When I woke up after losing consciousness in the Nether Vein, I found myself in a soft bed with metal bars and one of the cleanest rooms I had seen in all of Zairgon. There was an air of sterility about it, though not quite the familiar smell of disinfectants and antiseptics. Still, it was pretty obvious I was in a hospital.
I wanted to try and relax in my seemingly comfortable surroundings, but the terrible throb in my cut-off leg was already trying to draw out tears.
Thankfully, it only took a few minutes before a dishevelled but also rather clean woman appeared and held out her hands over my rather horrific injury. Warm green and yellow light washed over my bandage-bound stump, tiny threads sinking in and drawing the agony away.
“You’re safe now, Cultist Ross,” she said with a kind smile.
The familiarity with which she used my title confirmed that I was in the Ring Four hospital. I honestly felt relieved at that. Being back on my home turf was a good thing. The atmosphere was familiar enough to be relaxing, even if I hadn’t ever been admitted to a hospital here before. The people here knew me. Liked me.
Much better than the coldness of other Rings that I would have had to deal with elsewhere, even if their medical service might technically have been better.
Although, not so much better that I’d have received a shiny new leg.
“You need your Aspect of Healing to be at least Jade-ranked to restore entire lost limbs,” the nurse informed me with regret. “None of us here have anything even close. None of anybody in all of Zairgon, far as I know.”
She was looking at my missing leg so sadly, I almost felt worse about her feelings than about the fact that my limb was gone.
“It’s alright,” I said. “I’m sure something will come up.”
“Well, you take your time and rest, Cultist Ross. Even heroes need recuperation.”
Hero, was it? I wondered how many people on Ring Four were aware of everything that had happened over the last few days.
As the woman talked, I learned that over a day had passed since the Blight Swarm battle had ended. Being knocked out for over twenty-four hours was highly concerning, but my feelings about it dwindled in the face of the pain in my leg clawing back after the nurse’s Aspect use ended. She was regretful about that too. Her Aspect could only provide temporary relief.
I got it under control with a bit of Sacrifice. My caretaker was highly concerned at me biting my own hand hard enough to make it bleed, even after I explained I was using my Aspect.
[ Sacrifice
You have Sacrificed 1 [Minor] Experience of Pain. Windfall bonus activated.
Reward: Pain Sense Control: Modifiable threshold of pain sense by up to 4x for 4 hours. ]
Glad as I was that my Sacrifice reward helped, I was a little bit worried that I was growing overly reliant on it. Some people got addicted to painkillers. I was huffing the fumes of Pain Sense Control.
I resolved to not do so the next time. The Sacrifice reward would be running out in a few hours, and I would not be reprising it. Not unless the pain was fatally distracting.
Everyone was busy with repairs and regaining some sense of normalcy after the last few days. There was so much that needed to be fixed. So much that required our attention. Mending the infrastructure of Ring Four was only one part of our responsibilities. There was also the very human side of things, like dealing with casualties, helping people return to their homes, and so on.
None of which I could assist with just then while I was stuck on one leg and forced to rest. The hospital staff was having none of my “self-destructive” ideas of helping while injured.
Being stuck in the hospital was what granted me the idea of trying Permanence. The problem with creating makeshift casts or prosthetics was that they were temporary. The pesky Natural Limit of Existence struck again.
So, this time, as I used Granular Control to mould a chunk of my hospital-gifted crutch into a peg-leg, I tried focusing on my newest Augmentation. I felt mana leave me in droves. Threads of icy blue magical energy travelled down my body with electric power before encasing my creation, wrapping it with strand after glowing strand.
I could only blink as the peg-leg seemed to transform somehow. The best way I could think of it was using a new graphics card. It was as if I was looking at it at a much higher definition, with more colour, details, and pure solidity beyond what normal reality offered.
So strange.
The weirdest thing, though, was the echo of Threaded Reinforcement that still remained where my real leg should have been. Despite my missing limb, the mana threads that had infused through it were still present, albeit only as ghosts.
And now, as I constructed a makeshift “leg” with Granular Control, I felt the threads turning solid. Corporeal. Sizzling with power.
The drain was significant, but that made sense. Permanence went two ways. Not only was I making my magical creation resistant to the natural decay it would normally suffer, I was also permanentizing the cost of mana.
This was going to need some experimenting. My ideas of practical use for Permanence were going to take a hit if the costs really would remain like a continuous scar.
Now I understood why more mages weren’t merchants or businessmen, using their magic to make wonders they could sell to the public. It was just impractically costly in terms of mana use.
That said, there was the silver lining that I was particularly well-placed to deal with this specific drawback. With my mana core gobbling down massive amounts of mana for me to use, and with Threaded Reinforcement greatly increasing my ability to channel more and more mana, I’d be able to use my new Augmentation economically to some benefit. Hopefully.
I practiced with Permanence for a while, though really, there wasn’t a whole lot to practice. Everything I could do with my Aspects, I could just do them in an unending fashion.
Gravity Orbs that remained by my side like Sprites I had created, packets of Flare ready to burst and stuck to their locations forever, glowing uses of Imbuement via Illumination that didn’t fade in the slightest.
All of that was cool. All of that was also expensive. Three further uses of my Aspects beyond the peg-leg with Gravity’s Granular Control had essentially turned my remaining leg rigid as if the whole thing was made of bone. The more I channelled mana through the infused threads, the stiffer they grew. Moving was going to be even more of a pain.
I considered experimenting to see just how many casts of my Aspects I could make permanent before my body refused to use any more Threaded Reinforcement thresholds. There was also the fact that I needed to consider the strange but familiar energy my newly evolved Path had brought with it. The energy that signified that I would be able to learn a new Aspect. Maybe two again.
Lying back down, I checked my Status while thinking about it.
[ Ross Moreland
Profile
Race: Human
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Weave Access: Full
Universal Language Approximator [Paragon I]
Paths
Path of Starforged Firmament: Gold I
Path of the Archon Apostle: Silver X
Core
Ignition Charge
General Attributes
Vitality: Gold III
- Mana Heal
Power: Gold IV
- Mana Injection
- Empowered Deflection
Agility: Gold II
- Reflexive Mana
Path Attributes
Spirit: Gold II
- Threaded Reinforcement
- Manifestation
Thauma: Silver I
- Permanence
Fervour: Gold II
- Enshrined Growth
Aspects
Gravity: Gold III
- Infusion
- Siphon
- Field Manipulation
- Granular Control
- Massless Interaction
Sacrifice: Gold II
- Windfall
- Emulation
- Experientiality
- Returned Offering
- Essence
Flare: Silver III
- Concentration
- Capacity
Illumination: Silver II
- Imbuement
- Reflection
- Highlight
Ritual: Silver II
- Structure
- Windfall
- Liturgize
Entropy: Iron III
- Emission
Compound Aspects
Starburst: [Flare, Illumination, Gravity]
Ignition Charges: 1 ]
It was always nice seeing evidence of my growth like that. Gold in so many spots, Silver everywhere else. New Augmentations and Affixes to consider, either now or soonish.
But any further considerations were cut short when new guests arrived.
The nurse re-entered my room after a short knock, looking extremely nervous. She wasn’t alone. A smiling Se-Targa accompanied the woman. I recognized the man. He had been part of Se-Vigilance's little party that had come along with us into the Nether Vein.
I tentatively smiled at him too, but my attention was actually on the richly dressed Scalekin woman I vaguely recognized from somewhere. There was a sensation of power about her, though it was very tightly controlled, unlike the other auras I had experienced near Councillor Lassikhio or the Paragon.
“Some, uh, guests from Ring...” The woman’s voice trembled. “From Ring One came to see you, Cultist.”
I blinked. Ring One? Oh. Now I knew where I had seen the Scalekin before. She was another Councillor.
“Greetings, Ross Moreland,” the Scalekin Councillor said, stepping forward ahead of both the Se-Targa and the nurse. “Ideally, we would be announcing what I’m about to say with a bit more fanfare as your heroic efforts deserve, but since you’ve been suffering for a while now, I believe we can discard the formalities and get on with it.”
“I’m sorry, but get on with what?” I asked. “I’ve been out cold since the Nether Vein.”
“Ah, yes. My apologies. We should have sent prior notice.” She looked at the nurse. “We thought we did, but...”
The nurse ducked her head. “I-the hospital thought it was a prank!”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Of course it would be difficult for anyone on Ring Four to believe a Councillor was going to come all the way down here. It wasn’t unprecedented. But still closer to being absurd than real.
“Be that as it may,” the Councillor said, looking at me seriously through glimmering green slit pupils. “Ross Moreland. We remember you from the trial of House Kalnislaw. You are many things to many people, but right this moment, you are a man that I can help, and that is the least I can do. There is an issue, however.”
My earlier mirth was slowly disappearing. It was a little surreal to have a Councillor being this... humble in front of me. I looked down at the bandages on my stump now soaked in blood again. “Were you going to fix my leg?”
“I was,” the Scalekin said. “But regrowing entire limbs, even with powerful Healing Aspects, isn’t a simple matter.”
“What’s the cost?”
“It’s a bit intensive. Perhaps we can sit and discuss?”
“Yes!” the nurse squeaked. “Give me a minute. I’ll make arrangements!”
A few minutes later, I was reclining against the propped-up pillows on my bed. The Councillor was perched on the edge of the chair the nurse had brought.
“The issue is the Natural Limit of Existence,” the Councillor said. She had formally introduced herself as Ghistara. “You are aware of it, yes?”
I nodded. “It’s the fact that anything created using mana tends to fade over time, usually.”
“Correct. Where this affects us is that Healing Aspects work best when boosting the body’s own ability to recover. In this way, the only thing that’s created using mana is the enhancement to the body’s natural recovery. A buff, basically. The Healing Aspect isn’t creating anything tangible out of thin air—or rather, out of mana.”
“Is that why, despite the presence of Healing Aspects, people still have scars?” I asked.
“It depends on the Healing Aspect being used. For instance, a possible Affix for the Aspect of Rejuvenation allows the caster to use time as a vector of healing, essentially reverting the body temporally to a previous state. That sort of healing wouldn’t leave any new scarring. But yes, Healing Aspects that are more commonly available do leave scars.”
The nurse hadn’t left the room. She had brought a piece of paper and a quill with ink along with the chair, and now she was furiously scribbling down everything the Councillor was saying. Ghistara didn’t seem to mind.
“In my case,” I said, wincing a little. “My body can’t recreate my missing leg. No matter how much its natural recovery is buffed up.”
“Correct. We will need to create your limb out of mana entirely. This is where the Natural Limit of Existence will unfortunately impact us.”
“Does it often pose problems for more advanced healing? Feels like a huge limitation.”
“There are bypasses, both in terms of learning certain Affixes or Augmentations, and applicative bypasses that don’t need Weave-recognition, which are basically using the Aspect in a way that achieves the desired final effect despite the limitation.” She looked at my stump. “For extreme cases such as limb-regeneration, we need a bit of both.”
“So... both an Augmentation like Permanence and some trick of the Aspect itself?”
Ghistara’s eyes widened a little. “Ah, you’re aware. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, with how accomplished you are.”
Sheesh, the way the Councillor was talking me up was starting to make me feel like Aurier.
“The cost,” Ghistara went on. “Comes in the form of time, energy, and pain. But you won’t need to participate actively in the process, so you can rest easy.”
“Um,” the nurse said, looking like she was about to start vibrating in her spot. “If you need anything, Honoured Councillor, please let us know. We’ll provide you with everything we can, for you and for Cultist Ross.”
“Thank you,” Ghistara said. “Se-Austerity, would you kindly work with the nurse and see what is available and what we can use?”
The Se-Targa, smiling and pleasant and the opposite of austere, went with the nurse.
“While they return, we will get started,” Councillor Ghistara said, getting up and coming over to my bedside. “Don’t be nervous. I am told you are no stranger to a little pain.”
I winced again. “I do have a certain, uh, safeguard against it, although I’m trying not to become dependent on it.”
She cast a curious look at me. “How does this safeguard work?”
I explained how I could Sacrifice things like pain with my Experientiality Affix. Talking about it like that again reminded what an awful mouthful it was.
“Very interesting!” Ghistara said. “But I will leave it to you to decide whether you’ll need it or not, especially since it sounds like something that shouldn’t interrupt the operation.”
Operation had me swallowing a little again. I was lucky to have never needed a surgery before, and the Councillor’s admission of the need for pain wasn’t exactly relieving me.
At least I was distracted by the sudden sensation of rapidly rising magical potency she was giving off. It felt like a warm, heavy blanket was being draped over everything, invisible threads slowly stuffing the room.
An Icon rose off the Councillor’s form. It resembled a green marionette controller, that strange cross people used to control puppets. Metallic threads came off the ends before forming into several different sharp implements. Tweezers, needles, syringes, knives, and so on. A healer’s toolbox.
Very sharp, very deadly, surgical implements. Oh boy.
“I’m not trying to look a gift horse in the mouth,” I said, which ended up confusing the Councillor because of course someone from this world wasn’t going to be familiar with an idiom from Earth. “But anyway, why are you helping me?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” she asked back.
“Because I helped a Councillor in the Nether Vein?”
“Because you saved someone dear to me. Someone I see as a beloved elder sister. Someone I would have given my leg to save too. My life if needed.” She smiled at me. “So this—all this—is really the least I can do in return.”
I didn’t have an answer to that. It humbled me a bit. When was the last time I had felt that grateful towards someone? I could list people I was thankful to know or have known, like Gutran, Aurier, Kostis, and of course, Escinca. But when had I gone out of my way to express my gratitude to them?
Maybe the fact that I had gone out of my way to not only help the cult, but also Ring Four in general, sort of, counted. I wasn’t so sure. In the face of Ghistara’s actions, I felt a bit shallow. But not in a bad way.
The door to the room opened as the Councillor’s strange Icon hovered over me. I turned, expecting to see the nurse and the Se-Targa return.
Instead, it was another Scalekin, a tall, pale one wrapped in a dark cloak.
“Excuse me,” she said. “Terribly sorry to bother at such a…” Her widening crimson eyes took in the Icon about to descend on my leg. “At such a critical time, but I’ve got something very important to tell Cultist Ross Moreland.”
The Councillor, credit to her, remained totally unbothered. “Can it not wait until after the surgery is completed?”
“Apologies, Honoured Councillor, but I wouldn’t wait if I were you.”
“Who in the world are you?” I asked. “How’d you get in here?”
“Excellent questions,” Ghistara added.
The tall Scalekin woman pulled off her hood. There was something strange about her. I had seen white-scaled Scalekin before, like Kostis, but hers was a kind of pale that was almost deathly in a way. And her eyes were far, far too red.
“My reference is Hamsik Kalnislaw,” she said.
I gawked. “Hamsik?” Then the Scalekin’s appearance started clicking. “Oh-oh shit. No way…”
Ignoring my reaction, the woman stepped forward and closed the door behind her. “And I’m here to save your life, Cultist.”