Misadventures Incorporated

Chapter 38 - Edge of the Abyss

“This should be far enough.”

Sylvia muttered under her breath as she came to a stop a few hundred meters away from the burrow. Looking over her shoulder, the fox activated a certain administrative skill and warped to Darkwood Hollow.

Only a scant few hours had passed since the pair had departed, but the battleground had already been restored to its usual state. Every damaged tree was healed, every displaced mushroom was put back where it belonged, and every water-filled burrow was drained. Not even the corpses remained. All hundred ravens had been erased.

“Well done, Sylvia.” A musky feminine voice called to her. “You did an excellent job of keeping her strung along. I almost couldn’t believe that it was your first time.”

She was approached by an orb of light roughly the size of her head. Within it was a green-eyed woman that stood at just over a dozen centimeters. Her hair was tied into a neat bun that featured a pair of fox-like ears, while her rear sported a trio of big fluffy tails. All three of them hung behind her, lifelessly, like a set of accessories. They remained completely unmoving, even as the tiny wingless fairy floated through the air.

“Thanks Mom. I tried really hard,” said Sylvia. “I’m still not really sure how I feel about all this proctor stuff, but I guess it isn’t really as bad as I thought it’d be.”

A soft orange glow wrapped itself around the fox’s body as she spoke. The light was accompanied by a drastic change in her form. Her frame shrank to a fraction of its previous size while most of her fur vanished outright, replaced by either hair or skin. Unlike her mother, whose locks were a fiery red, hers were much lighter, closer to blonde than ginger. Likewise, her eyes also differed. They shone a shade of amber reminiscent of a honeycomb’s prize.

“What happened to everyone else? Are they all still hiding?” Sylvia raised her voice. “Claire, erm, the torch is already gone, so you can all come out now!”

“Not quite,” said the redhead, with a soft smile.

Two distinct groups emerged from the forest as the sprite waved her hand. One, a herd of fairies, floated down from the canopy, while the other, a skulk of foxes, came from the earth. Many of them were already talking amongst themselves, either whispering or speaking directly into each other’s minds.

“We were giving the two of you a moment, cub,” said Grant, as he broke through the crowd. “I know you don’t appreciate the peace and quiet, but your mother does.”

“We were watching you the whole time. Almost couldn’t believe how badly you were stringing her along. That weird snake lady didn’t suspect a thing,” said a particularly muscular fairy.

“I can’t believe both of you tried to meow! You’ve been spending way too much time with your head in the books lately,” said a two tailed fox.

“I can’t say much in Grant’s defence, but she didn’t have a choice,” said the fattest fox present, “we all know that everyone that has to proctor a trial’ll get pulled straight into Alfred’s chamber for a whole damn week. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he wants to try something with the ladies.”

“We’ve been over this, Burr,” said Grant. “There’s no need to worry, you can trust him with even our young ones. It is true that he holds age as no object, but his interests do not extend to our species.”

“I said, ‘if I didn’t know better,’ old man,” scoffed Burr.

“Enough about all that. Where’s the fish? I’m starving, and I don’t think I’ve had any fish in ages!” said Sylvia.

“You’ve only been gone for two turns, sweetie, and you had some before you left,” said her mother, with a sigh. “And here I thought my little girl was finally growing up.”

“Give the cub a break, Dixie,” said Grant, with a snort. “She’s on the job, and she needs to be quick about sorting out her needs so she can proctor that ungrateful serpent’s third trial. We might as well feed her so she can jump right back into it.”

“Oh, about that. I don’t actually have to do anything for a whole turn and a half. Claire said that she isn’t planning on setting out until tomorrow morning, so I’ve actually got a bunch of free time, and I’m going to spend all of it getting fished up!”

“You should stay nearby, at least,” scolded Dixie. “You’re not supposed to shirk your duties. If you wanted to eat fish, then you should’ve convinced her to accompany you.”

“But Mom! All you ever do is shirk your duties!”

“She got you there, Dixie,” chuckled Burr. “And you have to admit, throwing the torch at the steelwings was a pretty good idea. They were due for a bit of a cull.”

“Nonsense,” grumbled Grant. “It was terrible and you know it.”

Ignoring the older fox, the portly gentleman that was Burr continued. “Using Grant to make your story more believable was smart too. Much better than anything Dixie’s ever come up with.”

“It certainly was, and I’m proud of her for it,” admitted the redhead. “But I’d still rather she not make my mistakes.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” said Burr. “It’s much more difficult to get attached to an impulsive barbarian than it is a gentleman with a… peculiar set of interests.”

Though Sylvia knew the description to be accurate, she couldn’t help but feel a little bit annoyed. There was no denying that Claire was somewhat of a barbarian, but the fox had felt an affinity for her nonetheless.

“Anyway, let’s stop talking about the trial. I’ve been talking all day already, so I’m going to get some fish. I’ll catch back up with everyone in a bit!”

Sylvia dashed out of the settlement at top speed, arriving at the lakeside in less than a minute. She looked over her shoulder upon her arrival and addressed the invisible anomaly that had been following her all day.

“Hey, Alfred? I have a really dumb question that I know you’re not going to like.”

“Ask away, child.”

One of the ancient mage’s projections materialized next to her. It looked exactly like him, only partially translucent and coloured in shades of sepia.

“Can I really? You promise you won’t get mad at me?”

“Of course.” The human adjusted his hat as he walked his projection onto the water’s surface and turned around. “While you certainly aren't a catgirl, you are still one of my creations,” he said, slowly. “And given that you’re seeing your people’s duty through, you’re free to speak your mind and ask whatever you’d like.”

“Okay, then here goes…” Sylvia took a deep breath. “Do we really have to do all this silly proctor stuff? It isn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be, but I still hate it.”

Alfred pulled his hat down over his eyes. “This again? Maybe it runs in the family…” he muttered, under his breath.

“Maybe it does,” the fairy giggled as she turned back into a four-legged forest dweller. “But I really don’t understand. It all just seems pointless. I know why you’re pretending, but why do I have to pretend too? Or be a part of it at all? You’re way better at lying and I think I already messed up a bunch.”

“Removing you from the equation would take the fun out of it,” he scoffed. “Just think of the whole ordeal as another one of your pranks or tricks.”

“It’s not really the same.” She flopped onto her belly, her ears bent forward and her tail drooping behind her.

“You may not understand, but my methods are effective. You’re free to take the reins and do with them as you will, but do be aware that I know full well what I’m doing. If you follow my lead, you will achieve our goals.”

“I…I’ll have to think about it,” said Sylvia.

“Do that.”

With a nod, the human faded away, leaving only the fox, her thoughts, and a serene lake.

__

Opening her eyes, Claire found herself in the midst of a sea of white. Beneath her feet were countless clouds, extending like a field for as far as the eye could see. It was a scene that reminded her of all the times she had looked down from the manor on days with overcast skies. On some days, the clouds would remain underfoot. But on others, they would rise far above the Augustus’ mansion. The maids often complained about the supposed poor weather, but the blueblood had never minded it. The lack of sunlight made it so she wanted to spend the occasion sleeping in and lazing about, but that too was something she enjoyed. Of course, her father had quite the number of complaints, but she had always disregarded them. She saw no reason to fight the urges wrought by her blood.

The smile on Claire’s face lasted for only an instant. A second look at the vista left her feeling more dismayed than lethargic. Because frolicking within the chalky ocean was a clowder of catgirls. A hundred and one of them. She didn’t know why she knew exactly how many there were. She just did. And it plagued her.

As the epitome of brilliance, however, the halfbreed was quick to contrive a solution. Raising her head, she looked beyond the heavenly garden and at the ball of fire suspended up above. Blindness would be the cure to all her problems. Or so she thought. No matter how long she stared or how little she blinked, the halfbreed’s retinas remained sinfully intact. She couldn’t get the catgirls out of her mind. It didn’t matter how hard she tried to look away. They remained in her peripherals, slowly eating away at her sanity. Not even closing her eyes provided much of a solution. She could still hear their giggles, meows, and growls in vivid, vivid, detail.

“How… obscene. Is this meant to be your idea of the divine realm, Claire?”

A voice broke her from her frustrated trance. It was soft but critical, equal parts tired and disapproving. And even though her ears were preoccupied tracking the hundred and one beastfolk, it had rang clear. Just like the bell, it echoed straight into her mind.

Unsealing her sense of sight, she looked around for the woman that was its source, eventually spotting her upon a grand throne far off in the distance.

Until she blinked.

When the halfbreed opened her eyes again, the divine seat had vanished from its position on the horizon. Now, it was right in front of her, situated on an elevated platform less than five meters away. The pure white stone that it was made of glowed brightly at first, but soon faded to reveal in detail the being atop it, a young woman in her twenties at most. Floating just above her curly hair was a raven-black crown in the form of a laurel wreath. It was one of only two pieces of clothing she wore, the other a dark dress, made of a ghostly thin fabric, and lined with a dull blue glow. So loose was the fit that Claire almost couldn’t believe it wasn’t falling off her slender frame.

Her hair was of a peculiar colour. It was a set of dark blues and purples, with the occasional speck of white laid within, almost like a cloudless night sky. Her eyes were the same, dark and brilliant as a distant nebula.

“I can hear you? And I can talk too… What’s going on?”

Claire looked down at herself, only then realizing that her body was much more solid than it had been during most of her other dreams. She still felt weightless, but she wasn’t translucent, nor did she lack a sense of touch.

“I have summoned you to address an insult.”

“What are you talking about?”

“One of your statements has left me with a sense of discontent. Why is it that you are so irreverent, mortal?”

“Huh?” Claire blinked several times as she racked her brain, but she couldn’t come up with anything meaningful.

Seeing the blank expression led the crowned woman to slowly shake her head. “Do you not recognize me?”

“Nope.”

Sighing, the raven-haired being stood up from her throne and opened her arms wide.

“Behold, mortal. You are in the presence of the goddess of the eternal flow, the guardian deity that has watched over your soul for all of its iterations.”

“So you’re the box?” asked Claire, as she crossed her arms.

“You are correct. For once.” The deity narrowed her gaze. “Now I believe that I am owed an apology.”

“Is this about how I called you uncultured?”

“Correct again. It is rather unusual for you to make two astute observations in a row.”

“Wait, if you’re my guardian deity, then you’re the one in charge of my logs… Why are you worried about insults? You’re insulting me all the time,” muttered the halfbreed. “And I call you stupid all the time too.”

“I had every intention of encouraging you to recall each of those instances and apologizing for them as well, preferably with your apologies expressed in terms of offerings.”

“Well that’s too bad,” said Claire. “I’m not apologizing.”

“And why not?” Contrary to the halfbreed’s expectations, the divine being’s face softened, expressing pity over anger.

“I don’t care what you think. You’ve never done anything for me. I should be resenting you for not providing me with any oracles or forewarnings, not worshipping you.”

“That is because you swore yourself to Builledracht during your childhood. Are you not aware of the idiocy that such a choice entails? You would have left the realm of my control had he not owed me a favour.”

“I don’t see how that matters.”

“Your lack of intellect is once again preventing us from holding a productive discussion.” The goddess smiled. Gently. Lovingly. “I suppose I will have to try a different method instead.”

She walked forward and descended the steps that separated them. With the distance closed, she slowly extended a hand and placed two fingers atop Claire’s head. The halfbreed had tried to recoil away from it, but was unable to move. Her body was completely bound in place.

Log Entry 858
You have received a minor blessing from the goddess of the eternal flow. Your log has been upgraded.

“I will excuse you for swearing to Builledracht, but a second similar mistake will not be forgiven. Swear only to me, Claire. And remember, remember that you are not destined to walk the simple, straightforward path taken by the chosen. You are not like the ones the bards sing of. You will face hardship. You will face disparity. And you will struggle. But even so, you are mine, of your own volition. And you must ascend.”

The next time Claire blinked, she found herself back in the burrow, atop a small pile of clothes. Her mind was wide awake and the goddess’ warm touch still lingered. But the rogue was focused neither on the out of place sensation nor on the abnormal extent of her alertness. She was too preoccupied with a certain important question to consider anything beyond it.

“Which goddess was supposed to be in charge of the eternal flow again?”