Chương 21: Chapter Twenty: Laughter and the Grave

X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X Chapter Twenty: Laughter and the Grave X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X Ice-cold rain poured down from the heavens, hammering the city in blanketing sheets of stinging sleet. The sun had not yet even set, and the streets were already empty. Everyone with any sense had long since taken shelter. The crystal lamps that lined the streets, normally warm and inviting, had been swallowed up by the foggy gloom.

Only pinpricks of light fading far into the distance remained, like lighthouses in a hurricane. Apparently, fall is Orario's rainy season. And no one bothered to tell me. I stomped my way home from Hephaestus's place, fur plastered flat to my skin and madder than a wet hen. Every step was accompanied by a gross sloshing sound as I waded through ankle-high puddles of freezing water. I'm a warm-weather creature, for Yeenoghu's sake! I'm not made for this cold shit.

A full body shiver ran up my spine, from the very tip of my tail to the end of my nose, as the rain leached every last drop of warmth from me. With a rumble, I pushed onwards into the Black District, eager to get home and curl up with a nice fire. Maybe even have some of that mulled wine that Mia conned me into buying. Mmm, warmth. After what felt like a full-blown odyssey, hero's journey and all, I staggered around the corner and squished my way up the steps to my store.

Grabbing the door handle, I tried to force my way in, only to bounce right off. Right, Hestia's shift ended a good couple of hours ago. She would have locked up and gone home already. She was probably all warm and cozy in that basement of hers. A low, jealous grumble filled the rain-spattered air as I fished around in my pockets for the key. Thankfully, my natural night vision made pulling the correct one from the ring easy, and I let myself into the darkened building without more hassle.

Stopping in the entryway, I furtively glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was watching. Seeing that the coast was clear, I shamelessly dropped down onto all fours and let Max's instincts take over. The walls and floors were drenched as I vigorously shook myself dry–sending water droplets flying everywhere. Standing up with a relieved smile, I allowed myself another small shake, luxuriating in the feel of my now very fluffy coat.

With a final flick of my tail, sending a fat glob of rain soaring, I started towards the counter–before stopping suddenly. Something wasn't right here. That something was immediately obvious; Snarf hadn't shown up to investigate who had just come in. He was programmed to scope out any disturbances on-site, so the fact that there was no sign of him… I stifled the snarl in my belly as a creeping dread slithered down my back.

With a soft click, I flipped off the strap of Boom Stick's holster and laid a paw over its wooden grip. The thunder of rain lashing against the window beat a staccato rhythm in time with my own fluttering heart as I slowly drew the shotgun up into a high-ready. Dual mechanical thunks rang out as I pulled back on both hammers, eyes darting between the shadowy corners of the room. When I was sure the front was clear, I crept softly on the pads of my paws towards the door to my workshop.

The slightly ajar door to my workshop. Hestia would have never left it unlocked like that. With a steadying breath, I eased it open with the tips of my claws, Boom Stick's muzzle following half a step behind. Inch by agonizing inch, more of my workshop was revealed. What would have been impenetrable darkness to a human's eyes was as clear as twilight to my own. Though the shadows cast by my machines were nigh impenetrable, turning the room into a nightmare of twisting shapes and writhing darkness.

And in the middle of the room was Snarf, glowing blue eyes piercing the darkness. He was bunched up on himself, as if seconds away from pouncing. The machine intelligence was uncharacteristically silent, not even growling as he glared at… At… Oh, fuck me! - What I had written off as just a shadow pooling on the ground revealed itself as a cloaked figure, rising up from where it had been hunched over with its back towards me. Rising taller and taller until it towered over even me.

The monster turned, slowly, ever so slowly– And received a faceful of buckshot for its troubles.

"Die, you Dementor ass bitch!" I screamed over the thunder of Boom Stick's hateful roar. Gunfire filled the room–all but deafening me as I flipped the shotgun down and broke the action open with a flick of my wrist. Burnt propellant stung my nose, and smoke filled my vision as I crammed two more wads into the breach, desperately trying to find my prey through the haze. Snapping the gun closed, I pounced through the smoke, a battle cry growing deep in my throat!

- Only to die a horrible death when the spooky fuck wasn't there. The only thing I found was Snarf, desperately swinging his head around, searching for the bastard.

"Back to back!" I ordered him, who dutifully bounded over and wrapped himself protectively around my legs. We slowly spun in a circle, panning my gun across the room. Snarf mirrored every step, eyes blazing in rage. I turned three full times before finally allowing the muzzle to dip towards the floor. The intruder was still nowhere to be found. Not even a scrap of cloth had been left where it stood. The soot filling the air had finally begun to dissipate. The echoing report fading to a dull throb in my ears.

Who, or whatever that was, was probably long gon-"Please forgive my intrusion." Yeenoghu damn it! I whirled around at the strangely tinny, echoing voice to find the thing stepping out of the shadows, arms folded neatly behind its back. Liquid darkness flowed off the creature like oil, dripping down its cloak and pooling around its feet. I trained Boom Stick center mass on the fucker as Snarf ducked low, growling deep, like the world's meanest theremin.

Smoke curled through the air in lazy eddies, casting the dim beams of light from the crystal lamps outside in sharp relief as it swirled between us. All of us stood still, Snarf and I frozen in tense anticipation. The stranger, in contrast, was at perfect ease, if anything. It remained completely open, with its arms still firmly behind its back.

The only thing that stayed my trigger finger was the fact that it was completely unharmed, without so much as a tear in its cloak after eating a sawed-off punt-gun point-blank. As the ringing in my ears lessened, something terribly, terribly wrong grew increasingly clearer. Whatever this thing was, it had no heartbeat. I furtively sniffed the air to be sure, and even beneath the stench of gunpowder, it was obvious that it had no true scent, either. No, that wasn't quite true.

While the thing had no scent of its own, it reeked with the stench of death. Which meant one thing, and one thing only.

"Undead fuck," I growled in tandem with Snarf.

"How dare you invade my workshop, my home. Stand still, so my friend here put an end to your suffering, after he's finished tearing you limb from limb." The monster reared back, its surprise obvious even under the cloak.

"You could tell?" It paused, its head tilting slightly to the side.

"Oh, of course, a being such as yourself would be able to easily discern my condition." It took a step further into the room, causing us to tense further. It halted, a haunting, self-deprecating laugh echoed out.

"I see you do not recognize me, Mister Maddic." I stared at him incomprehensibly for a second before it suddenly clicked.

"You were there when I met Ganesha for the first time!"

"Indeed." It nodded.

"Well, to refresh your memory, allow me to introduce myself once more." It folded an unnaturally long arm across its body, bowing at the waist in a way that was distinctly too smooth to be natural.

"My name is Fels, confidant and aide-de-camp of Lord Ouranos. It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I was hoping to speak to you sooner, but you are a singularly difficult man to get in contact with… discretely." The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"So you broke into my house," I groused, lowering my gun slightly, but not yet holstering it.

"Again, please forgive me," It bowed again, deeper this time.

"But as I was waiting on your return, I happened to see your friend there through the window, and I just had to take a closer look at your marvelous creation." It nodded to Snarf, who let loose a threatening arc of crackling lightning sparking between his fangs.

"Never in all my years had I seen a construct so magnificently crafted, magical or otherwise."

"Oh, so you were just spying on my creations. I don't know about Orario, but where I'm from, industrial espionage is a crime." I glowered up at the undead, who at least had the decency to look away sheepishly.

"As is necromancy, monster."

"Ah, truthfully, it is a crime here as well." The creature waved away my words.

"I let my interest in the subject of golem creation get the better of me. And 'Snarf', as I believed you called it, is far superior, mechanically speaking, to even some Legendary works that I could care to name. As to your other concerns, I assure you that my current… condition has nothing to do with such ghastly practices, no." The creature shook its head, reaching up and dropping its hood to reveal a bleached skull leering a rictus grin. I looked as hard as I dared, searching for any of the hallmarks of lichdom…

but found none in its countenance. No poisonous-green flames of necromancy in its eyes, no hints of corruption from a higher plane, and none of the tell-tale signs of possession.

"I'm afraid that this is the result of my own hubris; A fool who reached too far, too fast, without ever considering the consequences of my own folly." It said, a hint of self-loathing rising up from within its strange voice. I considered the creature's empty, blank eyeholes before allowing my gun to dip further.

"Say that I believe you, that doesn't excuse you breaking and entering. Why shouldn't I drag your living corpse to Ganesha, let him sort you out?" Fels' face remained impassive, but I could detect a slight bit of amusement in its voice as it let its arms fall by its side.

"I would actually enjoy that. Lord Ganesha is a good friend of mine, and I so rarely get the opportunity to speak with him these days." Damn. I spat to the side, which I immediately regretted because I just logged a fat loogie on my own floor.

"So you're a well-connected skeleton, big whoop. Snarf here would still be more than happy to gnaw on your bones, and I'd bury what's left of ya' deep."

"Please, Mister Maddic," Fels raised his hands in a placating manner, causing the sleeves of his robes to slip down, revealing the skeletal appendages for what they were.

"I believe we got off on the wrong foot. I let my curiosity get the best of me and far overstepped. I have very important matters to discuss with you. So if you could put away your weapon, we could sit and talk like civilized beings." A long moment of silence stretched between us as I weighed my options, chewing on whether or not to just sic Snarf on him, until I suddenly had an idea.

"Stand still, do not move." Fels did as I asked, not moving a non-existent muscle as I sidled a bit closer. Wrangling a chunk of mana from my belly, I twisted it into the shape I needed, and with a flick of my wrist snapped a Detect Magic spell into existence. Instantly, the world was dyed a technicolored dreamscape, as all the magic permeating the air became visible to me. The machines around the room blazed a deep crimson with the fiery aura of Evocation–of applied energy and raw power.

Golden-orange whips of Transmutation snaked through the air, twirling in and around my workshop, curling protectively around the mightiest of my tools. Other hues flitted about, whips left over grander magic, the hot-pink of Enchantment being the heaviest, but my focus was on the Fels. And if my workshop was a technicolored dreamscape, then Fels was cast in a veritable rave of lights.

Every color of the schools of magic could be found clinging to his being, with the strongest and most vivid being the aquamarine of Abjuration–the remains of whatever shield spell it had just used to block my shot. Or should I say the second most vivid color, as the truly radiant shade of magic was the trace of holy, silvery light that infused his entire being. The thread of pure Divinity weaved its way around his bones, consolidating into a beautiful tapestry carved into where their back was in life.

But, out of all the colors clinging to the creature's enchanted bones, there was no necrotic rot–none of the sickly green of foul Necromancy. Neither were there any traces of demonic corruption or stolen divinity. With a sigh, I let the spell fade. The acid-trip-esque, seizure-inducing lightshow faded, bleeding back into the mundane grays and blacks of my workshop. I holstered Boom Stick and turned on my heels, beckoning it to follow with a toss of my head.

X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X I admit, when I first set out to design my fancy 'client meeting room', I went into it with the stated goal of making the most 'supervillain' esque lair that I possibly could. Like something straight out of James Bond, I sat perched in the largest, most over-the-top plush velvet wingbacked chair I could find. My elbows rested on an equally expensive mahogany monstrosity of a desk.

My paws were artfully steepled below my chin, and I hoped my eyes were dancing with fire from the nearby fireplace. The walls were a rich brown, paneled in the finest oak Valis could buy, and the carpet beneath my paws was uncomfortably stiff, but luxurious all the same. I was still in the market for a big and fat fluffy white cat, preferably one that goes 'mrrrow', but Snarf would have to do for now.

Reaching down, I gave the machine a slow stroke of his shiny metal head as I glared down at the non-undead who dared to invade my home, my den. Fels was sitting perfectly straight in the far less comfortable chair meant for clients, back straight and attentive, waiting for me to have the first word.

"Why should I listen to a word you have to say?"

"Because," It reached into its cloak and withdrew a crisp envelope. Placing it on the desk, they slid the letter over with both hands in a way that seemed distinctly formal, like how a Japanese salaryman hands out business cards.

"I am here in my official capacity as an emissary for Lord Ouranos. He, and by extension the Guild at large, would like to open formal relations with you in your capacity as a Magical Item Crafter."

"You could have just walked through the door and bought something, ya' know?" I said, raising an eyebrow.

"No need for all the cloak and dagger, snooping around shit."

"Not for these matters, I'm afraid. Please read the letter, it was penned by my lord himself, and will reveal all." Slicing the letter open with a claw, I gave him one last flat look over the rim of the page before I began to read. And what it said was… telling. X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X"So you want me to stop being an artificer?" I growled out between clenched teeth. Fels quickly shook its head.

"No, of course not, Mister Maddic. Neither I nor Lord Ouranos would ever dare stand in the way of a talented crafter from pursuing their passion. We only wish to impress upon you the seriousness of the situation; if Monster Stone harvesting ever slowed down, the results would be disastrous. The Guild is only concerned about your technology potentially being too advanced, paradigm-shifting, even.

We only wish that you were more cognizant of the situation, and possibly more discriminating on how you employ your skills." I guess in the loosest sense of the word, I understood a bit from where they were coming from. The letter in no uncertain terms laid out the current status quo in the war between Genkai and the Dungeon. About how the Dungeon was constantly amassing vast power, and that the only thing currently acting as a pressure relief valve was the Adventurer and Monster Stone extraction business.

Without magical power constantly being siphoned away by enterprising Adventurers, the Dungeon would be able to pop the magical seal placed on its entrance like a pressure cooker exploding. Then everyone would be in deep shit.

"Have you ever considered that longer-lasting Monster Crystals would not destroy the current market, but just expand it into new ones?" I asked, tilting my head to better catch the warmth from the fire.

"As it stands, magitek is a rich man's world. Outside of Orario, only the ultra-wealthy can afford to make use of them. But if people were paying a lot less per mana-watt-hour… then a whole lotta' folks could jump in on the action." It was hard, impossible really, to get a read on them, but thankfully, Fels seemed pretty emotive with their hands. They raised a skeletal hand to their chin, rubbing it thoughtfully.

"I… I never considered that. You'd be right to say that the less fortunate would be able to afford to utilize magitek if they could justify the costs to keep them fueled."

"Think about it." I grinned, leaning in.

"Merchant ships with freezers in their bellies, shipping food further than they ever could before. The magical might and splendor of countries like Altena spread far and wide, where even the lowliest of peasants live in luxury, all thanks to the tools inspired by a magical revolution." It was silent for a long moment, its empty eyes boring holes into the desk between us. It finally looked up with a nod to itself.

"You have given me much to think about, Mister Maddic. Truthfully, I never considered the problem from that angle. We would need to conduct some research on the matter, but I believe you might be on to something. However, in the interim, would you still be willing to, if not outright stop sharing this Crystal life-extending technology, at least be more careful on who you spread it to?" I shook my head.

"I'm already contracted to the Hephaestus familia, and I fully intend to finish what I promised to do. A lot of the machines I'm building would be downright impossible to use without mana-condensers. But, I suppose in the spirit of cooperation with the Guild, I'd be willing to put a pause on taking any further similar contracts. I fully intend to keep running my storefront as usual, however." Fels nodded immediately.

"Of course, that is more than reasonable. We would never wish for you to interrupt your own business. The Guild has no issues whatsoever with your more traditionally enchanted weapons. And I must say, I had the pleasure of examining one of your previous works." Up to this point, Fels had seemed fairly subdued, exactingly professional… besides the whole breaking and entering thing. Now, though, they were acting as animated as a skeleton could be.

"The sword you worked on for Missus Swall, now that was truly inspired! A master class in efficient, but effective simplicity! I was having trouble translating your array work, and much of your mana-guiding syntax seemed redundant to me, but it was so clearly purposeful that it could not be a mistake. Would you mind explaining your work? I've never seen enchantments quite like yours."

"Oh! I always install redundant pathways for mana-channels in my works." I said, feeling myself be drawn into the first real conversation I've had in this city with a fellow artificer.

"It's better to have backups in case the main line is damaged."

"But how do you manage the mana resonance without the pathways interfering with one another? Would they not bleed over, and lose much of their power?"

"That's why I have them in parallel, divided into sections by steel resistors. So if one section is destroyed by, say, enemy action, then the mana can simply be rerouted around the damage, while still remaining fully functional. It's not actually several channels, just one huge one with lots of different paths available to it."

"I see, I see," They nodded to themselves.

"But how do you manage-" X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X We ended up talking long into the night, each happy to have found a kindred spirit. X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X