226. Cold Light of Day

  Serac’s first instinct was to rush over to Trav and give him a good talking to. But as soon as she hopped off Ash to take in the battle’s aftermath, she had to change her mind.

  The deerherd, perhaps not unlike the cat pair earlier, was lost to the world. He sat cross-legged in a relaxed posture, a far cry from his dark rage mere seconds ago and even from his usual rigid demeanor. He wore a faint barely-a-smile as he wrapped his arms around his deer familiars, saying all that needed saying with his silence.

  Best to give them a moment, Serac decided easily. In all honesty, I could use a moment too. It all feels so raw at the minute, but maybe we can laugh about it later. Assuming the cats are okay with it…?

  The cats in question hovered at the edge of the arena. To Serac’s crushing disappointment, they’d moved on from soothing each other with loud, gurgling purrs.

  Oriole stood rigidly in a bizarre imitation of Travertine, staring at the latter with a faint barely-a-scowl. A difficult expression to read, but at the very least, it was absent any immediate hostility. As for Caraway, she slouched half-hidden behind her ginger friend, eyes hard, one bristly hand gripping Oriole’s cape. Perhaps the enormity of what she’d risked had finally hit her in full, but the young woman stood her ground, stubborn as ever.

  What do you call that, Dr Trippy? Serac asked in her inside voice, wearing a faint barely-a-smirk of her own.

  “If you ask me, the grass isn’t always greener on the other side.”

  Serac nodded slowly, amused yet oddly touched by the concise summation. Welp. The Mriga needs a moment and the Tiryagas have already squared themselves away. Which leaves…

  “Good looking out, Princess!” Zacko yelled cheerfully as he clapped Serac in the back, hard enough to nearly send her flying. “Gotta say, things felt a bit dicey there for a sec, but I should’ve known you’d pull us through.”

  Serac’s smile faltered a touch as she turned to face Zacko. The Manusya wore his usual sardonicism, but it sat heavy and awkward like plate armor. He was ‘himself’ but not quite back to feeling it. The party had overcome two different mirrors in as many circadian cycles, and Zacko had the worst time of it on both occasions.

  “I was curious to see the effects of [Hunter’s Sight] on you, Serac.” In stark contrast, Renna was her usual mellow self, as if nothing had happened. “Or the lack thereof, I suppose I should say. Duality of being. At this point, it’s clear what exactly drives Tidereign’s challenge to its resident souls… but as was the case in the other Realms below it, the point isn’t to outright deny our flaws.”

  “But to embrace them,” Serac blurted the response before it’d even occurred to her. “To internalize. To elevate. To soar higher because of, and not despite our flaws. Yeah. Now that you put it like that, I think I get it.”

  Renna graced her with a rare smile.

  “If I’m not mistaken,” the pink frog said with the lightest of a teasing note, “you ‘put it like that’ yourself. And I agree whole-heartedly. Something I still need to look inward and wrestle with. Not just myself, but also…”

  The Yaksha trailed off to give the Manusya a sidelong glance. She then seemed to think better of finishing her thought. Zacko, for his part, pretended not to hear… which wasn’t exactly an encouraging sign.

  “Being ‘one with yourself’ is well and good, Princess,” the man now spoke with performative cheer, obviously eager to change the subject, “but what’re you gonna do about your [Avowed] enemy, eh? If I’m not mistaken about how your spell works, you’re still stuck with halved Parameters unless either you or Bonehead over there kicks the bucket. I suppose you could wait it out until midnight, but that’s under the generous assumption we don’t run into any other bullshit for the rest of the day.”

  As far as subject-changers went, it was an effective one. Because in truth, Serac herself had been wrestling with the same dilemma. As powerful (and very nearly decisive) as [Your Name]’s debut had been, it’d also put her in an awkward position. Far less awkward now that the [Avowed] friend was safe from permadeath, but that didn’t make the possible solutions any less problematic in their own right.

  She looked again at pensive Trav, loving DLEE, and love-starved ORD. It just wasn’t a conversation she was ready to have.

  “I don’t know,” she gave her most honest answer. “For now though, let’s all head back to the Hubstation. Whatever we decide, whatever bullshit we run into the rest of the day, we’d better do it fully healed and leveled up.”

  Backtracking when the Realm Immortal was literally right there didn’t feel like the most intuitive thing in the world. It was, nevertheless, in keeping with the principles of responsible Wayfaring. The Upheavers plus their Anchored guest made their way back down the obsidian steps for some much needed meditation.

  First, a confirmation of what Zacko had alluded to:

  [Health (reserved): 588/588]

  [Mana (reserved): 62/62]

  [Cartridge (reserved): 6|28]

  Serac had ‘reconciled’ but never smited Travertine. Neither did reconstitution count as a ‘death’ on her part. In order for the [Avowed] effect to wear off, either one of them had to die or the circadian cycle had to turn over, whichever came first.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  No closer to a clean solution (maybe there isn’t any), Serac chose to ignore the bad for now and focus on the good. And as soon as she switched over to leveling mode, her jaw dropped at the monstrous numbers on display.

  [Karmic Level 75 -> ]

  [Liminal Karma: 205,267 ?]

  [Requisite Karma: 45,300 ?]

  A smite-less boss fight had somehow dropped [191,065 ?] in Karmic reward. Her most profitable [Exalted Feat] yet, and it wasn’t close. On this, Trippy had two ? of his own to share.

  “I took the liberty to scan your fellow party members, Serac, and I noted an interesting quirk to this latest [Exalted Feat]. Namely that the Karmic rewards were individualized. You had the highest by some margin compared to Renate Sandvik and Zacarias Borges-Juventus, in that order. While Oriole ere’Quinlan had by far the lowest, receiving only [3,678 ?].”

  Really?? That’s such a huge difference though! Is it something similar to a smiting blow bonus, do you think?

  “No. My theory is it’s directly proportional to the Wayfarer’s Karmic Level. Or perhaps, more granularly, their Cumulative Karma. Thanks to your Karma-rich adventures in Dawnwick, you’ve got a leg up on your Upheaver friends. And just over a million ? of Cumulative Karma more than the KL-17 Tiryaga.”

  Well, when you put it like that, it does make sense. But man, someone put a lot of thought behind these [Exalted Feats], didn’t they? Someone who reckons smiting isn’t the only way to measure a Wayfarer’s worth.

  “It does seem that way. It also seems to me you have an inkling as to who this someone might be.”

  … Now you mention it, I suppose I do. Somewhere in the amorphous streams of the Interstitium, Serac felt—or at least imagined—a presence. A gazeless gaze from a faceless face. It opened its mouthless mouth to speak, but the words vanished into the churning clouds.

  Just you wait, Mr Deva, Serac told herself. I do like where your head’s at when it comes to Karma, but that doesn’t exempt you from the Upheaver’s wrath…

  With that in mind, the Upheaver put four more points into her [Integrity], bringing it to an even [30]. The next time she wrote another’s [Name] on her bullet, it was sure to hit harder than ever.

  When Serac came out of meditation, she found her party already engaged in animated discussion. She decided to keep her mouth shut a while and listen.

  “Absolutely not!” Caraway’s righteous anger bounced between the Hubstation’s lotus petals. “I let you get away once. I ain’t likely to let it happen again, innit?”

  “This place isn’t for you, Cara!” The newly KL-18 Oriole contested hotly, sounding for all the world like he was an expert on the matter. Clearly the wrong thing to say, as evidenced by the absolute daggers Caraway threw at him, but Brain Cell persisted, “If you won’t head back, then at least find somewhere safe to hide, until—”

  “Oh, somewhere safe, is it? Righto, let me just dive back into the mists, why don’t I? And if by some miracle I get past it again, I’ll feel right at home with the umber ghosts and their maze of a city! Yeah, you really thought this one through, Ori. Like you always do.”

  “I—you—”

  “Give it a rest, Brain Cell.” Zacko’s intervention was delivered with a good-natured smile, which belied the firmness behind his words. A firmness that persisted as he added, “You’re right to be worried on Calico Chick’s behalf, but you’re going about it the wrong way. If you really care about her, then own it. Whatever happens from here on out, you be the one to keep Caraway safe.”

  Zacko might yet lack a handle on himself, but his steadying effects on others around him were something to behold. Both Tiryagas clammed right up, as both blushed furiously enough to shine through their fur.

  Serac smiled at this. She was just about to add a one-liner of her own (and perhaps ruin the moment), when—

  [Avowment Target smited: TRAVERTINE aft’NANKERVIS]

  [28,000 ?]

  [Health: 1176/1176]

  [Mana: 124/124]

  [Cartridge: 6|62]

  For a second or two, Serac merely stared at the messages, too stunned to think or move.

  “Serac, I believe this means—”

  She knew what it meant. She jumped to her feet and bounded up the stairs. The others, startled and confused though they were, followed suit in short order.

  Only ghosts still roamed Ascension Promontory. There were no signs of Trav and his deer familiars anywhere. Nor of anything that might explain their absence.

  “Did he… smite himself?” Renna suggested tentatively, perhaps not least because it was something she might choose in the same position. Serac considered the possibility. While she wouldn’t rule it out, she also deemed it rather unlikely.

  Trav and his deer just looked so perfectly peaceful. For the first time since I’d met them, really. I just can’t imagine they’d then go on to… what? What would they have done?

  Almost subconsciously, she inched her way to the far end of the Promontory—the fog-free window that revealed the Keeper’s V-shaped pillars. She peered over the edge, as if she might find her answers in the unfathomable drop. She was met only by the purple mists and the thundering roar of the Sanzu waterfall.

  Serac then adjusted her gaze—up and directly at the timeless yet timeworn surface of the Keeper’s antlers. There, her questions found more tangible form.

  Did you see what happened? You must’ve. You’ve hid and watched all that your people went through for only you know how long. Well, what’s it gonna be, big guy? Time for some real changes, maybe? Have we done enough to finally get your attention?

  Whatever answers the Keeper held in its ancient chest remained there, at least for the time being. Neither the antlers nor the crusts and scars upon their surface shifted in response to one Wayfarer’s gentle prodding.

  That didn’t mean, however, that said prodding went entirely ignored.

  The fog did shift then. Swirling and writhing into something that approximated a shape. Or perhaps a silhouette. The thing stared out with its eyeless eyes, as it greeted with its voiceless voice.

  Amitabha.

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