Chapter 167 - 167
"In your eyes I see a heart filled with fear!"
"Good job, ladies! We have caught him in our pre-fight banter, even if his doesn't make a lot of sense. Let's keep it going."
Blythnin, the de-facto leader of the entity that is Serarnin, at least during combat, encouraged her sisters, for lack of a better word for what they are to one another. They are singular and a triumvirate, each one living her own life only to find that it was not the "real" path that they collectively took. They had long since had the required experience to become accustomed to their new reality and the power it offered.
And they found it to be oh-so utterly devastating to the fae, the creatures of stories that have come to life. Something within them breaks when another character constantly changes. This time, much like what they had been doing for months on end, they intended to exploit it to the fullest.
"Yeah, that tracks," responded Blythnin casually. "I imagine you see a lot of things that are not really there."
"Oh no! You see my heart in my eyes! Someone call for a [Healer]!" Serideth really hammed up her sarcasm as much as possible to make her snideness shine through.
"You poor, wretched creature," Relarina responded with a sincere version of fake concern. "You suffer from an addled mind. I shall bestow upon you the ultimate mercy to end your suffering." She finished with a casual and resigned flick of her new saber that really worked better as a catalyst for her magic than her previous weapons.
Dismissal, sarcasm, and pity vied to see what would be the most impactful in snubbing their fae opponent. All were received, each in their own timeline, and only one was chosen to be true, which they decided subconsciously amongst themselves by which one had the greatest impact. However, the effects of these separate timelines tended to bleed into one another, and the fae appeared to be highly susceptible to the unsettling and disjointing feeling left in the wake of three and one being true and untrue at the same time.
Their opponent's eyebrow rose for a moment before his expression hardened in disdain. But then, his face flickered as reality was violated through strange mechanisms. It would have been unsettling for most, but Serarnin had become used to such things. The face of their fae opponent changed, as did his equipment and overall figure. Predictably, he tried to recover and gain the advantage, even if his response was predictably non-sequitor.
"We're not so different, you and I," he continued with arms slightly spread as if in an inviting way, even if the sword that he brandished continued to exert a passive threat.
"Remind me who you are again," replied Relarina with a hand on her chin and an expression of contemplation. "I want to say you were a shoe shiner for some prince or something."
"The difference between us could not be more vast," Blythnin boasted with a sneer. "I am a walking calamity, and you are the filth that I tread upon as I travel to my next real challenge."
"If we were to join forces, would you have a competitive dental plan?" asked Serideth with an inflection that suggested that she considered his implied offer.
One response attacked his fame and pride, another his prowess and competency, and the third just bewildered him by nitpicking over trivial details. Somehow, it was that last remark that seemed to have the most impact, and the fae opponent flickered again, this time changing to a woman with a body made of coral married to flesh. It was a hideous form, but it aligned with how fae tended to be a mix of something in nature and a person, like a botched understanding of what an elemental should be.
"You will be forgotten on the shores of eternity as you break beneath the endless tides!" she threatened as she leveled her trident at Serideth, for she had ended up as the one imposed upon reality as real and true.
"That's it; she's an aquatic one! Attack her!"
It had taken fewer than twenty attempts to cycle out their fae opponent with their banter, which had been a refreshingly low number of attempts. They had been fishing for a fae themed around something aquatic in nature, and they now had one. They had done the same for their past six fae, and, this being the seventh, they liked their odds of locking in the story between them, such that they could lure a powerful fae themed around the same aquatic nature to one of the pseudo-dungeons situated upon the coast.
Relarina remained defensive as she approached with a probing attack, her saber easily deflected by her opponent's trident. Serideth darted in boldly, her side being treated to a much closer inspection of the trident's sharpness, all while her hand introduced the coral-covered fae to the business end of a dagger. Blythnin sent in a few clones she had prepared before the fight, and she deftly swapped places with one to land a strong blow to their opponent's flank.
Like most violent encounters, Blythnin's was the preferred outcome, as she remained the one with the most experience for direct combat and the strongest Blessing. However, while they each excelled at different areas of life, the other two did sometimes manage to outperform Blythnin at her own specialty, which kept her on her toes and delighted her in the novelty and competition.
The blow made by Blythnin, while painful, was more humiliating than critical. They wanted to physically lure the fae to the teleportation trap that had been prepared for them for the very purpose of imprisoning the fae within the pseudo-dungeon. However, they needed it to look natural, like the fight just happened to progress in that direction, all so the fae would remain none the wiser to their ploy.
Angered by the humiliation, the fae reacted by summoning forth a large wave of water that crashed down in their direction, with said water also being filled with bitey fish and pinchy crustaceans. Auspiciously, this allowed Serarnin to retreat in their preferred direction.
Most of the time, when one of them takes a certain sort of action, they must all take the same manner of action. Ergo, if one retreats, all must retreat. However, they have discovered that they both had some flexibility in how they went about that and that doing so built up some sort of energy or currency used to break that rule from time to time.
Relarina used a gush of air to push herself to safety, with the remnants of that same Ability used to scoop up rocks and debris to smash into their opponent. While it had little physical impact, it did embolden the fae. Serideth made a series of flips, twirls, and other acrobatic maneuvers that were each more impressive than the last, with her ultimate maneuver deftly placing her out of harm's way and in an elevated position to smugly look down upon her opponent. Blythnin simply traded places with a clone that was in a safe location. While it worked well enough to deliver her to safety, it did little to embolden and enrage their foe, and so it lacked the impact needed to be useful.
All things considered, Serideth had achieved the best outcome, and so, from the perspective of an observer, she was the one who had always been there, who had repositioned away from the fae, and who would predictably continue to exist and fight against the fae. Such was their power, for one remained both certain of this truth and yet uncomfortably aware of other truths from other realities where her two sisters existed.
To put it bluntly, these inconsistencies in their collective story sullied the meaning behind their opponent's existence, their very presence weakening the tale unfolding before them as they created holes within the plot. Their battle existed beyond the physical, for they attacked the identity and purpose of their opponent on a metaphysical level. This engendered a sensation of aversion and an identity crisis that would leave their opponent in a malleable state if one were to take control of the story. If only Serarnin had allies with ample experience with living out stories and who could control the story of a person.
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Fortunately for Serarnin, she had precisely that. It-Has-Pockets, along with a cohort of kobolds, were waiting on the other side of the teleportation trap. They just needed to soften their opponent up in order to make the story more suggestible to influence.
Banter was kept to an absolute minimum, and all of it thematically the same in what emotions they would target. The last thing they wanted was for their opponent to shift out to a different fae mid-fight. Slowly but surely, they lured their fae opponent to the trap, the whole of them keeping many of their fancy and powerful Abilities in reserve. There was little fear of the knowledge of their capabilities being leaked to the fae as a whole, for at most, it seemed that only the Court that a particular fae belonged to would be informed.
No, what really mattered was not accidentally killing their opponent. Ultimately, she was not the strongest they had faced, but she would suffice. And, if the dialogue was anything to go by, she belonged to the Court of Endless Tides, which their allies had already encountered via First Countess of Wealecher, Everdine Wavecrester, Fifth Seat of the Court of Endless Tides. If they could imprison her, that would strike a blow against that Court and perhaps lure out a more powerful member.
Time would tell, and, given the deity that helped them become what they are now, time was always on their side.
"It is activating, favored one."
It-Has-Pockets had been ready and waiting for this very moment. She, along with some kobolds under her command, had remained alert for the arrival of Serarnin and some fae of note via the receiving end of a teleportation trap. This was far from their debut in the realm of capturing fae, and so they all knew their roles well enough.
This particular room of the ruined keep that comprised the pseudo-dungeon was one that remained barren of any explicit decor related to the fae that would arrive. They knew it would be one of an aquatic theme, but that could be anything from a swamp to the deepest depths of the ocean and anywhere in between. Seeing that the fae in question was covered in coral, the kobolds set about their purpose to decorate the room accordingly.
It was one thing to do so normally, quite another when a fight was actively occurring at the same time, often with errant Abilities blasting about without any concern for bystanders. That's why these kobolds earned the big bucks, or at least they would if they actually got paid. Someone probably pays them, or at least they get lots of exposure.
A Blythnin clone had been hastily made to deliver a rundown on who their captive fae is. These clones, far more temporal and delicate than those made by Jericho, were still impressive and useful nonetheless. Not to mention, they cost far less mana to create and maintain, which is something that does not require external assistance in the form of a particular Emperor to persist them.
It-Has-Pockets digested the rundown that was hastily delivered by the clone before it disappeared in a puff of smoke. Blythnin had been experimenting with a good number of Abilities to create clones, and these ones had more agency than most, if not the durability.
Now fully abreast of the situation, she tapped into her Dual-Blessing of [Memories of the Flight], such that she could influence reality with her own version of events.
"She is Caraline Tidebringer, a retainer in service to Second Count of Wealecher, Joda Wavecrester, Eighth Seat of the Court of Endless Tides," It-Has-Pockets intoned as she casually danced in a way that some would consider interpretive of the story. "Her parents had been cold and harsh, demanding perfection from her. Her failures were many, but she always remained true to her attempts to earn their approval and love, even though she never reached that impossible benchmark. Her brothers and sisters were always better than her, and she desperately struggled to prove herself worthy of becoming an official retainer of her liege, much like her family had done for generations."
The fighting below changed in intensity. The fae fought with more determination and desperation, her fury a mirror into the life of pain and loneliness that had plagued her from the day of her birth. Her attacks were more fierce, but also left her more exposed and prone to exhaustion, for her attempts to compensate for her many weaknesses and failures in life only exposed the sad truth of her mediocrity.
That would not do. They wanted someone a little stronger for a "Boss" in the dungeon they were making, to use the lingo of Adventurers that made a living by exploiting the resources of dungeons.
"However, through hard work and sacrifice, she did become a retainer for her liege, one who performed adequately, if barely. She never rose to prominence, for she always lingered within the middle of the pack in terms of prowess and status. However, she did once earn a slight nod of approval from her parents, and that filled her with hope that she could some day become something more, if only she had the opportunity for a breakthrough."
The violence in the room escalated, with kobolds running helter-skelter when the conflict approached them. They diligently continued to encase the statues and iconography engraved into the walls in barnacles, coral, and driftwood, just as soon as the coast was clear to resume work. The room had been designed to be a chapel, one with a vague dedication to a god that could only be guessed at, at least to ensure that no god in particular felt slighted at a neglected and desecrated shrine to his or her glory. However, it offered a tall ceiling, a wide and relatively clear stone floor, and a dais where the Boss could be positioned.
"All that being said, Caraline Tidebringer had found herself on thin ice with her liege as of late. Even now, she fails to bring the glory of a foe defeated, the trophy taken from a felled adversary. Her liege, tired of her mediocrity, decided to personally dismiss her from service."
Just then, a far more impressive fae entered the chapel. His cape was made of crashing waves, and not just in a pattern upon cloth, but of actual water trapped in the shape of clothing. The rest of his clothing was made of kelp and the shells of many creatures, and his helmet was made of moist sand that had been packed together to make it appear to be akin to a castle.
"You have failed me for the last time, Caraline," he announced as he strode towards her. His disposition was one of complete disappointment as he continued towards her with resolute determination.
Without making a scene, Serarnin casually withdrew from the room, her purpose having been fulfilled.
"My liege, please," Caraline begged as she backpeddled towards the dais and the wall behind it. "I can defeat her; I just need more time."
"I have given you time," he stated impassively. "Your parents have served me well, and it is for their sake that I gave you a chance to prove yourself. It is a new age for the Court of Endless Tides, and I can no longer tolerate your stagnation. I find you unworthy of being my retainer any longer."
Her pleas fell on deaf ears, and, with resolute purpose tinged with disdain and irritation, he conjured forth a coral blade and plunged it through Caraline's heart, pinning her to the wall. Within seconds, her entire body became encased in calcified stone, her theme of coral being amplified as it grew over her body, trapping her against the wall.
"Wordlessly, her former liege, having found her unworthy, departed without further conflict."
So It-Has-Pockets spoke, and so it was. Second Count of Wealecher, Joda Wavecrester, Eighth Seat of the Court of Endless Tides, would be a wonderful addition to their dungeon, perhaps as a Final Boss, but now was not the time to pursue that goal. They didn't even make eye contact as he left, which just goes to show how beneath him all of this was, at least from his point of view.
"So cool!" a kobold near her declared as she looked on with dreamy eyes. "He has that bad boy energy, and he didn't even look back. What?" she continued as she observed It-Has-Pocket's disapproving glare. "Just because he is an enemy doesn't mean he isn't dreamy."
Many kobolds displayed similar levels of admiration. These were younger kobolds, and thus, lacking in experience in dealing with the fae. Soon enough, they would find the fae to be derivative and boring, each one another bucket of slop spewed out by whatever it is that makes them. Diplomatically, It-Has-Pockets allowed them to keep to their own opinions as she supervised them making final touches to the room.
When the work had finished, It-Has-Pockets and Serarnin alone remained as they stood before their imprisoned fae.
"I almost feel sorry for them," It-Has-Pockets confided in her friend and fellow companion of their Emperor. "They just are not aware of how uninspired and fake they are as they imitate life."
"I know what you mean," Blythnin replied with a hand placed on It-Has-Pocket's shoulder.
"They are a pitiful lot," Relarina stated after a few moments of gazing at the expression of surprise and despair on the still face of Caraline.
"They, like us, did not choose to exist." whispered Serideth as her mind wandered to her own troubled path through life.
In the end, the world only remembered one of their replies, but It-Has-Pockets heard all of them, for their story is loud enough that she cannot ignore it.