Chapter 195 - Considerations And Preparations (Patreon)

Deacon Mathayes

Deacon Mathayes floated between the auras of two Templari. Their long hoods were pulled low to cover their disfigured features. He had never seen a Templari's flesh, and he didn't particularly want to either. Hearing the rumors was enough, though there was no telling how much truth there was in them.

Mathayes wasn't particularly bothered by the incredibly powerful warriors who had dedicated themselves solely to the Voice. Sure, they were several tiers above him and could be considered some of the most powerful individuals in the empire, but they rarely ever spoke. The silent atmosphere of supremacy they exuded, and knowing they were loyal beyond measure, was incredibly comforting rather than disconcerting.

The shaft they traveled down was just wide enough for the three of them to remain shoulder to shoulder. Its walls were made of a formation created by the Apostles themselves and no aura weaker than their own could pierce it. The three of them had been moving at an unbelievable speed for what felt like hours, but in the all-consuming darkness of the tunnel, there was no way to know for sure.

The straight path suddenly came to a halt, continuing to the side at a perfect ninety-degree angle. They moved in the new direction for another hour before arriving at a set of double doors with a hole in the center. Without needing to be urged, Deacon Mathayes stuck his arm into the hole as he had been directed by the cardinal.

Something inside pierced his skin in a hundred places before the doors rumbled open. He pulled his arm free, finding no marks of any kind to validate the sensations he had felt. Whatever it was that the Cardinal had him eat before coming here, it had apparently worked to keep him alive during the verification.

The constricting tunnel opened into a wide room. There were no decorations or comforts in the space, only a dais with a single pedestal. On its top was an egg the size of a head that oscillated between light and dark with a steady rhythm like the beating of a heart.

“So that’s it? The Holy Reterer.” Mathayes mumbled, not daring to step even a single foot into the sanctified room.

For the first time since their journey began, one of the Templari spoke, “Indeed. The Apostles’ have dedicated their mana to this very artifact for centuries. Their devotion will be our path to victory.”

Hearing the fervent zealotry in the Templari’s tone, Mathayes was quick to remind him of the Cardinal’s warning, “The Holy Reterer is precious beyond fathomability. It holds enough power to annihilate the entire empire in an instant. It must not be used unnecessarily.”

“We understand, Lord Deacon. Its use would mean our demise and we would never again have the pleasure of serving the Voice. We will take all precautions, and save its use for a truly last resort situation, as instructed.”

With a nod, Deacon Mathayes began the chant that would give the tier nine Templari access to the sacred room long enough to secure the Holy Reterer.

Jiran of Madra

The last half day with Mayalyn could only be described as blissful. Her question was still churning in the back of one of his minds, only mildly distracting him from the formation he was creating and the satisfaction he felt at being in her presence. Right after asking it, she had reverted to her carefree, happy self and they had hidden away to work together. Her bubbly personality, teasing touches, and seductive looks had done wonders to bring his emotional state into balance, as usual. For what felt like the thousandth time, Jiran silently thanked her for everything that she was and for all the burdens she took upon herself without ever having been asked.

They were currently in a burrow deep underground, standing on opposite ends of a waist-high table. They each worked on their own projects, sharing an amicable silence which Jiran broke, “Thank you, Maymay.”

Her tone was full of warmth as she responded, “You are welcome,” She smiled, not looking up from her task.

“You’re not even going to ask me why I’m thanking you?” Jiran chuckled, finding her antics adorable.

“Your gratitude is thick enough to choke upon. If I asked, you would go on and on about how amazing I am and the taste would never fade. These moments are more special when they come and go naturally like the waves,” She released a wistful sigh, no doubt remembering the island she spent most of her life on before changing the subject, “Let us return to silence, you have much to think on.”

Jiran sighed and did as she asked, knowing she was right.

Am I prepared to claim them both?

The more I think about that seemingly simple question, the more I realize how deep it is. The dynamics of a regular relationship are hard enough; requiring communication, give and take, support, time, and sacrifice to name a few. The list of what it takes to stay together happily over the years goes on and on. With how long we're capable of living, balancing all of those variables is even more important.

The moment you add a third variable to the mix, every aspect of the relationship takes on a whole new meaning. Even more important are the feelings that go along with those dynamics and how easily they can be tainted. Mayalyn’s question strikes at the core of both envy and jealousy. Only with incredibly clear boundaries, set in stone by the single individual with the most power in the relationship, can emotional issues be prevented before they even begin.

She's asking… No, she's telling me that if I'm not ready to set those boundaries and take command of the relationship, then including Olive would end in failure. I have to know exactly what I want and be willing to make that dream happen no matter the obstacle, or what anyone says or thinks.

Basically, before I even begin to consider including Olive in our lives more deeply, I need to man up.

The part about responsibility is just as deep. Olive's current feelings are partly my fault. I never made my stance perfectly clear to her in the past. I’ve known there was some attraction there on her part and I never once shut her down. Instead, I went out of my way to tease her on multiple occasions which has already created a situation where she stands to be hurt. If I accept her feelings, then doing what I can to ensure her happiness becomes my obligation. Not to mention the other things the word ‘responsibility’ usually implies! Which I am not ready for. But if I enter a relationship without being willing to account for that in the future, I’ll just be the worst kind of scum.

I… honestly don't know what I want to do, and that indecisiveness will only end up hurting all three of us. No matter what, I've already made mistakes and I need to take responsibility for the feelings I've helped create.

I guess the first step is discovering how I truly feel about Olive. Obviously, there is attraction, she's gorgeous. But that's hardly all there is to her. She’s loyal, dedicated, intelligent, resourceful, honorable… and bossy! Honestly, she’s great, but could I ever be as hopelessly in love with her as I am with Mayalyn? I'll keep thinking about it slowly, I already told Olive we would talk about it after the battle, so I should have a few days to let my feelings percolate.

Jiran snuck a glance at Mayalyn when she started humming. She looked as cheerful as a calm’s day and her smile was as bright as all three suns combined. When they first started crafting, he had spent a great deal of time explaining all of his new skills in depth and everything he had discovered about them that wasn't in the descriptions. She had been quiet since then, asking for time to process.

Some time later, she paused her drawing and met his gaze, “Why are you not loading your gravity bombs with an element in advance? Would that not increase their potential output? What if you needed to use one where there was no matter to absorb?”

Jiran’s jaw fell open at the sudden suggestion that was so obvious he wanted to kick himself for not thinking of it, “Maymay, you’re a genius!”

“Or perhaps you have a tendency to cease considerations after something becomes… adequate.”

Jiran ignored her taunt, his minds already lost in thought about which element would be the best for the job. Knowing she liked to be included in his ideas about skills, he vocalized his thoughts, “Lightning wouldn’t work very well unless the gravity ball was completely stuffed with it, because the energy would too easily be grounded by whatever else got sucked inside. Filling it with bits of metal wouldn’t be any more deadly than it already is. Water, wind, ice, or fire could have specific applications or work well against a particular type of beast but again wouldn't drastically increase the overall power and they would certainly increase the mana cost.

Acid and Light both sound interesting,” Jiran mused while picturing a tsunami of acid drowning the Gramin army. “As for light, I honestly have no idea what will happen if I cram that element into a gravity well and it’s released all at once. Considering how deadly mana-induced light has been in the past, I’m sure it won't be a small or negligent effect…” He trailed off while looking at his helmet, making a mental note to adjust the visor.

Mayalyn nodded along as Jiran finished verbalizing his thoughts, “I suppose the best in terms of both cost and power would be gasses. Once I’m a bit stronger, I might consider uranium. I’m not exactly sure how to enrich it and I'm not confident I can survive that kind of fallout either.”

“What is uranium?” She tilted her head.

“Something from my memories that I’m honestly terrified to even try. I don’t know much about it either. I know there's an enrichment process and what the end result should be so mana ought to do the rest. Yeah, nevermind. I’m not going to mess with it until I’m more powerful than the emperors for sure.”

Mayalyn shivered, “Knowing how reckless you are, that does indeed sound terrifying. Are you going to try it? The gasses, I mean.”

Jiran's grin was positively evil as his eyes lit up with excitement, “Absolutely!”

* * * 

Over the last day, Jiran had made several trips to the surface to check on the state of the battlefield. He assisted Niya with healing, checked in with his friends and allies, recovered dwindling mana supplies, and took several potshots at the horde to thin their advance. Once done, he would race back to Mayalyn’s side to continue preparations for anything the Graymin might throw at them. He had shared the concerns of both Vironia and Lostrifar, so the two of them also spent a considerable amount of time with their heads together coming up with countermeasures against threats that may come from friendly soil.

It was one of those very countermeasures that first detected the presence speeding beneath the soil near their burrow. When Jiran received the warning from one of his new scout formations, he immediately dropped what he was doing and locked eyes with Mayalyn, “Something, probably an aura, is moving quickly through the ground a few kilometers to the east.” Another beam of his mana from a separate formation zipped along the framework and into his body, alerting him to an additional contact. “There’s more than one, they aren't moving fast enough to reach the second layer of formations yet, so they probably aren't anyone too high a tier. Let's go.”

Jiran’s assumption was that whoever these new arrivals were, they were beneath the seventh tier. Not only from their lack of speed but also because of a lack of reaction from the framework, which usually vibrated in a particular way when someone seventh tier or above came within a certain distance of him.

Mayalyn didn’t try to restrain her anticipation, her claws extending and retracting from the gloves he had added to her upgraded suit that was now packed with formations. She shot him a loaded look, “I will be sure to reward you later.”

Jiran latched his helmet in place and lifted them both out of the burrow, “For what?” He honestly wanted to know so he could repeat whatever had earned him such a promising expression.

“You included me without knowing how much I would appreciate it? Now, I will have to reward you twice.”

“Why do I get the feeling you're slowly training me like a pet?” Jiran tried to make his voice sound petulant but his chuckle ruined it.

“Slowly?” Mayalyn’s snort echoed out of her helmet as she finished clasping it beneath her chin.

Jiran’s cheer was shattered in an instant when they reached an altitude where Mana Omnis could reveal what triggered his scout formations. Swimming beneath the ground were a dozen ghostly figures made from a mixture of mana and aura, almost like a mobile formation. He recognized them right away and soon spotted their source. Since it was unlikely the perpetrator would flee, Jiran approached at a steady pace, his mood growing worse by the second.

“You're about to meet someone I really don't know how to deal with. He's a murderer, a kidnapper, and who knows what else. If his emotions are too much for you, let me know. Also, if you have any opinions on if I should kill him or not, I definitely want to hear those, too.”

“Understood,” Mayalyn responded simply, having shifted to serious mode.

Jiran’s anger spiked the moment he was close enough to shout at Mark the Hiss who stood perfectly still with a hopeful, cheery smile, “Why are you here?!”

Markhiss bowed as though they were at some formal gathering and not standing in the middle of the desert, “I came to find you after intercepting a message from those who wish you harm.” His voice grated on Jiran’s nerves and a memory of Olive and Cameron trapped in a cage flashed through his minds.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed Mayalyn shake her head subtly and Jiran’s mana exploded threateningly from his skin, “You’re lying?!”

Markhiss threw himself onto the ground, all pretenses vanishing in an instant, “Please forgive me! It is true that I intercepted the message and that I wish to relay it to you but there is more. I came because I wanted to return to your side. To feel the peace you bring me once more. I want the voices to stop! I-I can't live like this any more!” The tier six broke into heaving sobs, his tears absorbing into the unquenchable sands.

Jiran was momentarily stunned upon seeing the once proud and violent psychopath reduced to such a state. Taking the lack of response as permission, Markhiss continued, “I’ve been so good since we parted. I-I saved innocents, and have only killed those who seek to bring ruin to the empire. Discard me if you must, but I beg you, please listen to my message first. It is of dire importance!”

Son of a bitch. If I listen and it’s actually something that could save me or one of my friends, I’ll be indebted to him again. It'll be the exact same as when he helped Niya and I couldn't bring myself to kill him. I bet he’s been waiting for a chance like this. What a creep. I need to maintain the upper hand with this guy or he’s only going to get more annoying.

“How can I trust you after you lied to me?”

“I-I don’t need your trust. I don’t need you to treat me well, or even let me live. I… really can’t go on with this life any longer. I lost everything already. I thought if I looked for the truth long enough, I could find a way to bring her back but after tasting sanity again after so long, I can no longer bear the voices.”

“So you’re saying you don’t want to live any longer if I reject you again?”

“That’s right. This is my last chance. If you don’t even want me as a faithful tool, then I’ll fly into the horde and let it all end.”

“Prove it,” Jiran demanded with a straight face.

“I… how can I prove my sincerity?” Markhiss was no longer trembling, his expression once more showing a glimmer of hope.

“Give me complete control of your aura. Accept whatever I do without fighting back or even thinking of resisting. Totally surrender to me. If you can do that, I’ll listen to your message and accept you as my tool.”

Mayalyn rubbed her hand over her suit where it covered one of her pockets. She could feel the hard bump that was the crystal she always kept hidden there, “My Aajiran, I do not believe this is a good idea. What if it happens again?”

“If I lose control, can you help me like you did last time?”

“Do you even need to ask?” Suddenly, she jerked off her helmet and her tongue flicked out to taste the air. Her eyes narrowed as she fixed him with a steely glare, “Why are you suddenly feeling guilty… Did you try this without me nearby to protect you?”

Despite Jiran wearing his helmet, she somehow knew he was cringing and the look of unbridled fury that passed over her features let him know he definitely wasn’t going to be getting off easy this time.