Book 7. Chapter 3: Communicating with eldritch entities
“Can you generate an avatar of yourself via my HUD?” I asked. “Hypothetically.”
Cathida cackled over the comms, “Hypothetically? Why yes, Journey could. And why would you ask for something like that deary? Do you know just how much more insulting I could get with hands and fingers to use?”
We’d been running for about an hour now in the proper direction for the Icon. As I’d asked before how long it would take, the timer said nine hours of leisurely jogging before we’re out of the infected territory, or five hours of a mad no-holds-barred full out sprint. Except that would eat up a lot of Journey’s power.
“I am aware of what I’m asking for and the sacrifices it’ll demand of me.” I said, in my most stoic voice possible. “But if I am to glare at you properly, I need a target. And I really need to glare at you right now for what you last said.”
“As you command, m’lord.” Cathida said, the devil shaking my hand with a bargain complete.
Since I still needed Journey’s power after we left the infestation’s home turf, given it has minions out there beyond the range of it’s airborne spores, I needed to be able to fend those off. And while running around for eight hours, one tends to get bored. Which means chatting with Cathida and swapping insults to pass the time.
One thing led to another, and I’m once more making questionable decisions.
“No take-back-sies deary.” She said, and appeared at my side.
I’d expected something mundane, like she popped into existence without fanfare. But no, this was Cathida, and so she descended down from the heavens with golden wings and landed far ahead of me into one dramatic landing. On hand nearly behind her back while the other was holding her stabilized on the ground between her feet.