bad. He held back his power in my presence, taught me, and even let me ride on his back.

Anyway, back to my tour. After spending countless days in just a few caves, this change of scenery was a real treat. Sure, they were all caves, but each had its own charm. Some smelled like the cozy embrace of dampness, others like a dirt-covered blanket; some were colder than a slave master’s heart, and some dazzled me with their brilliance. Ferracore led me through vast caverns, some arguably larger than the one with the golden ore, as well as tiny nooks barely wider than the passages he built to connect them all. Most importantly, he opened my world to new tastes.

Now, don’t get me wrong; it wasn’t like I suddenly developed a penchant for limestone. I did taste stone from other caves I dared to enter without Ferracore’s express permission. But alas, they all tasted as bitter as the first rock I tasted, if not worse. Ether crystals stood as the only alternative delicacy on the menu. Sure, I considered nibbling on them a few times - just to satisfy my curiosity; you know. Thankfully, my madness only went as far as talking to myself aloud.

“Thank you,” I murmured, tearful, as I gnawed on what resembled the taste of broccoli.

»No NEED to force IT, child of mine. EVEN I find it hard TO swallow. Humans, HOWEVER, seem to LIKE this metal VERY much.«

“Oh,” I paused, wiping away my tears and meeting the Grand Beast’s gaze. “Is that silver?”

»NO, iron. But silver IS nearby. Come, I WILL take you there.«

Even though “nearby” was not in the Grand Beast’s interpretation of “just around the corner,” I merrily chased after him, contemplating the flavor of silver. As it turned out, silver tasted salty - not your typical salt, though, more like a salty spread or seasoned meat. Minus the taste of meat, just the salt . . . well, it was hard to describe.

»ARE those tears AGAIN?«

“Sorry,” I mumbled, mouth full. “It’s just that I haven’t tasted anything salty in years.”

Back in the mines, my rations were a delightful mix of ancient hard bread soaked in water to make it edible, and the occasional baked potato. Asking for salt to improve the flavor was a fool’s errand; salt was apparently too precious for the likes of slaves.

“Salt,” I sighed as I swallowed another mouthful of silver. “Is there any around?” If the silver tasted salty, I couldn’t help but wonder if ordinary salt would still taste salty to me, or if Ferracore’s might would give it a whole new flavor.

»Not THAT I am aware of,« the Grand Beast replied, dashing my salty hopes.

“I see,” I said, my ear drooping as I stuffed a handful of small silver stones into my mouth. But before the behemoth could react, I snapped out of it. “Are there other places with interesting tasting rocks?”

»I know YOU fear it, but you ARE becoming more LIKE me than YOU realize,« Ferracore chuckled. »THERE is nothing more exhilarating THAN wandering about and stumbling UPON something tasty. BUT know this, child of MINE, not far from HERE is a very funny tasting mineral.«

“Yes!” I beamed and scampered after the Grand Beast, thinking to myself how strangely funny this whole tour had turned out to be. Back in the day, my sister and I used to dream of traveling the world, visiting all the eateries, taverns, and inns, and savoring every bite. I missed her so much it hurt. Yet I was so glad she didn’t have to suffer through all the shit I did.

»Here,« Ferracore growled, stomping hard enough to make the whole cave quake. What followed was a shower of tiny yellow crystals, their impact on the ground ringing throughout the cave like an orchestra of tiny bells.

“That . . . is amazing,” I gushed, mouth agape.

»And YOU have not even tasted IT yet,« Ferracore said with an unusually childlike glee, licking the floor littered with tiny yellow crystals. Then he shivered and purred. Unable to resist my curiosity, I swiftly scooped up a handful of fingernail-sized crystals and popped a few into my mouth. Without the Grand Beast’s might, they tasted mundane.

But when Ferracore’s might touched the crystals, I squealed in surprise. The crystals popped, breaking into smaller ones that popped again, and so on, each time slightly tickling my mouth and tongue, eventually indulging my taste buds with a bizarre sweet and sour flavor. I may not have purred like Ferracore, but my heart danced with childlike joy. That one mouthful of yellow crystals was definitely not enough. It wasn’t until I was on the verge of throwing up because of how full I was that I stopped eating.

»THAT was fun, wasn’t it?« Ferracore asked me with childish amusement. This new side of him was just odd, but I liked it. It made the Grand Beasts, or at least Ferracore, less unapproachable, more . . . human.

“Loads of fun,” I admitted, sprawled out on my back with a happy belly. The smile quickly faded from my lips, however, as my thoughts took a dark detour. “Actually, I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun.”

Sure, the mine cart rides down the shafts were thrilling, but the harsh reality awaited at the end. Here, the worst I had to deal with was a hard floor. I could savor the blissful warm fuzz of joy tingling through my body.

Ferracore hummed, satisfied. »Do YOU know what the BEST part of fun is, CHILD of mine?«

Fun had parts? “The enjoyment?”

»Besides THAT,« the Grand Beast chuckled. »It IS that it can NOT be forced. YOU either enjoy it OR you don’t.«

“Ah, true.”

»THERE are other things THAT are like that, child OF mine.«

“I suppose . . . love could be one. Or hatred.”

»Indeed, PURE emotions are like THAT. But can YOU think of anything BEYOND those?«

“Hmm . . . ” I paused, wondering where Ferracore was going with this. Clearly, this tour wasn’t merely for my indulgence in new tastes.

»Allow ME to simplify. IS it easier to WALK against the wind IN a blizzard or WITH it?«

“With it, of course.”

»What ABOUT swimming in THE river?«

Has Ferracore ever swum in a river? That dug out flooded tunnel in which I rode on his back didn’t exactly qualify as one. In fact, I found it hard to imagine a snowstorm raging somewhere down here, too. So how could he talk about such things as if he knew them when . . . ?

“Dimwit Eirlys’ore!” The memories of Vetrifyr, of course, thousands of years of them. There was no point in questioning Ferracore’s experience and knowledge when they didn’t belong to a single Grand Beast.

“Downstream. It’s easier to swim with the current,” I replied after some thought. The point of all that Ferracore had said so far was about forcing things. That much I saw.

»Indeed IT is. Then TRY to think of my MIGHT as a current of water, CHILD of mine.«

Ah, the entire tour was one grand lesson. A tasty one, though. “But how do I control the . . . current?” I asked, after giving it some thought. After all, I couldn’t fault the Grand Beast for trying to help me.

»You do NOT. You go WITH the flow, child of mine.«

“Isn’t that what I’ve been doing?”

»YOU drift withTHE current. You ARE letting yourself BE carried by it.«

Sure, that was one way to describe my lack of skill. A thought, an image in my mind, and the might did the rest.

“But isn’t going with the flow the same thing?”

»IS it? I would think YOU would know BEST the difference between DOING things willfully and against YOUR will.«

That cut deep. If Ferracore weren’t the Grand Beast, I’d give him a piece of my mind in a heartbeat. How dare he compare it to my years as a slave!

Yet, begrudgingly, the comparison held some merit.

The foremen, our masters, kept a firm hand over us. They controlled us with an iron grip, something I tried to do with the might in my body. Like water and slaves, the might sought cracks in my concentration to escape. “So you’re telling me to let the might have its way? But how do I get it to do what I want?”

»HOW would anyone GET you to do the same THING you did up there AMONG the humans?«

To say that no one would ever make me work in the mines again was on the tip of my tongue, but that wasn’t what Ferracore was asking. “By giving me what I want . . . a proper reward for my work. Wait! Is that it? I have to reward the might?”

»In a WAY,« Ferracore said, pleased that I had finally stumbled upon the right answer.

“But how? With what?” It wasn’t my body, my humanity, was it? If so, I’d rather starve to death than become a beast capable of melting stones by licking them.

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Author’s note:

I've also been thinking more about Grandora - I mean the path the story is taking so far. I didn't think the introduction would take so many chapters, but it can't be helped as Eirlys learns so many things from Ferracore. That's why I'm thinking that maybe it would be better to think of the current - and the next few chapters - as more of a prologue. Just food for thought. :)

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