Chapter Text
A ‘phew’ came from Tristan, hands proudly on his hips, “Much easier with a friend!” Tristan exclaimed.
Another one of those wooden-club wielding zombies definitely didn’t send fear into Tristan’s heart for a moment; he had to remind himself that Yin was beside him now. He ran circles around the bigger and slower foe while Yin and their apparently unbreakable fragile nail jumped in and proved how abnormally strong they are for their size once more. Right now, they were staring at said club, watching it roll out of the guard’s hand once it died.
Tristan sucked in air while stretching his limbs, he looked behind himself as he stretched his shoulders over his chest, he let his arms drop and switched sides, eyeing Yin rub the hilt of the club with intrigue, “What are you doing?”
The tiny knight paused, briefly glancing at Tristan for a moment; it almost looked mischievous with its porcelain head. Turning back to the club, they pick it up with both hands with a little effort. Fully turning towards Tristan, they proceed to plunge the club within themselves. It took a lot of pulling, and a couple of short pauses between; they’ve never stored something this large all at once, but they managed to do it– they looked proud of themselves for the feat.
Yin keeled over at Tristan’s obvious mixed emotions of confusion, amazement, and surprise.
Tristan is fully facing them now, his arms had dropped, “I dunno what to think right now.”
Yin had calmed down, mostly, patting Tristan’s shoulder as they walked past. Laughter lingered in them as their shoulders twitched occasionally.
Tristan sighed, just deciding to follow them silently.
From the doorway of the next room, they were able to see the gate closed off in front of them. They looked around until they spotted a way; it was above them, so they ascended upwards. They were greeted with a large open space, with a corpses wandering around. Both of them could feel the tense atmosphere in the area the second they stepped foot in it.
“You all healed up?” Tristan whispered to his friend.
They nod, drawing their nail as they jog up to the corpses, ready to slice their heads off.
Tristan stepped in just in time, just as Yin slayed the final corpse, the gates closed with the iconic shink. A massive, hulking figure in strong looking armor had dropped down from the ceiling, wielding a massive mace in its hands.
“Oh…” Tristan says. It turned to his voice, its empty eyes, similar to Yin’s bore into him.
And it jumped high in the air.
“Oh nonononono,” Tristan panicked through his teeth, running under the massive knight-like figure’s leap, it slammed the mace right where he was at a moment ago, shaking the area around them. “Holy–”
Yin sprinted over, slashing at the armor with their nail, impressive enough, they managed to chip at the armor, though that seemed to do nothing else. They clench their fist at the response, backing away in time to avoid a mace mashing them into black paste; though they didn’t expect the mace to create a shockwave barreling towards them. They reacted too late to jump over it, and it rolled through them.
Trisan dove to the side, rolling to his feet, watching it whoosh right past him. The wave of energy dissipates, now seeing that Yin got flung halfway across the room. Turning back to the mass of metal, it watched him run at it, preemptively bringing its mace to its side and swings, dragging the heavy ball across the ground, kicking up clouds of dust and rocks.
He jumped out of the dust, dragging some of the smoke with him for a moment with how fast he leaped out it, and latched on to the helmet. “Heey, what’cha doing in there?” He asked in a sing-song tone, peeking within the eyeholes to see what was inside. Now that he was all up close and personal, he could hear the frantic gibberish and yelling from the inside- it sounded like messed up warcries.
The figure scrambles to get Tristan off its face, stumbling around idiotically while Tristan is giggling like a maniac, “Try to get me off! C’mon, you’re sooooo close!” He snickered, teasing the corpse in the armor while Yin chips at its armor.
That, predictably, got it angry. It bumps its back into a wall, the bumbling figure, realizing that it hit a wall, swiftly turned to the rocky wall, reeling its head back.
Tristan realized what it was going to do, and hopped off its helmet, letting it smash its own head into the wall. “Who are you trying to hit?” He asked rhetorically. The armor rang harshly, even out here, who knows how loud it is from the inside, seeing as it’s teetering on one foot around after it smashed into the rock.
Yin’s nail was still just scratching it, but with how dazed the enemy is, the abnormal strength behind it make stumble around from each heavy impact. They kept up their onslaught of slashes until the big hunk of metal fell over on its back. Its helmet split open from the center, revealing the abomination underneath– oh, it’s just a maggot… how is a maggot operating this thing!? Whatever, no questions asked, Yin will take this time to heal, the damage they had taken was fairly minimal, considering he got hit with the shockwave created by the mace rather than the weapon itself.
Tristan had a similar reaction to Yin, evidently shocked. “So that’s what it looks like!?” Tristan shook his head, no time to question it, he dashed in to ambush the maggot with Yin, they were able to get some hits in, Yin stabbed at its elastic, but surprisingly durable skin before it retreated back into the armor, the helmet closing on them.
Its arms flapped wildly, trying to swat them away. They didn’t get hit, but it did get them to back off, and allow it to stand back up on its feet.
Now, too peeved for a zombie to have any right to be, it set its eyes on Tristan, raising its mace high up, and began speeding towards the boy whilst slamming its weapon around wildly. Tristan’s eyes widened, turning tail and began to run away from the lunatic, being chased by a livid, infected maggot with a mace that could flatten him. Each time the heavy head slammed against the ground, a ring-shaped shockwave sprouted from the impact, each one fading away after it traveled a short distance.
Tristan speeds towards a wall, jumping on it, then launches off of it like a springboard past the armored maggot, right as it tries to crush him into the wall. Now behind it, he ran until Yin was right beside him, running with them. Yin lowered themself as they ran while Tristan jumped, his arm glowing gold as he pulled it back. They struck the thick metal with all their effort at about the same time. Yin may not be able to cleanly cut the armor as they are now, and Tristan’s temporary boosts only equal to Yin’s unnatural strength, together, they were able to make a noticeable dent in the armor.
A garbled cry came from inside the armor as it lost footing, crashing into the wall, the recoil making it stumble back. With a growl that sounded like it was foaming from the mouth, it tightly gripped the handle of the mace, and spun in a circle, the weapon being held low to the ground forcing both to jump away. Now with some distance and a smokescreen, it pulled its weapon back, lifting it up from behind with charged energy, and brought it down in front of it, striking the ground in a particular way that sent a tall, but narrow shockwave aimed right at them.
Tristan and Yin jumped opposite ways on instinct, they didn’t expect that to come from the dust. The knightly armor dug its weapon into the ground, dragging it across the stony floor, pushing it forward and up with a little too much force, swinging the mace up, almost making it fall back, but it sent rocks towards Yin. It alternates hurling rocks at the two, the lingering wall of energy keeping them both of them away from each other, not to mention the chunks of rock falling from the ceiling.
‘How long can that wall stay up!?’ Tristan complained, annoyance worming his way into his nerves. He just got fed up and decided to rush forward with grit teeth.
In the middle of flinging rocks to his friend, he almost stopped when a rock was thrown back at it, the mass of metal was clearly not expecting that either with the way it flinched when it hit the helmet, shattering into smaller pieces of rock; that lowered the wall separating them, it was keeping it up with sheer force of will… and soul. The opportunity presented itself, and they were going to capitalize off of it.
Tristan had seen that Yin was ahead of him quite a bit, closer to the boss than he was, he sprang into a sprint, racing to get close enough to hit the maggot’s tough armor at the same time. The butterfly leaped in the air, tucking his legs in, which were glowing brighter than usual to signify that he’s putting more power, going high, while The Knight kept running forward, drawing their nail back. Tristan’s legs shot forward, drop-kicking it in the lower half of its torso, at the same time, Yin swung at full strength with timing better than the first time they tried, the synchronized attacks denting the armor even more. The sound of the metal crumpling out of shape and vibrating the entire mass of armor made the maggot inside cry out loudly, trying to be louder than the reverberating metal as it loses balance.
As Tristan lands on his feet, he winds his left fist back ducking a little as Yin lifted their nail over their head, and land another synchronized attack at the same spot, Tristan threw his fist forward at the same time Yin brought their weapon down. Making it stumble back a couple of times.
Pain shot through Tristan’s arm as he pulls it back to his side, sucking air through his teeth, “Ahh- holy fffffrghk,” Tristan shook his hand to ease the pain, his body is beginning to ache again, coupled with the pain in his hand… he suspects that he’s broken a bit off of his shell from punching metal like that. In his head, he decides that he’s gonna have to tough it out, use his other hand while it heals into a more usable state, waiting until the pain is gone would take too long.
Ironically, he was too distracted by his thoughts to not notice the enemy recover faster than he expected, he snapped out of it too late when the weighted ball was inches away. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to dodge, he reinforced his body for defense, putting his damaged arm first. The False Knight’s swing hit dead-on, launching him across the room like he was weightless, he choked out a noise of pain as his body hits the ground. “Dang it,” he growled, pushing himself up with his good arm. ‘I need to stop thinking so much, I would’ve avoided that cheap shot if I was paying more attention,’ He chastised himself internally.
He sits up to watch Yin dance around the hulking mass and its weapon while he recovers, they were able to attack back a few times before they had to avoid another one of the armored maggot’s easily reactable attacks. Their nail were starting to leave deeper cuts in the armor the more they hit the already damaged area.
As he lets his friend distract the foe, he focuses his magic onto his arm to try and speed up the healing process. He watches them weave around the False Knight’s heavy blows, heavily envying their strength, it was obvious that they were more experienced than him, and– his head snapped up, a rock fell from the ceiling Yin was right under it, Tristan noticed it too late, it was the same for Yin, they didn’t have the speed he did to avoid it dropping directly onto their head, throwing them off balance, and they took a full swing to the face by its mace.
“NO!” Tristan shriekss as Yin was launched to the side, bouncing off the wall and landing on their face.
They were visibly panting, despite no air nor sound coming out of them when their chest fell, their mask was cracked. They recovered quickly; getting back onto their feet, they ran towards the beast, jumping over a shockwave hurling towards them, stopping in place just outside the range of its weapon as it slammed the head into the ground again, no shockwave was formed due to it panicking, leaving no time for itself to charge during its hasty windup. They ran around the weapon to slash at a damaged out spot across the armor’s lower section with all of their strength, managing to jam their nail through the tiny hole it had made.
A crack was heard as their nail struck true, they looked, and their nail had cracked, it’s in an even worse state. With a bit of effort, they pulled it out… only half of it made it out, anyway. They stared at it for a moment in disbelief, but they quickly got over it, they should’ve expected it happening sooner or later with how rough they were with it.
Trisan, however, looked distraught, a sliver of hopelessness at the pit of his stomach at what had happened, their weapon broke, what were they going to do now?
…
‘What am I doing right now!?’ Tristan asks himself as he stands up just as Yin jumped back a couple meters to get some distance. “Hey!” He calls out, gaining the attention of it, “You’re so weak even with all that armor, you’re struggling with bugs 5 times smaller than you!”
Luckily, it took the badly thought up taunt poorly, gripping its mace with much more force as it turned fully towards him. Tristan forces a co*cky smile across his unseen face, taking a deep, shaky breath. “Bring it on!” He challenged. He had to get it away from Yin, they had no weapon to speak of right now.
It charged towards him with a cry, raring to turn the boy into a stain on the ground. Tristan decides to turn off his passive healing, his arm is in a better state now, it isn’t on the hinge of breaking apart, it’s just that it’s beginning to make him feel drained using this much– especially after taking a hit head on from this thing. He should be fast enough to not get hit, and keep his distance, even in the cramped space, cheap shots like earlier won’t happen if he keep his attention to it, Yin was able to do some damage to its armor, it’s not unbreakable– if he can use his powers accordingly and sparingly, he can do this.
Tristan dove to the side, dodging its attempt to flatten him, he ran under the thing pole of the mace as it swung sideways. He felt so light without the constant use of healing, it really takes a strain off of him when he isn’t steadily draining his reserves. He swerved around, his fist glowed a bright gold, and at the spot Yin had attacked the most, its right side at its hips, he threw the hardest punch he could, risking it with his bad arm.
His entire body left hand hurt a lot, but he pushed, alternating with his right fist, slightly denting it more. He was able to sneak in one more punch with his left again before he had to jump back. It immediately held its weapon high, and with a grunt of effort, it slammed the rocky floor, sending out a pair of shockwaves with a wide opening between them. He ran in immediately, only to stop when he almost became a victim of The Falling Rocks™.
It wasted no time in hitting the ground again, another pair of shockwaves, but much narrower, almost touching, and heading straight for the butterfly. Tristan glanced up before rolling to the side, no rocks were falling near him. Just as he was getting ready to rush in. And then a crash, the sound of metal bending out of shape was loud in the room.
Yin had used the wooden club they had stored from the guard they had killed earlier, slamming it into the spot Tristan had punched at, the added weight made their hit as strong as it was when they timed their attack together. The way the steel bent had it stumble to the side, its center of gravity thrown off, the maggot let out a confused noise, it turned to The Knight, raising the handle to block their club, but their strikes were just too heavy for the maggot, especially with their side misshapenned like it is now, making its knees crumple.
Yin wasn’t used to swinging around a weapon as heavy as this, their balance also visibly thrown off, so their follow up wasn’t fast enough to connect as it jumped high up in the air. As it nearly touched the roof, gravity took hold, and pulled it back down, ready to slam its mace directly onto them. Yin took a huge leap to the side to compensate for the added weight of his weapon, sparing Tristan a glance. What they saw made them freeze up.
Tristan cursed inwardly, laid out flat on the floor, helpless. He messed up, he let up just a bit too much when Yin pulled out their second weapon, and his body just shut down, it didn’t want to respond. His body could only tremble when he wanted it to move, his high had come crashing down, and the constant stress put on his body, paired with the little time he’s had a proper rest had finally caught up, as much as he wanted to deny it.
Spending too much time worrying instead of fighting, they didn’t see the shockwave that followed right after, barreling right towards them. They were knocked in the air, the maggot in armor winds up, and slams its mace full force right into Yin’s head, sending them crashing into the arena wall, knocking the club out of their hands.
”NO!” Tristan screamed. He grits his teeth, grunting, trying to force his body to move, trying to move a single part of his body, he could only get them to twitch, “GET AWAY FROM THEM!” He screeched.
The hulking mass of metal ignored Tristan, limping towards his friend. There has to be something he can do, he can’t let it–
Then, it seems like time slows down to a crawl, his world twisting and changing.
“Tristan, are you listening?”
‘Another convenient memory?’ Tristan questioned himself. ‘Wait, I know that voice–’
“C’mon, son, if you’re going to be learning stuff from a bug like him, I might as well teach you something that’ll surprise him.”
‘That voice, that’s dad’s voice!’
The eyes that Tristan can see through look at his dad, it’s still hard to remember his appearance, but he knows that voice. The younger him makes a noise of excitement the moment he mentioned surprising… ‘Him’.
“I’ve seen it in action, you’re fast, and I know you can use that to your advantage.”
Tristan can’t feel pain right now, his body struggles, but his hands tighten into a fist, his arms tremble as he pushes himself up subconsciously.
“Did you know that speed can increase the power of your punches?”
‘Yes, I do.’ His past self shook his head, however.
“It’s basic physics, really, but let me demonstrate!” Dave wheeled over to where there were vines on the wall, “Let’s say I want to stab these with my prosthetics! Now if I tried to just…” He stretched out his legs, straightening out his prosthetics, he slowly wheeled forward, the sharp point ending at his fake legs touched, and pushed into the vine, but. “It doesn’t go through, see? Now if I back up.”
Tristan’s legs were shaking as he was standing, barely able to support his body, he took a few steps backwards, pressing himself up against a wall. He moved at a snail’s pace (no offense to snails), but so did the disfigured armor.
“And go as fast as I can,” Dave rolled forward as fast as his arms could push him, and his leg broke through the vine’s tissue, and stabbed right through, “It goes through like soft butter… Does butter…?”
Tristan got into a couch start, his legs glowing a bright golden color, pouring so much into them. The False Knight’s mace raised up high, poised to shatter the smaller knight.
Dave shook his head, getting back to the point, “So if you have a chance to surprise him, then just do what you’re good at.”
Tristan’s vision clears, his eyes darting around, instantly noticing the mace inches away from his friend’s head. His concentration intensifies, the distance between him and the armored maggot seemingly expands, his surroundings fogging up, tunneling on the threat. The task of closing the distance isn’t a matter of whether or not he can, it’s something he has to do, or else he’ll lose them, to save them, he has too–
“Run, run as fast as you can!”
His vision became a streak of blurs, and like a missile, Tristan shot forward, becoming a blur of red with a trail of gold. His cloak flew off at the speed he was going, not that he noticed, he was focused only on the enemy getting closer and closer, it was the only thing that he could see clearly. Clenching his teeth together, he pulled his left hand back, closing it into a tight fist, he had transferred whatever power he had left, and focused it into the damaged arm, forgoing defense, intending on making it as strong as possible.
Before Yin, or the maggot knew, there were two sounds: The loud clunk of something striking the metal, crumpling completely under the force, at the same time, a sickening crunch, that, while quieter, resounds the entire room all the same.
Tristan’s fist ran into the armor like a speeding train, the momentum had the armored maggot fall forward, Yin hurriedly ran between its legs to avoid crushing them as it came down.
The next thing Tristan felt was a burning, stabbing pain, his other hand tried to clutch his arm, only to grab nothing. He turned to see why, the majority of his left arm was missing, only a stump was where his arm once was. The realization took a moment to process, but once it struck, the pain amplified into pure agony as he fell onto the floor.
_____________
Yin looked back as they ran to pick up their wooden club, and saw Tristan rolling on the ground as he screamed, howled in pain, the sound of it, and the look of pain and horror on the boy’s face shook them to their core. That’s when they saw Tristan's hand– it… it collapsed into itself, hemolymph was everywhere, his chitin was cracked, bent, and ripped off.
The maggot, having fallen over once more, had its head popping out of the safety of its helmet– this is the last time it would ever do this, Yin decides. Jumping up in the air, they raised their weapon high, and came down with their club slamming down on top of the maggot, making it cry out with each hit. Yin repeats this a few more times its head caving in with each brutal strike, its cries growing weaker until it stopped moving and making any kind of sound… until it bubbled up, its body expanding, they jump back before half of its body explodes in an orange mist, popping itself out of the opening of the helmet.
The Knight immediately turned to Tristan clutching his arm, looking over their shoulder, what was meant to be a brief look at where the boy was just at a moment ago, turned into a longer stare, seeing that his hood had flown off, and even further was a fading cloud of dust that revealed cracks in the floor and wall that weren’t there seconds ago. Switching their attention back to Tristan would surprise them with a smile the young butterfly was forcing on his face, a smile full of pride. He tried to speak, but he’s so exhausted that he can’t form a word, only tired gibberish.
They turn back at the corpse, a gleam catching their air, the light hitting the object at just the right angle for them to see it on the ground. They tread over to it, finding some kind of key, it was surprisingly clean, considering it supposedly came from the maggot. Just in case the object becomes useful later, they store it, and the club within themselves and head back to Tristan’s side, picking up the boy with ease, it was no challenge with their strength.
The gate opposite of where the one they came in opened back up, Yin had noticed the cracked wall it had dropped from, it confused them because it wasn’t cracked before, did it do so in the middle of their battle? When? They shook their head, it was already open, they didn't need to waste time when Tristan was vulnerable, they needed to find a place for Tristan to rest and heal, preferably at a bench, the one at the stag came to their mind.
Before Yin went forward, they had collected the boy’s hood, and ran out, planning on leaving this battle behind without a second thought; their priority is to get Tristan to safety, benches are good resting areas;,though it wasn’t instant, it heals things considerably faster. They don’t know if it heals severe conditions such as this, though.
As they were about to proceed, Yin had missed something, not all of the things residing in the maggot came out with the key they had taken, there were multiple objects, they were hot, pulsing with energy within the corpse’s insides, and just as they carefully jumped down…
One of the maggot’s limbs twitched.
Mindful of Tristan’s condition, who seemed on the verge of passing out, Yin made their way down with careful haste, ignoring a chest that had just been made accessible, the gate in front of it opening up. The knight landed on the floor, and turned to go back, but it was blocked off by the bars of yet another gate.
Tristan’s eyes were heavy, his vision blurring, the edges of it turning black, as if darkness is swallowing it, the once stabbing pain slowly fading to a dull pain, his breathing slowed down many paces, a million thoughts ran through his head, and they passed by too quickly to process what he was actually thinking. He heard the sound of something heavy smashing into chitin, and a thick fluid splattering on the ground, as muffled as it may be, he smiled, happy that Yin is safe, and is protecting him in turn. He believes in them enough to allow himself to relax… and fall to the lull… of sleep.
…
…
.
> He’s finally asleep. I have a chance to do this.
D:\##### console> move? ████████ to: Tristan’s dream.
Loading…
…
…
…
Command accepted!
You are entering someone’s dream who’s ████████████████, this may take extra time for the command to work. Please be patient.
___________________
Floating, it felt like he was floating.
Floating
Floating Floating Floating
Floating Floating Floating
Floating
Floating.
His wings weren’t wet somehow… Was he in water? It didn’t feel like it, but at the same time…
Tristan took a deep breath, his eyes snapping wide open, the– the giant mountain of metal, the giant, he’s in danger! Get up! Getupgetupgetupgetupget– wait… danger from what?
He checks both of his hands, squeezing them, he seems fine… No, something’s off, but he can’t... He takes his eyes off of his hands, looking around, searching for his friend, his knightly companion, Yin. The end of ‘companion’ and ‘Yin’ sound the same– not the point, he needs to know where he is, what happened for him to get here. His memory’s fuzzy, he can’t remember anything. He doesn’t go into a panic despite this.
With nothing better to do, he turns to a random direction, and starts walking into the pitch-black void that is… this… place. The lack of footsteps when he walked felt weird, eerie, it didn't help that there was no visible floor, it definitely felt like he was walking on something. Everything here seems surreal and off in a way, just a general feel or vibe.
He looks to his left, nothing, he flips to his right, noth– wait, who’s that? There’s a silhouette of someone in the distance. He steps forward slowly, exercising caution, getting closer and closer to the figure. Even up close, they were blacked out– not blacked out, there was nothing but a black outline, that he can somehow see in this sea of black, of what this blocky figure could look like, it was like it would’ve been invisible if it weren’t for them.
He looks around this mysterious… object? Creature? To the right of it, there was something that appeared out of thin air, floating, it was structured like a scroll of text, but he could only see it as:
███ █████ █████ █████████ █████████ █████ ██ ███████ █ ████████
Tristan decideds disregard it, he can’t read it like this, so it’s pointless watching it continue. As the thought passes in his… consciousness, a flash of white did engulfs his sight, the atmosphere abruptly changing whilst blind makes his heart soar. The presence behind him was huge, and he couldn’t see it, he began to blink rapidly, rubbing his eyelids, his vision slowly returned back to normal.
As soon as his sight becomes clear enough, the first thing he sees when he turns towards the presence is a set of angular legs. His eyes trail upward, the body of a pure white… he’ll call them a bug for convenience sake, is revealed to him, tall and bulky, then his eyes meet its singular eye. His gaze descends down its body once more, and he catches something that somehow slipped past his eyes, there’s another… another dark gray bug– it was inside of the… that one had one eye too, a lot less angular than the white shell– or whatever. There were a string of mysterious letters, ones he could see the shape of, but not read, it’s in a language he’s never seen.
He takes a step back, his gaze drifting to the head of the gray bug, its singular eye regarding him with a gentle, but otherwise neutral look. Even further up, he meets the second eye, one on the white one’s face, the main head… are they separate people? Is it one person controlling two bodies? Why can he see both of them endlessly in itself, no matter the angle he looks at it.
> Are you done looking?
Tristan jumps at the voice all around him, it sounded like three people blended carefully to sound like a unique voice at once speaking softly, he can’t place his finger on what those voices are, but they sound familiar to him… Right– it asked a question. “I… dunno…” he answered, he looked and sounded lost. “Where am I? Who… what are you?”
> ████████
… Its serious demeanor suddenly switches to a flustered one as he realizes that his name was censored, the little gray one facepalms.
> Oh r-right, you can just call me… Recurser. Yeah, Recurser.
It cleared its throat.
> Moving on, I’m sure you know that you’re unconscious, right?
Well, he didn’t know a second ago, but the second they mentioned it, everything… everything rushed back into him, becoming paralyzed under memories speeding past, yet able to take them all in, all at once. From the moment he woke up on that bench, to the battle against the puppeteered suit of armor that they had scraped a victory for. He nodded his head.
> I had to pick this moment to talk to you because I figured that there would be plenty of time before you wake back up.
Tristan blinked, taking in their words becoming a harder process, his mind still reeling, “O… kay, Recurser, what did you want me to do?”
> I know it sounds dumb, but I’m going to teach you a little bit of what I know about your powers in your sleep, we’ll be training in here.
Tristan was confused, the idea didn’t make any sense to him, “Training? In my sleep? How? That doesn’t sound possible.”
> Oh it is, under the right circ*mstances, any living creature can do it, the more you practice the powers that come from your soul, the stronger you grow, regardless if it’s mental or physical training. At least, I hope it does in this situation.
Tristan’s gaze drifted down at the invisible floor, a thoughtful hum came from him. His eyes snapped back up to the White One’s eye, “‘You hope’? What do you mean by that?”
Recurser looked to the side, avoiding having to look back at the child’s scrutiny.
> Well…
He scratches the back of his head, his eyes darting over the place, trying to think of a way to explain it.
> You see, I’m trying to mimic something, and while I was able to enter your subconscious, I did it in a rush, so there is a chance of it not replicating the effects of the thing I’m trying to copy.
He eventually explained.
Tristan seems to accept the answer, moving on, “I have an unrelated question, but why was your entry so bright?”
One of their eyes furrowed, making a confused expression as best as they could with his eye placements, he tilted his head to the side to further express it.
> Bright?
His eyes widened when he realized what Tristan meant.
> Oh, that was just a coincidence, your friend, G- er, Yin, as you call them, right? They’re getting an upgrade to say the least, and I don’t want you to fall behind.
“Fall behind?”
> Yes, this place- this kingdom… it’s… from what I’ve seen, a lot harder, a more perilous journey if you were to go through with it, I’d say.
Recurser holds a block hand up to their chin.
> It might be because the both of you are here at the same time.
There were so many questions running through Tristan’s head, but he was afraid to ask many of them, he couldn’t even vocalize any of them before Recurser continued,
> I’ve been helping you in tough spots even before we’ve officially met.
Tristan’s reaction was immediate, his eyes widening for just a moment before they slightly squinting, his antennae flicking rapidly. He stares intensely into Recurser’s top eye, “Before?” He parrots, “What do you mean by that?” He pushed further.
He continued before Recurser could give him an answer, “Wait hold on, why are there letters beside you when you speak?” He asked, then he shook his head, he held on to his head, a sudden headache making him groan, which is funny because he’s currently in his head. “Ugh, it’s so hard to stay focused on one thing, I feel so lethargic one moment and then I’m not and I start to question things way later… and my head hurts.” he complained. He recognizes that he’s doing exactly that trying to complain about it, “So– back to the important part, you’ve been helping me? How?”
> Did you ever see… you thought that they were convenient right? The visions you had during tough times?
“Yeah… How did you…” he blinks a couple of times, his eyes then went wide as the pieces clicked. “You… did that?”
Without a visible mouth, Recurser seemed to smile.
> You’d be correct, Golden One, I made them appear in your head– quite earlier than you were supposed to.
They kneel down at his level, Tristan could only guess that it’s around 3 meters (9 feet) tall, maybe a little under.
> You may or may not trust me, but all I wish for is your safety.
Tristan frowned slightly, no distrust, no, there was something that was bugging him. “You said earlier than I was supposed to… do you know what happens in the future?”
Recurser shook his head, giving back an apologetic look.
> Not as much as I’d like, the things I have right now are vague… and limited.
“Why… and how?”
Recurser hesitates, both eyes dart back and forth between Tristan’s eyes and the endless black.
> I’m… I took it upon myself to be an ‘orderkeeper’, of sorts, I saw that this kingdom was made more difficult to accommodate for two people exploring at once, and I wanted to make it more fair, I suppose…
Recurser pauses for a moment.
> I want you help you with your goal, because you’re a special bug.
Tristan frowns, then smiles, willing to ignore that Recurser was hiding something from him for now, “Oh thanks! That’s nice and helpful, so when can we get started?”
Recurser’s expression turns into one of surprise, a sliver of doubt layered underneath.
> … You’re… trusting me that much?
Tristan shrugged, “Well, it’s… well, it’s hard to explain, but, I can see the way you look at me, expectation, admiration…” He sighed, “I don’t even know you, but I can tell you’re not the type to lie… you’re also helping me so that I can find my dad, so…
Recurser gazes at him, then he laughs, a genuine laugh bubbling from them, gaining a bashful look.
> I see, thanks– for trusting me, I mean.
Their eyes then gain a melancholic look, raising a blocky… stub. Tristan watches the gridded, blocky stub closely, swearing that he’s seen it as a hand before, when it breaks apart into five, four of them were equally divided, with the fifth being much shorter. Tristan internally questions why they have four fingers and a thumb.
Recurser places the hand on their shoulder gently.
> I know that you’re a kid, so you probably don’t know, but… that trust you give to other bugs, that could be dangerous. The world isn’t as kind as you are, so please, be more wary of others in the future, I don’t want you getting hurt.
Tristan stares, peering deeply into the White’s eye, then the Grey’s eye, soaking up the words. He nods wordlessly.
> Great, now let’s start our practice. The first thing we’re going to do is identify weaknesses, and help you overcome them, or make them easier to manage. You’re a smart kid though, so you might have already noted some of your weaknesses.
“Right.”
> Regardless, we’re going to start from the top: Your stamina… it’s not that you don’t have a lot of it, it’s just that you use a lot of energy doing simple things, but that’s just a byproduct of learning how to do things for the first time.
Recurser says as he circles the boy.
> There’s not many new things we can learn at your current state, but I can help you develop your fundamentals with the amount of time we have here.
Tristan nods, taking in each of Recurser’s words, “Just the basics?”
Recurser nods his head, he seems a little excited to teach him things.
> That’s right. Right now, you have scattered memories, and rusty muscle memory, those were the two things keeping you alive, even in that fight against the False Knight, I had to pull a memory out of the depths of your infantile stage of life to help you pull through, and…
Tristan didn’t need Recurser to finish the sentence as he clasps his left arm. He has it in this dream, but in the real world…
> Fret not, it is not a permanent loss, you can heal it, and most likely use up the rest of what you have to heal it to a usable state, but right now, it's you need to conserve what you have right now– you have to have some for this training to even happen.
Tristan sighs, but agrees, he wants to heal it right now, but that’s not smart, “I’ll heal it when I wake up, it’s not a big deal… how would I do it anyway?”
> I assume it’s not dissimilar to what you’ve been doing to use it in an offensive, or defensive manner, focusing your energy to a specific spot, making new cells, and regenerating dead cells, and…
Recurser saw Tristan raise a brow. Right, he forgets that this isn’t like the others.
> By that, I mean you’ll be able to regrow your arm in no time, but I imagine that costs way more.
Tristan rocks his head back, understanding what’s being said now, “Oh, yeah, I already have an automatic healing thing, I think… It’s a little more powerful when my heart beats faster, do you know that?” He asks the otherworldly being, continuing when he sees him nod, “Right… So, about training, where do we start?”
Recurser clapped his blocky hands together.
> I’m glad you’re eager to start!
_________________
Yin slowly woke up, light slowly penetrating the darkness of their unconsciousness. Their entire body feels so heavy. The first thing they see are bones and carcasses, that’s what it feels like it feels like to them.
They were able to lift their head up first, then getting their limbs to move, albeit lethargically. While getting up, they see their club propped up on the wall next to them. Looking around, they also spot bars of a metal gate shutting them off from the other side, what was on the other side? The Snail Shaman. They stare at him, body and mind still reeling from… Their body jolted as memories resurfaced; he gave them a ‘gift’ as he called it, and for a moment, they absorbed the power. They felt so strong, it felt hot, like they felt on top of the world.
That power was so strong, a power so strong, so foreign, that the moment they fully absorbed it, the spell, ‘Vengeful Spirit’, into their being, it was just… too much. They blacked out as they fell to the ground with a loud thud a moment later.
Next thing they know, they’re here… and he’s sleeping. Tristan barged into their mind, gazing past the snail as the reminder of their friend spurred their body to completely get up on their feet. Much to their relief, they spot Tristan, in the same spot they left him, the hooded cloak covering him. His damaged arm still hung outside, and saw that his arm had mostly regrown, only a stump below his wrist would be.
Their frantic scrambling stirred the snail awake from the looks of it, slowly blinking open his pure white eyes, contrasting his black hide, “Ah, you awaken!” He crooned, his eyes closed and creasing upward to express his happiness. “I apologize for dozing off myself, keeping watch of the both of you has drawn me to sleep as well, ohohoho!”
He opened his eyes, clapping his hands together, “I also apologize for leaving you behind bars, but I have a favor for you if you don’t mind! Not for repayment, but because you accepted my gift, so that means we’re friends.” He stated simply, as if it were a fact. “A ferocious, nasty beast managed to sneak in here and make itself home in my home, and I simply will. Not. Allow that,” The shaman shook his head to emphasize the last few words. “It’ll be a good outlet to test your new gift before you venture back out there.”
Yin dipped their head, raising a paw to gaze at their hands, their digits opening and closing. They can feel the power thrumming, aching to be used, to be released. They look back up and nod, then point their eye holes at the slumbering child.
“Ah, the young, golden child. Don’t fret, he will be fine.” The snail reassures with a nod, “I know how important he is to you, so I will keep my eyes on him, I’ll tell him where you are if he wakes up before you come back.”
They keep their gaze on the sleeping butterfly for a little longer, then give the snail a nod. They grab their wooden weapon by the hilt and turn around, walking into the bony caverns– it feels like a cavern here, anyway.
“Wait,” the Shaman stops them a few steps out. “I should tell you this before I ever forget,” he began. When Yin looked over their shoulder, he continued, “This friend of yours, he’s a special kind, his Soul is a unique light, different from the sickness that plagues the minds of this dying kingdom,” he points out, something that they already knew. “With you two here, something has changed. I am oblivious of exactly what, but I want you to be close to him, protect him… that is my only other favor from me,” he said, his joyous tone changed to be a little bit more serious, “Good luck,” he concluded.
The vague words only had them tilting their head, but at his request to protect the boy, it was easy to accept. Yin proceeded forward.
Their steps echo in the silence, they were resting their weapon on their shoulder, it was way too big for them to hold any other way. Hopping over a little hole in the ground, they come across a tiny bug with a soft, but developing blue shell along its back, a hatchling, most likely. The orange glow in its eyes tells them that it’s infected all the same, sadly. They grasp the handle with both hands as instinct told them to do, then pausing.
Strangely, Yin stood there, even as it tucked into a ball, and rolled towards them. Before it made contact with them, their hand darts out, building up the soul in their reserves into their hand to shoot out of them in the form of a burning, white-hot blast of energy– it had eye-holes at the forefront– it charged through the tiny bug, leaving only a seared, fully dead bug in its wake. Shocked at what just happened, Yin was as still as a statue, processing what they just did. Slowly, they turned their hand to have their palm face them, staring deeply at them.
Their club dropped as their excitement slowly built up in them. They begin to run around, their fists high in the air, then they start leaping, leaping as high as they could, throwing their head back like they’re cheering for themselves. They’ve never felt anything like this, the rush, this– this,,, they didn’t know what to call it, but they would be giggling if they could.
In the midst of a jump, they ripped out another one, unable to hold back the urge to fire another one, this time noticing a few things: There was a little kick, a recoil to it, which is understandable, the speed it flies out of them, the power of it– it was enough to stall them in the air for an extra second; the second thing is that it takes a lot to cast the spell in the first place, maybe as much as it would take to Focus.
Landing on the ground, their energy simmered, tapping their chin as they thought about what to do with this last charge. It was much easier for them to do so, they noticed, thinking… The first moment they remember coming to this kingdom, their head was… empty so to say, and not from the lack of memories, but just that they… wouldn’t… couldn’t think? It wasn’t until Tristan came along that they were doing it more and more.
They shook their head, noticing that they were getting sidetracked, they had already decided on how to do it; how to cast the last spell their current reserves were able to allow them. Though they didn’t need to, they did a motion of taking a deep breath to calm themselves. They tuck their body in, and thrust it out, sending out another Vengeful Spirit out in front of them, confirming that they did not need to hold their hand out to cast a spell.
With no more Soul left, they pick their club back up, nestling it on their shoulders, and tread onwards.
Why are there spikes in this man’s home?
Avoiding them was no problem, thankfully, and so were the beams of wood blocking their path, they went down in just one hit. The good thing they’ve found out was that even though they take out these tiny bugs in one hit as well, they siphoned more Soul in proportion.
There was a split in the path, forward, or down. Yin chooses to go forward first. The winding halls of the mound, filled with porcelain masks and husks makes them wonder if these are real or not. As they jumped up back and forth between ascending platforms, the masks along the walls and floor were making them feel… Oh! It’s one of those blue cocoon thingies!
Yin ran up to it, looking closely, trying to peer through the soft, glowing blue shell. They couldn’t, much to their disappointment. They pull their club back, and slam it directly onto the cocoon, and it tore right open at the bottom. Thick droplets of blue splatter directly below it, and with it were the same little bugs that they found before they entered Dirtmouth, four of them.
Before they could scatter too far away, Yin snatches two of them, and stores it within themselves, and crushes the other two, orbs of light blue rise in the air for a moment before shooting towards them. Their body absorbs the orbs of the bright blue liquid, and just like that time, it reinforces their entire body, like an invisible, protective layer encasing them; the taste is just as sweet as they remember.
Going past the now black, deflated cocoon, they end up dropping down where they entered, at least the circle they went around had rewarded them for exploring.
With nowhere else to go, they break down the wooden barricades that were blocking the hole that lead downward, landing from the short drop, Yin looks up the hole they dropped through.
Ptooey
Yin’s head snapped toward where the sound came from, and from up above, an orange ball of spit arched in the air, aiming right for them, it was easy enough to sidestep. They-
Boom…
That sound made them pause, even the infected of those larger variants of bugs that curl up into balls paused at the distant, but loud noise. The name of these bugs are on the tip of their tongue–
Boom.
It’s getting louder, it’s approaching, from behind. The infected bug’s gaze goes past Yin at the wall behind them, tilting its head as if it’s alive enough to question. They follow their gaze, fully turning around.
“Huough,”
A familiar wheeze, followed by a CRASH shakes the area around them. Yin takes a few steps away from the wall, holding their club out in front of them.
_________________
In Tristan’s subconscious, he feels a light tremor that rocks him and almost makes him fall, “W-Woah!” The butterfly looks around, the green, grassy floor, and the fog that surrounds them in the air fading away to total, empty black once more, “What was that?”
Recurser, equally concerned, furrows his eyes, looking at something that wasn’t visible to Tristan. His eyes then widened, a worrying sight to the boy, and before he could question, Recurser spoke first.
> Dammit, I thought we would have more time!
“More time?! What’s–”
> Tristan, sorry to cut our practice short, I don’t know when or if we’re going to be able to meet like this again, but you have to wake up.
Tristan, stunned, takes a second to respond, “What? Why!?” He shouted, the unevenness in the being’s voice only worried him more.
> There’s no time to explain, your friend Yin is in danger!
The white and gray being warned, his tone left no room for argument or protests. So Tristan complied, concentrating, pushing through the tight hold of unconsciousness.
> I’m sorry I wasn’t able to do all I planned for you at this moment, but I am so happy that I was able to meet you kind of in person. Now good luck out there, go-
You have been disconnected, exiting: Tristan’s dream.
Recurser hitched, freezing at the text that popped up in front of him. He sighs, letting his arms flop to his side.
> I wish I could’ve said more to him…
_________________
Tristan awakens with a start. “Wha–”
Interrupting him was a thundering boom that trembled the ground, the sound drew his eyes up to see the wall crumbling down, and Yin shooting out of a cloud of dust. Yin had their weapon held in front of them defensively, following them– his whole body went cold when he saw it– the same maggot they’d killed, its smashed face reinflated, and hastily melded together by a white glowing light over its scar. The re-reanimated maggot held the same mace, now looking way too big for their small, soft-shelled hands, behind it were 3 extra maces floating behind it, made entirely out of Soul by its pure white appearance and luminescence.
Tristan leapt off of the bench towards it, flipping over the wide swing of a floating mace like it had a mind of its own, his gold-glowing leg kicked down overhead, connecting with its head, spiking it towards the ground as it shrieked. “Yin! Catch!” He shouted, throwing a hand toward The Knight, tossing wisps of Soul towards them.
As Yin lands on the ground, skidding to a stop, they turn to Tristan in time to see the same wisps fly right into them, refilling their empty reserves enough for a spell. Focusing back on the Berserker Maggot, they tracked its descent to the ground holding their hand out and fired a blast of burning white where it would land.
On the opposite side of the room, a similar mass of Soul barreled towards it, colliding into the maggot as it landed on the bony floor at the same time both Yin and Tristan turn to where the second came from, and the Snail Shaman had his staff pointed toward the thing.
With an annoyed huff, it gets back up, one of the maces abruptly hovering over its head horizontally as Tristan comes down with a stomp, stopping the butterfly on his path. Tristan jumped back in time to avoid a second one from his side, the undead maggot spared a glance at each of them, there was a hint of intelligence to those lifeless eyes, before it locked onto the Snail Shaman.
The three extra maces head for both Tristan and Yin, two for the knight, one for the boy each. With a lumbering groan, it jumps into the air and throws its weapon straight for the gastropod, and he leaps with an explosion of soul, propelling him far away, and with rapid, angry chanting, readied his next spell.
Tristan was keeping an eye on the Shaman as he avoided the automated mace, but he seemed to be doing fine, Yin was doing,,, less than fine, dealing with two of them, and still getting used to the weight difference of a nail and the giant wooden claymore. He was about to rush in and do something, if he could– the annoying part for Tristan is that the mace is pretty good at tracking, and keeping up with him, even as he tries to inch toward them, and it only gets more persistent when he keeps trying to glance at others, not really paying attention to it.
Yin jumped to the side, bringing their weapon behind them, they swung widely, revolving around once, knocking both of the maces around them away straight at a wall. They roll their shoulders, they feel like they’re getting a bit better at swinging around this kind of weight.
The Shaman finished chanting as the Berserker Maggot retrieved its mace, turning around to face him, unluckily for him, it noticed the white spot underneath itself, and dove forward, getting out of the glowing spot as a giant hand emerged from it.
Using the leap to its advantage, it slams its weapon in the ground, sending a wave directly toward him, which he also dodges, and it follows up with a lunge, closing the distance instantly in the midst of his dodge, punting the snail in his side, and launching him off. He let out a yell as he flew back a few meters, managing to keep a tight grip on his staff.
Tristan watches in confusion when the mace’s assault stopped, backing off of him, he looks at the other two that his companion knocked away, and sees them levitating too, they were going back to the maggot. They snapped up in the air, and scattered throughout the room, and planted themselves upright into the ground, the corpse jumped in the air, coming down straight for the Shaman.
The boy sped toward the laid out snail as gravity pulled the maggot down, lifting him up, and rolled to the side a moment before it brung the mace down where they were at a moment ago. A ringed wave of energy shot out from the impact, slamming into both of them. The planted ones emit their own wave of energy with the slam, one of them, right by The Knight, rammed into them too.
Tristan, and by extension, the Shaman, bumped into Yin the air, bouncing off of each other. He could hear the Snail, who he just realized he doesn’t know the name of, growl with uncharacteristic rage, “You think you can just come in here and wreck my home!? I’ll damn the burning light in you to the deepest parts OF THE ABYSS!!!”
He reaches out in front of them, hands open, glowing with Soul, then squeezes his fingers, as if squeezing the air. The maggot inches toward him at first, noticeably confusing it as it looks down around, then it inches forward again, then was yanked away from its weapons like someone pulled on a string attached to it, being sucked in toward the Shaman’s hand; a cone of air formed with the suction. His soft hands met the soft, white hide of the maggot’s chest, and an instant later, there was a flash and an ear-deafening BOOM.
An equally blinding flash of light brightens the whole room for a split second as a white explosion erupts from the Shaman’s hand. As the maggot is thrown back, the part of its body that touched the snail’s hand is turned black from the heat, a Vengeful Spirit chases it in the air faster than it was flung back. That also explodes upon contact.
It meets the wall with a “bleh”, making an imprint of its laid-out body in the wall itself. With some effort, it dislodged itself out of the wall. With a cry of rage, the scar lit up in white flames, its entire body following suit, engulfed in an aura similar to fire, the maces still rooted in the ground raised up, and shot towards the maggot like before, floating behind it.
As it mustered more of this unnatural power to manifest yet another pair of the blunt weapons, the Snail Shaman looked over his shoulder, “Carry me! I am far too slow on my own feet to get around without using up my Soul!” He shouted.
Tristan flinched at his voice, breaking out of his thoughts to look at the Shaman for a moment, without a word, he got up, made a face as he concentrated, forcing magic straight to his arm, and forced a new hand to made then and there, the rest of the magic he was using into his arm spread over the rest of his body, healing the minor injuries. The problem was that while doing this, he used nearly all of his stored magic, leaving him feeling a little drained. Despite that, and cursing under his breath, he grabbed the snail, and pulled him up to his shoulders with a heave.
Yin got up at around the same time with a silent huff, exchanging glances with Tristan, then back at the white creature, which seems to be powering up with the flare of its aura, and the increased number of maces.
Yin saw it look at Tristan for just a moment, and that pushed them to a sprint. The maggot leaped up, crossing the distance between the boy and sage in a moment with its main mace held over its head, Yin was in front of its path, club pulled behind them, and whacked it on the side of its head, causing it to stumble back.
Both of them jumped over a sweep of one white mace, with Yin swinging down on its chest, jumping to the side once landing to let the Shaman fire another blast of a Vengeful Spirit at the reeling corpse, knocking it back a bit.
It halts itself in the air with a front flip, holding its mace straight out as it continues somersaulting, getting faster as it nears the ground and– CRASH, it collides along with two others, sending three pillars of light, the center one being the largest, the two accompanying it were a third of its size, fanning outward.
Tristan simply waits for it to pass around them, while Yin charges through, holding their club sideways, able to run right through it like nothing, the pillar evaporating upon contact with their weapon.
They continue their sprint, feeling like the excitement courses through their entire body from running right through the largest one like it was nothing; the maggot goes ‘guh?’ in confusion, dashing at them just a moment later to clash weapons with each other. It would be a stalemate of them pushing against each other, a struggle for the both of them to overpower each other, but Yin takes a step back to make the maggot lose its balance, and push it away, just in time its remote-controlled maces were annoyingly persistent, intercepting at the most inconvenient.
An orb of white lightning lands on the side of the maggot’s head, making it flinch and look at where it came from– a white, missile-shaped projectile hits it square on the forehead. Its aura dies down when they see where both of those came from, and horror somehow twists their dead face when it sees the arrangement of the fast Soul Missiles zipping their way.
Its eyes meet the Shaman’s with a nasty glare for a brief moment– ZIIING! The loud sound pierced the air, it couldn’t even see what it was before it tore through its head, cutting through like butter. It stands absolutely still for a few, dragging beats, then it wobbles, and falls to the ground.
Wasting no time, the three of them all decide at the same time to run up to it, and wail on its dazed body. Tristan kicked it and stomped at it with enhanced feet, stepping aside sometimes as Yin plays Whack-A-Mole with its body (not that either of them would know what that was in the first place), and the Snail Shaman just jabbed it with the bottom of his staff.
They only stopped when the white, floating maces evaporated, its body bloating up.
“Get back! It’s going to burst!” Was the only warning Tristan could muster before it exploded with an orange mist once more, getting infection all over the three of them.
_______________
Tristan made a face, retching, “Ayyuck,” he stuck his tongue out; a light coat of orange on the surface, he scraped his tongue with his teeth and spits it out. “Eeeack, it go’ in ‘y ‘ou’” he tried to get out, the words barely eligible as he tried not to let his tongue touch the roof of his mouth. He spits a couple of more times until there was no more orange in his saliva, shaking his head with a ‘Mrbrbbrbbr’.
He turned to the other two with a grimace, “I’m not swallowing until I can wash it out with water,” he spits once more, “It tastes like sweat vomit.”
The Snail Shaman visibly cringes, “Shut up- shut up,” he groaned, rubbing his temples. He walked up to the bench, somehow untouched in the chaos, and sat down, heaving a heavy sigh.
Tristan said nothing for a moment, silent until something new crossed his mind; turning to Yin, mouth parting to ask, but he stopped when he saw them bend down and pick up something near where it died– twice. The fact that they had to kill it twice annoyed him; in the back of his head, he hoped that something like this wouldn’t be the norm. They examined it for a moment then turned around to show it to him, it was a brown stone of a familiar shade, certain details carved into it that resembled someone he knew.
He perked up in recognition, “Oh hey, those are the things we need to give Bambi!” He steps over to them, over the corpse, he would’ve ignored the fully-dead corpse if a connection didn’t make him freeze in his tracks. His head darts to and from the stone and the corpse, “... Did it come out of that?” He asks them, pointing a finger at the still body.
They nod, walking over to the other two, scooping them up with their hands. They drop them into his hands, the butterfly’s eyes widening as the realization dawns on him, unsure if it’s horror that he’s feeling or another emotion. He remembers– it was only a few hours ago, giving Bambi 9 of them.
“... These things… were giving it that power?” He mumbles to himself, marveling at them with abject fear, yet everyone could hear the words. It wasn’t a hard fight with the three of them, but a chill ran through his body.
A tap shook him out of his thoughts, blinking rapidly, then turning to his Knight…
(he’ll stick to “The Knight”, calling it “his” made him feel weird)
He saw their head tilted at him. He wondered why they were looking at him like that, then he remembered that he was going to ask them something, “Oh right, uhm…” he paused, trying to remember what he tried asking in the first place. “How did you do that?” They only looked more confused, “The thing that went through its head, y’know that white… beam… thingy,” he clarified.
Their head bobs back in understanding, they let go of their club, and turned to a wall… then looked around, spotting the snail on the bench that was somehow still intact, rubbing his hands up and down his face.
“Hey, uh, mister… sage… guy?” Tristan cringed–
“Estirl.”
“H… Huh?”
“That’s my name, Estirl,” the Snail Shaman grumbled through his hands, looking through his fingers at Tristan with tired eyes.
“Oh, okay Estirl, do you think Yin can show me how he did that thing? Y’know, doing it at a wall?” He pursed his lips, barely able to keep his eyes on him.
Estirl sighs, “Go ahead, my dwelling is already left in ruins.” He waved them off to do what they both needed to do, though rests his elbow on the armrest of the bench, propping his head up with his palm. There was interest in his eyes despite ruining his home just a tiny bit more.
Meeting Yin’s gaze after getting permission, he nods at them.
They set their club down, rolling their shoulders, then they clap their hands together, arms stretched outward. Their hands began to glow the pale white of Soul, almost bright enough to encompass the black of their soft shell. Yin suddenly turned to something, aiming their hands at it; Tristan barely got a glance of what was the head of the Berserker Maggot’s discarded mace… scurrying away?
Yin forced soul out through a small, imperceptible gap between their middle and pinky finger with the same ZIIING, the force so great that it threw their cloak back, flapping wildly for a moment, yet they didn’t budge an inch. Energy shot out in a thin, finger-wide beam that Tristan couldn’t follow well with his eyes, jumping at how it seemed almost instant that it made contact with the mace-head with a dink. It bounced off the shell, thrown towards a wall anyways that went right through; he couldn’t tell if it made it through the other side.
His jaw dropped, looking back and forth at the hole and Yin, “Wow,” he got out in a whisper. Saliva drooled down his chin.
Yin shook their arms and let them drop to their sides, looking proud of their trick.
“Goodness…” Estirl’s voice drew the duo’s attention, “You just got this spell hours ago, and you’re already displaying a good level of control, amazing…” He was just as in awe, “You’re going to be a natural, little shade!” He clapped his hands, some of his mirth came back in his excitement.
Yin looks away abashedly, rubbing the back of their head at the praise. Their eyeholes land on the rotund armored critter, watching its little legs kick the air as it struggles on its side; it rolls upright eventually, watching it crawl away toward the exit. Tristan watched it with them in silence
He turned to Estirl, a frown on his face, despite being wow’d a minute ago, he could see the pain in his eyes as the snail looked up at the ceiling. “I’m…”
Before he went on, he turned his head and spat out a wad of clear saliva at the ground. Tristan was serious about not swallowing.
Wiping his mouth, he restarted, “We’re sorry for that,” he said, forcing his voice to be a little high. He continued when Estirl looked at him with confusion, “For bringing the destruction here– Yin and I fought that thing before we came here,” he gestured toward the technically fresh corpse, his head held low.
Estirl blinks in bewilderment at him, “No– child–” he hopped off of the iron bench, jogging to the butterfly’s side, “I’m not mad at you– either of you– for this, nor am I blaming you.” The Shaman pushed Tristan’s chin up with a hand, “You would not have known, there’s no need to be guilty about something you can’t control.”
Tristan would only shrug. His eyes would go wide when the snail cups his cheeks with both hands, “I’m thankful for you and your friend for fighting to protect my home, it’s better than having no mound at all, okay?” He asked. Tristan didn’t do anything, but his frown loosened up, his eyes relaxing a little. Estirl’s eyes creased up, “I was right to have you guys as my friends, so thanks,” he added earnestly.
Tristan gasped at the snail’s words, a small and quiet one. He let his head drop, now out of guilt, but now he’s trying to hide his face, this is even more evident by how he pulls his hood over his head. “You’re… you’re welcome,” Tristan’s voice was meek and quiet.
Yin pat his shoulder a couple of times, their mask was rigid, and their eyes empty, but it felt like he was being given a reassuring smile. He almost breaks right there.
“Oh child…”
The both of them hug the boy, two pairs of gentle arms embrace the shaking child, feeling them rub his back.
“It’s been a long day for you, hasn’t it?” The sage murmurs in his ear; Tristan could only nod. “There there, you’ve probably been running around, having to beat the same foe twice… You deserve a rest.”
Tristan sucks in a shaky gulp of air, sniffing up some mucus in the process. He clutches the edges of his cloak where it opens up, claws digging in the soft fabric he’s worn nearly his entire life, as far as he can remember. He wishes dad was here.
.
.
He doesn’t know how long passed, he only knows that they went from standing to sitting on the bench, arms still around him. He begins to pull away, wiping away his tears as he stands up. He spits away from the other two, a couple wads of snot mixed in as it hits the ground. “Alright Estirl, I think it’s time we go.”
Estirl remained seated while Yin got up after him. “Farewell, child, shade, both of you may visit any time! Good luck on your journeys.”
Tristan watched Yin trot towards the wooden club, reabsorbing it in their body, then turned back to the Snail Shaman, “We’ll visit as much as we can.”
Yin heaved as the weapon was absorbed back in their hammerspace of sorts, a shiver running through their body.
____________
As he said, Tristan went to the nearest water source he knew was safe, the hot springs; he almost dove into the hot waters, but withheld himself from doing so. The first thing he did was scoop up a bit of the water, and poured it into his mouth. He gargled, swished it in his mouth, and gargled again, and finally spit it out off to the side. Then he practically dove into the waters, not caring about taking his cloak off beforehand.
Yin was on the opposite side, body limp against the back of the pool, head reclined. They had gotten in while he washed out his mouth.
Tristan watched the wounds they had accumulated being healed, the little cracks in their mask mending back together. He brought up his left arm, the same one that was handless for a bit, staring thoughtfully at it until… he felt it like before, the feeling of being full of an energy– a different kind from his golden one, he was soaking up Soul in his body.
Yet, he could only absorb a little at a time before he felt full– no, it was more like his body rejecting it a moment later, wisps of Soul floating out of him like he was porous, like vapor. This befuddled him, made him wonder why he couldn’t take Soul and keep it in his body; something else also clicked in his mind. His body can absorb it, and maybe even use it before it gets ejected out of him… He shakes his head, the idea getting shafted as quick as it came, it would drain out of him before he could think of anything to do with it, besides throw it Yin’s way.
He groans, his muscles loosening up in the heated waters, he could feel the Soul traveling along his body, healing any bruised areas without telling it too, the constant stream of it refilling allowed it heal his body– not only to a useable state, but also enough for there to be no more pain; he only hopes that he’s not robbing something that’s not bottomless.
All of these worries plaguing his mind tire his mind out along with his body, he can feel the lullaby of sleep snaking its way around his consciousness, perhaps this time he can get a long, proper rest.
‘What a long day,’ is his last thought before he falls asleep.
