Chapter 49 - Anxiety?
Liesel observed her food with slight indifference. They were artificial constructs—an illusion woven from strands of energy, in the same vein as the condensed sustenance food they had been consuming in the wasteland. Except it was not condensed, but rather diluted to be digestible. It was mixed into a bowl of liquid, which should help with many of the invisible ailments plaguing their bodies. The strands were given the shape of a cooked fish, possibly. They might not recall what a fish was supposed to look like if this was prepared by someone experienced.
"What did she accuse you of?" Yehia asked.
It was nighttime, which meant everyone in the village was under house arrest for the next nine hours. No one was supposed to leave their tents unless necessary. The tent's fabric was enchanted with runes that seemed to create a chilly atmosphere and absorbed light to create a replica of the darkness of the night.
"I do know what her accusation is. It is immaterial, regardless. She mistakes me for people who have harmed them, perhaps," Liesel said. "It is perhaps the sins of our ancestors that tie me to her enmity. For we know nothing of their customs, we shall not question what might draw us deeper into trouble. It will be over after tomorrow night's duel."
"What if you lose?" Fiya asked. She was sitting with another bowl of purifying liquid that would soothe her Soul Veins. Yehia had finished hers already.
Liesel didn't have the appetite, so she set hers in the corner of the mattress. She'd gulp it once it was cold.
"I am not worried about losing," Liesel said with a sigh, "Only how much energy and Control I will have to shift from the faux seal. Or how many hours of my remaining life I would be required to spend for the duel."
"How many do you have?" Yehia asked.
Liesel stopped herself from answering the simple question. A trap that it was.
"It will be less tomorrow than I have today," Liesel said, "But it will be enough."
"For what?" Yehia asked, naturally.
Liesel stared into Yehia's eyes for a moment before shaking her head. Yehia seemed different now. Why? Complicated in some way. Perhaps because of the chasm between her actual abilities and the rest of the expedition team. Fiya had her secrets. Verka was basically a highblood due to his training, and the only other person she would seem similar to was Kurvam.
"You don't have much time, but you are not ill," Yehia said. "We are trapped. More lost now than five hours ago. Except for you, what else do we have to cling to? Don't you feel you should be a little honest with us? Give us a hope, Liesel. We have far exceeded our depth, and we would always have died without you. And we will even now without you."
Liesel picked up the bowl and swallowed all the contents in one gulp. Her mind eased as the bitterness shook her core.
"I think you will do just fine without me, Yehia. You have the spirit and the weight to lead. As for being lost, I will solve it, I promise. You will have a destination and a plan, if I am not going forward with the expedition."
Yehia leaned against the rather solid fabric wall. "Hah, I am not any of that. I am ill-fitted to lead anyone, to be honest. It's probably going to be Kurvam."
Liesel looked at Fiya, who hadn't said much the entire evening.
"After everything, we failed, ultimately," Fiya said. "I thought it would be enough to save you. I am sorry."
"You did more than you should have. My fate is of my own making, and you can blame me for abandoning you halfway through the journey," Liesel said. Fiya shook her head, lowering to the floor. "Relax, Fiya. I am far away from that day."
"You are the one dying. Shouldn't we be consoling you, and not the other way around?" Yehia raised her brow, grinning.
"I appreciate the consideration," Liesel nodded. "But it is a distant future that I don't have the energy to worry about today."
"C'mon, you must be concerned, even if you are putting on an indifferent front for us."
"I am not," Liesel said. "I am not indifferent, as much as I have not spent time wondering about what that reality looks like. I have a hundred other things to worry about, from the duel tomorrow to our future course of action. Distractions are the most useful tool, whether you are fighting an enemy or yourself."
Liesel decided to cut off their conversation there as Yehia seemed keen on pushing her into considering the worst reality of their situation. She wanted to spend some time in the men's tent. Yehia decided not to tag along, and Fiya was sleepy.
The caravan had healers who were doing their best to heal Charbil's hand. It seemed hard to fix, and now they were discussing a slightly more dangerous way of dealing with the damage.
His soul form had not been damaged, which was a relief. It meant they could injure his hand over and slowly rebuild it. It would take a full week of constant and careful observation and healing, but the Rakamel healers didn't seem to mind.
Liesel found that a bit perturbing. Being good-natured was one thing; being welcoming of strangers to your village was understandable, but to offer this degree of help without any consideration in return, it seemed like a page out of a children's tale.
Liesel didn't feel she had to inject her cynical viewpoint into the matter. Charbil should figure things out on his own; being too intrusive might dull her weight.
Kurvam didn't show any sign of annoyance, either because he wasn't annoyed, or he was beginning to see that he needed to hide his emotions. Perhaps, a blade on his neck, not a tangible one, but one that stripped him of his stature, was enough to teach him the manners expected of a highborn.
Liesel decided to withdraw from their tent.
She was glad that Auram hadn't made another reckless appearance yet, and Liesel preferred it if the spirit showed some restraint, at least for a little while.
Liesel was not well-read, whether it was the spirits' mythos or the connection and importance of spirits to Rakamels, to feel anything but apprehension at the thought of Auram being seen by other dwellers.
****
[Soul Withering: 19.79%
Time remaining: 162H 54M]
Rather deliberately, Liesel drew her mind to the reality of her slipping life. In actuality, it would be closer to two-thirds of what the System predicted.
Was that enough time to raise her dominion by one, assimilate the Soulweaving skill, and then figure out if it was possible to create an actual seal on the withering soul?
Or can I preserve as much of my energy as possible in tomorrow's duel? And use that time to figure something out.
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What else can I even do?
When Liesel returned to the tent, both of her companions were deep in their slumber. Liesel didn't feel it was wise to wake them up, so she settled at the edge of the tent.
She didn't feel safe enough to sleep, and she was much more rested than they were. Isa's potion had performed a miracle that should be beyond what an alchemist could prepare. It might as well be an Elixir of Life.
Liesel focused her Materiality Sense into her soul form. The Nebulous core was still untouched by the withering's effect. It was less dense than before, and the System also said it was around one hundred and forty. It should be higher, but Liesel didn't remember the exact number. It had seemed immaterial once her body started taking a toll. That may have affected her Materiality Core, or it could be the lingering Materiality inside her body that Liesel burned.
The Nebulous Core's nature was hard to understand, as it was not meant to be subjected to the duress that she had been inflicting without taking the time to reflect. Most Nebulous Core ascendants spent a cluster of months meditating and practicing their arts to reach the Condensed Core, which would be as strong as the ones extracted from the Centipedes.
There was a possibility that her Nebulous Core might fall apart under the right circumstances, and she had no idea what that might be. At least, her withering soul wasn't going to be it.
Maybe I should be a little worried, if only for the necessary urgency to act without so much caution.
But she couldn't see a reason for it. In some way, her life was devoid of a necessary future. If there were one goal that she might set for herself, it would be returning to her mother's burial site and figuring out if she were still alive, tormented by the ashening still.
Could I have asked Reaper that? Fortunately, it would be revisiting me soon.
Beyond that simple desire, Liesel couldn't really see a long-term goal for herself. Perhaps she'd like to see her peers from the academy someday, but she wouldn't want it to happen before she was stronger than them. And it felt vain in some ways. Perhaps two years ago, she'd be burning with passion at that prospect. Now, it was something she'd like to, but not necessarily seek. What was her life's goal? What would she like her future to be? Liesel didn't have an honest answer. If there was a desire, it was buried so thoroughly that she couldn't find it.
And yet, I struggle so hard to live like a tenacious worm. Her struggles were not necessarily about her desire to live itself, and far more about the idea of stopping midway through whatever the short-term goal was. Like, at this moment, it was making sure everyone in the expedition crew lived as long as possible. Was that enough to keep one living, even with a punctured Soul Form?
An undying worm... he might be wiser than I give him credit for.
Was it her natural stubbornness or a gift of Lak's indoctrination that kept her pushing forward, while being so shallow? A White Crusader didn't have much purpose in their life except for keeping marching forward, no matter the pain, the futility of their endless struggle to survive, or the countless demons they vanquished; there was no personal aspiration.
Most Crusaders knew from a young age the highest rank they would reach in their lifetime, and those assessments rarely produced an exception. In a strange sense of irony, Liesel was one of those exceptions. She was promised an entire legion, bound by their duty to protect humanity from the vicious demons. She was promised a future as a Crusader General, one of the most respected titles an Ascendant could earn, one of the strongest assets of the empire. Yet, she was nothing beyond a competent warrior whose specialty was using distractions as a crutch for her lack of speed and strength.
Perhaps, she could say she had remained true to their teachings even after failing at everything else.
I need to act now if I am to survive, instead of wasting my time reminiscing about an impossible future.
She shook her head and still decided she'd remain in the tent for the next few hours until the curfew was lifted.
She drew materiality from her core into her soul veins, which was much easier than before. She didn't feel lave flowing in her veins now. She began by utilizing Layering. Having to expend a sizable portion of her Control on her Soul Form, her speed was sluggish, worse than she had been imagining. It might have taken her over a minute just to layer a nail.Juggling two tasks at the same time might be a step too far for her abilities. Or I just need a few days to practice.
She tried channeling materiality, and another wave of worry rushed down her spine. Channeling was second nature to her, and still, it was slower, and it took a mental effort to keep her Control squeezing the punctured area.
Tomorrow... I will fail at this rate.
She couldn't help but smile at the idea. I cannot preserve any time. I'd have to spend every ounce of my strength to end the duel quickly, rather than drawing it out.
She couldn't see it ending quickly when she was facing a Rakamel, inherently superior in every physical way imaginable. Even with all her gains, she didn't imagine herself being equal to an ordinary Rakamel in physical characteristics.
A distraction of some sort maybe...
Kfahan visited her tent a moment after. Drahk had invited her to discuss today's ordeal.
Liesel followed the lady not very far from her tent. From the way she was understanding the Rakamel, they were divided into factions. The expedition team was in Drahk's camp; whether that was the best possible outcome or not remained to be seen.
She knew his second in command didn't like her, or maybe she was just a timely pawn in his scheme and nothing more. Liesel would preferably avoid being caught in their infighting. If this is the reason Drahk is accepting us as guests, then there is little we can do until everyone has recovered.
His tent stood out amongst simpler and smaller ones, dull and ordinary. Without a soul disturbing the quiet, pervasive gloominess of the caravan, this place felt like an otherworldly place, under the shadow of Sirmal's Tomb, whose light seemed to be the sun and the moon at the same time.
It was a harrowing feeling of smallness that Liesel rarely, if ever, felt. Being born in the Inceptius, the most majestic city ever built, which proclaimed itself to be grander than even the divine kingdoms of the past, it was natural to see everything as a dull place. But here, perhaps because the moon never moved and the sun never shone, the day and night ceased, she felt breath escape her lungs.
Such a raw emotion brought a worry. What kind of morbid recreation would the mind eater make of this moment? She knew if she faced it in the future, this moment would be there, for she didn't remember the last time she felt such a strange and overwhelming emotion.
She pushed it to the side as they neared the tent.
The grass surrounded the structure, and there were flowers slowly, unnaturally swaying—like a string was pulling them back and forth. If that was the case, Liesel felt she was better off not investigating. The tent was deep red, oddly like the glare of a sinking sun.
Kfahan guided her inside.
Drahk sat at a stone table, seemingly tired. He gestured for her to sit. There were a few more Rakamels, probably his trusted pupils.
One among them sat at the table, and he smiled at her as Liesel settled on the empty seat. His uniform suggested more than just a Pathstrider.
Liesel regarded him with confusion.
"I owe you an apology," Drahk said. "I should've foreseen this outcome, and I should've snuffed it before it became a farce that threatens your life. I will hold my apology in my heart, for words mean little. But I shall promise in return for this betrayal of your peace: I will do everything in my power to make your crew feel accommodated, healed, and given every help that I can."
"I was going to say you don't owe me anything," Liesel's lips curled slightly, "But if you are offering so much, I am in no position to deny my team of your generosity."
"What I can do is not enough for the tragedy I have wrought," Drahk shook his head. "It is not as simple as you think. Qihdah-shi is not merely a duel that you have to win. You will battle in sand, and there are things beneath that sand that you risk attracting, crawling beings that we know to whisper, but you would not. They will hunt you. And you are ill and weak."
"I thought you didn't want to disrespect someone who survived the desert."
"That is precisely why it is unfair to force you to duel before you even recover. For the fairest trial to become this, but there was no other way. If you deny Elder Ahura's claims, you challenge Goddess Gurvantha's wisdom. And then, as her sword Strider, even I must stand in defence of her dignity."
"As I said, I hold nothing against you. I could have been facing the centipedes when the storm rose; instead I was having a bath. There is no mistake I cannot forgive."
"You are as wise as I imagined a deserter-crosser would be," Drahk grinned. "I can push Qhidah-Shi for a few days so you can rest and regain your health."
Liesel considered. "How many days can you give me?"
"Third storm from the day of demand, Qhidah-Shi must be performed. So it will be two more days."
That's not enough time to do anything about my soul... If I imagine Dominion Jewel would mutate a demon in one day, then one day for the extraction process, and then at least one and a half days to assimilate the skill... I need four days conservatively.
"In that case, I'd rather get it over with tomorrow."
"Are you sure?" Drahk seemed surprised by her request. "Why?"
"Resting will not help me," Liesel said, "So I should deal with my trial sooner rather than later. If you could delay it by five days or more, that would be helpful. Otherwise, I shall finish it when the next storm starts."
"You don't understand, only you or your opponent will walk out alive. There are no circumstances where surrender is accepted. Gurvantha demands the blood of the sinner, Derrmak, or Rahdhi, the false executioner."
"I expected something like that. It is no concern," Liesel nodded. "I, however, am curious why spirits mean so much to you. I cannot imagine them being so meaningful for other races as to have a special term, and such aggressive determination."